Mimi Mine

by Aubrey Cara

  He gave her a sharp look that only lasted a second before his eyes trained back on the road. That damned haunted look that had about gutted her when she’d first saw him at the hospital, was back. But now his face was also clouded with aggravation. “You were in an accident, Mimi...I need you at my house, in my bed, right next to me tonight. I'd have gone and picked up Zeke too, but we need time to talk. Tomorrow you're both sleeping over, and every night after that if I have my way.”

  Relief rushed through her so quickly tears stung the back of her eyes. Those were not the words of a man breaking up with someone. Feeling much lighter she blew out a steadying breath and asked, “So, what was it you wanted to talk about?”

  “About this past month and your behavior for starters.”

  “Oh?” she said with feigned innocence. She knew exactly what he was talking about and would rather skip this conversation.

  “Sunshine, I feel like I’ve been to hell and back. I'm a little low in the patience department this evening.”

  Mimi sighed. “Do we really need to talk about this tonight? Can't we just—”

  “No. Not after your cutesy comment earlier tonight.”

  “I know, that was thoughtless. I’m sorry.”

  “It was thoughtless, but it was the first time you’ve been honest about what you want all month.” She bit her lip knowing his words were true. “No more beating around the bush,” he continued. “No more games. It's not fair to me. It's not fair to us.”

  They pulled into his driveway. The lights in the house were on, and Mimi couldn't help but think how inviting the house looked as they drove up and into the garage. Mason killed the engine but made no move to get out. The overhead light had come on when the garage door opened and Mimi fixed her gaze over Mason's shoulder, on the 1969 Camaro z28 he was rebuilding. Then the storage shelves along the back wall. Anywhere but him.

  She'd been doing their relationship a grave injustice by not being honest with herself. She had been playing very childish games and she now felt very stupid for them. Admitting that out loud, however, stuck in her throat. “I...I wanted you to spank me,” she said still not looking at him. “And I was trying to get you to cave, so I didn't have to ask for it,” she said softly, ashamed to admit it.

  “Even though you asked me not to.”

  “Even though I asked you not to.”

  He took her face in his large strong hands, making her look at him. His grip was gentle but firm. “I understand why you wanted to take spanking and such, off the table. I'm even glad we slowed down in the sex department.” Her disbelief must have shown because his full soft lips that she loved so much pulled up in a grin as he said, “I wasn't thrilled when you first proposed we pump the brakes, but I saw reason. You on the other hand seem to have lost your ever loving mind.”

  Mimi winced. She had gone a little crazy in her antics to get Mason to break.

  “You need to know I won't dominate you in or out of the bedroom without your permission. I especially didn’t appreciate you trying to goad me into spanking you. I should have nipped it in the bud when you started doing it, three weeks ago.”

  “I'm sorry, Mason.”

  “I'm sorry too. I should have handled the situation better.”

  “You don't have anything to be sorry for. Please don't be sorry.”

  He gave her a hard look, in which she couldn't read. “From here on out we talk about this stuff. I will not spank you when you've specifically said you don't want that to be a part of our relationship.”

  “I know.”

  “Do you? I will call you on it if I feel you're playing head games. I'm not going to let you push me until I throw you over my knee, then have you resent me or hold it against me later.”

  She gasped, “I would never!” She hated that he thought she would resent him.

  “But you could,” he said even as she shook her head in denial. “And that's just one of many problems with going along as we have been, Miriam.”

  “I don't want to go along the way we have been,” she agreed.

  “Good, ‘cause neither do I. Let's go inside and go to bed. I'm ready to hold you.”

  She was ready to do more than have him hold her. She could sense he needed it too. Dominating her gave him a release as much as it did her. She craved a spanking to wash the slate clean, now more than ever. Her thoughts must have shown. When she looked back up, his eyes had a special glint. Still intense but devoid of the grief that had been there earlier.

  He stroked a thumb down the side of her face catching her bottom lip. “Don't tell me you're ready to repent for the month's worth of angst you've caused?” His voice had gone low and wicked for that last part.

  Heat flashed through her body. Mimi sucked air. This is what had been missing. “I would like to repent,” she said, looking straight into his beautiful, steely gray gaze. His eyes sparked. Challenging. His jaw set and she knew he wasn't going to go soft on her. She couldn't help but appreciate that.

  “You know what that means, what you're asking for? What you're agreeing to?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Are you sure you’re ready for that tonight? We can wait--”

  “Please don’t make me wait.”

  His eyes held hers, assessing her before he said, “You don't get to arbitrarily take things off the table from here out.”

  She nodded looking down at her hands knotted in her lap.

  “And you're going to take whatever I give you. Because it's not just what you want. It's what you need, and you trust me to give you what you need. Don't you, Miriam?”

  “I do.”

  “Why?”

  Looking at him she knew. Deep down to her bones, she knew, and it was the most liberating and empowering feeling she'd ever experienced. “Because I am yours, and you will always love me, and you will always take care of me.”

  “That's right,” he said as he brushed a tear off her cheek with the pad of his thumb.

  But he'd gotten something wrong, she thought as she followed him in the house, her smaller hand wrapped in his. She wasn't going to take. She was going to give. She was going to give herself in every way she could, because he was hers, and she would always love him, and she would always take care of him.

  Because he needed this too.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Having Mimi openly own his love was a balm to his soul. Mimi's hand trembled in his grip as he led her into the house. He found her nervous energy oddly arousing. Her submission filled him with a type of satisfaction he'd never experienced before. Not even the rush of making his first million from something he'd built himself could compare to the heady feeling he experienced knowing Mimi was giving herself to him that night. Hopefully always.

  He let go of Mimi's hands to let the dogs out. As he came back into the room his eye snagged on her standing behind the couch. It reminded him so much of a few weeks ago his heart stuttered before it started beating heavy in his chest.

  “May I take a shower...before?” Her question was tentative. Almost shy, but oh so proper.

  He nodded and his mouth went dry as she slowly peeled the loose sweater she had worn up and over her head, letting it fall to the floor at her feet.

  Her eyes were like twin orbs shining out at him as she stripped off her undershirt, letting it hang from a finger as she turned and made her way down the hall, her bottom swaying.

  His feet started moving as he heard her jeans plop down in the hall. He found himself trailing after her, following her discarded garments to the master bathroom where she stood naked, just turning on the water in his big shower. He drank in the sight of her, as she peeked over her shoulder at him. Enticing him.

  The naughty little vixen.

  “Would you like to join me?”

  He gave her beautiful body a slow once-over imagining her punishment to come and felt a grin pull at his lips. He knew it wasn't a nice grin by the shiver that raced through her body. Her saucy little look she'd been trying to tempt
him with wavered, and she bit her lip and visibly swallowed. It made him imagine what he was going to make her swallow later.

  A rush like he'd never known until one month ago heated his blood. He'd missed this. Only dominating Mimi could give him this heady feeling thrumming through his veins. Slowly, he shook his head in the negative to her question. “I'll wait. You have five minutes. For every extra minute you make me wait, I'll be adding a stroke.”

  “A stroke to what?” she asked her eyes going wide. She knew exactly what.

  He just smiled again and turned away, going to his closet to pull out what he'd purchased this month while they'd been pumping the brakes. He'd planned on using them in two nights, but it seemed his proverbial Christmas had come early.

  *** ***

  Mimi took the quickest shower she'd ever taken. If the look on Mason's face was any indication, she would not be desiring extra strokes added to this evening's spanking. She'd certainly asked for it, hadn't she?

  Wrapping a towel around herself she stepped out of the bathroom only to step back as soon as she locked eyes on Mason. He stood leaning against his long black dresser. Arms and ankles crossed. In his hand he held a paddle. A little wider than her hand and as long as a ruler. It looked like black leather and the makings of a very sore bottom.

  Her pulse picked up double time, ringing loud in her ears, even as her butt cheeks clenched together. Now that the time of reckoning was upon her she was having some second thoughts. Many seconds and third thoughts. Her feet inched toward the door to the hall without her permission. She had no idea where they thought they were going. She willed herself to standstill, her toes curled into the plush carpet of his bedroom as to lock herself in place.

  He raised an eyebrow at the move. “Lose the towel.”

  Nerveless fingers dropped the towel where she stood. Her nipples pebbled to fine points as the cool air kissed her skin. She wanted to cover herself as she stood waiting for his directive.

  “Come here, Miriam.”

  She wanted to shake her head and stay exactly where she was. She'd taken one step when he said, “Stop.”

  She froze like they were playing a game of Simon Says. He nodded at the floor and back at her, making his request clear. Indignation filled her chest, but something else too. Something hot and needy.

  Slowly she got to her knees, keeping eye contact the entire time. She dropped down to her hands and began to crawl, holding his gaze, challenge warring with submission with every inch she drew closer.

  When she got to his feet she sat back on her heels as he stroked the side her face. But instead of his warm, steadying hand she got the cold smooth leather of the paddle trailing over her skin. Now it rested on her shoulder, an extension of his hand. The hand she would much prefer.

  The weight of the paddle was lighter than expected yet a heavy reminder of what was to come.

  “Do you like your new paddle? I had it made special, just for you.”

  Great. Give the man a month off from kink and he had a paddle hand made, just for her bottom. Her hands instinctively reached back to protect her posterior. She couldn't take her eyes off the paddle. Nervousness for what was to come threatened to eclipse her desire for a spanking. It wasn't like a spatula, or a spoon, or hand. It looked like a weapon of ass-destruction.

  “Would you rather I spank you with my hand?”

  She nodded, giving him a guarded-but-hopeful look.

  “Do you get to choose how I punish you, Miriam?”

  Rebellion flashed through her before she looked down, shaking her head. She felt her lower lip pouting out and she sucked it back in, along with the tears that were suddenly threatening to fall. Why that simple question filled her with remorse she didn't know. It didn't make sense. She'd known she was going to get punished. She'd known he wasn't going to take it easy on her. She'd longed for this all month and wouldn't want it anyway else, but…

  She hadn't expected it to feel like a real punishment.

  He took her hand pulling her up and walking her over to the padded bench at the end of his massive bed. He sat before gently pulling her down over his hard thigh. His jeans chafing against her bare belly, her upper body resting along his hip. He clamped her legs down with his other leg much like he had at the hospital. Tears began to fall in earnest down her face and he hadn't even lifted the paddle.

  It may be twisted, but she'd never felt more secure or loved than she did at that moment. Fastened against his body, knowing that he was going to spank and punish her in any manner he saw fit. And she knew she could trust him. Trust him to give her what she needed. Trust him to release her from all the fear, insecurities, and guilt that had been riding her. She'd been a ship lost at sea all month.

  Cool leather lightly glided over her rump and it made her flinch with nerves.

  “Last chance, angel. Reprieve or repent?”

  “Repent,” she said, her throat clogged with tears. Her belly a tight ball of grief.

  She had not a second to breathe before fire licked across her ass with the first strike of the paddle. Then another. And another. Her mouth was open on a soundless cry for all six strokes he delivered in quick succession. Her breath sobbed in and out when he paused. She waited for his caress. A soothing hand on her burning bottom, but none was forthcoming. Only the iron band of his arm keeping her locked in place.

  Seemed he was only giving her a breather.

  She was getting her first honest to God punishment spanking and she wanted to crawl in a hole and hide. She hated this spanking as much as she craved it, and the meaning behind it. More tears spilled down her cheeks as she tried to sniff them back.

  “Twenty-two. One for everyday I refrained from spanking you. Count them out,” Mason said, his voice deep and gruff.

  Whap. “Ahhh! One.” The broad arm of the paddle seemed to sear the flesh of her entire ass like lightning. She swore she could feel the sting all the way to her teeth. She tried to relax even as every muscle in her body clenched tight. Whap, “Fuck, two,” Whap, “three!” She pushed from her feet, wanting to crawl up and away, but his leg and arm kept her from going far.

  The sounds of the strikes echoed in the room with her cries. By ten there wasn't an inch of her ass that didn't feel swollen and abused. By the time they got to twenty-two her tears were running unchecked down her face and her rump was one big, throbbing mass.

  The spanking over, she took big shuddering breaths. By increments she released her grip from where she clutched at the bench with one hand and the comforter behind them with the other.

  She started at the feel of his warm hand caressing down her back, like a balm. A hand that let her know all was well. He kneaded her hot swollen bottom, making her flinch even as she relaxed.

  He pulled her up on her shaky legs, standing her between his knees before pulling her down into his lap. She ignored her bottom’s protest as his arms came around her. It felt like coming home. In his arms is where she was meant to be. She felt silly for fighting it. He was her anchor during rough seas. The light that would always guide her to safe shores.

  “You did so well, angel,” he said, wiping her tears off her face.

  His hands ran up and down her naked back making her want to burrow further into his warmth and strength. Taking her face he leaned down, his full lips playing softly against hers for long moments before the kiss changed. Growing with the hard length against her hip. His tongue invaded and demanded. Claimed.

  Her head spun with newly awakened arousal as he held her to him with a hand cupped to her neck even as she clung to his front, her hands fisted in his shirt. The pulsating ache in her bottom was morphing into a heated longing between her legs. He ran a finger along her wet slit in a lazy fashion, but moved away too quickly.

  When he pulled back he smiled, an evil mischievous smile that said the real punishment was over, but had also just begun. “Corner time, Ms. Westfall.”

  The answering smile that had been stretching her lips died a quick death. This only s
erved to make his smile widen. Dammit.

  “Hands on the wall. Bottom out.”

  “Right now?” They were just getting to the good stuff.

  “Did I stutter Ms. Westfall?”

  Her belly flipped, liquid heat filling her core. How did the man do that every damned time?

  He helped her stand on wobbly legs. Mimi slunk to the corner even as her body betrayed how much she like being ordered there like a naughty girl. Reprimanded by her favorite stern taskmaster. Her arousal threatened to smear along her thighs as she stepped into position. Legs wide, arms on the wall, throbbing red bottom out. On full sensual display for Mr. Coleman's pleasure. Her toes curled and her clit did a double pulse at the thought.

  Okay, maybe corner time wasn't that bad. It was certainly better than real paddle spankings, the likes she would not soon be forgetting. Thinking of the spanking on her still smarting bottom only served to turn her on more. She bit her lip hoping he couldn't see how much corner time was turning her on, once again. The man didn't need any more encouragement or incentive to make this a regular punishment.

  She seemed to remember a chair or a house plant being right where she was standing. The blasted man had moved the furniture anticipating putting her in the corner at some point. She scowled over her shoulder, before facing the wall again.

  “Are you pouting, Miriam?”

  “No,” she said, but even she could hear the pout in her words. Double dammit.

  “Do you know what happens to naughty girls who pout in the corner?”

  Her eyes bugged as she looked back at him. He couldn't mean to spank her again.

  He chuckled. “No, not that,” he said reading her expression. “At least not this time. Face the wall and close your eyes.”

  She gave him one last assessing look before complying.

  There was a swoosh before cool silky material draped over her eyes. She felt him tying it tight behind her head. It's funny how when she'd read women getting blindfolded in erotic novels it seemed such a weak bit of erotic play. Now that it was happening it was nerve wracking. Her world spun, feeling momentarily disoriented even though she hadn't moved a muscle.