Hard Hand

by Sierra Cartwright

  “Yes, Sir!” Quickly she brushed her hair, then applied a fresh coat of eyeliner and mascara. She painted her lips a vixen-red color. Finally, she replaced the mask.

  All that done, she rejoined him.

  He stood near the minibar, a small glass bottle of mineral water in hand. “You are worth any wait.”

  She sucked in a breath.

  Cole perused her, eyes deep with appreciation. In that moment, she believed what he said. “You’re very kind, Sir.”

  “I’ve warned you that kind isn’t a word associated with me. Remember that.”

  Trepidation danced down her spine. How well did she know him?

  “Ready?”

  She curled her hand into a fist in a futile effort to stop her hand from shaking, then dropped the mascara and lipstick into her clutch. For a moment she debated adding other toiletries, then decided against it. No doubt she would be back in her own room in a couple of hours. She closed the flap on her purse and gave him a tight nod.

  In the hallway, he said, “Please walk in front of me.”

  Her insides lurched.

  Everything this man did spoke to his understanding and mastery of a sub.

  He instructed her to precede him onto the elevator, then from it when they arrived at his floor.

  With his burning gaze on her, Avery had never been more aware of her femininity.

  Once they were sealed inside his suite and she’d placed her belongings on his desk, he offered her a drink of the mineral water.

  Since there was no way to hide her trembling hand, she shook her head.

  Cole pressed a button on his docking station. Within a few seconds, smooth instrumental jazz wove a sensual atmosphere.

  Avery looked around. Though they had the same luxurious linens on their beds, he had a couple of additional pieces of furniture, higher ceilings, a wet bar, and an additional window. “You have a lot more space than I do.” She just hoped that when she returned to her room there would be chocolate-covered strawberries on her nightstand as well.

  “I have a house about thirty minutes from here, but when Sterling offered me a room for the duration of the project, I decided to skip the daily commute.” He shrugged. “The workout room is better than most gyms.”

  “I sometimes think I shouldn’t stay here. Going home afterward is always a letdown. Don’t get me wrong, my apartment is nice. But it’s small. It’s not on the Strip. And it doesn’t have a cupcake machine.” If that wasn’t enough to convince her, the twenty-four-hour room service and someone to do her laundry certainly was.

  “That should be remedied.”

  “I’ve suggested it to management numerous times.”

  He grinned. “We should enjoy as many of Sterling’s amenities as we can. The armoire is unlocked. Have a look inside.” His statement was flat, with no inflection. It wasn’t a suggestion.

  Her legs felt wobbly in a way that had nothing to do with her heels.

  She crossed the room to open the doors of the piece of furniture, then stared in wide-eyed shock. He had every impact device imaginable, from floggers to paddles, carpet beaters to crops and canes. Even a single-tail hung curled from a hook.

  “This is some collection.”

  “The Royal Sterling caters to every need.”

  “So… These aren’t yours?”

  “Some are. The cane for example.” He joined her. “And the short red flogger.”

  She wanted it on her skin.

  “You asked for tonight,” he reminded her. “In return, I will demand your total honesty in every other way.”

  She faced him. “I’m not sure I understand.”

  “When I ask a question, I want an answer. I’ve told you that you’ll get what you want from me, but you need to be clear about what it is. I expect you to be completely honest.”

  Avery squared her shoulders, drawing from the strength that anonymity gave her.

  “Good.” He took a seat in an easy chair, then propped an ankle on the opposite knee. “Please remove your dress.”

  Taking off her clothes in front of a man for the first time always made her heart careen.

  He pressed his hands together and looked at her. There was only a tiny zipper near the base of her spine, and she grabbed the pull tab to slowly lower it.

  She brushed the one strap from her shoulder, then allowed the bodice to drop.

  She was braless, and his gaze lingered on her breasts. Because of the cool air, her nipples hardened instantly. Or at least that was what she told herself, rather than believing it happened because of the way he watched her.

  Without further encouragement, she pulled off her dress. She draped the material across the foot of the bed. “What about the shoes?”

  “I like them. But it’s up to you. If they’re comfortable enough, leave them on. If you feel more like my little sub when you’re naked and barefoot, take them off.”

  “I’ll keep them on.” Uncertain, she waited for his next instruction.

  “Do whatever feels natural.”

  She clutched her necklace for inner strength. Thoughts tumbled through her, and she took a breath. Deep down, she knew what he expected. A moment later, she knelt.

  “Yes,” he whispered.

  She spread her knees wide and placed her hands behind her neck before tipping back her head and closing her eyes.

  “Very nice.”

  He allowed time to drag and stretch. She forced herself not to fidget. A full minute or so later, she realized—fuck it—that he was waiting on her. “Please, Sir, will you touch me?”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Will you please touch your sub?” she amended.

  “I’d be happy to. In what way?”

  If she were Avery Fisher rather than a brave incognito woman, she would never be able to continue this way—asking, taking. But tonight, she could be the sub she dreamed of being. “Will you inspect your sub, Sir?”

  “Very well done.”

  She opened her eyes to see him walking toward her. Within seconds, he stood over her, deliciously imposing. Slowly, he circled her.

  “I like you on your knees, sub.”

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  He yanked her hair back, exposing her neck, making her open her mouth. God, this was everything she imagined.

  He put his finger on her lips.

  “Please may I suck it, Sir?” It stunned her to realize just how much she actually wanted to.

  “You may.”

  As if it were his cock, she circled his finger with her tongue, then drew his finger into her mouth, sucking, licking, adoring.

  “Show me your breasts.”

  Since he hadn’t pulled away, she continued to suck while she pushed them together.

  He extracted his finger. “What are you thinking?”

  “That I’d like you to fuck them, Sir—my breasts—maybe come on them.”

  “You are a sexy woman, Layla.” He placed his hands on hers, forcing her breasts even closer together.

  She moaned a little.

  “What else needs inspection?”

  “My cunt, Sir.” Then instantly, she corrected, “Your sub’s cunt, Sir.”

  “You were reminded once, earlier. Weren’t you?”

  Her pulse stuttered. “Yes, Sir.”

  “I think the lapse should be punished.”

  “Please, Sir.” Please, please, yes.

  “Slap your cunt.”

  “Sir?”

  “You seem to think it belongs to you. Therefore you should be the one to punish it.”

  Stunned by the order, she looked at him. He wasn’t going to do it for her?

  “Are you waiting for something?” He took a step back to give her some space.

  Despite the chill in the room, her body was hot. Having no other choice, she slapped her pussy. The pain surprised her.

  “You might have better access if your legs were spread farther apart.” His words sounded like a suggestion, and she knew they were anythin
g but.

  “Yes, Sir.” She followed his order and gave herself a second slap, then a third. “How many, Sir?”

  He shrugged. “How many would you like?”

  They were playing a sinful game she could never win. “As many as you say, Sir.”

  “Ah.” He smiled.

  This man tested everything she knew about BDSM.

  Because he hadn’t said she could stop, she kept going—two more, three, four… It damn well stings.

  Her pussy became inflamed. And because she was submissive and there was nothing hotter than having a powerful Dom looming over her, commanding her actions, she started to get wet.

  She lost track. All she knew was that her pussy was unbelievably sensitive.

  “If it were my pussy, it would get a different kind of attention.”

  She frowned at him. “Sir?”

  He continued to regard her, and she continued to spank until fresh realization dawned. “Show me,” she invited. “Show your sub how you would treat your pussy, Sir.”

  “Fuck.”

  For a moment, she thought he might use her real name, but that wasn’t possible.

  “Please stand and put your hands behind you.”

  Her motions weren’t as graceful as they might have been if she’d recently had a Dom and routinely knelt. But he didn’t complain. In fact, he smiled as though he approved of her actions.

  He took a step in her direction, and she sucked in a breath. She was hyperaware of him. His stance communicated power and command.

  “Wet my fingers.” He held his hand in front of her face, and she licked them as she continued to meet his gaze.

  He slid his hand between her legs and teased her, slipping his fingers in and out of her pussy, driving her mad.

  She closed her eyes. The soft pumping of his fingers coupled with the sharp smacks she’d given herself made her delirious.

  Tremors shook her as she imagined what she looked like, naked except for her gorgeous mask, the necklace, and high-heeled sandals, breasts thrust out, shoulder blades drawn together, hands behind her neck, legs spread. Surrendered to his mercy.

  He removed his hand and she moaned.

  But then he slapped her cunt so hard that she screamed, lost her balance, and pitched forward.

  He caught her. “Back into position.”

  She couldn’t. “The pain…” She squeezed her thighs together, desperate to escape the burning sensation. “Damn. Damn. Fuck.”

  “That’s how I would treat my pussy.”

  Avery gulped, but shockingly once the searing pain receded, pleasure flooded her. She’d never been more sexually aroused than she was at that moment. God. It wasn’t enough. Avery thrust her hips forward, seeking his hand and the release an orgasm would bring.

  “Back into position,” he repeated.

  She realized she was gripping his forearms and that he’d leaned in to offer his body as support. Without her being aware of it, he’d been there for her. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  Slowly, she righted herself. Momentarily she closed her eyes to reenter the submissive mindset.

  “Now show me…show me how you should spank it next time I ask.”

  He expects me to do that to myself? There was no way she could bear it. For a wild second, she considered using her safe word. But then… She knew she might never have another night like this one or a second chance to play with Master Cole.

  “I’m waiting.”

  “Yes, Sir.” Harder than she could have imagined, she did as he said.

  On top of the pain she’d already experienced, this was stunning. Before she could sort through the emotional ramifications, he was there, an arm around her waist, stroking her labia, easing a finger inside her.

  She gulped for air, feeling as if she were drowning. “Sir!”

  “Come anytime you want,” he said against her ear, the words gruff and simultaneously promising.

  He slipped a second finger inside her. The sensation was hot, fucking hot. Then he inserted a third and spread them apart, fucking her hard and deep. Her pussy blazed in response to his sensual assault.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck so she could stay upright. Seconds later, a climax shot through her, its intensity shocking.

  Avery’s body went limp, and he picked her up. Without her being fully conscious of what was happening, he carried her to the chair where he sat and drew her against him.

  She curled up, accepting his comfort, heedless that she was naked.

  This Dom understood her, what she needed, maybe even on a level she didn’t quite comprehend herself. “That was…” She sought for the right description, but words failed her. “Sexy.”

  “You like it hard.”

  “Yes.” Something inside her blossomed. Allowing herself to be honest was liberating.

  “When you’re ready, I want you on your knees.”

  She remained where she was for another minute or two, soothed by the sound of his pounding heart, the strength of his arms, the masculine scent of him.

  Being with him was so natural, easy in a way she’d never experienced with anyone else. Eventually she was able to rouse herself enough to slide from his lap to kneel on the floor.

  “Undress me. Except for my pants.”

  Anticipation flooded her. Not that things hadn’t been real before now, but this command magnified his power.

  Avery started with his shoes, untying the laces of each of expensive wingtip. This part of BDSM helped her center herself. She enjoyed simple tasks that she could treat reverently. In a way, it was meditative.

  Once she’d removed his shoes and tucked the socks inside, he stood, again towering over her, making her deliciously aware of her submissive pose.

  His eyes were lighter than they’d been earlier, molten. Intimacy whispered around them.

  “I’m waiting.” He offered his hand and helped her up.

  She moved behind him to take his jacket. As he shrugged from it, she noticed that her thong peeked out from one of his pockets, and she absently wondered if he had any intention of returning it.

  Not that it mattered. Part of her hoped he’d want to keep it.

  “There’s a wooden hanger in the closet.”

  She hung the jacket, then smoothed imaginary wrinkles from it. That done, she returned to unfasten his bowtie.

  The image of him with the ends loose against the snowy-white shirt would remain with her for years.

  Avery removed his studs, then his cufflinks, frowning at the odd owl on each of them. Finally, she unfastened the remaining two buttons on his tuxedo shirt.

  Again she went behind him to help him from the shirt.

  His back, with honed muscles and a couple of badly healed scars, took her breath away. She had labeled him a secret-agent man, and of course there was his military background. How much didn’t she know? Judging by the fact he was consulting for the Royal Sterling, there was no doubt Cole didn’t sit at a desk all day.

  She hung the shirt next to his jacket in the closet and tucked his tie into the same pocket as her underwear; then she looked at him, drinking in the sight of his lean stomach and slender waist. His chest had a smattering of hair, and she couldn’t stop staring at his biceps.

  Even though a smile toyed with his mouth, his tone was stern. “Hurry it, sub. Unless you want to be chastised for tarrying?”

  Damn, she loved being with a Dominant who made it easy for her to be the sub she wanted to be.

  “What does intuition tell you to do now?” he asked.

  With any other Dom, she might respond as expected, with the perfect, “Whatever you say, Sir.” But tonight was different. Tonight she was asking for what she wanted. “If it pleases you, Sir…I’d like to suck your dick.”

  He inclined his head a little. “There are condoms in the nightstand.” With his thumb, he indicated the piece of furniture. “Crawl to it and bring one to me.”

  Avery found quite a selection, all of the shiny packages emblazoned wi
th the Sterling’s crown logo. She dug through the small bowl they were in until she located one without spermicide.

  She started to crawl to him, but his words stopped her.

  “Put it in your mouth.”

  It was uncomfortable, and she wanted to spit it out, but she didn’t dare. Her eyes watered as she made her way toward him, and she fought her gag reflex while she unfastened his belt.

  “Think about what you’re doing and not about your discomfort,” he encouraged. “Get out of your own head.”

  She tugged on the thin, supple strip of leather, pulling it from around his waist.

  After coiling it, she set it aside.

  Then she unfastened the single button and lowered the zipper on his pants.

  For a moment, she held her breath, wondering if he was commando. But he wasn’t. Cole wore tight dark boxer briefs. His cock jutted against them. Even though he was confined, there was no doubt he was well-endowed. Maybe too well-endowed. What had she been thinking when she’d offered to suck him off?

  She lowered his pants, and once he’d stepped free of them, she picked them up and folded them, then offered them to him.

  “You’ve either had some good training or you have remarkably good instincts.”

  She nodded.

  “Which is it? The training?”

  The condom package made her choke, preventing speech.

  “Mostly instinct, then, hmm? I prefer that. I like to train my women to my preferences.”

  The idea of being his woman, his sub, made her heart race. What would that be like? Not to simply have a scene on the weekends, but to live the lifestyle more often, even daily? To have her days filled with little acts of service to her man? To have him demand dirty things from her, to compel her obedience? Avery forced away the exhilarating questions. They had tonight and no more.

  He took the pants from her, then hung them on the back of the chair, undoing her careful work.

  She hooked her fingers inside the waistband of his underwear and pulled down the material. His cock sprang free, jutting toward her face. He was magnificent and definitely on the large side. But the fact that he was already hard sent a flash of pleasure through her.

  She finished undressing him, appreciating the way he’d trimmed his pubic hair and shaved his balls. Everything about him signaled his awareness of his sexuality. If the condom package hadn’t been stuck in her mouth, she would have been tempted to start sucking now.