Changing the Script (Siren Publishing Allure)

by Fae Mallory

  A breathy moan answered her, Robert swaying closer, and Izzy seized the moment to claim his lips again. He opened for her instantly, the rough velvet of his tongue stroking against hers to invite her deeper, offering her everything, and she was happy to take. Once again the taste of cigarettes made her nose crinkle, but she licked the smoky flavor away until she could taste nothing but Robert. Sliding her hand higher, she rested it over his burgeoning erection, rubbing gently with the base of her palm to coax him into full hardness.

  Once his helpless moans satisfied her that he was defenseless, barely able to focus enough to kiss her back, Izzy pulled away. Robert whimpered a protest but stayed where he was when she held her hand up to ward him off. “Tell me a story,” she requested. “Tell me the story of when you first realized you wanted me.”

  His hoarse chuckle filled the back of the cab, the flash of the streetlights outside making his eyes glitter. “That’s easy. I called you in the middle of the night to ask for Belgian lace curtains, and you shouted at me.”

  That moment had occurred only months into their working relationship, and Izzy nearly swallowed her tongue. “That long?”

  “You weren’t intimidated by me,” he explained. “No one else would dare put me in my place but you. I couldn’t help but wonder how that might translate.”

  “And is it everything you hoped?” she asked.

  His blissful smile told her everything she needed to know. “Oh, yes.”

  Chapter 8

  The cab ride seemed to last an eternity, but they eventually reached her building, Robert tossing the driver a hundred dollar bill before she caught hold of his tie and led him up the five flights of stairs to her apartment. By the time they reached her floor, he wasn’t even winded, confirming her suspicion that the cane in her hand was for show only.

  Robert glanced around with interest as she locked the door behind them, and Izzy realized this was the first time he’d ever been in her apartment. The bare brick walls were decorated with framed posters from every show she’d ever stage managed, and Robert smiled at the sight of their history on display. The furniture was sparse. Other than the futon that doubled as her bed and the desk she’d inherited from her grandmother, the only furnishings were a bookcase and dresser, but Izzy planned to make the most of what little they had to work with.

  Tossing herself down on the futon, she left Robert standing in the middle of the room as she toyed with his cane, idly twirling it between her fingers. Being in her apartment made the situation real for the first time. This wasn’t her trying to calm Robert. They were going to have sex. It was new territory for them, and Izzy felt suddenly uncertain. However, Robert was trusting her to lead them through, and she couldn’t allow herself to let her nerves show. “Strip. I want to see what’s mine.”

  His hands went immediately to his tie, tugging the strip of silk loose. Izzy put down the cane and extended her hand, letting him place it across her palm before pressing a kiss to the cool silk. “Keep going.”

  His jacket followed, being draped neatly over her desk chair before he pulled his shirt free of his trousers and began unbuttoning it. “Slowly,” Izzy cautioned, watching greedily as he undid his buttons, baring more and more of his skin to her eyes. When he finally reached the final button and shrugged the shirt off, Izzy felt like she should applaud. Robert was built like a swimmer—broad shoulders tapering down to a narrow waist. His arm and chest muscles were firmly defined without being ostentatious, the body of a man who worked hard, not of one who spent endless hours in the gym. He was lean and compact and—to Izzy’s eyes—absolutely perfect.

  “You’re beautiful,” she sighed, her eyes following the line of his sparse chest hair down over his flat belly to where it disappeared beneath his belt. The material there was tented, proving that Robert was enjoying this little show every bit as much as she was.

  “Beautiful’s your job,” he dismissed.

  “I’m sure you don’t want me to punish you for arguing with me,” Izzy threatened, watching a flush of color spread down his throat and chest. Clearly Robert very much liked the idea of being disciplined, and Izzy’s mind raced as she tried to think of what she could do to him. To cover her distraction, she laughed and corrected herself, “On second thought, maybe you do.”

  Robert’s tongue darted out to moisten his lips, making her shiver. “Izzy, please.”

  “You’re not done,” she reminded him, leaning back and trying to look like she couldn’t care less how long it took him to get naked.

  He didn’t make her wait long. In an instant, he had his belt and fly undone, his trousers pooling around his feet. Izzy admired the play of muscle in his powerful thighs as he attempted to kick his trousers off, cursing when they tangled around his shoes.

  By the time he finally divested himself of his shoes, socks, and trousers, he was blushing to the waistband of his boxers, and Izzy could scarcely keep herself still, her head swimming with the knowledge that she could throw the self-contained Robert Mitchell so far off balance.

  He stood in front of her in her small apartment, clad only in black silk boxers, and Izzy held his gaze as she breathed deeply through her nose, waiting to commit every aspect of this moment to memory. For years, she’d dreamed about this, and now it was real. Conscious of his eyes on her, she deliberately lowered her gaze until she was looking directly at the bulging front of his shorts. “I said strip.”

  With a shaky laugh, he reached for his waistband. “You’re merciless.”

  “Do you deserve mercy?” she asked, barely aware of what she was saying as Robert let his boxers drop to the floor, revealing himself to her at last. He was beautifully made, his cock jutting up in a proud curve, and even from this distance she could see the way the tip was flushed with wanting.

  “Probably not, but I’ll beg for it anyway,” he said boldly, clasping his hands behind his back to let her look her fill.

  Izzy would never tire of admiring him, but she was also tired of waiting. Without looking away, she reached down to slip off her high heels and cast them aside, her bare toes curling against the warm hardwood floor. “I believe you said something about kissing my feet.”

  A guttural noise answered her, then Robert threw himself to his knees in front of her, reaching out with shaking hands to pick up one of her feet. He cradled her heel in his right hand, the fingers of the other stroking against the side of her foot with just enough pressure not to tickle. Izzy swallowed a moan as he bent over her, pressing his lips to the top of her foot in an open-mouthed kiss. Her nerves hummed as he nuzzled her skin, sliding his mouth over the top of her foot to her toes, kissing each digit in turn before nibbling delicately.

  His long hair fell over his face, not quite hiding the way his eyes were half-closed in pleasure. He was breathing hard, the rush of warm air making her skin tingle, and Izzy helplessly wiggled her toes. Taking that as his cue, Robert opened his mouth wider to suck at her toes, the unconventional caress making her melt. Izzy had anticipated most of the pleasure from this act would come simply from watching him abase himself at her feet, but she’d underestimated what a clever tongue he had as he laved her toes.

  Leaning back, she allowed him to lift her leg higher, giving him the opportunity to steal a look straight up her dress if he was so inclined. She had given him permission to do no such thing, and Robert proved his obedience by keeping his gaze chastely on her foot as he moved lower to nuzzle along the arch, his tongue lashing against her skin.

  He wreathed her ankle with kisses, then carefully put her foot down and picked up the other, repeating the process until Izzy was breathless and squirming from the worship. Trying to distract herself, she asked, “So, is it feet in general that get you going or just mine?”

  His laugh made her toes curl, a reaction he didn’t miss. He nipped sharply at them, soothing the hurt with a long stroke of his tongue. “Just yours. You could tell me to lick your elbow, and I’d lose my mind.”

  That might be an interesting
experiment, but her elbows didn’t feel the need for any attention at the moment. “How about my knees instead? Work your way up. Slowly.”

  “Thank you,” he rumbled, bracing her foot against his shoulder as he trailed his fingertips up her calf, his mouth following the same path with slow licks until he reached the back of her knee and began to nibble, his hair tickling her skin.

  No man had ever bothered to pay attention to the backs of her knees before, and Izzy took a moment to deeply resent her previous lovers’ carelessness, because the delicate scrape of Robert’s teeth turned her blood to molten lava. She slumped back against the futon with a groan, the sound drawing an echo from his lips. “You’re good at that,” she praised.

  “I want to please you,” he rasped. “I’d do anything to please you.”

  As far as she was concerned, he was off to a good start. Izzy stroked his hip with the toes of her other foot before slipping it between his legs to caress his straining cock, feeling the heat radiating off of him.

  “Minx,” he accused, catching her foot in his hands and draping it over his shoulder so he could lavish the same attention on her other knee. Once Izzy was breathless and trembling, he pressed his advantage, lavishing her inner thigh with long licks and biting kisses that made Izzy keen with delight, her body boneless with pleasure.

  She gazed down at him, catching a gleam of triumph in his dark eyes that cleared her mind as effectively as a splash of cold water. Delicious as this felt, she hadn’t given him permission to touch her above the knee. If she allowed it, he would ride roughshod over her, and while she would no doubt enjoy it, that wasn’t what she wanted from him. At the theater, he was her boss, but in the bedroom, she was in charge.

  Bracing her feet against his shoulders, Izzy flexed her legs and shoved him away, Robert overbalancing in surprise. He caught himself with a hand on the floor, looking up at her through his tangled hair. “You’re misbehaving,” Izzy reminded him.

  “You liked it,” he protested, unable to completely hide the smug twist of his lips. The damnable man knew perfectly well he’d been pushing the boundaries, his smirk daring her to do something about it.

  He claimed he’d fallen for her because she wasn’t afraid to put him in his place. Izzy was about to test that theory. She stood up and smoothed down her rumpled skirt, breathing slowly and deeply in order to calm her raging lust. For what she was about to do, she would need all her wits about her.

  A half-formed idea had come to her mind as she watched him strip, and now Izzy wondered if she had the nerve to go through with it. Robert watched with trepidation as she crossed to her desk and opened the center drawer, looping the handcuffs around her index finger to display them. “Remember these?”

  “Oh, yes,” he growled, his lips drawing back in a feral smile.

  “Then you know what to do. Lean on the futon, and put your hands behind your back.” Izzy jangled the handcuffs, waiting to see what he’d do.

  Robert watched her for a moment, then crawled forward to kneel on the floor, bracing himself against the futon and crossing his wrists behind him. Despite his compliance, she could still see the smirk on his face. He wanted this, but like everything else, he wasn’t going to make it easy for her. That was fine with Izzy. He could resist all he liked, but she would be the one to win this battle of wills.

  “Good boy,” she praised. He’d obeyed the letter of her command if not the spirit, but if she could persuade him that she was pleased with him, the element of surprise would be on her side. The click of the handcuffs snapping into place made her smile as she tightened the metal around his wrists as much as she could. Robert tugged at the restraint, moaning softly when he found his hands securely bound.

  “I’m very angry with you,” Izzy said, her sweet tone at odds with her words. “You led Kathryn on. You gave me the silent treatment. You assaulted Jon. You’ve been smoking.”

  “I’m sorry,” Robert answered, his voice smooth. He was mouthing the right words, but there was no sincerity in his voice.

  “No, you’re not,” she contradicted, resuming her spot on the futon and letting the keys drop to the floor beside her, the heat of his body caressing her thigh as she sat. Retrieving his tie from where she’d put it down, she displayed it, Robert’s eyes lighting up at the strip of silk.

  “Admit that you’re not sorry,” she dared as he tilted his head back, wordlessly begging her to wrap the tie around his throat.

  “I’m not sorry. I got what I wanted,” he replied, the heat of his gaze making her blood simmer in her veins.

  “If you’d talked to me, you could have had this weeks ago,” she reminded him.

  His careless shrug set her teeth on edge. “I waited four years for you. What’s two more weeks?”

  “If that’s how you feel…” Izzy let her words trail off as she beckoned him to lean closer. Robert obeyed at once, grunting in surprise when she wrapped the tie around his head instead of his neck, the silk slipping between his teeth as she tied a firm knot, gagging him. “You talk too much, Robert.”

  His dark eyes went wide as he tried to speak, the words hopelessly garbled by the makeshift gag, but Izzy recognized a plea when she heard one. Taking pity on him, she said, “If you need to stop, snap your fingers.” She wouldn’t risk doing him any real harm, but his poor behavior over the last few days definitely called for punishment.

  She waited for his nod to confirm that he’d understood then stood back up, retrieving the cane she’d carried all the way home from the theater. “I knew you didn’t really need this, but I’m very glad that you have it,” she reflected, hefting it in her hands to get a feel for its weight and balance. The cane was an attractive accessory, a length of mahogany wood topped with a silver handle decorated with intricate carvings that looked like mystic runes. Izzy certainly hoped she’d be able to work some magic with it.

  Restraining him and controlling his breathing was one thing. Actually striking him was uncharted ground, and as Izzy looked down at him, she almost lost her nerve. Taking the shaft of the cane between her hands, she stepped behind Robert and trailed the handle down his spine, watching his skin quiver at the cold caress of metal. “You could have hurt Jon with this,” she reminded him.

  Robert squirmed at her words, shifting his weight from one knee to the other in apparent protest, and after four years of practice, Izzy could clearly read his thoughts. He was aggravated that she would think about another man while he was naked at her feet.

  His jealousy was as flattering as it was unnecessary, and she decided to reward him. Moving slowly, she trailed the head of the cane down over his buttocks and nudged deeper, carefully insinuating the cool metal into the valley between them.

  Robert’s response was electric. His entire body shuddered at the touch, and the handcuffs jangled as he tugged at his restraints. The gag muffled his howl as he shoved his hips back, demanding more, his upper body supine against the futon. “You like that, do you?” Izzy asked, withdrawing the handle and ignoring his moan of protest.

  Not giving herself a chance to think about it, she flipped the cane so that she was holding the top half and swung it like a baseball bat, landing a firm crack across his ass. Robert keened at the blow, a red stripe coming to life against his skin. “You’re being punished,” Izzy reminded him.

  She more than half expected him to snap his fingers and put an end to the game, so she gave him a moment to collect his wits, her eyes watching the red line darken. She hadn’t hit him hard enough to bruise, but for the next day or so, Robert would be keenly reminded of this encounter every time he tried to sit down. Maybe that would be enough to keep him on his best behavior.

  When he didn’t snap, Izzy swallowed hard and hefted the cane once again, raining a quick flurry of blows down on his ass. None were hard enough to cause any real pain, but she was careful to strike the same spots repeatedly, the increased sensitivity of his skin building the intensity. Pausing for breath, Izzy moved around Robert so she could see the fro
nt of him. Between his legs, his erection was bobbing desperately. Despite Izzy’s misgivings, Robert was clearly loving every moment of his punishment, and the sight of his straining cock gave her new confidence.

  The urge to touch him made her ache, but unfortunately, he was still being punished. She played with the head of his cane, running her fingers over and around it like she’d like to do to his cock, waiting for him to look up at her. Robert was splayed over the seat of the futon, breathing raggedly, but he eventually lifted his head.

  “Are you sorry yet?” she asked.

  Dark eyes glittered defiantly at her from his flushed face, and Izzy hid her smile behind a look of stern disapproval, not at all sorry that their game would continue. “I didn’t think so.” She sighed with mock disappointment, resuming her place behind him.

  As she gathered her thoughts, she took a moment to just look at him, appreciating the sight spread out before her. The long line of his back was decorated with gooseflesh, his fingers twitching where they were snugly held by the handcuffs. His legs were slightly parted, the angle of his body teasing her with fleeting glimpses of his heavy balls. His hips jutted back, calling attention to the flushed skin of his ass and begging for her attention. This powerful man was at her mercy, and Izzy was not inclined to be merciful.

  Pulling her arm back, she swung the cane hard, watching his body jolt as she landed a firm stroke on the same patch of skin she’d first struck. Robert tossed his head, crying out against the gag, but even though she gave him a moment to collect himself, he didn’t snap. Pressing her advantage, Izzy methodically gave him three more blows, each leaving a welt in its wake. These stripes would bruise, forcing Robert to carry the memory of this punishment until they healed. For the next week every time he shifted during a meeting, the ache of his bruises would bring him right back here, reminding him who was really in charge in their relationship.

  The thought sent heat flooding through Izzy’s body, and she pressed her thighs together, desperate for stimulation. She could rip off Robert’s gag and deposit herself in front of him, spreading her legs wantonly and demanding that he please her with his mouth. It would be glorious, but he would enjoy it every bit as much as she would, and she wasn’t done punishing him yet. His behavior had been truly unacceptable, and she needed to make certain that he realized that, otherwise she’d spend the rest of her life dealing with moody outbursts every time he felt like she’d slighted him. That was a bad habit that needed to be nipped in the bud.