I Married a Master

by Melanie Marchande

  "Are you okay?" he glanced at me.

  "Yeah," I said, staring down at my hand, blushing furiously. It was just a superficial scrape. Just a stupid, clumsy slip-up, because all I could think about was Ben's hand resting firmly on my back, pushing me down onto the kitchen table so he could deal out the spanking that I deserved.

  Bullshit, I don't...

  But it didn't matter if I deserved it. I wanted it.

  The question came out in a rush, before I could stop myself. "Is that really how it works? I thought they got to decide when they get spanked."

  "It depends." He set the bottle down, and I could feel him looking at me, even though I refused to meet his eyes. "I don't think you should have anything else to drink right now, do you?"

  Yes. No. I don't know.

  "Maybe not," I conceded.

  "Jenna, look at me."

  I did, swallowing hard.

  "Is it the wine that's making you act like this, or is it something else?" He smiled a little. "I've seen you drink a lot more than this before, and you never acted so..."

  It's because of you. I'm drunk on you.

  Damn it, if I said that out loud, I'd never live it down.

  "It's just weird," I said, a little too loudly. "Us. Alone together. I barely know you, and pretty much all I know about you is what kind of sex you like. That's kind of strange, isn't it? I mean, it's hard not to think about it."

  I wasn't sure if I was making any sense, but he seemed to accept that. "Jenna, if there's anything else you want to know about it, feel free to ask me. That offer always stands. I'll tell you anything you need to know, to feel comfortable with me."

  Well, I was certainly never going to be comfortable. But I appreciated the gesture, nonetheless.

  I had so many questions, still. After that long conversation at his apartment, I still felt like I had no idea what it was like, being his lover. How could I possibly hope to play the role if I didn't even understand something so basic?

  "I guess I do still have questions," I admitted. "I didn't really want to ask, it seems...awkward...I don't know." I twisted my hands together, wishing I was still holding the stupid corkscrew so I'd have something to do with them. "But if I'm supposed to pretend like we're a couple, I need to know what it's really like."

  He raised his eyebrows. "You want details? You might have to dial it down to something more specific. I'm not much of a raconteur."

  I considered for a moment.

  "What do they call you?" I cleared my throat. "I mean, you know, your uh...your submissives? Do they have a special name for you?"

  "I wouldn't call it special." He grinned. "I ask them to call me Mr. Chase, or Sir. They can make other suggestions if they want, but it has to be respectful."

  A few less-than-respectful ideas popped into my head, and I giggled slightly. "What about them? Do you call them something?"

  He nodded, looking thoughtful. "Each one gets their own name," he said. "It has to fit the situation. It has to fit them. I'm pretty good at coming up with something - it's one of my less marketable talents."

  "Oh, boy." I laughed, leaning against the counter. The lighthearted tone of the conversation was putting me more at ease, but it didn't do much to relieve the tension winding up in my body. I wanted...I didn't know what. I just wanted.

  "You think I'm kidding?" He shifted his weight a little, using the opportunity to close some of the small gap between us. Maybe he thought I wouldn't notice, but I most certainly did. "I've got a list of references you can call."

  "I guess I don't know what constitutes a good nickname," I said. "Of course they're going to say they like it. That's part of the game, isn't it?"

  "Trust me." He winked. "I can tell if they like it."

  "What does that mean?" I was pretty sure the temperature in the room just went up by about ten degrees, and there was suddenly a lot less oxygen to be had.

  "You know what I mean." His voice was a little softer, a little lower. We were getting into a dangerous territory now. "I know you wanted details, but I don't know if you want that many details."

  I swallowed hard. "You're telling me you're so good at coming up with pet names, that it's actually a turn-on?" I was trying very hard to keep my voice light. "I mean...okay, sure. I guess."

  "You're so skeptical." He eyed me. "Don't make me prove it."

  My pulse was racing. I wanted him to.

  God damn, did I want him to.

  "A businessman like you should know," I said, arching my eyebrow, while the sensible part of my brain raced to catch up with whatever the hell I was doing. "You gotta put your money where your mouth is."

  "Oh, well then." His mouth twitched. "If that's how we're playing it. But I'm not giving you a pet name for free. You have to earn it."

  I couldn't look him in the eyes. The fingers of his left hand, his dominant hand, were slowly moving, the thumb rubbing against the tips of the other fingers absentmindedly. Like he was getting ready for something.

  "How?" I whispered.

  "You know how." His voice was low and husky.

  I swallowed hard. "A spanking?"

  He nodded. "Just a spanking. No funny business." He rested his hand on the center of his chest. "Cross my heart, Jenna."

  For a moment, I just stared at him. Was I ready to accept what he was offering?

  "What do you say?" He looked me up and down, one more time, the heat of his gaze almost palpable on my skin. "Are you ready to accept your punishment?"

  I wavered, literally and figuratively, a deep blush spreading across my cheeks, and down further. My chest flushed hot as I watched him and tried to imagine his hand connecting with my backside.

  "Hmm," he said, a soft noise that went straight to the heat between my legs. "Are you sure?"

  I nodded.

  He took a step closer, smiling at me. Our eyes were locked, and I couldn't tear myself away if I tried. "There's no going back. Once I tell you, that seals the agreement. Understand?"

  I nodded.

  "Out loud," he said. "I need to hear you say it."

  "Yes," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "Yes, Mr. Chase."

  Abruptly, he closed the gap between us, standing so close that our clothing brushed together. But not quite pressing against me, just close enough to hear my breathing, to inhale my scent. His fingers ghosted along my jaw, my neck, like there was something about me that he needed to absorb before he could decide.

  "You're so damn beautiful," he whispered. "You smell good. I bet you taste good, too." I could hear his smile.

  "Thought you said no funny business," I managed, breathlessly.

  "Fuck. So I did." His fingers paused by my throat. "Sorry about that, sunshine."

  It wasn't so much the name itself, but the way he said it - my lips parted and I actually had to stop myself from making an embarrassing sound. Really?

  Really. He really was that good.

  "It's okay," I whispered.

  "It's not okay," he murmured. "I'm a man of my word. I promise I won't break it again." He exhaled. "Go over to the island, there. Up against the countertop, with your back to me."

  It seemed to take ages to get there, my heels clacking on the polished floor.

  "Bend over, and close your eyes."

  His voice was like honey, luring me into a sense of calm, in spite of what was happening.

  "Put your palms flat on the table," he murmured.

  "What should I do with my head?"

  "Whatever's comfortable," he said. "You may keep it up, or you may rest one cheek on the wood."

  He spoke with a real authority, not the false bravado I'd seen him display in public. Every cell in my body wanted to obey him, before my brain had a chance to intervene and question what the hell I was doing.

  Before I knew it, he was very close. I felt the warmth radiating from his body, the gentle weight of his hand resting on my bottom.

  "Ready?"

  All I could do was nod.

  At the f
irst hit, I cried out.

  It was more from surprise than from pain. And though there was a sharp unpleasant sensation, the thud of his hand vibrated through my body in a remarkably pleasant way.

  Instantly, I came alive. My nerves were singing, a soft buzz of arousal growing between my legs. I could feel myself pulsing all over, from my toes to my fingertips, wanting him to hit me again.

  "Okay?" he asked me, softly.

  I nodded, still unable to speak.

  Smack.

  This time, I wasn't startled, but I couldn't muffle the little groan of pleasure that came from the back of my throat. Shit, was this what I'd been missing my whole life? I would've gladly crawled around the house naked for a month, in exchange for just a few minutes of feeling like this.

  My head was swimming. Were there really people out there who got to feel like this every day? Any time they wanted? Could Ben tell how aroused I was? That wasn't part of the plan. This was supposed to be no funny business.

  We were pretty fucking far from that possibility. He'd half-stolen my breath by now, and I was sure he could hear it. He spanked me three more times in quick succession, and I heard his harsh exhale that I hoped meant he was feeling something too.

  "Do you think you deserve a good girl spanking?" he asked me, his voice a half-whisper that went through to my core. I shuddered.

  "No," I muttered, fingers squeaking against the wood as I tried to brace myself for the next hit. "I've been disrespectful."

  Smack.

  "But didn't you used to think I deserved to be sassed?" His hand lingered this time, resting on my throbbing ass. I purred.

  "You did," I whispered. "But I hardly gave you a chance to make it right. I was unfair."

  I squirmed, and he hit me again. This time, my throaty moan was completely unmistakable.

  I was undone.

  Hearing him breathing behind me, feeling the heat of the connection between his skin and mine, separated only by my skirt, I tried to imagine what he looked like. Were his eyes dark with anticipation? Did he lick his lips?

  "I'm not sure this is a good enough punishment," he said, punctuating with another smack. "What do you think?"

  All I could do was pant, trying to gather my thoughts enough to give some kind of coherent answer.

  "Is it supposed to feel like this?" I whispered, finally.

  He chuckled, a low rumble in his chest. "How does it feel?"

  With a slight movement, he bumped up against my hip, and I felt a heady rush at the urgency of his arousal, searing against me.

  His fingers traced a path up the back of my neck, the blunt ends of his fingernails scraping gently along my scalp, before he grabbed a handful of my hair and tugged sharply. He let it go slack a moment later, but my skin still throbbed. The sensation jolted through me like a lightning strike, and I melted even more.

  I was a mess.

  "Is that too much, sunshine?"

  I shook my head, tears springing to the corners of my eyes at the sudden tug on my hair. He wasn't letting go. And I didn't want him to.

  My legs shook underneath me, and I was sure I wouldn't be able to hold myself up much longer. Whimpering, I pressed my cheek harder into the table, like that could somehow transport me out of this moment of torturous anticipation.

  Suddenly, he pulled back and spanked me again. This time, all pretense was dropped.

  "Mr. Chase," I moaned, feeling my ears start to burn a moment later.

  He laughed, his hand lingering tantalizingly on the base of my ass - where he'd just have to slide his fingers a little bit lower to touch me where I needed him. He smacked me again, lightly this time. I managed to repress my reactions to a slight shudder. His body was suddenly very close to mine, bending over me, caging me in. His hot breaths gusted past my ear, and I felt goosebumps rise all over my skin. His hardness was so close to my aching core that I wanted to scream.

  I moaned helplessly, squirming beneath him, more aroused than I'd ever thought possible.

  "I wish I could touch you." The sound of his voice vibrated through my back. "Find out if you're as turned on as I am. You have no idea how much." He exhaled. "But I can't. That's a damn shame, isn't it?"

  I just whimpered.

  "Of course, I have my suspicions." With a subtle movement, he ground himself against me. I tried to choke back another moan, with little success. "But I can't really know, can I? Not without some funny business."

  Slowly, he stood up, backing away just far enough to slide his fingers under the hem of my skirt. Pushing it up, inch by inch. "Just stop me if I go too far, sunshine. Okay?"

  I nodded.

  "Okay?" he repeated. His fingers were still, burning into my skin.

  My voice was barely recognizable. "Yes, Sir."

  This time, he didn't stop until my skirt was bunched all the way up around my waist. I felt him kneel down, slowly, until he was eye level with the one place on my body that craved him the most.

  "You ever have a man beg to taste you?" he murmured. "Because I gotta say, I am damn close."

  I almost cried out in frustration.

  "But I wouldn't, of course," Ben went on. "That wouldn't be very dominant of me."

  He stood up, suddenly. I felt the heat of his body retreating, and my heart dropped into my stomach.

  "No!" I shouted, standing up so quickly I almost lost my balance. My legs felt like jelly, and everything between my legs was puffy and over-sensitized and my nerves were frayed down as far as they would go. I turned to face him, my skirt still rolled up, my hands balled into fists. "That's not fair!"

  "Not fair?" His eyes glinted. "Oh, sunshine, who ever told you this was going to be fair?"

  With a sudden movement he captured both of my wrists in his hands, holding them immobile in front of me. I struggled halfheartedly, but I was no match for his strength.

  "You're torturing me," I whispered. "Why would you do that?"

  "Torturing?" He raised an eyebrow. "What torturing? You've been telling me for months that you don't want this. That you think it's weird. That I'm basically a caveman for enjoying it. Now, suddenly, you want it all? You want to throw yourself in over your head and fucking drown in it? Doesn't work that way. You've been teasing me for so long. Flirting with me, knowing what kind of man I am. Knowing that I want to put you in your place. Well, this is it. This is what you wanted." He was breathing hard, staring me down. "I'm in control now, sunshine. Now, do you wish you'd never rubbed your tits on my chest?"

  I glared at him. It was impossible to tell how much of this was supposed to be a game, but I didn't want to play anymore.

  "You're in control?" I repeated, hating how much my voice shook.

  He didn't answer.

  "Let me go," I said, quietly.

  He did. Without hesitation, he released my arms, stepping back, some of the wildness leaving his eyes. He worked his mouth open and shut a few times like he meant to speak, but I didn't give him a chance. On legs that felt like they might give out at any moment, I walked towards the foyer, grabbed my purse off the coat hook, and made it to the door before he spoke.

  "Jenna, wait."

  I stopped.

  "Please," he said.

  I turned around, slowly.

  His face was twisted with regret. "Shit, Jenna, I'm sorry. I don't...I don't do this. Like, ever." He raked his hand through his hair. "There's always negotiations beforehand. Fucking contracts, for Christ's sake. I'm not good at spontaneous. I thought..." He let out a long breath. "I thought that's how you wanted me to be."

  I folded my arms across my chest, watching him. He was still visibly aroused, and my body had an instant reaction to the sight, winding me even tighter than before. But I just took a deep breath and watched him squirm.

  "I just want to ask you one more question, Ben," I said. "Can you be a Dom without being an asshole?"

  He let out a tight laugh. "I have it on good authority that I can't breathe oxygen without being an asshole. But if it means you'll
stay...I can try."

  "Good," I said, taking a step towards him. "'Cause I was just bluffing."

  This time, he laughed for real, crossing the room in a few long strides and capturing me, with his arms around my waist. "You've got a hell of a poker face, sunshine."

  "You have no idea." I pressed my hips against his, loving the little groan that escaped the back of his throat.

  He kissed me, hard and fast, just giving me a little taste of his mouth before he withdrew. "Get back in position, babe. We've got unfinished business."

  Laughing breathlessly, I went back to the table and practically hurled myself across it. "That's not my name, Sir."

  "Yeah, sometimes I like to mix it up a little bit." He pulled my skirt back up, letting his hands linger on my ass. "God damn, you are beautiful."

  "You know it's not the names, right?" I gasped as his fingers strayed between my legs. "It's the way you say them."

  "It's both," he replied, kneeling down behind me. "But I'll accept that as a complement anyway."

  Giggling, I squirmed at the feeling of his hot breath on my skin. "Are you going to beg?"

  "That was just a figure of speech. I don't beg. Ever." He brushed his lips against the sensitive skin on my inner thigh, and I shivered all over. "But if that's a sticking point, a man might just ask very fucking nicely."

  I laughed, then whined a little as his teeth grazed me through the soaked fabric of my panties. "Consider this an open invitation to taste me whenever the hell you want, Mr. Chase," I breathed. "But a girl does like to hear please and thank you every now and then."

  "All right, then." He nuzzled against me. "Please might I grab your panties between my teeth, so I can get them out of the way and make you scream my name until you lose your voice?"

  I really hadn't thought it was possible to be more aroused than I already was. But I was wrong.

  "Yes," I managed.

  "Thank you."

  He made good on his promise.

  My knees buckled, pleasure rippling up my spine and making me cry out helplessly. Scrabbling for my grip on the table, I tried to hold myself up, but a moment later his hands planted firmly on the backs of my thighs. He was pressing me hard against the wood, and I'd have bruises, but all I cared about was his tongue.