Bound, Spanked and Loved: Fourteen Kinky Valentine's Day Stories

by Sierra Cartwright

  Her stepbrother of all people.

  “I knew I’d find you here.”

  Ariel screamed, and her ice cream container went flying. The spoon clattered to the floor.

  *****

  The pinkness of her nose matched her fluffy robe. Ariel had been crying. Something had upset her. Of course, he’d figured that out from the way she fled the party. Hunter picked up the empty carton and the spoon. He tossed the carton in the kitchen trash, the spoon in the sink, and returned to the great room.

  “What are you doing here?” Ariel stood on her feet.

  “Isn’t it obvious? I came after you.”

  “You didn’t need to do that. I’m fine.”

  “Is that why you ran? Why you were crying your eyes out? Why you’re sitting here alone? Tell me what’s happening.”

  “I can’t. Go home. Go back to Sienna.”

  “I’m not going home until you and I talk. And I’m damn sure not going to Sienna.”

  “But-but—I thought...”

  “You thought?” he prompted.

  “Didn’t you announce your engagement?”

  “Hell no! Are you kidding me? Why would you think that?”

  “The way she kept touching you, staring at you. You didn’t discourage her.”

  Hunter grimaced. “Yeah, she did that. But I didn’t want to cause a scene at Mom and Dad’s party.”

  “What about the ring?”

  “Ring?”

  “The one she was wearing.”

  He shrugged. “She was engaged to some other guy but didn’t give back the ring. Is that why you ran? You thought Sienna and I were getting married?”

  Ariel nodded and ducked her head.

  Hunter had to try hard to keep a stupid, relieved grin off his face. She’s jealous. “Look at me, please.”

  For a moment, she didn’t respond then she raised her head.

  “I am not, nor will I ever be, interested in Sienna.”

  “You were once.”

  When he was young, horny, and stupid and would have fucked anything that moved. But Sienna had been a pretty package with nothing inside the box. “Only until I wised up.” But almost not fast enough. He’d been too dumb to see what had been right in front of him all along. “Forget Sienna.” He dismissed her with a wave. “I came to see you.”

  “Me?” She clutched the lapels of her fuzzy robe.

  “You.” He closed the distance and gently pried open her fingers, taking her hand in his. He raised it to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. She blushed, and his groin tightened as he imagined painting her lower cheeks the same rosy hue. Doubts could best be settled over his lap. “You had a big crush on me when we were kids. I’m hoping you still do because, Ariel Petyon, I love you.”

  She flinched as if he’d slapped her, wrenched her hand out of his grasp, and backed away. “No! We can’t—you’re my brother.”

  “Step. No relation. If we’d met each other first, our parents would have been in-laws. If they had opted to get married, people would have remarked on the happy coincidence that they met each other through us. And, technically, you and I would still be steps.”

  “People will talk.”

  “I’m not going to live my life for other people. Are you?”

  “Mom and Dad...”

  “Might need to get used to it,” he agreed with a nod. “But they found their happiness. Shouldn’t we find ours?”

  Ariel didn’t move. Just stood there, gaping at him like he’d lost his mind. He’d declared his love, but she hadn’t said anything. Certainty slipped. Had he waited too long? Had her feelings changed?

  But he’d made up his mind. He hadn’t come this far to lose. Perhaps words weren’t enough. Maybe a demonstration was in order. He stalked toward her.

  “What are you doing?” She backed up until she bumped into the large sideboard and knocked over several framed family photos.

  “This.” He tilted her chin, lowered his head, and slanted his mouth over hers.

  She moaned. Protest? Capitulation? A little of both. Like her hands. The right one came up to push against his chest; the left clutched his shirt as if she never wanted to let him go. Hunter pulled her tight against him, holding her as he’d yearned to for so long, letting her feel his need in his hard-on straining the zipper of his pants.

  “Hunter...” she said his name on a breathy whisper.

  He took advantage of her parted lips to deepen the kiss. Her tongue met his, shyly at first, hesitantly, but then resistance gave way, and she surrendered to what had been inevitable since he’d walked through the door. Her right hand joined the left to clutch at his shirt. He growled.

  He tangled his fingers in her hair, holding her against him as he plundered, claiming what was his, what had always been his. What could have been his sooner, if he’d hadn’t been so stupid.

  She smelled like vanilla and tasted like chocolate mint. He scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the enormous leather sectional sofa and settled her on his lap. She curled her arms around his neck.

  Actions spoke louder than words, but he still needed the words to seal the deal, to ensure no misunderstandings remained. Her body melted against his, but she still hadn’t told him how she felt.

  The answer glowed in her eyes, but between Dominants and their submissive partners, communication needed to be frank and open. “Tell me,” he ordered.

  “I love you,” she said. “I always have.”

  He kissed her again, staking a claim for life. From her mouth, he trailed his lips along her jaw then down to her throat. She arched her neck, giving him full access. A lovely curve. Smooth skin. A racing pulse. He nipped. They needed to settle some stuff. A lot of stuff. “Don’t run from me again,” he said sternly, but he didn’t blame her. He’d run the fastest and the furthest. Had run into the arms of too many other women in an attempt to outrun his feelings for her—until he ran smack into the truth. He loved her, and no other woman would do.

  “No.”

  “Sir,” he instructed.

  “No, sir.” Her husky voice would have given him a woody if he didn’t already have one.

  “I’ll only come after you.” He slipped his hand through the open lapels of her robe and under her pajama shirt to cup her breast. She sucked in a breath through parted lips as he stroked the beaded tip to greater hardness. He watched her face as he pinched and rolled her nipples, enjoying the play of expressions, noting her reactions, gauging her pain tolerance.

  He pushed her robe off her shoulders to puddle around her hips then tugged up her shirt and captured a reddened stiff bud in his mouth. With tongue and teeth, he teased moans of pleasure from her lips. She had sweet, sexy breasts, not too large but a good handful. Her rounded bottom pressed against his aching erection. Soon he would be inside her, would have her bottom up over his lap, and might even fuck her ass. But before they progressed to that level, a clear base of understanding needed to be established.

  Actions did speak louder than words.

  He tugged at her pajama shirt. “Take this off. The rest, too.” He eased her off his lap and tossed her robe onto the floor then rested his hands on his spread knees.

  “B-but...what about...aren’t you...” Aren’t you going to undress? He could read the question in her eyes.

  “Just do as I tell you.”

  With only a slight hesitation, she stripped.

  Then, with her hands fidgeting at her sides, she waited, like a good subbie. A natural.

  From her rounded breasts, his gaze traveled over her tummy. A tiny gold ring pierced her navel. He didn’t remember that from summers at the lake or in the parents’ pool. “Is this new?” he asked.

  “I got it a couple of years ago.”

  “I like it.” It was sexy as hell and suggested she might consent to having her nipples or clitoral hood pierced. He eyed her mound. Bare. Perfect. He continued his slow visual tour, following the long lines of her legs down to her rosy toenails and then back up again t
o her face.

  A blush tinted her cheekbones, but desire flickered in her eyes. She liked being on display for him. He’d bet anything her pussy was sopping wet.

  Submissive to his Dominant. Feminine to his masculine. Light to his darkness. His perfect partner. What a fool he’d been to wait so long. Lust surged, and the need to stake his claim swelled, but he forced back the urge.

  First things first. “I left a duffel by the front door. Please bring it to me.”

  She left the room. He admired the backside view. Her ass belonged to him.

  She came back with the bag.

  “Set it there.” He pointed to a spot beside the sofa.

  Curiosity lit her gaze, but she didn’t ask about it. He liked how she waited for his instruction. He’d do more than that. He’d show her. He wasn’t sure yet how much of the bag’s contents he would use tonight, but he wanted his supplies within easy reach. “At the party, I was going to tell you about the Rod and Cane Society.”

  That got a reaction. She planted her hands on her hips. “You want to talk about that now?” She looked so cute standing their naked and feisty. Not cute—fucking amazing. His fantasy come to life. He desired an obedient, submissive partner, but not a doormat.

  “It bears on what’s going to happen next.”

  “Aren’t we going to have sex?”

  “Yes, but not until after I spank you.”

  Chapter Four

  “Spank me?” she squeaked. Had he really said that? The simmering desire flared into a bonfire. Hot need coiled and snapped. Memories of the night she caught him with his girlfriend roared to vivid life. “Why?”

  Because I need it. I’m sooo naughty. Oh god, she wanted to be spanked by him. Craved the sting of his hand on her ass, the sharp smacking sound, the act of surrender, of letting him have his wicked way. So wicked. Oh so wicked. She understood now why she was happiest following him around like a puppy dog, doing his bidding, finding fulfillment in his satisfaction. Yes, sir, no, sir. Tie me up, sir.

  “We passed the getting-to-know you stage long ago; I don’t see a need to delay when we’ve wasted so much time already. I want you, Ariel. In my life, in my bed, over my lap. Especially over my lap.”

  He patted his thigh. “Now.”

  Trying to act cool and not like a Fourth of July extravaganza was skyrocketing through her body, she draped herself across his lap. He adjusted her position, lifting her bottom so it stuck out. At the prod of his erection against her hip, her breath caught in her throat. She’d turned him on. He desired her. She still couldn’t believe it.

  He cupped her ass cheek, his palm rough and cool against her heated skin. She’d always admired his large man hands. How much more masculine they seemed now. She braced for a smack, but instead he stroked her skin, teasing her with the lightness of his touch, promising, but not yet delivering.

  “When we’re like this, you’ll call me sir,” Hunter said, and squeezed a mound.

  Her insides quivered. “Yes, sir.” Sir. Sir. Sir. She could call him sir all day and never tire of it.

  “Spread your legs. Show me that pussy.”

  She widened her thighs, eager to give him anything and everything he asked for.

  “That’s my girl.”

  His girl. His. She always had been. Her chest could have burst with happiness. Maybe it already had. She ached with love for him.

  He smoothed his hand over her buttocks again and then dipped between her thighs to delve into the source of her wetness. One finger then two plundered her pussy. Oh yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. With two fingers still deep inside her, he pressed his thumb to her rosebud. Her breath caught in her throat. No one had ever touched her there, but if Hunter wanted that, then she wanted it, too.

  “Your pussy, your ass—they belong to me.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He removed his hands to stroke her butt again, massaging more briskly this time. “You scared everyone by running out like that,” he chided.

  So focused on him, his presence, his scent, his hands, and what it all was doing to her body, it took a moment for his words to register. “I’m sorry. I texted everyone.”

  “Do you think that sufficed?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Neither do I.”

  A sharp pain splintered across her ass. Ariel jerked and cried out. He landed another hard spank to the other side. Two in rapid succession to one cheek. Then a double strike to the other. Stinging, hard. The burn didn’t have time to dissipate before he landed another blow. “Hunter, sir...” Ariel twisted and bucked on his lap to avoid the burst of fire, while simultaneously needing it. In her core, she hungered.

  She hadn’t expected a spanking to be so fast, so steady. He alternated sides, beating a rhythm that tenderized her ass. The sharp cracks of the spanking merged with the popping of the flames. Fire music.

  He stopped. Heat shimmered across her backside in radiating ripples. Was it over? Relief and disappointment warred. The spanking hurt more than she had expected, but she didn’t want it to end yet! He shifted her on his lap, adjusting her bottom, raising it higher. His cock, hard as stone, poked her hip.

  Hunter slid his fingers between her legs, and she realized her inner thighs were damp. She’d never been so aroused, the moisture pooling and seeping. She’d probably left a huge wet spot on the leg of his slacks.

  “Ah, Ariel. My submissive Ariel,” he growled as he thrust his fingers deep. She whimpered with the bliss of it, her muscles clenching, squeezing, grinding her pelvis against his thigh, needing ultimate satisfaction.

  His hand froze. “You’re not trying to come, are you?”

  It was exactly what she was attempting to do. She was about to lie then reconsidered. “Yes,” she admitted in a small voice.

  “Did I give you permission?”

  “No...sir.”

  “Remember what I said?” He thrust his fingers hard into her channel before withdrawing to pinch her clit roughly. A sting of rapture cut deep. He traced her sphincter, and this time he breached her entrance, pushing in to the knuckle. Foreign. Disturbing. “Your body is mine. I’ll have you coming until you scream, but only when I allow it. If you need to come, you must ask permission.”

  His probing finger lit up nerve endings. She didn’t want to disappoint him, but she needed to come, doubted she could hold back. “May I come?”

  “No,” he said, “not yet. Ask me to spank you. Beg me. Show me how much you want this.”

  Oh god, she did. She needed the loving castigation. “Please, sir. Spank me.” She lifted her bottom, ready for more sharp kisses. Where there had been pain and pleasure, now there was only pleasure, a warm throb diminishing fast, fading to memory. Her ass could take so much more.

  “How do you want it?”

  “Hard. Spank me hard.”

  Holding her snug against him, Hunter leaned over and grabbed the duffel she’d carried in. He unzipped it and withdrew something solid and white encased in a baggie along with a strip of leather resembling a belt with the buckle removed.

  “This is ginger.” He dangled the bag.

  She wrinkled her nose. What was he going to do with that? He took it out of the bag, and she saw it was shaped like a thick finger, but graduated, with a notch on one end. Her heart pounded, and she averted her face. She had a bad feeling about that piece of ginger.

  “Ariel, look at me,” Hunter’s voice commanded, but his hand gentled as he brushed the hair from her face.

  She peered at him over her shoulder.

  “Do you trust me?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I’m going to insert this in your bottom.”

  Oh god. She was afraid of that! Well, not really afraid, but...nervous?

  He stroked her cheek. “I’m moving faster than I would ordinarily, but we’ve known each other for a long time, and we’re ready for this. You’re ready for this.”

  “I trust you.”

  White teeth flashed, his approval suffusing her with warmth. A
ll the long, hopeless years of yearning meant nothing compared to that smile. “Spread your cheeks for me, then, sweetheart.”

  Ariel pressed her face into the sofa cushion and reached back with both hands to separate her buttocks. How would she ever sit on this sofa with her parents? She squeezed her eyes shut.

  She wasn’t aware she was tensing until Hunter rubbed her back. “Relax. Can you do that?”

  “I’ll try.” She did her best.

  She jumped when the ginger touched her back hole. The vegetable finger felt cold and wet. Relax. Relax. She practiced some yoga breathing, and Hunter slid the ginger inside. “Okay?” he asked.

  Her senses went haywire to reconcile having a foreign object shoved up her ass by the stepbrother she’d pined for but had never even dated. The best Valentine’s Day ever. “Okay,” she replied. “It’s...cold.”

  He chuckled. “Give it a sec.”

  She contracted her muscles. Cold ramped right up to...toasty. “Oh!”

  Hunter laughed again. “I think we’re ready.” He brought his open palm down on her ass.

  She tensed her buttocks against the sting, and the ginger lit a fire in her passage. “Oh-ah!” she cried out.

  He rained a dozen hand spanks against her flesh, rewarming the outside while the ginger heated the inside. He paused, leaned over. She glanced over her shoulder to see Hunter looping the belt around his fist. Ariel gulped and averted her gaze. A streak seared both cheeks. She yelped and clenched. Flames seared her inner passage, spreading heat clear to her clit. Her ass hated the ginger; her clit and pussy loved it. Arousal throbbed between her legs.

  Pain-pleasure-pleasure-pain, two sides of an ever-spinning coin.

  “Beg me, Ariel,” he growled.

  “Spank me, sir, harder, sir. Harder,” she cried, loving every hated lash of the belt. With each stroke, she fell deeper into his thrall.

  “Would you like to come?”

  “Please, may I?”

  “Ten lashes. Take ten more and then you can come. Can you do that for me, Ariel?”

  Her ass blazed, an inferno inside and outside, her nerves raw. For him, she’d take twenty lashes, thirty, however many he wanted. “Yes, sir!” Her voice came out high and reedy, near tears.

  Crack! The belt snapped against her burning flesh, and she whimpered. Crack! She bucked and twisted on his lap. Harsh. Painful. Lovely. Pleasurable. So much pleasure. Her head spun, danced with the flames licking her body.