Mr. Blakely

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Mr. Blakely Page 7

by Webster, K


  Silky but plain white.

  So innocent.

  “Let me see them. Are they wet?” I swivel in my chair to face her and spread my thighs apart. She lets out a yelp when I grab her hips to haul her closer. Her palms rest on my shoulders as I stare at her. I reach between her legs and am satisfied to discover her panties are drenched. All this shit turns her on just as much as it does me.

  “Take off my belt,” I order, my voice husky. “Take it off and give it to me.”

  Her nervous brown eyes meet mine but she clumsily sets to undoing my belt. My cock is painful. Everything in me craves to take over her slow movements so I can whip my cock out and take her. She eventually manages to undo the belt and slide it from the loops around my waist. Her nostrils flare when she hands it to me. I can tell she’s equal parts terrified and turned on.

  I grip my belt in one hand and tug her to sit on my knee with my other hand. Gently, I palm her thigh in slow circles.

  “I’m going to have to punish you so you know not to take rides with bad boys,” I explain in a firm tone. “It’s going to hurt when I whip you.”

  “You’re going to spank me?” Her eyes widen as she stares at me so fucking innocently. “I’m scared.”

  “I was scared when I got that call from the sheriff. Fucking terrified something had happened to you and the boys,” I grit out.

  Understanding washes over her features. “I’m sorry.”

  “I know, baby,” I murmur. “But you’re still not getting out of your spanking.”

  She lifts her chin. “I’m ready to get it over with.”

  Before she can think it over too much, I manhandle her until she’s lying across my lap with her ass right in front of me. She whimpers and squirms. I’m sure she can feel how hard she makes me because my erection is poking into her ribs. I grab the back of her panties and wrench them down her hips just past her porcelain ass. When I drag the leather of my belt across her smooth skin, she shudders.

  Whap!

  Whap!

  Whap!

  I spank her hard and fast. Three times. That was always how many I’d spank the boys when they’d done something rotten when they were younger. Anything more, in my eyes, felt like abuse. Three was enough to get the painful point across.

  A loud, horrified wail rips from Ava, effectively breaking my heart in the process.

  Her ass smarts with three crimson stripes. It’s beautiful and sad all at once.

  “Come here, mon petit oiseau,” I coo as I pull her up against my chest.

  She sobs and I cradle her small body. My hands—the same ones responsible for her pain—smooth over her to comfort her. I hold her tight, hugging away the hurt.

  “Are you going to take rides with people anymore?” I ask in a firm tone.

  “No,” she breathes, her hot breath tickling my throat.

  “Are you going to be a good girl who lets her man take care of her?”

  Her head tilts up so she can look at me. “Yes.”

  “Remember what you are to me?”

  She bites her bottom lip and lust swims in her gaze. Her normally innocent features are gone. Sweet Ava gets turned on by a good ass whipping.

  Noted, sweetheart. Fucking noted.

  “Yours?” Her word is breathy and her lips quirk up on one side in a sexy smile.

  “Yes,” I reply, pleasure in my voice. “Mine.”

  Chapter Ten

  Ava

  I screwed up. Horribly. Quinn has all these rules for a reason. It seemed like a good idea at the time but looking back, I know I made a bad decision. Chad’s car doesn’t even have seatbelts. Had he gotten in an accident...

  My entire body shudders at the thought.

  “Hey,” Quinn says in a soft, sweet voice. His hand pushes my panties past my knees and then I kick them to the floor. He grabs my waist and helps me straddle him. My ass hurts where he whipped me.

  “Look at me,” he commands, his fingers pushing my chin up.

  I can’t hide the shame. For so long I’ve tried to make good decisions and be well-behaved. After Dad died, I didn’t want my mom to have to struggle any more than she already was. Not only did she lose her husband, but she suddenly had to be the sole breadwinner and care for a kid all by herself. I’d been fourteen when it happened. I could have rebelled but instead, I did my best to make sure everything was easier on her.

  “It was one mistake,” he says, his palm roaming my bare hip.

  “I’m just sick about it,” I admit, my bottom lip wobbling.

  His palm finds my throat and grips me in a possessive way. Then, he pulls me closer to him. His steely gray eyes are hard but when his lips press to mine, they’re soft. I get lost in his consuming kiss. Before long, all frustrations with myself have been forgotten as I shamelessly grind against his hard cock in his slacks. With a needy growl, he yanks the bottom of my shirt and tugs it from my body. His deft fingers unclasp my bra a second before it’s flung away.

  I’m naked.

  He’s completely dressed.

  That’s a huge problem.

  “I need you,” I whisper against his mouth.

  He reaches between us to unzip his slacks. I set to unbuttoning his dress shirt. I’ve barely made it three buttons down when he grips my hips and guides me down over his thick erection. My fingers twist into the fabric of his shirt as a pained moan escapes me.

  He’s so big.

  So all-consuming.

  “Your slippery cunt missed me,” he murmurs, his mouth seeking mine. I let out a yelp of delight when his fingers rub at my clit.

  “You’re so big,” I murmur.

  “I want you to ride me this time, mon petit oiseau. Show me what feels good.” His teeth nip at my throat which makes me jolt and my pussy clench. It’s a delicious reminder that I’m filled to the hilt with him.

  I start rocking my hips in an experimental way. I’ve only ever had sex once and he was in control. With me on top, I’m not sure what I should be doing. So I let my body lead the way. His fingers are generous as they massage against my clit in a way that feels way too good. Even though I’m stretched as far as my body will allow around his thickness, it doesn’t hurt this time.

  It’s exciting.

  Quinn can’t help but buck his hips up every so often. I love that he seems to be just as consumed with me as I am with him. This turns me on even more. I claw at his shoulders and kiss him hard, all while working my hips in a way that sends ripples of pleasure washing over me.

  The sensations are wild.

  Overwhelming.

  Too much.

  With a shriek, I come hard. My entire body jolts from an orgasm that tries to steal my soul. He lets out a low sound of pleasure. Hot come jets inside of me before he’s yanking me off his cock. His throbbing length rubs between us and I watch in awe as he shoots the rest of his orgasm all over his half-unbuttoned shirt, soaking it.

  Our eyes meet and his steely grays are positively flickering with possessiveness. I want to live in his gaze.

  “I lose control around you.”

  I lean forward and kiss his sexy lips. “I like when you lose control.”

  * * *

  After my spanking and then some hot sex in Quinn’s office, he carried me upstairs and washed me in the shower. He’s so attentive and caring. Sure, he’s cold and brutal outwardly but once you get to know him, he’s actually soft.

  I’m falling for him.

  It’s so easy to do.

  He consumes me but stops just before obliterating me completely.

  When he went outside to help the boys finish up, I took it upon myself to root around in the kitchen. Being that I spend so much time by myself, I never get to cook for anyone. Mom is always running off to work and when she’s home, she chain-smokes and eats like a bird. Dad and I used
to cook together before he passed away and it’s something I didn’t realize I’d missed until I opened Quinn’s pantry and saw the possibilities before me.

  “Whatcha doing?” Aiden asks, his hair still dripping from a recent shower.

  I nod my head to the stove. “Making dinner. Want to help?”

  His eyes widen and he nods. “I like to cook.”

  “Me too,” I agree, beaming. “Chop up those veggies for a salad.”

  He happily takes the knife and starts working through the pile. We fall into easy conversation where he asks about what college I’m going to and I question him about his future. Aiden tells me he wants to be an engineer but he hates math. We discuss other careers that are similar but without the numbers. He’s not interested in those. Finally, once I get the tomato sauce simmering and the salad is put away in the fridge, I send him on his way to fetch his Algebra book.

  Anthony stalks through the kitchen long enough to grab a Coke from the fridge and to send us an annoyed glare before he disappears. I spend the next twenty minutes explaining Aiden’s newest homework assignment in a way he seems to understand. I’m so engrossed in showing him memory shortcuts that I almost forget I have stuff cooking on the stove.

  I let out a shriek but when I turn around, Quinn is stirring the sauce while watching me. His chiseled jaw clenches. Intensity ripples from him as it always does, but this time I feel it in my bones. I’m never sure if I make him happy or mad. There’s such a fine line between those two with him.

  “Thanks,” I breathe as I start for the stove.

  He smirks, his first tell he’s not angry, and nods toward Aiden. “Finish up with him. I’ll take over here.”

  I flash him a grateful smile before Aiden and I work through the last of his problems.

  “Math isn’t so bad when you explain it,” he says later as he chomps through the spaghetti I made. Then he groans. “Man, this is good. Can we keep her, Dad?”

  Pride fills my chest and Quinn winks at me.

  Anthony snorts. “She’s just paid help. Don’t get too attached.”

  Quinn glares at his son, his jaw clenching. “That was uncalled for.”

  “It’s fine,” I mutter, my cheeks heating with embarrassment. Despite whatever it is that’s brewing between Quinn and me, Anthony is right. I’m here to do a job—a job I desperately need.

  “Disrespect is never fine,” he snaps. “Anthony, apologize.”

  I can’t tear my gaze from my food. Anthony drops his fork to the plate with a loud clatter.

  “Why?” he demands. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  Quinn’s fist slams on the table. “Goddammit, son. You’ve been pushing the limits all weekend. What’s your problem?”

  I look up in time to see Anthony’s fiery gaze stare down his father. His nostrils flare with anger. The tension is awkward. Aiden shoots me a gentle smile that has me calming considerably—a smile that says, They do this all the time.

  “Did you ever stop to consider how embarrassing it is when other kids find out that we have a babysitter?” Anthony snarls. “We’re not kids anymore, Dad.”

  Quinn’s teeth grind together as he glares at his son. “You’ll understand when you’re a father,” he says coolly.

  “Make me understand now,” Anthony challenges, rising to his feet.

  Quinn’s chair scrapes across the wood floors as he mimics his son’s action. “I need to keep you in line so you don’t turn out like your selfish mother. Is that what you wanted to hear? Jesus Christ!” He tosses his napkin onto the plate and storms off.

  Anthony’s anger deflates and his features fall. My heart breaks that they’re having problems.

  Aiden slurps up the rest of his spaghetti and abandons his plate. “On that note, I’m out.”

  I push away my food, no longer hungry, and frown at Anthony. “Are you okay?”

  His eyes dart to mine and for once they aren’t flaring with fury. Sadness flickers in his gaze. “I wouldn’t leave Dad to go do something stupid like Mom did. I’m not like her.”

  No, you’re just like him.

  “He knows that,” I assure him.

  He rubs the back of his neck with his palm and shrugs. “I wish he’d stop worrying so much.”

  I stand and start collecting the dishes. “It’s his job to worry.” I bite on my bottom lip. “At least your only parent worries. Mine could care less. She throws herself into her job and I’m only an afterthought.”

  “Dad works a lot too,” he argues as he picks up his plate.

  “But he’s still involved,” I say gently. “Even if sometimes too involved.”

  I’m surprised when he deposits the plate in the sink and starts unloading the dishwasher. We don’t speak anymore of his falling out with his father but together we clean the kitchen. When we finish, I’m surprised when he hugs me.

  “Thank you,” he mutters and then pulls away.

  “For what?”

  “For listening to me. Nobody listens anymore.” His eyes shimmer briefly with emotion.

  I pin him with a serious stare. “I’ll always listen,” I assure him. “Even if I don’t have this job tomorrow, I’m always here for you. Okay?”

  He nods and holds out his fist. Smirking, I bump it with mine.

  “You’re all right in my book, Ava. Even if you do want to bone my dad.” His gaze is mischievous. When my cheeks blaze with heat, he laughs. “I fucking knew it.”

  “Language!” I shriek and swat at him with a dish towel.

  He rolls his eyes but the smile remains. It falls though when Quinn walks back into the kitchen.

  “Anthony,” he says in a gruff tone. “I’m taking Ava to run some errands. Will you be okay with Aiden while I’m gone?”

  Anthony stiffens and jerks his head toward his dad. “You mean you’ll leave us home alone? At night?”

  “If you feel you’re mature and responsible enough, then yes. You know the rules. Don’t break my trust,” Quinn warns.

  Anthony face lights up. “Yeah. We can handle it, Dad.”

  “Good. I’m counting on you.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Quinn

  “Yes.”

  “No.”

  “Don’t tell me no,” I warn.

  She eyeballs me from the driver’s seat of the brand-new Honda Pilot and shakes her head. “I can’t. It’s too expensive. What if I crash it?”

  Smirking, I lean back in the passenger seat and kick my feet up on the dash. “You’re missing precious study time arguing with me.”

  She huffs in frustration and fuck if it isn’t the cutest sound ever. “You’re stubborn. Anyone ever tell you that?”

  “Anyone ever tell you that for a good girl you’re sometimes very bad?” I ask with a laugh. “Just drive the damn car back to my house.”

  It probably seems impulsive or stupid, but buying another car—one she could use to cart around the twins—was the answer to the transportation problem. It’s safe and big enough for her and the boys.

  “I’ve only ever driven my mom’s car and it breaks down half the time. I don’t think I’ve ever even sat in a car this nice,” she says with a sigh before turning over the engine. The car purrs quietly. I’m patient as she fiddles with the air and mashes different buttons to see what they do. I want her to get really acquainted with this car because it’s hers.

  Once she seems comfortable, she starts driving. I can tell she’s nervous but her smile says she’s excited too. Pride thumps in my chest and I wonder what else I can give to her to keep her looking so happy.

  Earlier, when she’d helped Aiden with his worst subject, I’d been awed how easily she got through to him. Usually, he and I go head to head when I try to assist him. It ends up with him checking out mentally. He’s not like Anthony, who’s a hothead. Aiden bottles up his em
otions. When he’s frustrated, he simply goes neutral and becomes ultra-compliant. But with Ava, he was engaged. He had fun with it and I could see the wheels turning in his head. She was helping him understand it in a way he could retain. It was fucking beautiful to watch.

  I’d thought maybe the night would be ruined though when Anthony made a scene at dinner. He called me out on my strict ways in front of everyone. I had been so pissed, I had to leave before I said something too brutal that he wouldn’t forgive me for. When I’d cooled off and came to apologize, I overheard him talking to Ava. She was so gentle and understanding. Soft. The boys have had so much hardness from me that they need a little sweetness in their life. Hell, we all do. Sammie wasn’t sweet at all. She was self-obsessed and didn’t give any of us the time of day. For once in a long time, we all have someone who seems to listen and care about how we’re feeling.

  “Am I supposed to drive this thing to school?” she asks, her teeth chattering together nervously. “I guess I would if I have to pick them up in it. I just feel guilty because it’s your new car and—”

  “Your new car,” I correct.

  She darts her gaze my way, confusion marring her pretty features. “What?”

  “I bought this car for you. It’s yours. Drive it whenever or wherever you want.”

  Her head shakes as if to clear the words from her brain. “I don’t understand.”

  “What’s there to understand?” I ask as I palm her thigh over jeans. “I bought you a car.”

  She presses her lips together and stares straight ahead. The silence is almost unbearable. For the entire drive back to the house, she’s too quiet. Once we’re parked in the driveway and the car shuts off, she turns to frown at me.

  “I’m not a charity case,” she breathes, embarrassment painting her cheeks crimson.

  “Never said you were,” I say in a matter of fact tone. “But what I did say was you are mine. I take care of what’s mine. If I want to buy you a damn car, I’ll buy you a damn car.”

 

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