Smack…
His hand rained over my ass over and over. The thin cotton of the t-shirt I was wearing provided little to no protection between his hand and my bare flesh.
“Sir. SIR,” I screamed out correcting my mistake.
“What was that?”
“Yes. Sir,” I cried out begging him to stop.
A new wave of shame washed over me. Through the tears and pain, I was ashamed because I was becoming aroused. What would he think of me now? Could his opinion get any worse? Was I so sick and twisted that I was getting off on him spanking me?
“We have a long way to go, but I promise, I will get you there.” With that he turned away, leaving me lying face down on the bed.
I pulled my legs up onto the bed and curled into a ball. Tears streamed down my face. It wasn’t the pain from him slapping my ass repeatedly. It was the pain from the shame and embarrassment. I was ashamed of my actions and even more ashamed of the slick wetness between my legs.
The dipping of the bed startled me. Klaus lay on the bed behind me. I held still as his hands gently raised my shirt up over my ass, exposing my bare flesh to him. His hand gently caresses the globes of my ass. “Onto your stomach.” I rolled over for him. My ass on full display. His hands gently rubbed cream onto my flesh sending goosebumps up my arms and legs.
“The pain will fade. The lesson, however, will hopefully stick. Do you think you have learned your lesson?” He asked. Though his tone was soft and comforting it held an edge.
“Yes, Sir.” I moaned against the mattress. His hands felt wonderful on my ass. I closed my eyes and imagined him slipping a finger between my slick wet folds. I was met with disappointment when his hand left my ass as he stood to leave.
“You have an hour to be ready and into the office to work. Everything you need is laid out in the bathroom. Shower and dress.” He said before shutting the bedroom door.
I knew there was no way I could escape right now. He would be on guard. A part of me wished that he would ask me to stay, not because he wanted to watch me, but because he wanted me the same way I wanted him.
Chapter Fourteen
Klaus
I had to leave her before I did something I would regret. I had gone in to punish her. Make her see that her actions had consequences. What I hadn’t expected was for her to be so responsive to my touch, my demand. When my hand drew back revealing her wetness only to smack her again and feel it splash against my hand… it killed me. My cock throbbed between my legs begging to take what was so ready and willing. I knew I had to step away. I knew I needed to put some space between us. It was wrong to take advantage of her, but that didn’t keep my cock from begging to be buried deep inside her wet cunt.
When I came back with the cream for her ass my heart ached to see her there curled into a ball crying. I did that. I made her cry. I knew it was for her own good but that didn’t make it hurt any less. I had to remind myself that she needed it. She needed the punishment. She needed someone to guide her in the right direction and correct her when she made mistakes.
Caressing her ass was like torture. I could feel the precum slick on the side of my leg as I caressed her ass, massaging the cream into her red heated flesh. Her hips bucking against my hand and the needy moans that escaped her lips had me aching with a need that drew sweat to my temples. I knew I was playing a risky game, not only were there the risk for her, but for myself as well.
I sat back at my desk in the office, my eyes locked on the clock on the screen of my computer. Shelby had arrived promptly one hour later, showered and dressed in the outfit I had laid out for her. My cock twitched as she entered the room. My eyes first taking in the black stilettos I had laid out for her to wear then traveling up her long smooth legs to the short black pencil skirt I had picked out.
She looked uncomfortable as she fidgeted with the hem of her short sleeved white button up. The top three buttons lay open, exposing the flesh of her large perky breast covered by the bright pink lace bra. She looked better than I imagined she would. I bit back a growl that threatened to burst from my lips.
Her hair was drawn back into a tight French plait, accentuating her neck, tempting my hands to wrap around it, holding her in place as she choked on my cock.
“Sit, you have work to do. Lunch will be ready shortly.” I commanded. I love the way her body reacted to my voice, she was always alert and snapped to action.
I watched her from the corner of my eye as she scurried over to her desk. I had no idea why I tortured myself like this. Watching the sway of her ass as she passed by my desk had me at the end of my rope. There was no way I would be able to get any work done.
Completely unaware of the way she was affecting me, Shelby got to work, firing up her screen and opened the files that lay neatly stacked on her desk.
The time seemed to fly by. My eyes never drifting far from her. she was mesmerizing to watch. She dove into her work, head first. A pen clenched between her lips making me wish it was my cock. I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. I would be taking a cold shower tonight. I would probably need a long one after watching her work all day in the same room as me.
I imagined having her on her knees, her hands bound behind her back, my cock between her lips. I would make her beg for it as I fed her my cock, inch by inch.
Edgar interrupted us from our work, and me from my sordid thoughts, letting us know that lunch was ready. Shelby had been so engrossed in her work. I felt slightly guilty knowing that I had spent more time watching her work and thinking about the dirty things I wanted to do to her than doing any work of my own.
I followed her tight sweet ass down to the dining room, my eyes glued to the sway of her hips. They were hypnotizing to watch. I couldn’t wait to have her down on her hands and knees my collar wrapped around her neck as I walked her like a good little pet.
That’s what she was, she was my pet. My beautiful damaged pet. But soon, so soon, she would no longer be damaged. She would be whole, and mine. Always mine.
“When will we go into the office?” Her sweet voice broke me from my musings.
“Once you are better and can be trusted to be alone,” I replied, giving her the full weight of my stare.
I watched as she squirmed in her seat. I could tell that I affected her. I only hoped that it was in the way I meant to. I didn’t want her to be afraid of me, at least not in the sense of real fear. I did, however, want her to know that I meant what I said, that my words were not to be taken lightly.
“I won’t use again.” Her voice was low but I could hear the pain in every word.
“I should hope not after what happened.” I gave her a firm look, letting the weight of my gaze hang over her.
Her eyes cast down to the table. Thinking back to that night had caused me to lose my appetite. I could tell that I wasn’t the only one affected. I watched as she dropped her silverware and pulled back from the table, her hands wrapping around her waist.
I sat back in my chair, my hands folded in my lap I assessed her with my eyes, taking in every inch of her. She was still thin and frail but I knew that with time that would change, she would put on a healthy weight and would get some color to her cheeks. I couldn’t wait to see it happen. Before, I saw her beauty as natural. Once I knew the truth I was able to see past the façade. I could see the limpness in her hair, the dull sheen and gray in her complexion and the hollowness under her eyes.
“How long had you been using?” I asked the question that had been eating at me. I couldn’t fathom her doing it for long. I only prayed I was right.
“Three months.” Her admission was low, barely audible but I heard her and it was music to my ears.
I had hated that she had even started but I couldn’t express the joy at knowing she had not been a long time addict. The woman I read about in that file was not the woman before me. That woman was not lost, either.
“Why did you start?”
Her eyes lit wide with panic like a frightened doe. She squirmed
in her seat unwilling to answer the question. I held firm, my eyes on her, watching every move she made. I would get answers from her, no matter what it took.
“Pet, why did you start?” I asked again, my voice hard and firm.
“To remember.” She mumbled.
I watched as a lone tear streamed down her beautiful face. I felt my heart constrict at the sight. I did not want to be the one to bring her pain, but I knew it had to be done. While she had been out cold for the past three days I had been meeting with doctors, therapist, and counselor’s, all of them giving me advice as to how to handle the situation with Shelby. I had refused to turn her over to their care, instead, opting to care for her myself.
“To remember what?” I asked, pressing forward.
Sniffling she shifted in her seat, drawing her knees up to her chest.
“To remember the past. My life before.” She answered, avoiding my eyes. I knew she was hiding something. I knew there was more to it. More to the reason that she up and decided to start shooting heroin to remember the past when she had seemed to be doing fine up until three months ago.
I knew I was blundering this. They had told me to wait, give her time, and provide a safe space for her to talk. I didn’t have time. I couldn’t wait. How could I when the woman of my dreams could run head first back into the disaster of her life.
When she had first become ill, suffering from withdrawals from the drugs she cried out a name over and over. She would open her eyes and give a weak smile; looking up at me she would call me his name. Now I would get the answers. Now I would find out once and for all who Brittan was to her.
“Who’s Brittan?” I asked, pushing her to talk.
Her eyes grew as wide as saucers before she darted from the table. I knew she had nowhere to run. The gate to the property was closed and we were miles from town. She had no money and nowhere to go. Her phone and purse were locked away as a precaution. I allowed her to flee. I would find her soon enough.
I had given her fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes to run, hide, or try to escape. What I didn’t expect was to find her huddled in a ball in the center of the bed. Sobs wracked her body. Unable to control myself I slipped off my shoes and climbed into bed after her. My arms snaked around her waist pulling her into me. I expected her to fight, to pull away and try to escape; only she didn’t. She turned in my arms, burying her head in my shoulder and cried.
I held her close to me, stroking her hair and back as she released all of her pent up emotions. I would be there for her, no matter what, I would be there for her.
When her sobs had finally stopped she drifted off to sleep in my arms. We had work to do, mountains of it, but I couldn’t find it in me to pull away. I lay there holding this beautiful broken woman in my arms. I sent a silent prayer up to the gods to help me fix her. Help me make her whole. I wasn’t a praying man, but in this moment I would do anything to erase the pain from her life.
She lay in my arms sleeping for what seemed like forever, when in fact, it was maybe only an hour. In that time my mind had bounced around so many ideas and theories as to who this Brittan is and why she would be using. I knew I needed to give her time but what I really needed was answers. I needed to know.
When she began to shift against me, stirring awake I couldn’t help but pounce on her, seizing the opportunity to finally get answers.
I caressed her cheek with my hand, drawing her eyes to flutter open. I knew it was wrong. I knew what I was doing went against every bit of advice I had been given over the past few days and even against what my brain and heart were telling me was right but I couldn’t help myself. It was like I was on a mission that could not be aborted no matter what the consequences.
The small smile that splayed across her lips further dug my grave as my lips moved. “Please tell me, who is Brittan?”
Pain slashed across her eyes, a pain that will forever be seared in my mind as I watched the first crack appear in her eyes. The first crack of what would soon be many.
“My ex-boyfriend.” Her voice was low and broken, further cementing what I knew to be true. I was the fucking devil.
“Does he know what you’re doing?” I asked her, digging the hole deeper.
“No,” Her eyes flooded with tears that streamed down her face and onto my chest, the material of my shirt soaking them up.
“How would he feel if he knew?”
“He’s dead. He wouldn’t feel anything.” Her words were full of so much pain and heartache.
I immediately felt like the fucking asshole that I was. Internally I called myself every name in the book, for they were all so very true. I watched as more cracks appeared in her face.
“Is he who you try to remember?” I asked, my eyes trained on her face, forcing myself to watch as she fell apart in my arms. I did this. I broke this beautifully damaged creature.
It was my own sick twisted pain that drew me to ask, to draw the pain from her. Not because I wanted her to hurt but because I think deep down I knew that when she told me it would hurt me as well, and it did. It killed me to be causing her so much anguish yet I continued, digging the ax into both of our hearts and pouring salt in the wounds.
“Yes,” That one word gutted me. She was in love with someone else. Someone who could not love her back because he was dead. Someone that would never be able to hold her when she was sad, kiss away her tears, and share in her joy. I was a fucking twisted bastard.
Chapter Fifteen
Shelby
It hurt, talking about him nearly broke my heart. Through the pain, I realized that there was relief. There was relief in saying his name out loud. In admitting that he was dead and gone. When it had happened I had bottled everything up inside. I held it all in and dove head first into my studies. I used the pain to propel me forward.
When everything had been going wonderfully and I was at the peak of my life relishing in my success and happiness was when I realized I had no one to share it with. It was when I realized that had things went differently I would have been sharing my joy with Brittan. It was when I realized that I could no longer recall his face or his voice that I began to panic. The panic set me off in a tailspin to chase his memory.
Now looking back I realized that I should have sought help. I should have gone back to counseling and I should have found someone to talk to. Instead, I internalized and sought my own therapy in the form of a needle.
The pain on Klaus’ face nearly broke me. Here he was, a stranger, taking care of me. He picked me up when I was broken and brought me home to make me whole. When I was at my worst he was right there by my side, holding my hair back, caring for me, taking care of me. I owed him the truth. I owed him my life.
“We were high school sweethearts.” I began, laying my head against his chest, opening my heart up to him a baring my soul.
I told him everything. I told him about the proposal and how I felt guilty for pushing Britt to quit school through my actions. I told him about my change in friends, my stalker behavior and how I was forced to move in with my uncle Hank. I told him about Britt’s death and how I woke up one day realizing I had no one to share it with. He listened, never once casting judgment or making me feel guilty for my actions.
I felt the weight lift off my chest, a weight I hadn’t realized I had been holding. It felt good. I felt like I had finally found peace. The tears of pain and sadness changed to tears of happiness and relief. I felt like I had finally reached closure of the life I had in my head. The life that involved me and Brittan. He was gone. There was nothing I could do to change that. I loved him and I love him still but it was time for me to move on. Time for me to open myself up to the possibility of loving someone else.
I knew that the recent realization that I needed to open my heart to someone else had pointed to Klaus because he was the closest person to me right then. I also knew I didn’t mean I wasn’t in love with him. I knew I wasn’t but in that moment I felt love for him. Love that surpassed that of a lover. The love I fe
lt was that of a friend, a confidant, and a savior, for he had saved me from myself. He had saved me from ending my life chasing a dream that had died years ago. This was my chance to rebuild my life. Not in the image, I had in the past but in the image, I wanted now.
I wanted to help people. Help others that are struggling with grief. I had thought it before but opening up to Klaus had further ingrained it in my mind.
We lay there for hours, Klaus’ arms around me. We talked about everything and nothing. Both of us opening up to one another in ways we never had with anyone else. He told me about his father giving him the file on me, proclaiming me the woman he was to marry. I had to laugh. I thought it was cute and endearing that his father had picked me out of all of the eligible women in Miami. I would have loved to have been that woman, but first I needed to find myself. I was in no shape to commit to a man, even if it was Klaus.
I needed to relearn to stand on my own two feet and to figure out my life. I wasn’t going to leave the company and my job. I loved what I did and I could never imagine working anywhere else in the world. But I did need a change of scenery. I needed to get away from Miami for a while to regroup.
When Klaus had suggested Germany I nearly fainted laying there in his arms. I loved Germany. I loved the language, the food, and most of all the people. We had a home office there that I could work out of and even a company apartment that would be available to me.
Without a moment’s hesitation, I accepted his proposal. I was to go to Germany and work for the next six months. Once the six months had ended we would reevaluate the situation and decide from there if I was to stay on for another six months or come home.
“Are you sure this is what you want to do?” Klaus asked kissing the top of my head.
I loved how compassionate he was. He was kind and thoughtful. Everything I could ever imagine wanting in a man one day.
“Yes, I think it is the perfect place to start fresh. We can talk through email and web chat. I will be closer to some of our clients and will be able to take on an even bigger workload. Plus it will give me time to clear my head.”
Chasing Brittan Page 10