by Skylar West
I was shocked. "Dead? Oh, my God, Kingsley, I am so sorry. This is all my fault."
He took my hand. "No, Katarina, this is definitely not your fault. When we head back tomorrow, Devon is going to do a full profile, and he will need you to help fill in blanks. If you come and stay, you can use the library as a base of operations. We need to know why the Russians want you dead, Katarina. You mentioned today, your trust fund is coming to maturity soon. I think this must be motivated by money. But solving the case is not my only motivation. I can't keep my hands to myself when I'm with you. I want to spend every moment I can with you, and I have never felt that way before, about anyone. Keeping you safe is something I can do, so please let me."
Devon was nodding his head in agreement. I reminded myself that, despite my triggers, Kingsley was the same man, the one who made my body sing, who seemed to know me better than I knew myself. He wanted to support me in my life, in my endeavors, with no strings attached?
"What about after, Kingsley, after this is all said and done, if I'm still alive, then what?"
"Then, Katarina, it can be whatever you wish it to be. If you want to leave or stay, completely your choice, it doesn't change how I feel about you."
"Okay," I sighed, "let's do this, then. I'd like to live to see my twenty-fourth birthday."
"Wonderful," Devon said, standing. Lunch over, Kingsley and I stood, too. They had a masculine clapping of each other's shoulders. And instead of a peck on the hand, I received a full hug with a kiss on each cheek.
"Welcome to the family, Ms. Kate."
I laughed. "You are incorrigible, Devon, and thank you, I think."
He laughed, and then we parted ways. Devon, to secure new men of his choosing, and us, back to the room for some pre-dinner exercise. We had five hours until we were to meet Ethan and Pam.
Now that it was close, I felt butterflies in my stomach. What would Ethan think of Kingsley? Did all the changes I was feeling inside show on the outside? What would Kingsley think of my best friend?
We were getting ready for dinner, and despite the full wardrobe of clothing that Kingsley had provided me with, I couldn't find the right outfit. I was freshly showered and freshly fucked, yet I felt out of sorts. I felt Kingsley's eyes on me but did not inquire as to why.
I zipped hangers across the closet this way and that, muttering to myself the entire time. I felt tears threatening in my frustration to find an outfit reflecting how I felt, but nothing was doing the job.
"Katarina." I didn't acknowledge Kingsley as he tried to get my attention.
"Katarina, look at me, please."
I slowly turned, a crumpled shirt still on the hanger in my hands.
"I can help you, but I would like you to ask. You need to start verbalizing your needs instead of keeping them bottled up and then losing your shit when you don't get them met."
I was irritated with myself for being a bitch, and I knew that whatever was going to come out of my mouth would sound bitchy, but I didn't care.
"Really, King, that's your advice? Okay, fine," I said, cocking out one hip and glaring at him.
"I don't know what to wear, nothing feels right, and it's pissing me off. There, is that verbal enough for you?"
He chuckled. Then he took my hands in his and lifted first the right to his lips, then the left. His eyes were filled with love and compassion. I immediately felt my anger deflate in the wake of his gentleness.
"Good job, my love, now you have two choices. I can spank you until what is eating you lets go, and you're free to choose your outfit. But you may find, to get to that point, dinner will be uncomfortable in whatever you choose to wear."
I smiled. "That's a good point, unless I wear a butt pad." We both laughed at my comment, and it felt good to have this tiny victory of laughter in a moment that would normally leave me cross for an untold amount of time.
"Or, we can look together, and I can choose for you. What do you prefer?"
Hmm, I actually had to weigh out my options. If Kingsley chose, and I didn't like it, whatever was nagging me would only get worse, and I may lash out again. I didn't want to do that. I wanted to feel released so I could choose freely.
I smirked, "I've never had to spend this much time with such a simple choice; the very process of it is interesting. I think I know what I should choose, but what do you think? You know me, and you know the submission game better than anyone. What do you think is better for me?"
I was curious to see what he would say. He loved my ass and would use any excuse he could to spank it, expose it, squeeze it, or slide one or more digits into it. I expected him to say spanking. But you never knew with King.
"Well, before I answer that, Katarina, let me ask you one question, myself. Would you like to be responsible for your choice and make it without any interference from me? Because, if so, then go with the spanking."
I was confused. "How do you see that as me being in control if you're controlling me?"
He sighed and gave me another look of pure love.
"Katarina, when you ask for a spanking, you are accessing a tool to help you modulate your emotions, just like someone who takes a pill for depression or goes running to release pent up adrenalin. Spanking can be a tool to help you release, just like working out. Then you are free to decide what to wear, without whatever was bothering you holding you back. It is truly you, taking control of your evening and saying, 'give me what I need.'"
I'd never considered that spanking could be an act of empowerment. "Spanking, it is, then, because I want to go to dinner and have a great time with you and my bestie and, yes, even the hated Pam."
Kingsley said nothing, just pulled out the vanity chair, and sat down. I dropped my towel and lowered myself over his lap. He ran his large, warm hands over my ass. I almost purred with how good it felt, until one of his hands moved so quickly, my brain didn't register that one of his hands had left my ass. Until I heard the resounding thwack and then the bloom of heat on my ass cheeks.
"Ouch," I said but stayed in place.
He wrapped one of his legs over mine and brought down his hand in punishing strokes without giving me time to catch my breath in between. I was squeezing and squirming within seconds, and the tears were already filling my eyes.
He was going fast and furious to get me to let go as soon as possible, and it worked. Within a few minutes, I was hanging motionless over his lap, taking the last ten strokes with his whip-like hand in a state of total surrender. He sat me up, turning me toward him and letting me wrap my legs around him.
"Good girl," he soothed. "It's going to be okay, Katarina. I'm here for you. It's okay to let go and cry."
And I did for a few more minutes, and then his soothing words slowly warmed my heart to the point where I felt absolute peace. His words came back to me, and he had been right; I was set free.
I lifted my head from his shoulder, a watery grin on my face. "Thank you; I feel much better."
He smiled in return and leaned in toward me. He cupped my chin with one hand, while the other squeezed one of my reddened cheeks. It hurt so good. His tongue delved into my mouth, tasting me, loving me, and I melted. When he let go of me, I didn't know if I'd be able to walk without bumping into things, I felt so relaxed. I giggled as I arrived at the closet five feet later without tripping over my own feet. I gazed back at King, who now wore a look of amusement.
"How much time would you like?"
"Half an hour, please."
He nodded and then left me to it. I reached for an outfit I had looked at, at least ten times earlier, but wouldn't let myself choose. Hmm, that was interesting; maybe my irritation was based on judging my choices. Ha, that was kind of funny and worthy of further inspection later, when I had time to think.
I put on a black sequined cocktail dress with stockings and garter but no undies or bra. King still liked to know I was naked beneath my outer layer. I drew my hair up into a relaxed bun and added silver chopsticks to it for color, dangling silver ho
ops and iridescent lip color to add to the overall look. I completed my outfit with a dove grey clutch and matching wrap. When I came out of the bedroom, it was to an appreciative whistle from King.
"You have never looked lovelier; the perfect choice, Katarina."
I blushed and then added a sashay to my walk and winked at him, doing a tiny pirouette at the door.
He laughed and shook his head. "You are in fine form; how sore is your ass?"
"Surprisingly, I just feel a light sting; dinner should be no problem."
He reached down and took my hand in his, commenting, "I will have to fix that later."
Before I could give a scathing response, his tongue was down my throat, and his hand slid up the inside of my dress and petted my freshly shaven nether region. I moaned in his mouth, and I felt him smile before he pulled away and smoothed the hem back down.
"Really, Kate, try to behave, would you?"
I laughed at his light, relaxed attitude, reminding me of the night he'd met my parents. I felt the evening was bound to be a success. Our escort was ready outside our door, Devon and another man.
"I didn't expect to see you, cousin." Devon ignored him, having eyes only for me.
"Katarina, you look exquisite," he said, taking my hand and kissing it.
"Why, thank you, Devon," I responded coyly, knowing it would drive King crazy.
King grumbled about meddling family as we stepped into the elevator. Devon and I shared an amused glance but said nothing.
"I'm here for the escort down. I have people posted everywhere as requested, but I can guarantee, you won't see any of them. And if you can't spot them, then neither can our enemies."
King grunted in approval, but his look remained dour on the ride down from the penthouse.
When the elevator opened, Devon and his companion disappeared. Kingsley's attitude improved immediately.
"Mr. Deveraux," I crooned. "You're not jealous of your own cousin, are you?"
He stopped walking and looked me dead in the eyes. I was expecting a scathing comment, but instead, he smiled and said, "Katarina, I'm jealous of your shoes as they carry your beautiful feet. I'm jealous of your dress as it gets to feel your perfect ass against it. I'm jealous of any man who gets to look at you. What aren't I jealous of, when it comes to you? You'll be the ruin of me one day."
I reached up, wrapped my hands around his neck, and pulled him down for a kiss. "That was the most romantic thing I have ever heard, Mr. Deveraux; thank you."
He took my hand in his, and we continued into the restaurant. The host greeted King by name and escorted us to our table. We had a private back corner table, away from the general din of the other diners. Ethan and Pam were just taking their seats. Perfect timing. Ethan did a double take when he saw me.
I usually dressed down, not up, unless I was seeing my overbearing family. I wore what I liked, but since Kingsley had been ordering my wardrobe, there were many extras that I wouldn't usually wear but were, without a doubt, my style.
He chose outfits that showed off a sexy, playful side of me that I never knew I had. And if Ethan's raised eyebrows were a sign that others were noticing, then I'd say that Kingsley knew precisely how to dress a woman. The thought of being clothed by my lover brought a smile to my lips.
Ethan rose and embraced me before shaking hands with Kingsley.
"Ethan, Pam, this is Kingsley Devereaux, and King, this is my bestie and his girlfriend."
Chapter 16
Kingsley
I reached out and shook Ethan's hand and kissed the back of Pam's. Her blue Icelandic eyes fluttered in response. She was tall and slim but muscular, a gym bunny. The color of her eyes was such a sharp blue, they reminded me of icebergs in the Atlantic. She was anything but cold, as her dilating pupils told another story.
I released her hand and pulled out a chair for Katarina, and then Pam, as Ethan had already sat down. I watched Pam's chest as I took my own seat. Her breathing had become quick and shallow.
I made her nervous and turned on. I felt bad for Ethan; he was with a woman who wanted a strong man but didn't know it, and because of it, she probably emasculated him. In response, he would ignore her. A vicious cycle that, no doubt, went around and around. I felt the evening should prove an exciting one.
Ethan was already chattering on about Katarina's outfit. "Wow, you look amazing, Kat."
"Thanks, Ethan, so do you, and Pam, you look fantastic." Pam, who'd been staring at me, snapped her head toward Ethan and Kate. "Huh, sorry, Kate, what did you say?"
It was hard not to laugh at Pam's expense. She was a typical submissive, the kind who used to knock on my door, desiring my tutelage. Ethan was swimming at a depth he couldn't navigate. I decided to enjoy myself and bait the shark.
"I said," Katarina, repeated, "that you look fantastic. Still going to the gym every day?"
Now Ethan spoke up. "She practically lives there when she's not at work."
Pam glared at him and said, "Yes, I am, thank you."
"Why?" I spoke the single word question quietly but with power, and all eyes turned toward me. I purposely turned them dark and allowed the alpha male a place at the table. Katarina recognized it right away and seemed almost relieved.
Ethan spoke up. "Why, what? What are you asking Pam?" I ignored Ethan; the boy needed help, and if he paid attention, he would learn something about women tonight. "Pam, why do you spend all your time at the gym when you're not working?"
Pam blushed furiously and was suddenly looking anywhere but at me. I caught Katarina's eye and winked. She gave a smile but otherwise schooled her face. I could tell she was game for wherever this was going.
I could feel Ethan staring at me, unsure if he should intercede on Pam's behalf, and like Katarina, almost game to see where this went.
"Pam," I growled. "Look at me when I speak to you." Her eyes snapped back to mine. She looked as if she would tell me where to go, but I cut her off. "Why would such a beautiful young woman feel the need to spend all her time at the gym, hmm?"
Pam looked as if she wanted to speak, then her eyes quickly flashed to Ethan, and she turned back to me, defeat in her eyes. "It's a healthy outlet; there's nothing wrong with being in shape, is there?"
She looked around as she asked the question, as if the other two would answer. But both seemed intrigued by our exchange and offered no opinion, so I pushed ahead, "But that's not why you go, Pamela. Why spend all your time there? What are you hiding from?"
Her eyes went wide, but she didn't answer. I snapped my fingers loudly and said, "Speak!"
"I'm trying to make myself attractive."
I was going in for the kill now. I reached across the table and took Pam's hand in mine. "You already are attractive, Pamela. Now, tell me why you spend your time at the gym. You will tell me the truth, do you understand?"
Ethan was about to interject, but Katarina stopped him and whispered something in his ear.
Pam licked her lips, her eyes dilating; she seemed almost hypnotized now into a state of submission. I gently rubbed the back of her hand, keeping eye contact.
"Be a good girl, Pam, and fess up to what is bothering you."
She gulped, and speaking directly to me, she said, "Ethan isn't attracted to me; he ignores me, and we rarely have sex. I feel like it must be the way I look, so I keep trying to make myself look better, but things only get worse. I don't know what else to do."
In my periphery, I saw Ethan's jaw drop. He had no idea she felt this way; that was obvious.
"Good girl," I crooned as I gently let go of her hand. "You are an attractive, young, and beautiful woman, Pamela. You know that. But you feel that Ethan is not noticing because he doesn't take you in hand. He doesn't seem to care enough to know when to throw you down on the bed and overpower you, when to say yes and make all your fantasies come true and when to say no and put you to bed. You want Ethan to fuck you every time you wear a short skirt and whistle at your gorgeous legs every time you walk into a room.
You want Ethan to make you feel like you are the only woman in the world worth looking at or talking to. Secretly, you wish he would hate Katarina, because you're jealous."
Without waiting for a response, I kept going. "You hold their friendship against him, and by doing so, you also punish him for not doing what you want him to do. You have set Ethan up for failure, Pamela. Communication is the first key to a healthy relationship. You control the relationship because you manipulate him, but you secretly wish he could see it and take you in hand, make you pay for your overt manipulations. And tonight, he just might."
I pulled back from her, my black eyes returning to a lighter shade. "You are a beautiful brat, and if Ethan were smart, which I believe he is, he would take a strap to your ass until you couldn't sit for a week." I abruptly ended my dialogue, and you could hear a pin drop at our table. Ethan's jaw was still hanging down. Katarina was trying hard not to smile, and Pamela's mouth was moving like a guppy, trying to speak but nothing coming out.
I moved the attention now. "Katarina, why don't you share how much you've come to appreciate your spankings?"
Katarina blushed, as I knew she would, and Ethan was ready to come to her rescue. "Come on, man, don't embarrass her like that, not cool."
I narrowed my eyes at Ethan. "If only you could do the same for the woman who shares your bed," I said, looking at Pam. "Katarina is not your concern; she is mine. Are you embarrassed?" I asked, turning my full attention to her as I took her hand in mine. I gently tugged her onto my lap, and cupping her chin, I drew her lovely face toward me. I kissed her eyelids, her cheeks, and then her lips, taking my time. When I pulled away, I repeated my question.
"No, Kingsley, I am not embarrassed. What would you like me to share, exactly?"