Sweet and Sinful

by Andra Lake

  Frowning, I opened my notebook and started filling out the Purpose and Procedure using the manual as a guide.

  Our lab instructor James was old and a stickler—we had to write everything out by hand and submit our notebooks by the end of class. The point was to work as a team and finish in the time allotted. But very quickly it became evident that the two girls planned to shut me out. Jacqueline actually used her manual as a sort of wall, propping it up in front of her notebook so I couldn’t see what she was writing. Charlotte turned sideways on her stool again and dutifully hid her notebook behind the wall.

  Confused by their actions, but knowing I was being punished for something, I focused on working through the lab on my own. It didn’t seem too difficult, I reasoned. First I had to calculate the planets’ longitude by using the Astronomical Almanac, and then plot these positions on graph paper using concentric circles as orbits. That would help me determine when I could expect to see the planets during the day, which I was supposed to report in a table. The next step was to calculate the ecliptic longitudes and determine which constellation each planet was in. Last step was to look at the planets’ positions along the ecliptic and determine their declination and right ascension. This is where I felt the first twinges of panic. I had no idea what the last bit even meant.

  Math had never been my strong suit. I had forgotten this, however, when I’d decided to register in a full year Astronomy course. The science intrigued me but the math freaked me out. Taking yoga breaths, I decided to focus on each step in turn.

  In order to plot where the planets were today, I had to calculate how many degrees each planet moves a day. Easy enough—just take the difference in degrees a planet moves a month and then divide it by the number of days. I started with Venus and calculated it to move 1.6 degrees per day. Then I moved on the next planet until I had a nice table and the first step was complete.

  Glancing at Charlotte and Jacqueline, I could see they were already plotting the planets on their graph paper. Most likely they’d split up the calculations. I hurried to catch up and graph my planets. Then I filled out a table relating the times of day the planets would not be below our horizon and it would be possible to see them in the sky.

  I had no trouble finding out which constellation each planet was in, but by the time I had to calculate the geocentric equatorial coordinates of the planets, my head was killing and I was beyond stressed. It was one thing to know I had a full evening to figure something out and quite another to work with a time limit...and all by myself, too.

  When my brain was so fried it hurt, I put my pen down angrily. “Is there a reason you’re ignoring me today?”

  Both girls froze. Charlotte was in the midst of filling out the last table and Jacqueline was leaning over her page. Definitely sharing calculations. Charlotte looked to Jacqueline as if for guidance but Jacqueline simply started writing again. Charlotte cleared her throat.

  “We’re not ignoring you. I’m responding to you right now.”

  “Yes, you are,” I said, my voice shaking slightly. I’d never been good at confrontation. “You know we’re supposed to work together.”

  Now Jacqueline slammed down her pen. “You missed yesterday’s class. Do you really expect us to catch you up after that? Charlotte saw you eating lunch with Ian Crawford.”

  Gritting my teeth, I returned back to my work, skipping the last step and moving straight to the conclusion. With only five minutes left in class, I needed as many marks as I could get.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  When I arrived at our 8 a.m. class the next morning, Ian was saving our usual seats. A blueberry muffin sat on my desk waiting for me.

  “I’m getting used to you spoiling me,” I told him as I slid into my seat. “You’d better keep it up. No pressure or anything.”

  Ian gave me a sly look as he bit into his own muffin. “You’ll need the energy for what I have in mind after class.”

  I sucked in a breath. “Oh so you’ve decided I’m ‘ready’?”

  “That remains to be seen. I’ve decided I’m ready to fuck you again.”

  “Shh,” I whispered, glancing around at the other students filing into their seats. Ian seriously had no filter or ability to be discrete. He was all at the mercy of his whims and desires. He also looked a bit giddy, like he had something up his sleeve. It was making me nervous.

  I leaned over and whispered in his ear. “I’ve decided you’ll have to catch me again.”

  “We can play it that way.” He shrugged casually. “But if I catch you—and I will catch you—I won’t be as lenient.”

  Delightful shivers ran down my spine. “I’m not afraid of you.”

  He smirked. “You should be.”

  Trying to control my breathing, I turned away from him and watched the remaining students file in. My pulse was racing and my hands were sweaty. I rubbed my thighs together in my seat. You should be. What exactly did he have in mind?

  Risking a glance at him, I saw he was focusing on the prof, a slight smile on his lips. Brute.

  I slid lower in my seat and bit my nails, realized what I was doing and stopped. My mind was so not on the lecture. The problem was I was dying to know what Ian had planned—my entire body was tingling with anticipation—but I didn’t want him to know that. I knew we were playing some kind of game and during it I was supposed to do what he said, but a part of me just couldn’t give in so easily. I was a fighter.

  As the class neared its end, I seriously debated running. I could get up and leave any time—maybe I had a doctor’s appointment or I really had to go to the bathroom. Ian wouldn’t be able to follow me. Or would he? Ian of all people wouldn’t care how it looked.

  The lecture ended and Ian leaned back in his seat, stretched his hands high over his head. “I see you decided not to take off. For a while there I thought you might.”

  “I realized I can’t avoid you,” I mumbled. “You’re still my RC, remember?”

  “Clever girl. At some point I would catch you at home with Melissa not around, and then what?”

  “Trouble.”

  He nodded solemnly. “Trouble.”

  I stood first and slung my bag over my shoulder without looking at him. My eyes would betray my excitement. All my nerve endings felt alive and on fire, and he hadn’t even touched me yet. I could feel the heat of his body behind mine as we filed out of our row. The second we could stand side by side, he grasped my hand and held it tightly. He maneuvered us through the crowd and into the hall, walking determinedly like he had the night we first slept together. I could feel his pulse beating through his hand and knew he was just as excited as me.

  “Do you have to walk so fast?” I asked him breathlessly.

  He smiled down at me. “This is my usual pace. Sorry I forgot you have little legs.”

  I glared up at him. “Or you’re just dragging me across campus.”

  “I’d throw you over my shoulder caveman style if I could.”

  “Ian Crawford worried about what other people think. Mark this day with a gold star.”

  “Bruce recommended I don’t make a display. I’m simply being respectful. Of Bruce.”

  “Not me.”

  He grinned at me wolfishly. “No, being respectful of you is definitely not my intention.”

  We took the steps two at a time to the basement and Ian unlocked the door, strode down the hall to his room. And now I was reminded of another night: the night of the spanking party, when Ian had pulled me past every room until he’d finally found a vacant one.

  Before Ian had always kept his suite unlocked, so I was surprised when he used his key again. He let me walk in first and then locked the door behind us. The click of the lock felt so final. I’d made my choice, and here I was.

  “Go into the bedroom,” he said in a low voice. “I left something for you on the bed.”

  Pulse racing, I turned the knob and entered the bedroom. At first I didn’t see anything. Maybe I’d been expecting a large, scary ob
ject of some kind. I blinked a few times as I took in the items lying on the comforter: plaid skirt, white blouse and black tie.

  “What’s this?” I asked, turning to face him.

  Ian closed his bedroom door and leaned against it, grinning wickedly. “I thought we could do a little role playing.”

  His stance against the closed bedroom door also reminded me of that night. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end—I had a strange sensation I’d been down this road before. He pushed off the door and approached me, that smile still tugging at his lips and his green eyes full of promise.

  “Role playing?”

  He stopped directly in front of me, trailed a finger along my jaw. “Yes, sexual role play. You’ll play yourself the night of the spanking party, and I’ll play me.” He smirked. “Only this time it’s going to go down a little differently.”

  I shivered. “Still angry about that one, huh?”

  “I’m not angry, but punishing you will be rewarding all the same.”

  God he was good at this. Playing the boss came so naturally to him. Excited shivers raced through my body as he gathered my hair into a ponytail. “Put this up.”

  I took off the elastic I always wore around my wrist and tied it around my hair.

  “I’m going to give you five minutes. Be ready when I return.”

  He left the room, closing the door behind him, and I quickly began to change. My hands were so shaky I could barely fasten the buckles on the sides of the skirt. Brushing my hands on the back of it confirmed my suspicions: it was much shorter than my last skirt. So short, in fact, that it showed a little butt cheek.

  I had to admit, it was pretty sexy.

  I put on the blouse and then the tie, excitement and anticipation building. How long had Ian planned this? Had he followed through on his promise to buy a paddle along with these items? Well if he was hoping to pay me back for the spanking party night, he had another thing coming. I wasn’t going to make it easy on him.

  Two could play this game.

  When he returned, I was sitting on the end of the bed, my bare legs swinging nonchalantly.

  “Stand up,” he ordered.

  I did and curtsied, too.

  His eyes raked over me in appreciation. “I like dressing you.”

  Then he motioned with his finger for me to turn, and I twirled for him. “Thanks for the outfit. I love it.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Do you now.”

  “Mm hmm.” I smiled sweetly.

  Ian went to his closet and pulled out the paddle. My core instantly heated and clenched. It was very similar in shape to the one we’d used at the party, only shinier. Brand new. He flipped it around in his hands as he approached me again, a smug smile playing on his lips.

  “If I remember correctly, last time we did this you enjoyed getting paddled very much. Didn’t you, sweetheart?”

  I knew what he was doing—that he was trying to embarrass me—but I still blushed.

  “Answer me.”

  “Yes,” I said softly.

  He stopped in front of me, wrapped his hand around my tie a few times until it was taut. “I then rewarded you by fucking you with the paddle, and you repaid me by being rude and taking off. That wasn’t very nice, was it?”

  I looked away, my jaw clenched stubbornly. He’s not angry my ass! I suddenly had the feeling we were playing out his revenge fantasy.

  “Answer me, little one.” His voice was low and threatening. “And look me in the eye.”

  I forced myself to look at him and saw his answering smile. “No,” I whispered.

  He gave the tie a slight tug and I sunk to my knees. He began pacing in front of me, still flipping the paddle. I shifted back and forth on my knees, feeling the familiar heat growing and hoping to slow it. Letting Ian see I was turned on again was not a part of the plan.

  “Do you remember when I said that if you were my girlfriend I’d be keeping count?”

  I nodded, biting my lip.

  “Well I have kept count. One for every day you avoided me. Five for not telling me you are a virgin, though I think I’m being lenient there. Another for not telling me about that poem you wrote. How many are we at, sweetheart?”

  “Ten.”

  “That isn’t a good enough number. Two more for taunting me about not being able to fuck you.”

  “Twelve?” I squeaked.

  He frowned and considered this. “You’re right—make that fifteen. Turns out I am still pissed.”

  I crossed my arms petulantly. “I feel tricked.”

  “I suppose you had it coming.” His eyes narrowed. “Bend over the bed.”

  “No.”

  “No?” The word hung between us. Deadly. Threatening.

  I raised my chin. “I don’t have to.”

  “And I don’t have to take it easy on you. You’re being a little brat. Bend over the bed, Alexis Watson, or I’ll put you there myself.”

  I stayed in position, unable to keep the bratty smile from spreading across my face. This was going to be fun.

  His eyes gleamed with challenge. “Very well then,” he said in a low voice. “We’ll do it the hard way.”

  In a second he was on me, one arm wrapping around my torso and picking me up as if I weighed nothing. He stalked to the bed and sat down on the edge, pulling me over his lap and holding me down by the back of my neck. When I buckled and tried to stand, his fingers dug in to the sides of my neck, and I immediately stilled.

  “You’re a jerkface,” I mumbled into the duvet. “Let me go.”

  “Jerkface?” he repeated, amused.

  “Yes. You know full well that you offered to get me off. All I did was act like a bitch before I left.”

  “That’s not all you did. You turned it around on me, and you know it. It was very bad behavior.”

  I bit my lip. I still wasn’t sure what we were doing and we hadn’t discussed the rules, but somehow I knew I’d broken them.

  His hand slipped under my skirt, rubbing my ass through my panties gently before pulling them down. He then pushed my skirt up so that it bunched on my backside above the cleft. I wiggled on his lap, feeling somehow more vulnerable than when I’d bent over the bed at the party. This position was more humiliating somehow.

  His hand circled my flesh softly as if getting it ready. “After each spank, you’re going to thank me.”

  “Thank you?” I repeated incredulously. “You’re crazy.”

  He slapped my ass and I yelped.

  “You will count and then thank me. Understood?”

  “Yes,” I whispered.

  “I can’t hear you, brat.”

  I lifted my head from the duvet. “Yes. I understand.”

  “If you’re good maybe I’ll take it easy on the last five.” His hand stopped its gentle massage and then the paddle came down. Slap! I yelped and squirmed, biting my tongue from telling him to fuck off. That was harder than the night of the party—or else I was too sober.

  “One! Thank you,” I bit out.

  I could practically hear his smile. So friggin’ smug. The paddle came down again.

  “Two! Thank you.”

  I gritted my teeth for the next one. At six my face was burning with indignation and my hands were grasping the duvet so hard I was sure my nails had indented my palms through the fabric. My ass was burning and the more it did, the more the heat between my legs grew until I couldn’t differentiate between them. My entire nether region was on fire and throbbing. I could feel his erection against my stomach.

  At ten he paused and tenderly caressed me. His fingers felt cold on my heated flesh. He gently ran his fingers through my hair, turned my head so I could see him. Our eyes connected and I licked my lips. There was no doubt he could tell I was aroused.

  “Like promised I’m going to go easier on you now,” he said gently. “Almost there, sweetheart.”

  I kept my eyes on his for the last five, and it was as if someone else had taken over my body. I no longer felt the
slaps and the counting and thanking him just came out as if on auto-pilot. At the end he didn’t lift me, and I didn’t move to get up. His fingers went between my legs, running along my lips before dipping inside me. I moaned softly, too spent to do anything except feel his fingers. I loved the feeling.

  He inserted two inside of me and began pumping them in and out. Our eyes were still locked and my lips parted as I breathed in and out, wiggling on his lap and knowing full well it was rubbing his cock. His hands went under me and he shifted me so that I was on the floor between his legs.

  “Remember when I said I’ve fantasized about you being on your knees for me?” he asked as he unzipped his jeans.

  I crossed my arms. “Pretty sure I already paid you back for that.”

  He smirked. “Well I want you to pay me back again, and I’m the boss.”

  His hand grasped my ponytail, held tight as he brought my head down between his legs. My pussy throbbed at the act of dominance as my cheeks puffed to take him in. Using my ponytail to direct me, he moved me up and down his length. The second he relaxed his grip, however, I scrambled free and crawled away, stopping on all fours a few feet from the door.

  “Please fuck me, Ian,” I said, looking at my hands on the carpet. I waited for his reaction, staring at the threads between my fingers, my breathing heavy.

  He didn’t respond for what felt like a lifetime. “Look at me.”

  I kept perfectly still.

  “Look at me,” he repeated, his tone hardening.

  I peeked over my shoulder at him. His face was hard but his eyes were smiling, amused.

  “I’m turning you into a sex crazed little girl, aren’t I?”

  I smiled a little and nodded. I didn’t want to suck him off—I wanted to get off too. I wasn’t sore anymore. I wiggled my ass at him invitingly, knowing he could see how aroused I was. He didn’t stand a chance.

  He stood and came to me, his jeans hanging open. As he kneeled behind me, he reached around me to grasp the tie, twisted it around on my neck so he was holding it like a leash.

  “Don’t forget who’s in charge here, sweetheart.”