Authors: Sierra Cartwright
Her fingers shook, but she did as he asked.
“You wore a bra,” he observed.
“A sheer one,” she said. Again, her voice dropped off at the end, as if she were unsure how to answer.
He helped her out. “A sheer one, Sir.”
The tension in her shoulders seemed to ease a bit. “A sheer one…” She paused. “Sir.”
As she sipped her wine, he said, “You’ve thought about this evening.” It was a statement, not a question. After all, he’d been thinking about it. “Tell me what you hope happens.”
She moved the wine glass to one side so there was nothing between them. “BDSM appeals to me on many levels,” she said, her voice quiet, but strong. “I want to submit. I’ll be honest, that you arranged for my ride—in a limousine?—and told me what to wear was sexy. I’m accustomed to making all the decisions for my life, and I have since I was fifteen. But you gave me choices, as well. I selected the outfit and decided where to meet. You’re not trying to take away my free will, but you’re stating your preferences. It turns me on.”
With a steady gaze, she met his eyes.
“Men don’t intimidate me. But you do,” she confessed.
“Good.”
“Good?” she asked, her brows drawing together in a tiny frown.
“I want to intimidate you, just enough.” He leant forward a bit and moved his beer glass to the side. He noticed her breathing had increased. She swept hair away from her forehead. “I want you off balance, not knowing what to expect. But you’re right, I don’t want to take away your free will. I want your full participation. Give me your safe word.”
“Snowboard.”
He arched his brow.
“I snowboard every chance I get. It’s my escape.”
“I see. And when will you use your safe word?”
“If I’m scared. If I feel as though things are out of control. If something you do hurts too much.”
“I’ll be keeping an eye on you,” he said. “I will figure out where your limits are, what they are, and I’ll try not to push you beyond them. What are your hard limits?” He had sent her a list of common limits and told her they’d discuss them in person.
“No breaking the skin.”
“Fair enough. Anything else?” When she shook her head, he asked, “And soft limits?”
“I’ve never tried anal.”
“But it’s not off the table?”
She reached for her wine and took a small sip. “No… I mean, no, Sir.”
She’d added the honorific a little breathlessly. He couldn’t wait to hear her scream his name as she came. “I asked what you hope will happen this evening. I’m still waiting for your answer.”
“You don’t let people off the hook easily, do you?”
“No. And never with a submissive. Hiding things from me is to your disadvantage.” With a brow raised, he added, “Stalling any longer will earn you a punishment.”
This time, she took a large drink of her wine.
When she put down the glass, he moved it aside. “You’ve had enough,” he said.
She twisted her hands together on the tabletop. She took her time formulating her words, but he waited without interrupting or giving her a way out. He’d asked a question, he expected an answer.
“I hope I’m allowed to come.” She unclasped her hands, obviously having realised how much her actions were telegraphing her angst. “On the phone, you talked about flogging, and how it can be a sensual experience. I want to try that. I’d like to experience some nipple stimulation.”
Her face flushed red. This was uncomfortable for her, and yet she was doing it, for him. Was there anything more alluring than a woman who was willing to risk her emotional comfort for her man?
“And…”
He waited a full thirty seconds before she spoke again.
“Maybe a bit of humiliation…” She swallowed. Then with a whisper, she added, “Sir.”
“We’ll go carefully there, until I know you better,” he said.
“I would like to experience a spanking on my pussy.”
“And sex?”
“Intercourse is fine, as long as we use a condom.”
“I have a private room reserved. Unless you’d rather play in public? If you like humiliation, that may be preferable.”
“I’d prefer private for now. If that suits you, Sir?”
“Please remain seated,” he said as he stood. He picked up his bag and put it on the top of the table. As he withdrew two full-grain leather items, she leant forward a bit. “Lift your hair.”
She hesitated for only a fraction of a second before doing as he said. He placed a collar around her throat. She swallowed deeply and reached up to feel it after he had tightened and adjusted it. Their gazes met, and her lips parted slightly. Clearly he’d shocked her, but in a good way. “How does that feel, sub?”
It was the first time he’d addressed her that way. She blinked. He wondered about her internal reaction. Fear? Anticipation?
She reached up and traced a fingertip across the top of the collar. “It’s surprisingly comfortable. It’s softer than I thought it would be.”
All of his implements were handcrafted from the finest materials. He only inflicted pain deliberately and with great care.
Once she’d dropped her hand, silently and unconsciously signalling him that she’d accepted the collar, he held up the other piece for her to see. “A leash,” he said. It too was supple, but amazingly sturdy. “Kneel while I attach it to the collar.”
Chapter Three
Myka licked her lower lip. He wanted her to kneel in the bar, in front of everyone, while he
leashed
her?
“Concentrate on me,” he said. “No one here matters except for you and I. Only two things are important—pleasing me, and getting your needs met. You wanted to try humiliation, and you didn’t use your safe word. That means you’re more concerned with what others may think than you are frightened. Am I correct?”
She nodded.
“In that case, Myka, on your knees. Now.”
When he used that tone of voice—implacable and stern—she would do nearly anything. Keeping her gaze on him, she eased herself onto her knees.
“Generally I prefer that my subs keep their gaze downcast, but I don’t know you well enough yet. If you and I are interacting, I want you to focus on me unless I give you permission to close your eyes. Understood?”
“Yes, Sir.” She was shocked how easily the word slipped out. Ever since she’d stepped on the elevator with him, he’d had her on edge.
Having him send a car for her had been an exquisite pleasure. Tony had treated her with complete courtesy, even when she’d asked if she could sit up front with him. With her new outfit and all the lavish attention, she’d felt as if she were a princess going to a ball.
When she’d arrived at the club, she’d had no idea what to expect. Tony had said he had instructions to wait for her. He’d be fired if he didn’t care for her properly.
Jason, who’d greeted her at the door, had stunned her with his attire and especially with his pierced nipples. This wasn’t her usual kind of club.
Phillip, though, was a man among men. He was dressed as if he’d come straight from work. A tailored jacket hugged his broad shoulders, his trousers were immaculately pressed, and his shoes reflected the overhead light. Everything about him radiated confidence and class.
And he smelt… Masculine, pure and primal. The scent of woodsy soap combined with the heady sensuality of power intoxicated her. Her thoughts were jumbled, and she had to think about every word he said.
Phillip wrapped a thick strand of leather around his hand. “Ask me to leash you.”
She felt her cheeks stain. She had to clear her throat before she could speak clearly. “Sir, will you please leash me?” He smiled, and pleasure replaced the momentary pang of embarrassment.
He efficiently attached the length to the hook on her collar. He gave an experimental tug, and she responded, leaning towards him.
“Good,” he said. “This time I’ll allow you to walk behind me. Unless you’d prefer to crawl?”
“Uhm, I want to walk. For sure.”
He waited, his posture stiff, brow furrowed, as if expecting her to say something more.
It took her a few seconds to remember her manners. “I’d prefer to walk, Sir, if it’s okay with you.”
“Better,” he said. “But you’ve already been reminded how to address me. This time, I can’t allow it to go uncorrected.”
“Sir?”
“I intend to reinforce my message.”
She frowned.
“I am going to spank you, Myka. Here and now in full display of everyone in the bar. It’s your choice. You can accept the punishment or have Tony bring the car around.” There was no hostility in his tone, just a statement of fact.
With his foot, he pulled his chair out from the table. He shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over the back of the chair. Then, with economical motions, he removed his cufflinks and dropped them on the table. The pieces of etched silver glittered in the overhead light. She stared at them, anything to escape the surreal moment.
When he rolled up his sleeves, she looked back at him. He sat. “Across my lap, sub, if you please.”
The sight of his tanned and strong forearms sent a shiver of trepidation down her spine. What the hell had she got herself into? It was one thing to read about this, another to be here, in public, disgraced.
“And you’ll lift your skirt so your buttocks are completely exposed.”
She wanted the floor to swallow her whole. Her heart slammed viciously against her ribs. She’d already learnt that he didn’t joke. But how could he expect her to expose her bottom in the bar? Over the half hour they’d been together, almost every table had been filled. Some couples were dressed in business wear, others in club attire, but none of the subs had been chastised. Besides, she was new to this. Shouldn’t that count for something? “I’m trying my best to understand how this all works. I promise to be good, Sir.” She offered a tentative smile, hoping to mitigate the determination he radiated.
Implacably, he said, “Safe word out or get your ass across my lap.”
She was still kneeling, and so she saw the firm set of his jaw. She thought for a few seconds. She could get out of this, but then she’d never know what she was missing. More than anything, she wanted this experience, even if she had to endure the ridiculousness of a spanking.
He pulled on her leash. Mortified, she gritted her teeth. But she submitted to his will. Within seconds, she was across his lap like the errant novice she was.
She would have preferred a different position, but he had placed her deliberately, her butt facing the aisle, so that anyone who wanted to see her could. Thankfully that meant the table more or less shielded her face.
“The skirt,” he reminded her.
“Yes, Sir.” It would have been easier for her if he just rolled it up. But this man didn’t allow her to hide.
He didn’t help her as she reached back. She squirmed and wriggled. The tight skirt had been selected to turn him on, but it wasn’t easy to pull it up, especially in this position.
“Nice,” he said, when the material was around her waist.
She’d chosen a garter belt and sheer stockings, and a thin, lacy black thong. The thong, skimpy as it was, would help preserve some modesty.
For a full thirty seconds, he didn’t move and didn’t speak. She just stayed there, exposed, eyes closed, wishing the punishment was complete.
“How many spanks do you deserve?”
Over the past few days, she’d done a fair amount of reading, fiction and nonfiction, and she’d devoured everything he’d sent her. She figured the correct answer was either six or eight, but she’d never been spanked before, and she was afraid to receive even two. “Six, Sir.” Since she couldn’t see him, she couldn’t tell whether her answer pleased him or not.
“Ask for your punishment, Myka.”
Did his sadism know no bounds? “Please spank me, Sir.”
“Count after each strike. And I suggest you remember your manners.”
He rubbed her buttocks gently. She began to relax under his tender touch, and her breathing evened. She felt the first stirrings of pleasure, but it remained just out of reach. If this continued, it wouldn’t be all bad. It seemed his ministrations were linked to her clit. She sighed, almost forgetting she was bare in front of the club’s patrons.