Carnal Indulgence (Desiring the Forbidden Book 3) (2 page)

Maddox wanted a woman with wider hips, breasts with a little sag to them from years of breastfeeding and—he hoped—walking around braless. He wanted a woman with a few stretch marks, proof of living and giving life to others. Maddox wanted a woman with a few worry lines on her face, someone who knew how to roll with the punches life could sometimes deal out, someone who’d coped with the loss, defeat, even despair. He needed a woman who knew what she wanted and didn’t care what others thought of her.

An older woman wanted sex, and she wanted it hard—pounding, grunting, sweaty sex. She didn’t look for the things younger girls did. An older woman still liked looking at an attractive man, but knew that the mark of a man was more than the size of his cock, or a defined six pack. A real man cared about his woman, watching her, making her happy before his needs. Maddox knew that money wasn’t everything, but it sure as hell made life easier. He was aware that life was confusing and got in the way of pleasures some days. However, when given a chance, a real man had a zest for life—whether it was rough sex, a walk in the park, or a candle-lit dinner at home with the woman he loved. A real man was what she craved.

They understood the nuances between a young man and real man—and it didn’t have anything to do with age or good looks. An older woman tended to be more patient, more tolerant. She loved intensely and had a determination that younger women hadn’t learned yet.

Yep, when given a choice, Maddox had usually chosen an older woman. Sex with an older woman was beyond compare. Their sex drive was higher; they were willing to experiment and try new things. And, again, they were more tolerant of mistakes or blunders in the bedroom, quick to see the humor when things didn’t go as planned—and yet always staying open to trying again.

He and Libby had been together for four years and had become engaged recently, hoping for a fall wedding. That day was only two months away now. The stress of the wedding planning—even though he’d told her that a simple barn wedding was fine by him—had thrown her over the edge, and it appeared that it was time to roast his future wife’s bottom to bring her back down to earth.

He locked the doors downstairs before climbing the stairs to his naughty girl. There was a thrill of being Libby’s Daddy. Having her answer to him, hearing her crying out “Daddy” during a spanking, and then holding the mature woman in his arms afterward, he reveled in the sweet, adorable girl she became with the right nurturing. She submitted beautifully and took to their dynamic readily from the first day it was presented to her.

She stood in the corner, her black garters and stockings framing her white globes.

Jesus!

Her back stiffened when he closed the door behind him. He loved the sheer top, which ended just at the dimples above her buttocks.

“You’ve been a little snippy and sarcastic haven’t you, Elizabeth?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Are you ever allowed to be disrespectful to me? And do I tolerate your sarcasm?” He quietly walked up to her, running his forefinger down her spinal column, watching the goose flesh rise under the almost nonexistent material of her top.

She shivered before answering. “No, I’m never allowed to act like that. I’m sorry.”

Maddox opened their armoire, which housed their implements, pulling out a cane.

Libby groaned her hatred of the cane well known. He wasn’t sure if it was because he wielded it so expertly—he could line up the tracks like lines on a piece of college-bound paper—or if it was because he used it so often. It was, after all, the favorite weapon of choice for a professor, wasn’t it?

“Bend slightly forward, bad girl.” He positioned the cane vertically and slipped it between her plump cheeks. “Adjust your height so you may clench the rod, keeping it stationary.” Her breasts swayed within the loose fabric of her blouse; her nipples already erect with her arousal. He pinched one of the hard-as-steel tips between his thumb and forefinger.

She moaned in pleasure, but found the position she needed to stay in, the cane standing straight up—her flesh squeezed around it—and he loved every bit of it. He ran his finger lightly over the flesh, marveling at the dips and craters that he knew she hated. Maddox loved all of it though. If she hadn't been mortified, he would love nothing more than to kneel behind her, letting his tongue glide over every bump. But he knew she would probably end up in tears, not eating for a week. That wasn’t his goal.

As her Daddy and Dom, he wanted her to feel uplifted and encouraged. So instead, he’d just trace his finger over her ass. “Baby, I swear this has to be the best ass ever. Don’t you dare let that cane fall. Do I need to remind you of the penalty if it should fall?”

“N-no, Sir.”

“Good. I’ll be sitting over here worshipping your buttocks. You think about how you’re going to avoid being Bridezilla.”

He sat in the chair they had set up next to the fireplace in the master suite. He opened the mini fridge, pulling out a water, sitting with his e-book reader, pretending to read. From the angle of his chair, he could see her breasts dangling in her position. He loved requiring her to wear the sheer black top, her ripe breasts easily seen through it, the nipples begged for squeezing and pinching

His cock lengthened, and he decided that he’d rather be naked, standing to disrobe. They would order delivery tonight, eating in bed if necessary. Her kids were old enough that she didn’t have to handle their dinner needs anymore. At eighteen, Brandon was a senior, and Alexis, at twenty, was away at college.

Maddox stood in only his boxers, slipping them off, freeing his hardening cock. He grasped the silky steel rod in his hand, stroking it lightly as he approached his soon-to-be-wife. He liked to refer to her that way.
His wife.
There was a power and ownership to that phrase, yet he was smart enough to know that he never truly owned her any more than she did him. However, having her kneel and call him Daddy or Sir had him swelling with more than just pride.

He pushed his penis up against the crack of her ass, pressing the cane deeper into her. Maddox gripped her hips with both hands, rocking on the soft flesh jammed against his groin. “Time for a few tracks on this white bottom. Maybe sitting with a constant sting tomorrow will remind you how you speak to Daddy.”

He grasped the rod in his hand, lining it up for the first crack. He snapped it against her flesh several times in succession, each stripe just overlapping the one before.

Libby rose up onto her toes, dancing on the balls of her feet. “Jesus!”

“It hurts, doesn’t it? Tomorrow, it will hurt more, bad girl.” He lightly tapped her bottom for the next strokes. “Six more, girl.”

“Oh, God!”

He snapped his wrist three more times, laying the strokes along the lower edge of her bottom, just above her sit spots.

Her voice broke at the last stripe, and he could tell she was near the brink of tears.

“Are you supposed to call Daddy an idiot when he doesn’t know the difference between silver and slate for an invitation?”

“N-no, Daddy. I’m sorry.”

“The next three will make sure you are sorry while sitting at your desk chair in Human Resources.”

Maddox made sure to swing harder on the next three, wanting them to hurt the most. She was
never
allowed to call him an idiot—and he’d wanted to make sure she didn’t forget it. Two months was a long time to live with a shrew, and Maddox would be damned if he’d tolerate it for even one day, let alone sixty. He paused between each snap of the cane, letting the sting settle before striking again.

By the time he’d finished, her bottom was angry with red stripes—each outlined in a light purple. He placed the cane upright in the corner, lightly rubbing her bottom. “You have one more thing before you’re a good girl again, Libby. I want you on your knees, sucking my cock.”

She stood—her cheeks and nose bright red, her hand swiping at her tears. Libby didn’t balk or hesitate, dropping to her knees. She gasped, her eyes widening when her ass met her feet as she knelt.

“I know, it hurts, baby. I’m sorry I had to do that. You’ll be a good girl because of this, right?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

He hated seeing her in pain, hated seeing the tears and pout on her lips. Maddox also knew that his Libby was about as stubborn as they came, and unless she sat on a sore rump for a day or two, she’d do it again and again—until the next time he paddled her bottom. He’d tried being gentle and forgiving with his girl; her nature was so sweet and kind. However, Libby seemed to learn best with harsh discipline, and since Maddox had a penchant for strict discipline, he never hesitated to administer just what she needed.

“Hands behind your back. Don’t move them, or you’ll be spanked and bound.”

Her wide eyes looked at him, and she nodded slowly, clasping the long fingers behind her. He wove a hand in her hair, using the grip to direct her, his other hand slipping his long cock into her waiting mouth. Her lips sealed around him, and she took him deep into her throat, her gag reflex pressing him against the roof of her mouth.

“Jesus!” Maddox couldn’t contain his groan as he slid down her slender throat. He eased out and she licked him, circling the head with the tip of her lovely tongue. Libby gave him a crooked smile as she flicked the tip with short, fast strokes that had him wanting to pound into her face once more. He restrained that primal need, though, relishing extending the ride to his climax.

Her tongue followed the underside of his cock, licking his balls slowly and then gently sucking them into her mouth. She softly rolled them around, serving the sensitive flesh with her tongue. Libby backed away, letting them slip out, blowing on the delicate, wet sac. His hips thrust, his dick bouncing off his lower belly. Maddox growled, grasping the hair on either side of her head, jamming himself into her with such force that she gagged loudly, rising up on her knees, trying to shorten the depth of his thrusts.

“I’m sorry, kitten. Shit. Sorry, Libby.”

Control, asswipe! Jesus Christ!

He slowly, languidly, fucked her mouth, easing himself further and further into her, his thighs trembling, his spine tingling with his upcoming orgasm. Libby tightened her lips around him and pulled, causing a suction so strong on him that he swore his eyes crossed his semen gathering. Maddox growled deep in his chest, jamming his cock hard into her throat, his seed bursting in steady streams. He pulled out, letting her catch her breath, then slowly eased himself back into the dark channel, making her take the very last spurt.

Maddox sighed loudly, exhausted.

With his eyes closed, his body dripping with sweat, he trembled as he struggled to recover. Libby licked him dry with short quick strokes and long, slow drags of her tongue along the length of his shaft. Finally, he’d recovered, and he realized that she was quietly watching him, cupping and playing with his balls, stroking the wiry hair there, kissing his now semi flaccid cock.

“I love you, Daddy.”

“I love you too, baby. Let’s take a nap and then we’ll order some takeout.”

“Oh, thank God. I don’t think I could cook dinner if I tried.” She giggled, flopping into bed next to him, laying her head on his chest. She fell asleep almost immediately.

Maddox lightly traced the track marks on her bottom as she slumbered. The tram lines still felt hot to the touch. He loved feeling them under the pad of his finger, and he reveled in the power and sadistic pleasure of being the cause of her cane stripes. Maddox took pleasure in knowing that she’d remember him because of the burn that permeated her consciousness the next day. Libby would remember him, thinking about the dominance he had over her, respecting his authority and discipline.

She’d soon be
his wife
. His love, carrying his name.

L
ibby’s walked to the Social Security Administration Office where she held a management job in human resources, her high heels clicking on the sidewalk. Nothing beat a fall day in Los Angeles—crystal blue sky without a cloud in the sight, sunny and warm.

The lower stripes from the cane rubbed against her stockings, as did the garters Maddox made her wear this morning. She had hoped to slide on a skirt with a thong, no restrictions or anything binding against her sore bottom, but Maddox had been ready for her.

His sadistic side made her put on lacy briefs; the material would be rubbing on her skin all day. Then when he opened her panty drawer, pulling out her garter and stockings, her face had dropped. She’d tried begging, tugging on the reasonable side of him, pleading that it would make work almost impossible. And Maddox, as frustratingly devilish as he was handsome, had winked at her, responding, “That’s the point, my dear.”

With every stride she took, those damn garter belts brushed against the horizontal stripes on her bottom, in addition, the lace brushing against the already inflamed skin. No doubt it would be a long day.

Her mind went to the wedding—
their wedding—
which often happened these days. Libby had found some adorable invitations. They were tan burlap with what looked like lacy doilies on the edging—country, yet classy—just as she pictured their wedding. The choice was between white, silver, or slate accent designs on the invitation. She’d shown him the options, and Daddy had said that he couldn’t see any difference between slate and silver and, therefore, he chose white to avoid confusion.