My smile mimicked his,
and just before I took him in my mouth, he gently took my hand from his thigh
and wrapped it around the base of his shaft, indicating that I should use it as
well. I did as he instructed, pumping up and down hard, wrapping my lips around
him tightly. His hand moved to my hair, grasping tightly, and I wondered if he
was trying to hold back, to prevent himself from uttering something he
shouldn’t. He tilted his head back and at the same time, pushed his chair
forward so that I was forced to retreat under his desk.
In that moment, I
wanted a victory over Dallon King.
I sat back, looking up
at him coyly and licking his length slowly, playing with him like I might a
Popsicle. His eyes hardened as he watched, his knuckles white around his phone.
And then I knew for certain his phone wasn’t on mute.
We were playing a very
dangerous game.
I stood, still
smiling, and pulled down my shorts. His eyes widened. Before he could move, I
was on his lap, one hand on his shoulder and the other trying to guide him
inside of me. His other hand shot out, grasped my hip and squeezed. I inhaled
hard. His teeth were clenched, that muscle in his cheek twitching.
We were frozen eye to
eye, gazes fierce, as someone rambled on about mining with a tin voice. Then
Dallon hit end on his phone, dropped it over his shoulder.
“Fuck it.”
He stood and I slid
off him, stepping back when I realized his expression was angry.
“You tried to take
control,” he said in a low voice.
I bit my lip, unable
to deny it. Instead, I tried to distract him. “Why are you wearing a suit on a
Saturday morning?”
His expression
remained the same. “I had an early morning conference call. I was on camera.”
The color drained out
of my face. “Not the one you were just on?”
Now he smiled. “No,
Amy, that was my second call of the morning.”
I sighed visibly,
feeling silly for thinking so, and peeked up at him. “I’m sorry.”
“Face my desk.”
I turned around
slowly, holding my breath.
“Pull down your shorts
and bend over, placing your forearms on its surface.”
I did as he asked,
memories of the first night we met resurfacing. I’d been nervous because I
didn’t know what to expect and wanted to please him. Now I still found myself
wanting to please him, but for a completely different reason.
“I’m going to punish
you,” he began and involuntarily, a throb began between my legs. “You agreed to
relinquish control to me for one entire day, yet you failed with your first
test of the morning.”
I wanted to argue and
remind him how well I’d done the night before, but I didn’t dare. There was
nothing to gain from angering him further.
“I’m going to spank
you, but it’s for punishment, so it will be a lot harder than I’ve spanked you
in the past.” He waited a moment before he continued, his hands gently
caressing my butt cheeks, warming them. “I’m going to spank you ten times, and
I want you to count.”
The first slap caught
me by surprise and I cried out, immediately moving out of position.
Dallon sighed. “Now
I’m afraid we will have to start over. Get back into position and don’t forget
to count.”
I clenched my jaw and
prepared myself this time, and when his hand slapped my other cheek, I didn’t
hesitate. “One.”
He smacked his hand
across both cheeks. “And don’t forget to call me “Sir”. We’ll start again.”
His hand came down,
and I cried out, “One, Sir!”
He continued that way,
alternating slaps between cheeks and not pausing to caress me like he had
before. By the tenth slap, I hated him. Tears blurred my eyes and I could
barely count the final spank. My throat was swollen from trying to hold back.
“Very good.” Dallon’s
hands massaged my sore flesh. Grasping my waist, he helped me to stand again,
pulling up my shorts carefully as if suddenly worried about hurting me.
I didn’t look him in
the eye. I was enraged, wanted to hurt him like he had hurt me. My hands balled
into fists at my sides as angry tears fell onto my cheeks.
“Look at me,” Dallon
said, his voice soft.
I looked up, shooting
him a nasty look.
“Careful,” he warned.
I sniffed but wiped
the look off my face.
“Do you know why I did
that?”
“Because I took
control.”
“Yes. I warned you the
other night that there would be a punishment, did I not?”
I wiped the tears away
with the back of my hand, nodding almost imperceptibly.
“If you were anyone
else, I would have chosen a higher number, but I know how hard it is for you to
give me control. It’s one of the things I like most about you.”
This surprised me.
“I’m afraid I made a mistake, agreeing to this. I have a feeling that I’m going
to get hurt a lot.”
“There are other ways
to punish you besides pain, don’t worry about that.” He moved to stand in front
of the full length mirror on the wall beside his desk, motioned me over. He
began to undress me slowly, his voice gentle.
“You on your knees
under my desk turned me on more than you know,” he said, cupping my cheek with
his hand, “and what happened just now only added to it. I suspect it did for
you too.”
I bit my lip and
looked down, and he chuckled softly.
“The only difference
is, I can make you do something about it.”
My head shot up. “What
do you mean?”
He tossed my bed
clothes into a pile on his chair. “I
mean
that not only did you take
control back there, but you tried to gain pleasure for yourself. The lesson
wasn’t about that, Amy. It was about learning to give pleasure without receiving
pleasure in return.”
My cheeks heated. “You
wouldn’t make me do that after… after what just happened.”
“Of course I would.
What’s more, I’m going to. Let’s see what you’ve learned.”
As he unzipped
himself, I stood shaking in front of him, not out of fear but rage. His raised
an eyebrow at me expectantly, and I knew I was on a precipice: I could either
play his game, or I could walk away. I didn’t know what Dallon suspected I
would do, but I knew what he wanted me to do. I could see it in his eyes—it wasn’t
just something he wanted, it was something he needed.
So I kneeled in front
of him and heard his answering sigh as I took him in my mouth again. I ran my
tongue up the shaft and into the slit at the top, then sucked gently at its
tip.
“Good girl.” Dallon’s
voice was deep, both hands moving into my hair.
Spurred on, I moved
faster.
“You look unbelievable
sexy right now,” he said with a groan, and I remembered that we were in front
of the mirror. What an image we must have made: him in a suit and me naked in
front of him, sucking him off. To my embarrassment, the throb between my legs
grew stronger, hotter. What had Dallon done to me?
He climaxed and I
swallowed quickly, the stories Sam had told me about the taste proving to be
true. Still, as I stood on shaky legs, there was no denying that it hadn’t
affected me; I could feel the wetness between my legs.
Dallon tided himself
and then passed me my clothes, his demeanor almost business-like. “Have a warm
shower but don’t touch yourself. I’m going to make us breakfast.”
With that, he strolled
out of the room.
***
I’d only touched myself a few times before, a long, long
time ago. Now I desperately wanted to but it wasn’t allowed.
In the shower, I washed between my legs gently, careful
not to stimulate myself too much. Even the water trickling down my body or
hitting me in certain spots put me in danger of unraveling.
He wanted me needy, and that’s what I was.
My mind traveled to how I’d felt in his study, the way
letting him use me had made me feel. How could it be? From the very beginning,
Dallon had been able to sense in me something that I hadn’t recognized in
myself, or else something that I couldn’t face. The reason I was still here,
that I had agreed to try for one day, was because I knew what Dallon could give
me. He wasn’t forcing me to be submissive; in the end, I had all the power
because I could simply say no. I had obeyed him in there because nothing had
made me feel as aroused or strong as subjugating myself to Dallon King.
And when I submitted to him, he fell apart.
I toweled dry and pulled on my robe to enter the
kitchen. Dallon was just finishing frying up bacon and on the counter were two
plates with eggs and fruit.
“Go rest in the dining room,” he told me, not glancing
up.
The table was already set. When I sat down, I winced—I
hadn’t realized how sore I was. I fiddled with my fork until Dallon arrived and
placed a plate in front of me.
“I wanted to make you breakfast.”
“Thank you.”
I forked a blackberry and put it in my mouth. Dallon was
watching me intently.
“Are you cold?”
“No.” I hesitated. “No… Sir.”
The right side of his mouth turned up slightly. He still
hadn’t touched his meal. “How do you feel?”
“Sore.”
“Good. That was the point. The discomfort will remind
you not to pull something like that again the future.” He lifted his fork and
tapped it against his bottom lip, studying me thoughtfully. “How else do you
feel?”
I squirmed a little. “Frustrated.”
He chuckled. “That wasn’t my intention at first, but a
happy consequence nevertheless.”
“Hmph.” I stabbed another blackberry.
“If you want to know, I think you did very well.”
I froze before scooping my eggs, looked up at him
through my lashes. “You do?”
“Yes. You took your punishment in stride and you were
very… attentive.” He smirked, one side of his mouth turning up.
“Thank you. Sir.”
He chuckled again. “No need to call me that now, though
it makes me hard every time you do. Eat up.”
Finally, he began work on his own plate. He was still
wearing his suit and still looked strong, dangerous and powerful. Dark and
Dangerous.
“So why did you have two calls this morning?”
“Oh, just some deals we’re working on.”
“Why the video call?”
“I find I’m more persuasive in person,” he winked.
I put down my fork. “You didn’t just say that.”
He shrugged and turned to his food again. “When you find
something that works, use it.”
“So you admit that part of your success comes from
people not being able to say no to you?”
“Thank God for women in the workplace,” he grinned.
“Ugh!” I shook my head in disgust, but I was smiling
too.
“I have something for you,” he said, his expression
serious. From his inside jacket pocket, he produced a small blue box with a
white bow, pushed it across the table toward me.
My heart pounded in my chest. It was a Tiffany box. I
looked up at him, and I must have looked panicked, because he smirked.
“Open it.”
With shaky hands, I untied the white ribbon, placed it
on the table. Holding my breath, I opened the box. Inside was a small blue
pouch, not the velvet ring box I’d been expecting, and I exhaled in a rush,
feeling silly for making assumptions. Turning the pouch over, I emptied its
contents into my hand: a silver heart-shaped lock on a chain.
I looked up at him and smiled. “Thank you, Dallon. It’s
very pretty.”
He was still studying me with that serious expression.
“It’s symbolic.”
“You have the key to my heart?”
“Something like that.” He stood up and moved behind me
to put it around my neck. “It’s a collar.”
I frowned. A collar? Maybe he’d meant choker, but it was
too long to be considered that.
He returned to his seat, steepled his fingers on the
surface of the table. “For a moment there, you wondered if it was a ring.”
I reddened and looked down. “Not actually.”
“It’s okay. It was a natural reaction.” He continued
carefully, his eyes never leaving me. “This isn’t a ring, but it has a similar
symbolic meaning. There was once a tradition that wearing a collar with an open
padlock indicated that one was seeking a Dominant partner, and wearing a collar
with a closed padlock indicated one was taken.”
Understanding settled in. This was his new age version
of a collar.
“This is just for us. I want you to know you are mine.”
“I thought you dislike labels.”
“I like this one very much.”
My cheeks heated again, and I squirmed in my feet at the
intensity in his gaze. The lock pendant suddenly felt hot against my skin. A
symbol that I belonged to him.