How to Punish Your Playboy (DommeNation #3) (17 page)

WE GOT BACK
into the car and began to drive, hours passing once more on the road. It was late afternoon, but it felt like we’d been driving since dawn. Rolling my shoulders, I fidgeted in the leather seat. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m enjoying this trip, but we’ve had way too much car time. What do you say we stop at some hokey roadside tourist traps? I need to stretch my legs.”

Aston dipped his sunglasses low and eyed my thighs. “Not that I’d ever complain about watching you stretch your legs,” he said, low and sexy, “but we’ve only been driving for three hours.”

“My butt’s asleep.”

“I can gladly wake it,” Aston replied, then mock-cringed as I raised my hand in warning.

I noticed a sign we were approaching. “Look, it says Hole N” The Rock.”

“Sounds fascinating,” Aston deadpanned.

I gave his arm a smack and pulled out my phone, Googling the place. “Says here that it’s an entire house chiseled out of the mountain!” I said. “It’s totally cheeseball, but I want to go. It sounds fun, and we haven’t done nearly enough road-trippy things.”

“Does sex in a corn field not count as a road-trippy thing?”

I pinched him.

“Green!” he cried.

“We are going to the silly house made of rock and you’re going to like it,” I lectured as he put the blinker on and we headed toward the tourist trap.

Bold white letters across the mountain’s side read H
OLE
N” T
HE
R
OCK
. “At least we know we’re going the right way,” I said as we pulled in closer. There really wasn’t much on the way from Denver to Salt Lake, but this was definitely something to do. I kind of wanted to see this sort of thing, the kind of Americana the road had to offer. I fixed my curls as we pulled into a spot.

When we got out, we immediately grabbed a brochure for the place and took a look. “Five-thousand-square-foot rock home, exotic animal zoo, and Trading Post,” I said slowly. “You know, your typical pit stop. Totally logical.”

Aston shook his head at the place. “I’m starting to think this was the best idea of the trip. I mean, outside of buying olive oil.”

We chuckled, hand in hand, as we entered the town of Moab’s craziest neighborhood. There were hundreds of things to catch your attention—a cactus made of bowling balls, a carving of Franklin D. Roosevelt, a zebra. But the home itself was what I wanted to see the most. We headed toward the structure—fourteen whole rooms carved out of rock—and entered.

“Says here it took the owner twelve years to carve this place,” I said, reading from the pamphlet.

Aston walked beside me, flabbergasted by the weirdness of it all. “What would make a person do this? I’m sure there were plenty of good homes to buy, and carving this couldn’t have been cheap.”

I nodded. “No kidding! But hey, you’ve got all this land, why not carve five-thousand-square-feet of living space,” I chuckled. “Seriously, that’s pretty much five times bigger than my last apartment.”

“It’s almost as big as my house,” Aston commented.

“Don’t you mean your parents’ house?” I joked.

Only the teasing had hit a sore spot. Aston’s smile was clearly fake, and he suddenly seemed fascinated by a painting on the wall.

We meandered through the stone house, with all its eccentric rock rooms, but the silence coming from Aston was troubling. I tried playing around with him, commenting on little tchotchkes, but he wasn’t very responsive.

When we exited the home, I led us toward the zoo. I mean, who can resist a llama or a yak on a hot day? He didn’t seem very jazzed by the animals.

“Want to buy something in the gift shop?” I asked. “I hear they have replicas of the stone toilet.”

Aston just shrugged. He shoved his hands in his pockets and waited for me to lead him ahead.

“Stop brooding,” I said, pulling his hand from his pocket and into my grasp. “I didn’t mean to make fun.”

“It’s not that,” he said, eyes obscured by his sunglasses. “I’m starting to worry a little. We’re kind of flying blind, you know? Hell, I don’t even know what our living arrangements in Vegas are going to be. I mean, I know you’re going out there for the contest, but are you going to stay?”

I nodded. “I think so. I’m done with Rhodie for right now,” I said, not feeling any nostalgia for our home state. “I’m excited. It’s an adventure.”

“But how are we going to get a place to stay? What if I don’t get the job,” he said, beginning to pace. “I’ve never . . . doubted myself before.”

I almost cracked a joke and said no kidding, but he genuinely seemed like he was having a crisis. “Then you’ll find another job. I’ve got the cash from the auction. That should cover our apartment for at least a few months, right?”

Aston brightened as we started making our way to the ice-cream stand. “So, you did just say our apartment, right?”

My eyes widened. “Um, I guess I did, didn’t I?” Oops, didn’t mean to commit so soon. I mean, I’d just said I love you, and now this?

He smiled and ordered a cookies and cream sundae.

“Just a lemon sorbet for me,” I said, remembering my battle with the bikini only hours before.

“I think maybe we should hit up the souvenir shop,” he said, paying for our desserts and taking a lusty scoop of Oreo goodness into his mouth. “We could pick out our place’s first decoration.”

I nodded, feeling excited nerves flutter in my stomach.
Our place?
“Yeah,” I said, warming up to the idea. We strolled into the Trading Post and enjoyed the cheesy souvenirs you could buy there—shot glasses, magnets, aprons, even Hole N” The Rock barbeque sauce.

“I like this,” Aston said, holding up a miniature carving of Franklin D. Roosevelt, one that matched the real thing outside.

“History buff?” I asked.

He shook his head at the awful piece of décor. “It’s totally bizarre. Everyone will want to know why the hell we have it. It’s a great conversation piece. A souvenir is supposed to remind you of the trip, and really, what would remind you of this place more than this?”

“A stone toilet?” I joked.

“Let’s hope our new place has better plumbing.”

“You must be exhausted from all the fucking and driving you’re doing, so today, maybe your sweet subbie should take control! Not necessarily in a Dom kind of way, but let him lead. His needs are just as important as yours, and if there’s something he wants to explore, let him go for it! Speaking of going for it, you’re going to need to scrounge up some serious willpower for today’s workout. We’re talking push-ups, girl. Get those guns blazing. I want you to try three types of push-ups—wide, narrow, and regular. Ten each, three sets. Sorry ’bout your tits. They’re gonna hurt. Maybe your sub will rub ’em for ya!”

Our stay in Salt Lake City was woefully short. While we both felt like it would be nice to just stop over in the city for more than a day, we were too antsy to get to our final destination. So, one overnight at a bland-ass hotel later, we hit the road again. This time, toward the Strip, baby.

In theory, driving with the top down into Vegas is the epitome of cool. A vintage car, a matching pinup, what could be more iconic?

But the drive from Salt Lake City to Vegas was impossibly hot from the very start, so sadly, we had to put Johnny’s top up to avoid sunstroke. I leaned toward the passenger-side window, getting my sunshine that way.

“Home stretch,” Aston said, reaching over and taking my hand. “Are you excited?”

I nodded. “I’d feel a little better if I knew what the heck my talent was going to be, but I have this damn boyfriend who wants me to just trust him.” I rolled my eyes. “Some nerve.”

“I’ve made all the necessary arrangements. Your talent will go off without a hitch,” he said, picking up his phone and giving it a little wag in my face, then snatching it away. “No peeking.”

I blinked. “What kind of talent needs arranging?”

“The kind you’ll be doing,” he answered.

“This whole living with you thing is just going to be a barrel of monkeys, isn’t it?” I asked, taking a sip from my iced tea, which sweat all over my hand. I was thankful for the cool.

“I guess we’ll soon find out. Although, I mean, we’ve technically been living together over a week now.”

“Happy anniversary!” I joked. “What’s the one-week anniversary present? Oh, I think it’s iced tea sweat,” I said, rubbing my wet hand across his arm.

“I actually think it’s a hand job while driving.”

I shook my head. “Perv.”

Aston’s phone rang, disturbing his lovely fantasy of having me jack him off while he drove. He picked it up and frowned at what he saw.

“Parents?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Sister.”

“You should answer it,” I said. “Your family is probably worried sick.”

“I do get along with Gianna the best out of all of them,” he said, weighing his next move. I watched as his finger slid across the phone to answer, and he held it to his ear.

It was hard having any kind of privacy in a small convertible, but I just put my head back on the glass and tried to tune out. Aston had turned the music down, so all I could hear was his answers.

Don’t eavesdrop, don’t eavesdrop, don’t eavesdrop.

“Yeah.”

Silence.

“I know.”

I picked at the polish on my fingernails, aching for a good manicure once I got into the city. French? Reverse French?

“What do you know about her?”

I picked my head up. That piqued my interest.

I slyly glanced over at Aston, who seemed to have softened. “She’s amazing, yeah. Just tell the others I’m fine. I . . . appreciate you calling.”

He paused and swallowed hard. “I know, but I can’t talk to Ma like this.”

I looked to my phone and began to busy myself with some apps.

“Don’t worry about that, we’ve already got some advice. Please tell them not to get involved. It’s not going to be a—”

Aston gripped the wheel, knuckles white. I tried so hard to tune out, but at this point, I knew what was going on.

“Listen, Gi, I appreciate it, but I’m fine. We’re fine. I’ll call you once we’re settled but yes, I’m relocating for a bit.” Another pause. “Yeah. Kiss those babies and tell them Uncle A misses them.”

He breathed in and out, anger cooling. “I know. Love you, too.”

After that exchange, Aston hung up the phone and placed it back on the charger. “I’m sorry,” he apologized.

“For what?” I asked.

He gave me a knowing look. “My family was asking about you. Gianna’s always looking out for me, but the others aren’t so considerate.”

I swallowed hard. “Aston, how do they know about me?”

His face heated. “That lawyer contacted my family, too.”

My head dropped into my hands. “Oh Aston, I’m so sorry. I wish I’d never—”

His head pivoted toward me as if on a swivel. “You wish what?”

“That I didn’t get you mixed up in my problems,” I said.

Aston’s jaw tightened, the way it did when he was on the phone with his sister. “If that’s the case, then we wouldn’t be in this car together. Is that what you want?” he asked, voice high and strangled.

“No, I—”

“This isn’t an ideal situation for either of us, Veronika, but we made our choices. I, for one, am happy with mine.”

“That’s not what I . . .” I said, then trailed off. I watched him put on the blinker. “What are you doing?”

He looked at me, eyes mystical and unreadable. “We’re taking one more excursion before Vegas.”

I clamped my mouth shut and let him drive. Aston was upset—upset about his family, conflicted about me and possibly our future—so I just let him drive. I was a Domme, but I was also sympathetic toward what he must be going through. To think about being estranged from your family must be hard, but to have them asking questions about a new relationship on top of it, that must be unbearable.

Aston began to fumble around with something, then finally grunted and pulled down an empty street off the main highway.

“Everything okay?” I asked. “Johnny sounds like he’s running okay but if you need me to look under the hood . . .”

Aston shook his head and got out of the car. “Hold tight,” he said, then closed the door. I sat in silence with my iced tea for a moment and he came back shortly, holding something.

“Remember how I said that you were going to have to trust me about your talent?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Well, you’re going to have to trust me about today, too,” he said, then held up his hand. He was holding the blindfold I’d grabbed from Sarah’s.

I looked at him questioningly, but not speaking.

“I want to surprise you. I want you to feel good and I want you to let yourself go for me. Can you do that, Mistress?”

My mouth worked, wanting to fumble for some sort of answer. I had no idea what he was talking about, so instead I just nodded. Could this be what Sarah meant by letting him take the reins?

“Good. I need to show you what you’ve done for me. Now here, let me,” he said, then softly tied the satin across my eyes.

I felt the soft darkness of the smooth fabric embrace me. It was a new sensation.

“That okay?” he asked.

Again, I nodded.

“Good,” his voice said, caressing my ear. I heard him shift back into his seat as I waited, anticipation growing. Part of me was nervous to have him in control like this—would he like it so much that we could never go back? I was snapped back to reality with a noise. It sounded like he had taken my tea, because I heard the ice rattle.

Soon I felt his soft, firm hands on my thighs. I let out a low moan.

“Just relax,” he said, soft and velvety. “I want you to enjoy. May I ease your seat back?”

I nodded, not wanting to break the spell with my voice. I felt Aston reach between my legs to the seat’s lever, which was by my foot. I parted my legs farther, allowing him access on several levels. The seat moved backward and I reclined. Fingers brushing up my legs startled me, and my desire for Aston built inside me. It was amazing what he could do to me with just the touch of his fingers. They slid slowly up my inner thighs, which were spread wide for him.

“Mistress, may I touch you?”

Again, a nod.

Aston’s skilled fingers hooked themselves under my panties and he dragged them slowly down my legs, teasing me with the softness of the fabric. I felt the cool air on my hot skin and squirmed. The juxtaposing temperatures made my body hypersensitive.

“This new feeling, do you like it? How does it feel to be blindfolded?” he asked. His voice was alarmingly low, stunning in its depth. It matched his eyes—rich, dark, consuming.

“Yes, I definitely like it,” I said, voice hoarse. “I mean, I don’t know what to expect, but I don’t want it to stop.”

Aston leaned in—I could sense his smell and warmth closer to me—and he brought his mouth to my ear. His breath tickled my skin, slinked up and down my neck, swirled inside the shell of my ear. My body felt electrified.

“This was how it was for me, Mistress,” he said, then suddenly I felt a cold shock between my legs and yelped at the pleasurable surprise of it. A jolt of euphoria shot through my core, shocking me with its erotic but freezing sensation. “I was entranced, but in the dark. I wanted more, but didn’t know what I’d get.” A startlingly cold finger slid up my slit and I felt a surge of wetness—it was ice, not a finger, I realized after a moment. He began to swirl the melting ice in circles around my clit. I bucked my hips, desperate for more of the sensation. The fire in my belly bloomed, spreading its luxurious warmth straight to my pussy.

Aston spoke again, his voice like chocolate. “And then, when I got it, it was a shock, like falling into an ice-cold lake. When you dominated me, I was immersed. But it was so good, it was so what my body needed, that I could never go back.” Now, he’d brought his other hand in, and while the ice rubbed me, his finger penetrated me. I groaned, engulfing him in my wetness. I clenched against it, wanting to feel his real thickness instead, but so lost in the moment that I didn’t care what was where. I just wanted him.

“Each time we were together was like the first time for me. You made my body feel things it’s never felt before.” On that word, Aston put his warm, wet pinky finger to my other hole, giving it a swirl, then penetrated slowly. The raw, taboo pleasure of it almost made me come on the spot. As he worked it in and out, I wanted to scream his name, lost in the reckless abandon of the twin feelings of him inside me. “You’ve made everything new, Veronika.” His fingers pumped faster, and the ice both numbed and thrilled me. I was lost in the pleasure, adrift in the sensations he was creating in me. Aston’s expert touch was taking me to places I’d never been, feeling things I’d never felt, and I could barely hold on to the orgasm that was building inside me. I bucked and thrashed, enthralled by his words and his manipulations of the most sensitive parts of my body.

And then, without warning or pretense, the ice was replaced with his hot, sucking mouth. The change of hard and cold to hot and soft overthrew all the self-control I had. I came hard, feeling a trifecta of pleasure on my clit, my G-spot, and my ass. I rode the tide out until just ripples remained, a trickling of pleasure as he pulled out of me, one finger at a time. His lips trailed down my thighs and then, a moment later, the blindfold was removed from my eyes.

Then there was nothing but light and Aston. A hazy halo surrounded his beautiful face, which regarded me with such reverence I couldn’t keep my love for him inside. It was like an awakening. Like I’d never used my body before, like I was taking my first steps or opening my eyes after a long, dark night. Everything was new, wondrous, and fresh.

“Oh, Aston,” I said, throwing my arms around him. “That’s what it was like for you?”

He nodded. “You’ve changed me, remade my body, made me your own. I had to show you a fraction of what it was like.”

I nuzzled my head into his chest. “I’m glad you did.”

He pulled away, cupped my face in his hands, and regarded me with a smile. “I promise to give the reins back now. The blindfold, the ice teasing, it’s yours again. I just wanted to illustrate my point.”

“Oh, your point was well-taken,” I said, placing a soft kiss on his lips, still wet from my body. “And while it was hard for me to not be in control, I do admit it was fun.”

“I prefer being the teased, not the teaser,” he chuckled, rolling his shoulders. He must have been cramped leaning across the seats like that.

I picked up what was left of my iced tea and took a long sip, thinking. “So, does that mean you don’t want an on-the-road hand job and maybe some ice on your balls?”

Aston’s eyes flew open and he bit his lip. “That’s one way to keep cool in this heat,” he said, eyeing the cup. “And no sane man would ever say no to that.”

I jiggled the cup and reached over to his fly. His erection was pressing hard against his jeans, and I was happy to unbutton them and let his cock free. It sprung out, happy to see me, and I placed my warm hand around it.

“Drive.”