Red Hot Obsessions (203 page)

He nodded at me to stand, and I did.

He turned the light off and closed the door. “Very good, get in.”

I gracefully stepped across the large white tiles with black diamond inserts, climbed the two steps and dipped my toe in, finding he was right. It was piping hot, just like I like it. I eased my way into the milky liquid that caressed like liquid silk. It would feel glorious in about ten seconds, once I adjusted to the heat. The scents of rose water, strawberries and coconut surrounded me and I sighed. I breathed in deeply. He
was
such a caring, considerate... I looked at him. Was he mine?
Mine?
For more than just this moment? This wonderful moment where he’d cleanse me and make me un-bad? I sure hoped. I flipped my hair over the back of the tub as I nestled into the wonder he’d thoughtfully prepared for me. “Thank you for drawing a bath for me, Sir. It feels incredible.”

He hopped up on the vanity and threaded his fingers together as I sank down. It stole my breath, with him suddenly looking so boyish again but with eyes that were
all
man.

I rested my head on the padding, closed my eyelids and set my arms on the edges of the oval.

“You’re not here to soak, Addison. Scrub off your filth.”

I grabbed a sea sponge and poured a generous amount of liquid soap onto it, then dunked it into the water and squeezed it to get it dripping with bubbles. I began running it all over my body.

“Scrub. You are dirty, dirty. Get rid of it.”

I did it faster and rougher, raising my legs out of the water, and then my butt with a twist up to all fours. Kneeling and turning his way, I punished my breasts with the sponge, breasts that had been in some other guy’s mouth.

“Tell me, Addison. What was Cherry?”

I was working up a sweat and wiped my brow. “Um, a popsicle was shoved up inside me, free for the toying up of my entire body. People had to suck off the juice, and I couldn’t leave until it was entirely consumed off my body, um, including my cunt, if it was placed there.”

He sounded hurt when he said, “People? Who touched you and ate you out exactly? How many people?”

“Um, well, there were two. The attendant touched me to make sure I was ready, so I don’t count her. The girl I spanked came in first. She found me somehow and came in to return a good deed. While rubbing the chilled treat on and inside me, she pinched the lips of my swollen labia, hard, so hard, on each side, multiple times, and the cold that had, at first, been unbearable, was suddenly, beautifully not. She licked up all the juice she spilled.”

“I’ll make a note of that.”

For me? Or for some other sub? I frowned.

“Were you entirely naked?”

“Panties off, costume on. I was dressed like a snow queen with a long wig of platinum blond curls, a mask and a short white dress with a billowed skirt.”

“I don’t give a shit what you were wearing, as long as it was something. Who else touched you, Addison?”

“A guy. I already mentioned him.”

“Right. You came in his fucking mouth. I’m pissed about that. Stand up.”

I did, white water pouring off me.

“What did he do, Addison? That made you come!”

“Um, he...”

“Scrub
everywhere
he touched. He what?”

“He covered my breasts with cherry juice and sucked it off,” I whirled the sponge hard in circles and tickling rushed down my body. “And he shoved the popsicle into me. He fucked me with it, hard and fast. I liked that so much. It was, um, making me so wet and hot. I’m sorry.”

“Turn around. Spread your legs.”

I did and heard him hop down onto the tile. He stormed over to me and claimed the sponge from my hand. “And then he ended up, somehow, mouthing your cherry-flavored holes?” Logan scrubbed me between the legs and up my butt crack, so vigorously, like he was trying to scrape eggs of a pan, or erase the wicked deed I’d done.

I cried because I needed this so much. If only he could scrub off the inside.
Wait! Maybe he will.

“What happened? Tell me everything he did.”

“He was sucking and licking and biting me there and thrusting his tongue up inside me. He slid the popsicle off, then dove back in. If a piece broke off in me, it was the rules that he couldn’t leave until it was gone. During this warm and cold collision, he rubbed my clit with his thumb and was sucking and driving that tongue up. Before I knew it, I started to climax, and he wouldn’t move. He wouldn’t get off me, and he waited until I went entirely still and every bit of my juice was consumed.”

“Did you
want
to come?”

“No,” I screeched.

“You’re sure about that?”

“Yes.”

“There’s nothing else?”

“No. That’s it.” Good god, except for the most embarrassing thing.

He scrubbed and scrubbed me, all over my body, but especially between the legs, until I was sore and achy, then he dropped the sponge in the water and turned on the shower head. He stretched it up to me and waved it with a snake’s slither all over my body. The spray glided everywhere, popping the bubbles and conquering all of the clusters of soap. He glided his free hand over me too. The flowing stream was the best, most cleansing thing of this process. “Okay. You’ve been washed enough. You are clean. Now I want you to turn around, bend over and grab the bath bar with both hands.”

I did as he asked. My clenched hands were down past my knees now and my butt, high and vulnerable in the air.

“Do you know the last thing you need, Addison? Do you know what needs to happen for you to feel better and absolved?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Tell me what you need, Addison.”

I started to cry and sniffle. “I … I need you to spank me.”

“Yes. But do you know that right now, a spanking will hold a deeper sting with your skin being all wet, that each strike will feel like dozens hitting all at once? I’m going to use the bath brush, and that is going to hurt like hell. Do you understand that? I think, for your sake, that you need that kind of pain. A deep-cutting burn. A quick-growing red. Three will be from me for showing up late, for being so naughty the past week and a half and for wasting your climax on a troll, and the rest will be up to you. This punishment spanking is about
you
, when you feel you’ve paid your due to me, when you feel you’ve had enough to forgive yourself. I can’t gauge that. I don’t know your threshold here, more so with you drenched. So, I want you to say, “lilacs,” when you break through, when you’ve had enough. Ask me to punish you and give you what you need.”

“I understand. Punish me, Sir. Please spank my wet bottom with the brush.” An ache coiled in my stomach and cramped me up. I closed my eyes as he tapped it on my cheek five times.

He drew his hand back, and I wailed when it connected with the crushing pinch of spikes.

“Aaaaaooowww.” I wiggled and got back into position.

When he hit me again on the other side, I squirmed and sobbed, “Owww, oww.” The third and last punishment whack I took more gracefully, steeling myself to not move at all. I didn’t even shout out, I just gritted my teeth and let out a grunt.

Stinging slaps kept crashing into my dripping flesh, multiplying the lingering pain tenfold at every strike. I was shaking so hard, folded in half before him, I thought my knees would give way, but I tightened my grip on the bath bar, determined to not say “lilacs” until consciousness was close to falling away. After seven whacks with the bath brush–no doubt straight from Satan’s coffers–my ass felt on fire and ripped apart.

He lent me an exit pass again with an insistent, “Say
lilacs
, Addison,” as I twisted to relieve some of the sting, but I got back into position and begged for another.

When the next blast swooped into my cheeks with a deafening splat, I could no longer contain the ugly wail clawing up my throat, but so deserving of this spanking, this agony, this hell, every bit of it for of my betrayal and disobedience, I cracked out, “More.”

“You can say lilacs at any time.”

Again … Again. The splat-scream, splat-scream rhythm filled the air and I didn’t want it to stop. Again. I bit down on my lip, refusing to let myself off the hook.

“Addison, you are beet red and you will be sporting bruises later. Say lilacs.” Smack.

I jerked and danced on my feet, tucked my foot in around my calf and shook my head. I got back in position. “Sorry. Another, Sir.” Smack. “Aaaaooow, ow.”

“Say lilacs. I think we’re good. You’ve had plenty.” Smack.

“Nooooo.”

“No?” Smack. “Say it.”

I was wailing so hard I was silent, like a baby who’d been left alone for days.

Splat. “Say–splat–it!”

I didn’t.

On the next one, he doubled the power behind it, maybe to scare me off, but when the brush crash-landed into my sore flesh, I let out the loudest, most horrific scream of my life and almost fell over.

But, I stubbornly clung to my resolve and asked for another.

“My god, Addison, say
lilacs
. Fucking say it.” He smacked me again, barely, he tapped me really. When my weeping hit the air because he was showing me mercy, he chucked the brush and it clacked on the floor. He spun me around and clutched my face, his fingers in my hair. He crushed his mouth to mine, and then switched pressure and kissed me like a China doll. “Why aren’t you saying it? You don’t have to hurt like this. I don’t want to hurt you like this. I’ve forgiven you. Let it go. Just let go. It’s done, it’s done. Okay?” He kept kissing me and kissing me with the softest touch of his lips. I kissed him back, but I did not deserve his lips on me or the gentle caress strolling down my back.

I opened my mouth when he slid his tongue along my entrance, and I sucked on his slick treat. In spite of my desire to get heated, he never gave me more than gentle slides in and rolls around my own tongue. It was loving and sensual and sweet, meant to console not to hitch up.

He tugged me out of the tub and pulled me into his arms. I cried against his chest. He dried my cheeks and body off with the softest, fluffiest towel in the world and rubbed cream all over my bottom with gentle caresses. It stung with his hands on me, as he applied it with circles, but it also deliciously soothed and cooled just the same. He went back to planting soft kisses on my lips and face as he stroked my hair. “Why didn’t you say it?”

“Because I never want to do anything to disappoint you like that again. I had to make sure I got the message.”

“Did you get it?”

“I think so.”

“Good.” He took me by the hand, “Come here,” and escorted me out of the bathroom. “Wait here.” He stepped into his closet and emerged with a white button-down shirt. He slid it on my arms, leaving it unbuttoned. He whisked me up into his arms and carried me, my god, was he carrying me to bed, to that sea of blue that could double as a prison of pleasure and pain?
His
bed, yes.

A smoldering, sizzling current washed through me as he laid me down on my side. He climbed over me and nestled beside me. His fingers flitted along my arms. “You didn’t tell me everything, Addison. You lied to me. I think that’s why you’re still feeling guilty. What didn’t you tell me?”

I shook my head, “I don’t know what you mean.”

“At the party. With that guy. You left out one vital detail.”

My breath started skipping. “I did?”

“Yes, you left out the most important part.”

I gawked. He knew, he knew. How on earth did he know?

“Yes, Addison,
that
. It’s what you
almost
said. Wanna know how I know?”

“I–”

“I will tell you. Not many girls would be devastated to climax, but
you
, with a severe craving for kink and no Dom to feed it, not to mention a tiny birthmark on your upper, inner thigh that looks like a smudge of self-tanner, most definitely, definitely would. And my good friend happened to be there, covering your snow queen body in cherry juice, though he said a swan.”

My jaw dropped and my face flashed with heat. “Noooo. No, no. Ohmygod.”

“You might even know him, maybe you’ve seen him around. He’s in the Manor all the time, dating one of your soon-to-be Sisters. He loves to sneak in after hours. He planted those notes for me. He was so turned on from his night of devouring girls until they came in his mouth, I’m sure he fucked his girl five times. Ya wanna know whose mouth you came in? Wanna know his name?”

Hot-cold guy?
I shook my head profusely. “No, never. Don’t tell me, Logan, please.”

“I think you should know it.”

“I never want to know whose mouth I came in. I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“No. It would be too horrible to know who that guy is?”

“You’re right. It
would
be horrible … but,
he
doesn’t know that your little, pink nipples, once sucked, turn into wonderful gumdrops.”

“What?”

“
He
also doesn’t know that your most hollow place is so very tight and salty sweet, providing the perfect hideout for a frisky tongue. And
he
doesn’t know that the rhythm of your satisfaction is a quick-quick-slow rumba or that you milk out nectar of the gods when it hits its crescendo. He doesn’t know what you were
going
to say ... but didn’t. And he doesn’t know that
that
word, that name, is always right there ... in your whispers, in your dreams, in your fantasies and in your screams. And he doesn’t know what it’s like to have a rocket fired up his dick from the unspoken truth that’s shut up behind a naughty girl’s lips. I’d think, my sweet, that you’d be itching, dying to know the name of the guy who does.”

“Logan.” I was swimming, soaring, dripping with heat. “That is the fucking hottest thing I’ve ever heard.” I slapped my mouth, but then realized I’d already used the word ‘fuck’ and all of its cousins quite a lot. Maybe he just didn’t like to hear cursing when he was punishing me. “It was you? How could it have been you? He spoke to me right before.”

He was stroking my arms, so tenderly and kissing my heavy eyelids and forehead.

I felt so comfortable, so content, blissful and safe.

“Last-minute switch. You should not have omitted that. I asked for
every
detail and that was the best part. When you said that, my mouth dropped open, my eyes bulged like saucers and a veracious lust punched me in the nuts.”