A Firm Hand: 2 (Bound to You) (9 page)

Ow!
Stingy little thing.

“Making yourself at home, I see.”

Her stomach dropped. She turned around and on instinct attempted to conceal the crop behind her. This was bad. How long had he been standing there?

Brian leaned against the doorframe looking smug and sexy. Her mouth went dry as she drank in his hard lines and sculpted planes, her indiscretion forgotten for the moment. His skin was slick with sweat that trailed in small droplets down his muscular chest and abs. His running shorts were slung low enough to show a thin trail of hair leading from his navel to what she knew to be a rather large cock. Nude, he’d be a stunning specimen. She wondered if he’d pose for her. Now was probably not the time to ask him.

“The best part about this arrangement,” he said as he approached her, “is that I don’t have to think up reasons to punish you. You seem to find trouble well enough on your own. And you’ve even taken the courtesy of choosing your own implement.” He held out his hand. “Crop.”

She sighed and handed it over.

“Strip, but leave the lingerie. I’d like to admire my purchase.”

She shed her clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor, then sank to her knees and bowed her head.

“Knees apart, place your hands on your thighs palm up and keep your chin up but your eyes down.”

She followed his instruction to the letter.

“There. Perfect submissive posture. There’s hope for you yet.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t go thanking me just yet.”

“I meant for the lingerie. It’s beautiful.”

“I didn’t buy it for you.” He circled her, whippy implement in hand.

“I still wanted to say thank you.”

“Believe me, it was my pleasure.”

Oh please don’t flirt with me right before you punish me.

“I’m debating what I should do with you.” He sucked air through his teeth as he narrowed his eyes, all the while tapping the crop against his leg. “Get on the bed, on your hands and knees.”

She rose to her feet and climbed onto the firm mattress, waiting for further instruction. She’d earned this punishment and would accept it as best she could. She knew better than to snoop through his things. You’d think she’d have learned the first time.

He trailed the crop along her spine. “Back straight.”

She brought her knees together and bent her elbows to level her body, flattening her back as attractively as she could.

He tapped the leather tip under her chin. “Head up.”

She obeyed, straining her neck. He disappeared from her line of sight. She waited for the first blow, bracing for the pain to come. This was going to hurt. When he balanced the length of the thin instrument across her hips, resting it just above her ass, she flinched. What was he doing?

“Now, I want you to keep still and think about what you’ve done while I shower. If you let the crop fall, I’ll be disappointed enough to make it fifteen strokes instead of ten.”

Great.
“Yes Sir.”

She wanted to turn her head so she could see his expression. Was he unhappy with her? Her curiosity would have to go unsatisfied because she didn’t dare move. One wrong shift and the crop would fall. She wasn’t going to fail her task before he’d even left the room. Finally, she heard the squeak of his running shoes fade from the room.

If she’d known she’d have to hold this pose she’d have chosen a more comfortable position. Her vain attempt to present Brian a pretty submissive posture was coming back to haunt her. The muscles in her arms were already aching from the strain of holding her body mid-push-up. If that didn’t kill her, the anticipation just might, which she supposed was the point of this little exercise.

How hard would he punish her? Brian knew what he was doing when it came to dishing out discipline. He was careful, methodical even—knowledge that comforted her as much as it scared her. The dull sting on her calf told her the crop would be vicious. She bet it would leave pretty marks though. The belt had been painful to endure, but even with twenty-five lashes, she’d only been left with the faintest purple discoloration. The bruise thing was starting to become an obsession. She wanted a reminder, a piece of Brian she could wear on her skin. Talk about a silly and twisted romantic notion. At least she wasn’t dreaming of roses or marriage proposals.

Jesus. How long did it take to shower? Her arms trembled in their awkward position. She knew it had probably only been fifteen minutes, twenty at the most, but it felt as if she’d been kneeling on the bed for an excruciating hour. Calming herself, she took steady breaths and ignored the burning in her muscles.

The sound of soft footfalls approaching the bed made her want to cry in appreciation. The spicy, crisp scent of his soap enveloped her. She loved the way men smelled when they were fresh from a shower and this one was no exception.

“Good girl.” Reaching over, he gently tucked her hair behind her ear, his fingertips lingering on the curve of her jaw.

She had an overwhelming urge to rub her face against his hand but suppressed it, not wanting him to think she was being overly affectionate.

He lifted the crop from her back. “I knew you had it in you to be obedient.”

Just when she was starting to like him, he had to go and provoke her. Irritating man.

“Knees apart, ass out, and don’t clench. It will hurt worse if you do.”

She widened her legs, thrust her bottom out and took a moment to stretch her sore arms. Getting into position was the easy part, preparing for the pain was more difficult. Breathe. Accept. Submit. She could do this.

“Now tell me, why are you being punished?”

Was he going to lecture her now? Wonderful. She cocked her head, remembering to look him in the eyes. “Because I discovered your kinky toy box… Sir.”

He brought the crop down on her ass. She jumped at the immediate, sharp sting.

Ow.
Okay, so maybe now was not the time for smart remarks. This punishment was going to hurt
a lot
. She didn’t need to make it worse by mouthing off.

“Would you like to try that again?”

“I’m being punished for snooping through your things again. I’m sorry, Sir. I was wrong to do that.”

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“No Sir.”

“Fifteen. Count for me and I want to hear you.”

“Fifteen?”

“I can make it twenty.”

“No. Fifteen is perfect.”

“So glad you approve,” he said dryly.

The crop made that wicked
swishing
sound before it landed with another painful sting.

“Two,” she called out.

He burst out laughing. “Nice try. I swear, if you didn’t make me laugh, I would beat you to a bloody pulp. Start over, smart-ass.”

She laid her cheek down on the fluffy duvet with a groan. “Yes Sir.” She wasn’t trying to be funny. He’d already hit her once, so technically, that last one
was
two.

The next stripe across her flesh made her grit her teeth. “One.” Oh, but the following stroke was even worse. “Two.”

The next six were almost bearable as he treated each cheek with equal stinging punishment so her entire ass was warmed. She counted them off, clearly enunciating each number. The ninth blow stole her breath. Her hands dug into the bedcovers, gripping the material as she struggled to find her voice. “
Nine.
”

Whack.

“Ow!”
Breathe.
“Ten.”

Whack.

A scream escaped her.
Accept.
“Eleven.”

The next vicious stroke caught her just right and instinctively she folded her body, tucking her legs underneath in an effort to protect herself.

“Up.” He tapped the crop on the outside of her hip. “Now, or I will make it twenty.”

Her pussy grew wet and swelled with arousal as tears ran freely down her cheeks. Pain and pleasure made for a twisted union. Taking a deep breath, she pushed herself back into position.
Submit.
“Yes Sir… Twelve.”

Whack.

She shrieked into the duvet, no longer capable of restraining her reactions.

“Do you understand what this is really about?” he asked.

“No Sir,” she replied. She couldn’t think past the pain or the throbbing arousal that came with it. For the first time in a long while, her brain hadn’t automatically supplied a sarcastic remark. He’d driven her mind into silence.

“It’s about you being disrespectful. Your snide comments and inability to consider my privacy tell me you lack respect. In the future, I want you to think before you act and speak.”

“Yes Sir.” He was right. She’d been extremely disrespectful toward him. She made a rotten submissive.

“Good girl. Two more.”

She gritted her teeth through the last strokes, willing her body to accept the pain. The intense sting blazing across her flesh was ferocious. She groaned with relief when he tossed the crop on the bed next to her.

“You may get up.”

“Thank you, Sir.” Pushing herself up, she sat back on her heels, mindful of her abused backside. She sniffed and wiped away tears with the back of her hand.

Startling her, he pulled her to him, enfolding her in his arms and resting her head on his chest. She knelt on the bed before him and sagged into the strength of his body.

He ran his fingers through her hair and kissed her on the top of her head. “You handled that very well.”

His praise made her heart soar. She closed her eyes and savored the comfort of his embrace. She had no idea how long the moment would last.

“So well, in fact, I think I’ll let you come when I fuck you.”

Oh thank god.

He unclasped her bra, removed it and her panties then pushed her down on the bed and maneuvered her so that she was on all fours.“I’m going to fuck you from behind so I can stare at your lovely welted ass. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, Brian.” Oh, she was so on board with that. He could have her anyway he wanted her.

He made a sound low in his throat as he sank a finger inside of her already wet pussy. “Such a pain slut.”

She wanted to protest, but couldn’t deny how obscenely arousing the cropping had been. The slickness of her pussy was testament to that.

Before she had the chance to enjoy the invasion of his finger, he withdrew and replaced it with the thickness of his cock. She moaned as he slowly stretched and filled her. The fine hairs on his thighs chafed her freshly marked skin, but she didn’t mind, not one bit. He held still for a long, torturous moment. So long, it became increasingly difficult to remain motionless. Every part of her screamed to thrust against him, grind him deeper. She fought the urge, knowing she would be reprimanded for it.

She let loose an appreciative sigh when he finally began to move, gently at first, then he grabbed her hips and fucked her hard. He was void of tenderness, almost feral, driving into her with a force that made her arms weak. His intensity made it seem as if he wanted to obliterate the intimacy they’d shared mere moments ago, and it was working. Every deep thrust brought his body against her abused flesh. She welcomed the pain, relished it as it blended with the pleasure he forced on her with his cock.