Faithfully (Club Decadence) (12 page)

“Woman! I suggest you stay very still and let me catch my breath.” He pressed closer to her visibly trembling body, pinning her motionless to the wall. He dipped his head to speak
directly into her ear.

“Another assault on my cock and balls and I won’t be responsible for my actions.”

His voice was deep and steely. Megan felt more shivers run up her spine as she recognized the tone of command underlying the rough, growl in his voice. Although not entirely her fault, she knew he was irritated and saw her as the instigator in this incident.

“Sorry, Tony, but...” she began in a whisper.

“Megan!” Startled, and too afraid to move, she heard her name called in excitement. She could tell her sister Regan had spotted her in the crowd and was making her way to her side.

“Tony, what are you doing to my sister?” Regan asked as she pulled alongside the beer soaked couple.

“Trying to decide whether to fuck her or kill her,” Tony answered succinctly.

Megan gasped while Regan laughed happily. “I knew you guys would get something stirring. It’s ‘bout time, too.” The rest of her response was cut off suddenly as they heard a loud angry voice ring out from behind the petite redhead.

“Regan! I swear you are not going to be able to sit for a week this time. Where the FUCK did all these people come from? I thought this was going to be a small get-together with close friends?”

Three pairs of eyes turned to look at the angry man standing in the hallway, towering over his little wife. At 6’4”, Rick Spencer was a fuming brawny mass as his livid eyes drilled into his little wife. He was wearing his standard issue muscle shirt, which stretched tightly over his
pecs and displayed his magnificent chest. He stood with arms crossed, bulging, glaring down at his naughty little wife.

Regan turned and looked up, way up, at her enraged husband. “But sweetie,” she started pleadingly. “I didn’t invite all these people.” She reached out to stroke his arms gently, attempting to de-escalate the situation as she followed up. “I think it got leaked on Facebook and they just showed up.”

“They did, huh? Then who’s responsible for the keg? The party crashers just bring it out of the goodness of their hearts?” he demanded sarcastically. “You are so getting spanked, little missy. Move it to the bedroom, now.”

When he didn’t see Regan move immediately to obey his order, he roared again, “NOW!”

Regan instantly turned and bolted to their bedroom with the big man stalking angrily in her wake. Over his shoulder, he murmured a greeting. “Cap, be back shortly. This won’t take long since we can’t get too busy with that horde of drunken people in my house.”

Megan and Tony both turned their heads to follow their procession down the hallway. Megan caught her breath and gasped, “Rick!”

Rick turned and winked at his sister-in-law. “Megan, honey,” he said gently. “You know I won’t hurt her. I’d rather die.” He turned and followed his wife into the room, the door slamming behind him.

Megan stood still, fascinated by the fact that the big brute actually spanked her petite sister on a regular basis. Sighing softly, she turned all
melty inside because she knew they loved each other deeply. Then a vivid image flashed in her mind, of herself draped across Tony Rossi’s lap, bottom bared in anticipation of a spanking.

Next to her, Tony had apparently recovered. He watched the pink tint rise in her cheeks and heard the rapid breaths passing between her moist parted lips.

He straightened to his full height. Pressed against the wall, Megan couldn’t angle her head back far enough to meet his gaze as he towered over her. Reaching an impressive 6’6”, he was even bigger than her brother-in-law and used his size to intimidate his little captive. Pressing his hips into her soft, curvy form, he slid his chest down her front and across her gorgeous, round tits and gathered her hands in his large ones.

“Oh yeah, I’m gonna get me some of that kind of action, too.” He grinned wickedly as he looked down at the little blond wiggling in his arms. Taking a step back, he bent and put his shoulder into her stomach and lifted her easily. Struggling in earnest, Megan protested as she again felt her skirt rise up and bare her scantily clad behind, but her protests fell on deaf ears. Ignoring his struggling prisoner, Tony “Cap” Rossi, slide one hand up the back of her silky thighs to slip beneath her little skirt which had risen up enough to expose most of her lacy panties. His hand clamped firmly on a soft, rounded butt cheek and squeezed. Laughing at her outraged gasp, he turned and carried her down the hall to the guest room. The door slammed with a mighty shove, echoing through the startled party guests.

You Said Forever

By
Maddie Taylor

Chapter One

The engine of the Venom 1000 Twin Turbo growled as it made its way through the streets of San Antonio.  
I love this car,
Regan thought as she snuggled deep into the passenger’s seat.  Just the sight of the sexy silver convertible made her tingle inside.  Riding in it made her panties wet.  Looking over at the powerfully built man behind the wheel, she remembered all the times he made her come while spread wide over the sleek hood. She was ready for him to do it again. 

Her mouth watered as she looked at his profile. Her body temperature rose, and a flush washed over her skin as she breathed in his masculine scent - the faint smells of cigar smoke, leather and sex were a surprisingly erotic combination.  Regan’s eyes roamed his handsome face.  His thick, wavy brown hair curled against his collar, the rich dark color and smooth texture tempted her and she itched to run her fingers through the soft waves.  His green eyes were fixed on the road.  Along with his full, sensual lips, he had a strong jaw that right now was covered with a bristly five o’clock shadow.  Lord, Rick Spencer was gorgeous, and all hers. 

Regan wiggled on the seat as she felt the heat and wetness of her arousal build between her thighs.  Her movements inflamed her tender derriere and reminded her of the sound paddling he had given her earlier that evening.  She had been bitchy tonight, and that was something her very dominant husband had a low tolerance for.  Her pissy mood all evening had pushed his buttons, an extremely stupid thing for any submissive to do to her Dom unless she was asking for his attention.  But she’d had a truly crappy day.

For Regan, a spanking had an oddly calming effect on her that often lingered for days,
plus she loved the aftercare.  She often antagonized him to get the spanking she knew she needed.  As a college educated woman, this seemed counterintuitive.  Why not just ask for a spanking or go straight to the aftercare?  She had tried to research the psychology behind her need for discipline but had never come up with a convincing theory.  She’d had a happy childhood with loving parents, no abuse, neglect or even any drama.  When she’d asked her experienced Dom about it, he’d said, “Everybody’s wired differently, no need to wonder why. Just buckle up and enjoy the ride.”

The Venom took a sharp curve and Regan yelped as her shifting weight caused her to wiggle and squirm as she searched for a more accommodating position for her blistered ass.  This caught Rick’s attention and his handsome face turned toward her briefly, assessing her fidgeting in the dark interior.  A single dark brow arched in question before he returned his attention to the road in front of them.

“Feeling a little tender, sweetness?”

“Yes Sir, but tender is putting it mildly.  I’m truly sorry for being such a brat tonight, Rick.”

“All is forgiven, Regan. You took your punishment well and we’ve put your bratty behavior behind us, yeah?” He shifted into high gear as they hit a long stretch of road.  His big hand wrapped around her thigh in a warning squeeze.  “That doesn’t mean we’re through discussing the underlying problem causing this unusually bad behavior.  We’ll continue that when we get home.”

She shifted again in her seat but obediently replied, “Yes, Sir.”

“That’s my girl.” He patted her thigh before releasing her to down shift as they turned off the main road into their subdivision.

They had just left the annual Halloween masquerade at Club Decadence.  Usually a theme party at the private BDSM club was lots of fun and filled with sensual play for the two of them.  But tonight, she had ruined an otherwise pleasant evening by being stubborn, sassy, and downright bitchy.  And she couldn’t have picked a worse night to act out; her sister Megan had gotten engaged and collared and she’d almost missed out on the celebration.   

Her behavior had irritated Rick so much that he had put her in one of the naughty sub cages while he attended an owners meeting.  That had been a real shocker.  He’d never done that before, but he’d been so frustrated with his brat that he’d yanked up her skirt then paddled her soundly over one of the spanking benches before gagging her and locking her up. The flimsy gilded cage was more symbolic than functional, but the staff monitored subs punished this way and none ever attempted to escape. Rick was in charge and she would stay where he put her.  Her ears still rang from the scolding he had given her before popping in the red rubber ball gag. 

“If I could trust you to have a civil mouth tonight,” he’d said, “then this wouldn’t be necessary.” 

Usually a public display was one of Regan’s kinks but on this night it had been anything but fun. When Rick had released her after only about thirty minutes, he had told her all was forgiven, but she didn’t forgive herself.  Filled with regret and shame, she turned her head and stared blankly out the window as they drove through their little community.

They lived in an exclusive subdivision on the outskirts of San Antonio.  The large wooded lots provided plenty of privacy, which they loved.  Rick slowed the Venom and pulled into their long tree-lined drive, pausing to enter the code on the security gates before proceeding up the drive toward their sprawling hillside home.  Because his work often required that he travel for days at a time, he made sure they were protected by a state of the art security system. 

Reagan relaxed as he came around to help her out of the low-slung vehicle. As he did, Reagan gave her husband a hug, relishing the added security his size represented. At 6’4” he towered over her, even when she was wearing heels.

It was good to be home.  Being a military brat, her family had moved from place to place, living in temporary housing and never having a place to call her own.  The security that her new home provided made her feel safe and protected, just like her husband always did.  

Although no longer in the service, he still trained daily as the demands of his post-military security career required that he keep in top physical condition.  In addition to owning The Club, he and several of his former teammates had opened a hugely successful security firm together.  They had recently scaled back on their government contracts which were usually foreign assignments and were now focusing on mostly domestic cases which kept Rick closer to home.  Running security for celebrities and politicians was a lot safer than mixing it up with the Taliban or other radical extremists overseas. Regan shivered as she thought of all the dangerous missions he had been involved in over the seventeen long years he had been in the Army Special Forces.

She squeezed him tightly, relieved that he was out of the service and the extremely dangerous work was behind him.  The Army had given him the training to be successful in the private sector now.  Plus, his years of saving, savvy investments and the success of their new businesses left Rick in exceptional financial shape.  Good thing because this was a man who liked his toys.  The six-figure price tag of the limited edition streetcar behind them was proof of that.  With his income and wise investments, Regan had the luxury of choosing whether to work or not.

“Honey, you’re shivering.  Let’s get you inside.  It’s too chilly for you out here.”

“I love you so much, Rick.”  She ignored his subtle command and squeezed him tighter, rubbed her cheek against his rock hard chest and pressed her hips against him.  “I want you to take me here, right now, on the hood of your car.”

“I know you do, honey.  But that’s not your call.”  Stroking her auburn hair away from her face he tipped her head back so he could see her.  Rick frowned down at her.  This loving, cuddly kitten was a far cry from the sassy, moody woman he had to punish earlier that night.  “Something’s going on in that brain of yours and I mean to find out what it is.”  He turned and guided her inside with a strong hand against her lower back.

“Go on upstairs and change,” he ordered in a dominant tone that was deeper than normal, huskier and very sexy. “I want you ready for bed by the time I get up there.  You’ve got fifteen minutes.”

Despite her apprehension, his tone had her quivering with delight. Regan felt the familiar wetness gathering between her thighs.  After seven years in a D/s relationship, his tone meant he had switched on his strict Dom mode and he meant business.   As Rick consulted his watch she was motivated to move faster.  He was a stickler about time and Regan recalled the many spankings doled out over the years when she’d made them late to one event or another.  She didn’t need another one tonight not on an already tender behind.

Regan was waiting anxiously in their room when he arrived fifteen minutes later, but not exactly as ordered.  She was standing by the bed in her short, pink satin robe. 

“I said ready for bed, Regan.  Lose the robe.”

“I was cold, sir.”

He turned on the remote controlled gas logs in the sitting area as he watched Regan shrug the satin robe from her shoulders and land to pool around her feet.  She stood naked in the soft light of the room, but he frowned when he saw goose bumps rise across her skin and her nipples peek from the cold.

“Kneel on the rug by the fire and get warm.  I’ll be out in a minute then we’ll talk.”

He didn’t wait to see if she complied; her obedience was expected in the bedroom without question.  He came out of the bathroom minutes later, bare-chested and still in his club leathers now open at the waist.  He looked approvingly at the beautiful submissive kneeling on the plush rug by the fire.

Her kneeling position was perfect - head up, eyes lowered, knees spread shoulder width apart, with her luscious bare ass resting on her feet.  Her hands were resting on her thighs, palms up and open in supplication as he’d trained her.  She peeked at him from beneath her lashes and smiled when she saw his open fly was barely able to contain his impressive length.  After all these years, she knew he wanted her just as much as the first time.

He sat in a wing-backed chair by the fire and ordered, “Come here.”  He patted his thighs, indicating he wanted her on his lap.  Regan gracefully dropped to all fours and crawled across the floor, stopping at his feet.  She knew how to fuel the Dom inside him.  When she moved between his legs, she rubbed against him as she rose and climbed onto his lap.  Head bowed dutifully, she cuddled up to him, brushing her naked breasts against his muscular chest as she leaned into him.  Her lips twitched in a hint of a smile as her thigh brushed against his hard cock.

“Naughty girl,’ he chastised her gently. “Teasing your husband when he’s planning a serious discussion will get your ass spanked for sure.”

“Sorry, Sir.”  He groaned as her small hands rose to rest against his chest, her thumbs grazing his nipples.

“Liar.” He chuckled and adjusted her position on his lap away from his throbbing erection. “Now, I want you to talk to me, honey.  What’s up with you lately?”

Her mouth opened to deny his accusation, but he interrupted her before she made a sound, accurately predicting her intention to put him off.

“Do not play games with me, Regan.”  There was a hint of anger and a whole lot of frustration in his voice.  “Nothings, eye rolls and shrugs are unacceptable answers as always and will get you a repeat of what I gave you earlier this evening, this time with something worse than a paddle.  I want to know why you have been acting so sad and out of sorts lately.”  He captured her chin between his thumb and forefinger and made her look at him urging, “Let me help you.”

Regan could see the concern in his beautiful green eyes and tears gathered.  She loved him so much and was convinced he deserved better.   Her eyes searched his, she just couldn’t tell him. Even though he knew he’d stand by her because that was the kind of man he was.

“Regan, what is it?  I can tell something is bothering you.”  She’d never be a poker player that’s for sure.  All her emotions were written clearly across her face.  Rick released her chin and slid his hand into the hair at her nape, anchoring her head in place as she tried to turn into him, hiding her tears.  “Talk to me.”

She didn’t know what to do.   Her suspicions had just been confirmed that afternoon.  She needed more time to think, so she did what she felt was necessary.  She lied.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”  She rushed to reassure him when he produced a low growl. “Please, Rick.  Really, I think I’m depressed.”  Well, that last part wasn’t actually a lie.  She’d known something was wrong for a while now and had begun to feel sad and hopeless, even before she found out for sure.  She brushed the tears away with her fingers as she fabricated what she hoped would be a plausible excuse. “My mom was the same way at my age.  She suffered from depression when Meg and I were in middle school.  I think maybe I need to call
her.”