Obsession (18 page)

“Open your eyes and tell me you want it.”
He growled. Wincing, she opened her eyes and met his. They were deep pools of burning darkness, stripping her to the bone, and she swallowed.

“I...I want...” She faltered. She didn’t want it. She just didn’t want the other option more.

“Tell me you want it.” His voice was rumbling, low in the bass register, and it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

“I want it.” She whispered.

“Say it again. Properly.”

“Please
Master, I want you to spank me.” Her cheeks were scarlet but he finally nodded, wickedness touching his features.

“I told you I would make you beg for it.” He shifted in the seat to put more room between himself and the door. “No time like the present kitten.
Panties down, skirt to the waist and lie over my knees.”

“Now?!”
Panic spiked and she fought to stop herself hyperventilating.

“Yes kitten, now.”

Oh hell...
I can do this
. She thought feverishly.
Just like going to the doctor...one sting and it would be over
. With shaking hands, she pushed herself off him to kneel on the floor and undid her garter belt. When the straps were loose, she hesitantly pulled her briefs down to her knees and knelt there trembling.

“Skirt up.” He said quietly, mesmerised by the play of emotions on her face. She gathered the silk fabric in her hands, her knuckles white around the bunched material.
“Come here.” Feeling light-headed, she angled across his lap, so her bare arse was on his knees, and flinched when his hand caressed it gently. “The key to this is in the preparation.” He said soothingly, as though calming a frightened animal. “It won’t hurt. You can be taught to love it. To
want
it.” There was no way getting spanked wouldn’t hurt. She’d received enough wallops from her parents as a child to know it stung like hell. He spent a few minutes just circling and massaging, before letting his hand dip between her legs. “What made you wet kitten?”

“I don’t know.” She murmured. She’d felt something spreading low and hot in her belly at his
explanation of what he was going to do to her, but she didn’t know if it was the scandalous words themselves or the meaning of them. As he dipped a finger inside her and then circled her clit, her back arched involuntarily. His other hand continued to massage her backside as he teased and played her until she was moaning softly, fear forgotten in a haze of need.

He began lightly patting her skin, increasing the pressure as he distracted her with the hand between her legs. Drawing it out so there was more of a gap between slaps, he shifted beneath her. He was rock hard.
Uncomfortably hard. The sight of her bare arse bent over his knee for a spanking was too much. He prepared her as much as he could before he felt the walls of her pussy begin to contract with an impending orgasm, and then he raised his hand and spanked her. Hard. She squealed, more out of surprise than pain, and the sight of a beautiful red handprint, square in the middle of her cheek, tipped him over the edge. In one smooth move, he released his cock, scooped an arm under her to swing her upright and impaled her on his length.

“Oh!” She gasped and he actually snorted. She sounded so surprised. He couldn’t seem to get in deep enough to
assuage his need and he rolled them forward onto the floor, so he could slam into her doggy-style for the second time that night.

“Don’t you dare
come.” He ordered fiercely, grabbing her hips to hold her steady as he pounded away. She was too shocked to argue and just threw her effort into staying upright. The last thing she needed was a carpet burn on her chin. It was fast, hard and furious and finally he came with a guttural moan, resting forwards with his hands on either side of hers so she wasn’t bearing his whole weight.

“Fuck.” He breathed, trying to catch his breath. “Kitten, you drive me
wild.”

“Yeah, I’m starting to understand that.” She sounded dazed and he laughed, pushing himself upright to admire his handiwork. The hand print was fading
, but he still caressed it proudly. It looked spectacular.

The car went around a corner and they both had to catch themselves on the seat. It broke the moment for Noelle as she suddenly came back to where she was and what they were doing. He could hear her muttering quietly to herself, obviously distressed at what they’d just done with the driver as
an audience. He felt her muscles tense to lean forwards, to pull away from him, and he grabbed her hips again.

“Don’t you
dare.” He said fiercely. Still inside her and getting semi-hard again, he pulled them back up onto the seat and curled his hand into her lap, spreading her thighs so that her legs were dangling on the outside of his. “Are you close to coming kitten?” He asked softly, kissing the top of her shoulder as she leaned against him.

“I was. Not so much now.” Not now that she’d remembered where she was.
That poor driver. God knows that he must think of her.

“Good.” His hand slid up the inside of her thigh and gentle fingers caressed her clit.

“Gabriel don’t!” She squirmed helplessly in pleasure and then stilled as his teeth fixed on her neck. Immediately she understood her error. They were still in play room mode. “I’m sorry master.” She whispered. “Please...can we wait until we get home?”

He released her neck without leaving a mark. “No.” His free hand caressed the curve of her breast beneath the silk and
she pressed helplessly into his hand, her pelvis involuntarily curving down to take his cock deeper as her back arched. She made a soft keening noise in the back of her throat and he grinned ferociously. Yes. She would beg.

In the last ten minutes of the drive, he took her to the edge of orgasm twice and then backed off, leaving her snarling and frustrated and full of cock she could do nothing with. By the time they came to a stop outside the house, she was so hot and sticky that peeling her legs off his leather trousers to stand up sounded like ripping off hot wax. At least he had pulled out of her
though, she thanked the stars as the icy breeze cooled some of her fervour. Now that she was outside, taking in great lungfuls of fresh air, she could start to think clearly again.

“What are you doing?” He asked and she almost flinched.

“Just trying to get my balance. I’m a little wobbly.”
How the mighty have fallen
. She thought drily.
See how glibly I lie
... What she was trying to do was calm down. She had a horrible feeling that she knew exactly what the rest of the night was going to be about. The damnation of it was that it wasn’t hurting her, it wasn’t pushing any boundaries. It was hard to safe-word on something that amounted to teasing. She’d have to let him push her past begging before he did anything she felt she could justifiably safe-word over, but that would mean asking for something she didn’t think she could bring herself to ask for. Punishment indeed. It was going to be a long night.

“Here, let me.” Unwilling to let her stand in the cold and compose
herself, he handed her the coat and sweater and scooped her right off her feet into his arms.

“I can walk!” She protested, but he quelled her with a dangerous glare and she subsided into obedience. Getting through the
front door was a little awkward but, once they’d kicked it closed behind them, he took her straight through to the play room and set her gently to her feet.
If he said stay like she was a dog, she was walking out
...She thought mutinously. As though sensing her mood, he just walked away towards the drawers. Sighing inwardly, she rubbed her arms. It wasn’t particularly warm in the gym and she was about to get naked. At least he’d warm her up pretty quickly. She was certain of that.

She watched as he returned with a bag full of stuff that he hooked onto the ballet bar for easy access. She could guess at least some of what was in it
, and her insides roiled with a mix of shame and morbid anticipation. He returned to the drawers for a coil of rope and hung that on the end of the bar nearest to where she was standing.

Finally his attention returned to her and the surface of her stomach quivered with the promise that laced that look. Silently he knelt at her feet and unhooked the clip that was holding the leather in place. She wanted to touch his
hair, but the mood of this was all different. It wasn’t sweet, like the ritual of dressing her had been. There was still reverence in his touch, but no sweetness, just hunger. Her hands remained held out to the sides.

Loop by loop
, he freed her body from the confines of the corset and she breathed deeply, realising for the first time how constricted she had been.  When the last band fell away, he took his time to reel it up and lay it neatly on the horse. Without having to be asked, she raised her arms over her head and he lifted away the silk. Her skin was creased beneath it, where the leather had pressed the wrinkled silk to her body. It was almost disturbing to look at, but he didn’t comment.

He stripped her lingerie but, as promised, left
her in the boots and mask, her hair still piled up in curls. Without speaking, he crossed her arms across her stomach and began an intricate knotting process with the rope, that trussed her up just as securely as the corset had. Once he had tested the loops and knots with an experienced finger, he led her to the ballet bar and raised it. “Bend over.” He commanded softly, and she did, bending at the waist so she was below the bar. She couldn’t see what he was doing in the mirror without straining her neck, but when her torso jerked upwards she realised he’d suspended her from the bar. Her feet were still on the ground, but she could relax her body weight into the ropes to ease the pressure on her back. That was a relief.

She heard rustling as he pulled the bag towards them and rummaged in it. “You look beautiful.” He remarked,
setting something cold down on her back. “It’s a shame you’ve been such a bad girl. I could very easily get lost in you, kitten. Instead I have to punish you.”

“You could forgive me and not punish me?” She suggested hopefully and he laughed, sounding delighted.

“No, kitten. But, if you’re comfortable, we’ll do this position again in the future.” It was comfortable. She resisted the urge to push off with her feet and just swing gently backwards and forwards. Somehow she didn’t think he’d find it funny.

“I’d like that.” She said softly
instead.

“Good.” Done setting his things out, he slid his hand between her thighs and ran gentle fingers through her folds. “Spread your legs kitten.” He murmured huskily and she complied, trying not to fall apart from pleasure. His thumb slid easily into her
, while he massaged her clit and brought her to the edge again. When he backed off, she gritted her teeth to stop the howl of frustration. It was infuriating that he knew her body well enough now to know when to stop, without her having to tell him. For a couple of seconds, as her ardour died down, he did nothing, but then he slid his cock into her and just held her still.

She felt her eyes pricking with tears. He was so hard...she felt so full. It wasn’t fair. She didn’t have enough momentum to
move, so she just had to hang there and endure. Hands smoothed across her backside before spreading the cheeks and she gasped as something cold and wet landed right between them.

“Steady kitten. It’s just the lube.” She felt him smearing it over his fingers and then his thumb was pressing at her opening. She jerked as it slid in, unable to admit to herself that it felt good. He worked her for several minutes before she was relaxed enough to fit the big plug in.
She moaned and whimpered, struggling against the ropes as he slowly pushed it in, careful not to hurt her.

“It’s too much!” Her breathing was ragged and he grinned, feeling her begin to tighten around him.

“No, it’s exactly right.” He slid it home, grabbed her hips and thrust his cock viciously into her...once, twice, three times, until she had crashed right up to the edge of orgasm, and then he pulled out and just walked away.

She heard the door close behind him and this time she did scream with rage and frustration.
This was ridiculous. All she’d done was clean herself. In that moment she actually hated him.

When the music started
, she almost laughed. It wasn’t classical; it was his own CD. She was surrounded by his voice, pulsing at her from every corner of the room. Now that she’d seen him in action, it produced a physical reaction in her. The raw, husky sound of his voice was the aural equivalent of swallowing an aphrodisiac. She shook her head with resignation and relaxed into the ropes. Bastard.

When he returned
ten minutes later, she was miserably contemplating the floor. He came round to stand in front of her and she knew he’d had a shower. He smelled fresh and his leather trousers had been replaced with jeans.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, amusement dancing in his throat.

“I hate you.” She said sourly. “Master.” She added then, as an afterthought, and he burst out laughing.

“No you don’t
, kitten.” Still laughing, he moved around behind her to tease her once again to the edge of climax and then walked away, leaving her swearing at him.