Bared to Him Page 3

  When he rolled up his sleeves, she looked back at him. He sat. “Across my lap, sub, if you please.”

  The sight of his tanned and strong forearms sent a shiver of trepidation down her spine. What the hell had she got herself into? It was one thing to read about this, another to be here, in public, disgraced.

  “And you’ll lift your skirt so your buttocks are completely exposed.”

  She wanted the floor to swallow her whole. Her heart slammed viciously against her ribs. She’d already learnt that he didn’t joke. But how could he expect her to expose her bottom in the bar? Over the half hour they’d been together, almost every table had been filled. Some couples were dressed in business wear, others in club attire, but none of the subs had been chastised. Besides, she was new to this. Shouldn’t that count for something? “I’m trying my best to understand how this all works. I promise to be good, Sir.” She offered a tentative smile, hoping to mitigate the determination he radiated.

  Implacably, he said, “Safe word out or get your ass across my lap.”

  She was still kneeling, and so she saw the firm set of his jaw. She thought for a few seconds. She could get out of this, but then she’d never know what she was missing. More than anything, she wanted this experience, even if she had to endure the ridiculousness of a spanking.

  He pulled on her leash. Mortified, she gritted her teeth. But she submitted to his will. Within seconds, she was across his lap like the errant novice she was.

  She would have preferred a different position, but he had placed her deliberately, her butt facing the aisle, so that anyone who wanted to see her could. Thankfully that meant the table more or less shielded her face.

  “The skirt,” he reminded her.

  “Yes, Sir.” It would have been easier for her if he just rolled it up. But this man didn’t allow her to hide.

  He didn’t help her as she reached back. She squirmed and wriggled. The tight skirt had been selected to turn him on, but it wasn’t easy to pull it up, especially in this position.

  “Nice,” he said, when the material was around her waist.

  She’d chosen a garter belt and sheer stockings, and a thin, lacy black thong. The thong, skimpy as it was, would help preserve some modesty.

  For a full thirty seconds, he didn’t move and didn’t speak. She just stayed there, exposed, eyes closed, wishing the punishment was complete.

  “How many spanks do you deserve?”

  Over the past few days, she’d done a fair amount of reading, fiction and nonfiction, and she’d devoured everything he’d sent her. She figured the correct answer was either six or eight, but she’d never been spanked before, and she was afraid to receive even two. “Six, Sir.” Since she couldn’t see him, she couldn’t tell whether her answer pleased him or not.

  “Ask for your punishment, Myka.”

  Did his sadism know no bounds? “Please spank me, Sir.”

  “Count after each strike. And I suggest you remember your manners.”

  He rubbed her buttocks gently. She began to relax under his tender touch, and her breathing evened. She felt the first stirrings of pleasure, but it remained just out of reach. If this continued, it wouldn’t be all bad. It seemed his ministrations were linked to her clit. She sighed, almost forgetting she was bare in front of the club’s patrons.

  Moments later, he massaged her flesh faster, and with more pressure. This wasn’t pleasure. She clenched her hands.

  Before she was prepared, he struck her buttocks with his open hand.

  She yelped and tried to stand. “Christ! That hurt.”

  “The correct response is, ‘One, thank you, Sir’,” he said as he forced her back into position.

  “I…”

  “Would you like to begin again?”

  She ceased her struggles. Now that the instant searing pain had dissipated, a strange pleasure had replaced the hurt. She sucked in a deep steadying breath. “One. Thank you, Sir.”

  “This can take as long as you dictate, Myka. We can get it over quickly, or you can fuss and drag it on.”

  “I’m ready, Sir.”

  “Good girl.”

  He caught her under her right buttock. She winced but quickly said, “Thank you, Sir. Two.”

  The third was placed on her left buttock. She clenched her hands, and her fingernails dug into her palms. She counted, and remembered her manners.

  By the fourth, she’d found a rhythm. She grabbed hold of the chair legs for balance, and she stopped fighting against him.

  The fifth strike, on top of two previous ones, made her scream. She kicked her legs, no longer caring who was watching. This was complete physical and emotional overload. Nothing she’d read or fantasised about had prepared her for this… He was uncompromisingly harsh.

  He moved their positions slightly so that he trapped her legs between his much stronger ones. With her legs imprisoned and one of his hands on her back forcing her upper body towards the floor, she was completely confined.

  “We’ll repeat that one,” he said. “Or use your safe word to stop this at any time.”

  He waited.

  Fuck you. Sir. She refused to lose this battle, refused to be sent home. “I’m ready for you to continue, Sir.”

  With blazing ferocity, he repeated the fifth spank. “Thank you, Sir.” Tears stung her eyes. “Five.”

  “Much better,” he said as he stroked a hand down the backs of her thighs. “You’re pleasing me.”

  His touch and soothing voice calmed her. She exhaled and relaxed as much as she could.

  Although the sixth seared as badly as the others, she surrendered to it instead of fighting him and herself. “Six, thank you, Sir.”

  “You may kneel, with your skirt still up.”

  He helped her into position. It was a good thing, because she wasn’t sure she could move on her own. His attentions had overwhelmed her, more from an emotional standpoint than from a physical one.

  He left her in place for what seemed like an eternity while he turned his back to her and situated his bag, fastening all the metal closures. Others who had shown a momentary interest in her punishment—more because she’d screamed than anything else—had returned to their conversations. She looked down at the floor and schooled her breathing. As she remained silently in place, she had several realisations. She was intrigued by BDSM to want to experiment a bit. But this was his lifestyle, not a game. Her breach of protocol was a serious offence. If she wanted to have a scene with him, she needed to honour his rules.

  She knelt quietly with her thoughts, and she no longer felt embarrassment. No one paid any attention to her. No one except her temporary Dom.

  He came around in front of her, crouched, captured her chin with his thumb and forefinger, and tipped her head back slightly.

  “Look at me,” he said quietly.

  She did.

  His jaw was no longer set in a frightening line. His brows were relaxed. His touch was firm, but somehow reassuring. With his free hand, he swept strands of hair back from her face, then he used the pad of his thumb to ease away the tracks of an errant tear.

  “I’m sorry, Sir,” she whispered. And she was. The spanking had been effective in several ways. First, she’d recognised she’d been out of line. Second, there was no doubt who was in control here. He’d effortlessly established the boundaries. “And thank you for correcting my behaviour.”

  “I’m certain you learnt your lesson,” he said.

  It would stay with her for a long time, if the throbbing in her posterior was any indication. “Yes, Sir.” The title of respect was now seared into her. From her bottom to her brain.

  “Before we go to a playroom, we need to talk.”

  Talk? Was this to be a lecture? Her previous boyfriend would rant at her for hours if she committed something he considered a faux pas. In her opinion, a quick spanking was preferable to hours of verbal punishment, followed by the cold shoulder.

  Phillip certainly wasn’t apt to ignore her. In
fact, she seemed to be the centre of his attention.

  Like a proper gentleman, he offered to help her stand. She wrapped her hand around his forearm. Earlier he’d seemed imposing, but now his strength reassured her.

  He held onto her for a moment while she found her footing. It took longer than it should have. Her muscles felt as if they’d been liquefied. And the heels were considerably taller than anything she’d worn before.

  “Fix your skirt.”

  She frowned, a bit puzzled by his behaviour.

  He pulled back her chair and held it while she sat. He signalled to Jilly and she came over with a bottle of water. Myka wondered whether the woman was a bartender or mind reader.

  After Myka had taken a few sips, he said, “Tell me why you were punished.”

  Was this the lecture part? She knew better than to ask if they had to have the conversation. “I didn’t kneel immediately, Sir.” She was tempted to look away, but her butt cheeks burned with the stinging reminder of his lessons. “And, Sir, I didn’t address you with the respect I should accord you.”

  He nodded. “Before we proceed, Myka, I need to know what you’re thinking.”

  “Thinking, Sir?” She shifted her weight, trying to find a comfortable position. “Honestly, I’m a bit confused. I thought we were going to the playroom. I don’t know why I’m sitting across from you instead of kneeling, and I’m not sure why you told me to fix my skirt, Sir.” She was aware of his collar and the solid weight of the attached leash.

  “I invited you to sit to restore some of the equality between us. Your punishment was mild compared to most I administer.”

  Mild?

  “I want you to tell me what you’re feeling,” he continued.

  “A little humility,” she admitted. She toyed with the water bottle. “I recognise that I messed up. I wasn’t treating this evening with respect. I was playing stupid games like I always do with men. It was wrong. Until you held me accountable, I didn’t know I was doing it. I’m glad you didn’t let me off the hook.”

  “You’re new to this,” he said. “That may have been too much.”

  “Sir?” She gripped the bottle tighter.

  “In the elevator, on the phone, through email, I offered you a taste of BDSM, an opportunity to learn about surrender and have your pussy spanked.”

  “I still want that, Sir.”

  “Do you? Or do you just want a fantastic orgasm and to go back to your regular life?”

  “I like the honesty of this, Sir.”

  “Go on.”

  With his direct gaze, he unnerved her. “I’ve never had a man who is so in tune with me, who is so real about who he is and what he expects, and what he is offering in return. I can’t say I enjoyed the spanking, Sir, but I deserved it. I’m glad you did it.”

  “I am who I am, Myka. I can mitigate my temperament only so much.”

  “You gave me the opportunity several times to use my safe word.” She took a breath, blinked, then fearlessly met his gaze. “I don’t want you to send me away. Please. Give me another chance, Sir.”

  “If you have questions about the rules, ask them, but do so with respect.”

  She nodded. “I understand, Sir.”

  “I will assume so unless you say otherwise. You will be held accountable for every action. I expect my orders to be obeyed instantly. If you are having trouble with anything I say, speak up immediately.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “I will permit no pretence. No artifice. No hiding, from me, or yourself. I will lay bare all your secrets, Myka.”

  She shivered. She’d never been this exposed before. And they were just getting started.

  Chapter Four

  He’d told her he’d permit no artifice, but the truth was, she was more open than any woman he’d played with recently. Daniella was a professional sub, paid to make sure he had the experience he craved. If she behaved like a brat, it was because he wanted her to so that he could administer a punishment flogging. Otherwise, she complied with his wishes, often anticipating his needs before he did. Some women went along with his kink because he was into it. But this woman—Myka—seemed genuinely interested in the experience and in him. To her it wasn’t about who he was or how much money he had. She was refreshing.

  Myka looked at him through her tear-stained lashes. He suddenly wanted nothing more than to give her the experience she was looking for and to fuck her hard.

  Spanking her had made his cock hard. The sight of her bare buttocks turning red from his punishment was the most appealing thing he’d ever seen.

  He stood and gathered his belongings, shrugged back into his jacket, and then dropped his cuffs and phone in a side pocket of his bag. She kept her gaze focused on him as he wrapped her leash around his hand.

  “Sir?”

  The way she licked her lower lip made him want to see her mouth wrapped around his cock.

  He offered his hand and helped her from the chair, retaining his grip while she found her balance. “We’re going to a playroom. It’s near the back of the club, so we’ll be walking through a lot of public areas.”

  She nodded.

  “You will walk behind me. If I wind your leash tighter, it means I want you closer. Keeping a little slack will make your walk more comfortable. That will mean you need to be paying attention to me at all times.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “When we’re in the public areas, speak only when spoken to, and address everyone with the same respect you would accord me. Sub or Dom. If you’re uncertain of anything, signal that to me by gripping your leash. Any questions?”

  She shook her head. Her shoulder-length blonde hair was no longer beautifully groomed. It had become a riotous mass of tangled strands, begging for him to dig his hands in its length. Damn, he wanted her alone. Now.

  The disadvantage of having her walk behind him was that he couldn’t see the sexy sway of her hips. The advantage was that maybe his erection would ease somewhat.

  It didn’t. Just the knowledge that she was behind him, and that she wanted him to explore her naked body, was enough to keep him hard.

  As they moved through the club, he stopped twice to interact with other Doms. He didn’t introduce Myka. For the first time ever, he didn’t want to share. He told himself it was because she was new and he wanted to control the rate at which she was exposed to the scene. But the truth was something different. He didn’t want to admit the real reasons to himself, despite the fact he’d promised to excavate her innermost thoughts.

  He was battling impatience by the time they arrived at their destination. The door closed behind them, but he continued to draw her towards the centre of the room, near the spanking bench he’d requested. “Stop here.” He saw her glance at the black, vinyl-covered contraption. The top was wide enough to support her body. Knee and handholds were fully adjustable. Hooks protruded at strategic locations so that a sub could be secured in a number of different positions. The only limit was his very creative imagination.

  Her chest rose and fell rapidly. From anticipation? Or from fear?

  He placed his bag on the floor and then moved closer to her. She was forced to tip her head back in order to look at him. “I like the way you smell,” he said. He only noticed the feminine scent when scant inches separated them. He wasn’t sure if she’d dabbed on a hint of perfume, or if it was just her lotion. The heady scent wasn’t overt, in fact, it was barely a tease, but it was enough to make him want her more.

  Phillip brushed a knuckle down her cheekbone and across the top of the collar. She took in a deep breath. He traced a finger across her lips, and, without being instructed, she opened her mouth. Her instincts were perfect. Her gaze still on him, she sucked his index finger into her mouth.

  His dick had been hard since he’d pulled her across his lap and seen her exposed bottom. She drew his finger in deeper, and sucked. Hard. Jesus. He couldn’t wait for her to do that to his cock.

  He squeezed her jaw with his free hand,
making her release him. He needed to be focused and in control. He wouldn’t get distracted until he’d pleased her.

  “May I ask a question, Sir?”

  “You may.” He dropped his hand, realising he needed to put some distance between them.

  “In the reading I’ve done…”

  “Go on.”

  “Getting to suck a Dom’s cock is an honour. I saw some subs refer to cock worship.”

  Her blue eyes were wide, guileless, innocent. He couldn’t believe he was the one fortunate enough to introduce her to everything she’d been missing. She leaned slightly towards him, her body an open invitation.

  It was tempting to accept her offering, but then he’d reinforce the message that she was in control. Instead, he schooled his libido and dispassionately unclipped her leash.

  “Can I see you naked, Sir?”

  Her question surprised and delighted him. “This evening is about you, sub.”

  “And I want to see your body. I’d like to be able to touch you, if I may.”

  He moved away from her, picking up his bag as he went. He placed both items on the counter, and he kept his back to her for a few moments so she didn’t see him grip the edge.

  “Teach me, Sir. Teach me to worship your cock the way you’d like.”

  He hadn’t planned on much more with her than tonight’s introduction to submission. He’d even entertained a vague thought of introducing her to some other Doms at the club. As they’d walked to the playroom, however, he’d ignored every opportunity to do just that. He wanted to keep her for himself.

  He faced her. He hadn’t suspected this side of her existed. There was a seductive husk in her voice. She might be new to the scene, but she was a natural. She didn’t just have a passing interest in BDSM, she had a thirst for it. How could he pass up the opportunity to invite her into his world? He wanted her on her knees, one hand palming his balls, her other wrapped around his shaft. He’d cradle her head so he could dictate how deep she took him.

  Keeping the boundaries firm, he told her, “I’ll have you naked first, girl. As you said, your Dom’s cock is a privilege. I expect you to earn it.” Judging by the way she’d so eagerly drawn his finger into her mouth, the pleasure would be his. “You can remove your blouse and skirt, or I can do it for you. Your choice, Myka.”