Author: Roni Loren

She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from talking back again and got to her feet. He was right. She’d known exactly what she’d been doing. And if the roles had been reversed and a submissive had tried that with her, she wouldn’t have let it slide either. But she hadn’t expected Wyatt to take this so seriously. They liked each other, had good chemistry. Wasn’t having a little sexy fun what this was about?

But clearly she’d underestimated Wyatt in this arena. She’d expected him to throw some power around in the bedroom, act the part. But as he followed her movements with a hard gaze and a locked jaw, she realized he wasn’t putting on a show at all. He may be out of practice, but this was no role. This was who he was—the real man beneath the urbane surface.

She swallowed hard, honest fear entering the equation for the first time. Wyatt was expecting her to truly submit. For this to be real. He wanted her surrender. Her palms went damp.

And so did her panties.

She blinked, surprised at her body’s almost instant response. “I’m sorry, sir.”

He pointed at a spot on the floor. “In front of me. Now.”

She lowered her head and stepped to where he’d indicated, standing between his spread knees. She couldn’t miss the twitch in his pajama pants, his own arousal stirring. She had the ridiculous urge to fall to her knees and beg his forgiveness, to take him in her hand, her mouth, to replace that look of disappointment with one of pleasure.

What. The. Fuck?

She clenched her fists. This wasn’t how she responded to men. She had the utmost respect for both sides of the D/s dynamic, but she was not on the s side. Why was her mind trying to sink?

“Stop fighting your natural response or you’re going to earn more punishment,” he said, his tone cool but his gaze hot.

“I’m not fighting anything.”

He sighed and reached out to unfurl her clenched fists. “I hope you realize the more you try to scramble for a ledge to grab, the harder I’m going to tug.”

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, his quiet threat making it hard to be still. “This is only supposed to be training, sir. It’s not required for me to go into total surrender mode. I can’t. It’s not how I’m wired.”

His smile was slow, ominous. And she realized that instead of warning him off, she’d set a challenge in front of a man who fed on winning. Shit.

“Strip, Kelsey.”

“Sir—”

“Ten seconds to get out of those clothes or I’m yanking them off you.”

Her limbs reacted before her brain caught up, her hands grappling for the hem of her shirt. She hustled out of her garments, sparing any grace. He couldn’t make her surrender if she didn’t want to let him. Her mind was her own. But she had agreed to this training, and she wasn’t going to continue being a brat about it. Physically, she could handle whatever he wanted to mete out. And if she was honest, she was looking forward to that part. Having his hands on her earlier had been one of the most thrilling moments she could ever remember having with any man. But if he expected her to succumb to the mindfuck part of the program, he was going to be sorely disappointed. She was just getting her mind put back together. He wasn’t allowed in there.

Hopefully, her body would be enough. It always had been in her past relationships.

She bent forward and slipped out of her underwear, then straightened, standing bare before him. His eyes tracked over her from crown to foot, his perusal like hot coals rolling over her skin. She shivered, her nipples tightening and her heartbeat picking up speed. He had a way of looking at her that made everything else around her seem to fade and blur, like the only thing that existed in the world was him and his desire to have her.

His tongue swept over his bottom lip, a little tell. Like he was working hard to keep his composure and not pounce on her. She almost wished he would. That would prove she was really in control after all. But he didn’t move. “Over my knees, love.”

She closed her eyes for a second, shoring up her nerve. She could do this. Pain wasn’t her concern. She’d handled outright brutality and survived. But the spark of lightning that had gone through her at the mere suggestion of his hand on her backside had her more than a little panicked. She wasn’t supposed to like this part. “Yes, sir.”

She circled to the side of his legs, then lowered herself downward, draping herself across his lap. Before she could press her fingertips to the floor to balance herself, he captured each of her wrists and drew them behind her back, holding her in place and rendering her completely dependent on his hold not to fall. She swallowed back the anxiety that was tightening her throat.

A soft expelled breath coasted over her tailbone as Wyatt took in the view. “I could be polite and say that I won’t enjoy punishing you.” His hand caressed the curve of her ass, softly, reverently. “But you look so fucking sexy like this, I find myself hoping you’ll try to get defiant with me again.”

“I didn’t mean to be defiant, sir,” she whispered, her body beginning to thrum with anticipation. Each caress he gave her was like a dump of electricity into her bloodstream, sending every bit of her into a vibrating, needy state. Her skin began to warm beneath his hand. She found her lips moving in silent pleas. Pleading for more, for the sting of his palm. She didn’t know what to do with that foreign desire, but she was beyond the point of being able to tap it down or analyze it too deeply.

His knuckle traced her slit, the telltale moisture sliding along his skin. A soft whimper passed her lips. “Very nice, love. Now, five swats for trying to top, and ten more for talking back to me twice. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And no coming.”

“How would I come from—”

His hand came down on her with a breath-stealing blow. Her body rocked forward, the hot sting rippling over her backside and the flannel of his pants brushing her clit with wicked accuracy.

Sensation rumbled through her. And before she could suck in a breath, he spanked her again—once, twice, three times. Smack! Smack! Smack! Each time brushing her sensitive bits more roughly against his legs. Fuuuuuck. The pain and edgy pleasure twined together, and she let out a woeful, desperate moan.

“That’s right, love. Feel it all.”

His hand came down again, and her brain began to buzz. This was different. So different than what she’d experienced before. Pure. Sweet. Good. Without conscious effort, her toes pushed into the floor, lifting her ass higher for his hands. He smacked her again, right at her center. Hard. Thoughts evaporated. Like the string of a balloon slipping from a child’s fingertips, she grabbed for that last ribbon of control. But it was too late.

It was already gone.

She was already gone.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Wyatt recognized the exact moment Kelsey slid under. Her body softened against his legs, the tension in her muscles melting into liquid warmth. His. Completely. The sight knocked him right off his rhythm. His cock throbbed against the fly of his pants as he lifted his hand and brought it down on the lower curve of Kelsey’s ass. Her smooth, golden skin had gone the prettiest shade of fiery pink. He had the urge to lean down and lick the stinging marks he was leaving, to feel the heat of her against his tongue. And God, her scent. Sexy and spicy and sweet.

He nudged her thighs open a bit wider, exposing the swollen lips of her pussy and the shiny moisture glistening there. Despite her resistance to get to this point, her body was obviously on board. And his was about to explode from the vision of her gorgeous surrender. He pushed the hand he had holding her wrists more firmly against her back and then slid two fingers from his free hand inside her, stroking her in a spot he knew would test her ability to hold off orgasm.

She jolted in his hold, the hot, wet clasp of her sex clamping down around him and nearly making him groan aloud. He wanted to be inside her so badly, to feel her around his cock again. But he didn’t keep condoms down here, and there was no way he was walking away from her for even a second. Not when he’d managed to push her into the yielding state she’d made clear she had no intention of getting to.

He stroked her inner wall again, slow and steady, determined to drag her even deeper into her body, her responses. No escape. No separating her psyche from the fact that he was the one making her feel this way. She huffed breaths as she fought her way through the need to come. “Wyatt, please . . .”

“Shh,” he said, the soft begging making him even harder. He loved that he could bring her to this desperate point, to make such a strong woman plead, that she trusted him enough—whether consciously or unconsciously—to let him see her this way. “You have five more swats left, love.”

He slipped his fingers from inside her, earning him another soft whimper, then took his time delivering the rest of the blows. A nicer man would’ve made quick work of it, would’ve let her off the hook. But he was enjoying her too much. Even when he’d been deep in the scene in college, spanking hadn’t been a particular fetish of his, but he could see it quickly becoming one with Kelsey. He could imagine himself spending hours bringing Kelsey to the brink and back, reveling in those sounds and quivers she made.

He put his strength into the last blow, the power of it rocking her roughly against his lap. Kelsey cried out but it was all gritty desperation now, not pain. She was way past that point, writhing against his legs, seeking the last little bit of stimulation that would send her over. But this was punishment after all, and he wasn’t going to grant her what she wanted quite yet.

He released her arms, being sure to keep her steady, and eased her to her knees on the floor in front of him. She let out a soft mewl of protest but kept her gaze downward, her blonde hair damp and framing her flushed cheeks. Beautiful. Perfect.

“Look at me, Kelsey.”

She raised her face to him, those blue eyes soft and yielding. Eager.

He tucked his hand inside his pajama pants, taking his now-aching cock in his palm. “You see what you do to me. How much I love having you under my hand?”

“Yes, sir,” she whispered as she watched his hand with rapt attention. He pulled his cock free of his pants and stroked upward. The tip of her tongue touched her lips.

“I was going to fuck you again tonight. Was going to bring you to my bed, take my time, and taste every sweet bit of you.”

A pained look crossed her face.

“But you tried to push the issue. To control how things went down. And so now instead of tonight being about me pleasuring you, you will please me instead.”

She nodded. “I understand. I want to please you, sir.”

He rubbed the bead of moisture along the crest of his dick, watching her watch him. She wanted this. Either the submissive in her had kicked into full stride, and the thought of pleasuring him would please her. Or the defiant part of her knew that the best way to get the upper hand on a male dominant was to bring him past the brink of his self-control—and her mouth around his cock would be a surefire way to get there.

Either way, he was one step ahead of her. She just didn’t know it yet.

He spread his thighs wide, clasping his fingers around the base of his cock. “Take me in your mouth, love. Show me how much you yearn to please.”

Kelsey’s lips twitched at the corners, a secret smile. Oh, yeah, the effect of the spanking was fading and she was looking for a way to grab the wheel again. She scooted forward on her knees and with the litheness of a cat, lowered herself to his lap, wrapping her lips around the head of his cock and sliding down, down, down. Slow. Past the point where most women stopped. He felt the tip of him tap the back of her throat.

He didn’t hold back the strangled groan that welled up in him. “Fuck, that’s good.”

She lifted her gaze, locking with his, as she slowly dragged her lips and tongue upward, caressing him in the hottest, wettest, sensual slide. His feet arched—actually fucking arched—with the sensation of it all. He laced a hand in her hair, gripping the side of her skull as she continued her expertly crafted assault. And that’s what it was, a full frontal assault on his willpower.