Chapter Ten
Lying in bed waiting to fall asleep, Quinn had to laugh when he thought of that night a week ago at his parents’.
The night Cheyenne had fallen into trouble.
It reminded him of a night that his brother Liam told about just after he and Jocelyn had married.
She had crossed a few lines that day, but she was trying so hard to meet the guidelines.
His brothers and housekeeper saw it long before he did.
They spent quite a bit of time at the dinner table after she had stormed off, convincing him of the error of his thinking.
The naughty spankings were something he knew Cheyenne was hoping they would grow out of one day, much like Caoimhe and Andrew had.
Only once or twice a year now, Andrew said.
An admirable goal, Quinn thought with a smile.
Caoimhe was the best behaved of any O’Connor woman.
He imagined they could get down to once a quarter for his piscín. Eventually.
The one thing he had learned about his Cheyenne was that she tried everything she could try to force him to meet her needs instead of just telling him what she wanted from him.
A spanking was the biggest problem area.
She was embarrassed to ask but not embarrassed to force the issue.
As though asking wasn’t empowerment. She saw it as a sign of weakness, and no matter how many times they discussed it, she still resisted.
“Cheyenne, baby, I’m doing all I know how to not be too hard on you, but we’ve been together for nearly two years now. Don’t you think you have a good idea of how I am? That you can ask me what you need to ask me?”
“I know, Sir, but it’s very hard to be vulnerable, even with you.”
“Maybe drop the ‘sir’ and just ask.”
“Maybe.”
The more comfortable Cheyenne grew, the more she asked of him—and the more he asked in return.
He had always loved that combination in her, the daring streak running alongside the careful precision of her work, but he had expected her to be more open about what she wanted by now. She still held back.
He responded by raising the bar, tightening expectations, and sharpening the consequences.
Each time he did, she would find her footing and seem to thrive—until she tested him again, or pushed until he pushed back.
He would need to be more consistent, more creative in how he met her.
The tension between her two selves made it difficult: the woman who reached for him in private, who needed to be held, and the professional who flinched from that same need when the lights came on.
Sometimes she still seemed caught between her two worlds.
The woman who kneeled for him and the woman who ran her own business were not always on speaking terms—he could see it in the way she’d work seven straight days wiring up a new accounting system for the Emerald Isle, then bristle when he said anything about it, then fold herself into his chest so completely that the feeling that moved through him had no name small enough to say out loud.
There were days he thought she needed him as her Dom beyond the bedroom and their occasional trips to the club—and lately, she had been making that clear.
He appreciated it. He had wanted to take things slowly, and he would still pull back if she pushed against him, but those moments had grown rare.
Josh had put it plainly: Quinn couldn’t be one man at the club and another everywhere else without it costing him something.
The mixed signals would catch up with him.
Quinn had never framed it that way before, but hearing it out loud, he recognized himself in it—the inconsistency, the way it must have read to her as unpredictable.
The thought of losing her, of being the one to ruin it, sat heavy in him. But Josh had a point. If this was who he was—if she was drawn to that part of him—then softening it indefinitely wasn’t honesty. It was just a slower kind of lie.
He felt something loosen in him at the thought of dropping that particular pretense. She didn’t always seem to know what she was responding to when he took the reins, but she responded. That much was plain. Maybe that was enough to go on for now. The rest would have to find its own level.
The thought of finally letting himself be who he was—fully, without apology—sent a current through him he hadn’t felt in some time.
Cheyenne didn’t yet see how naturally she responded when he stepped into that role, and perhaps that was fine for now.
Let it unfold. The balance was delicate, but for the first time, he felt certain he could hold it.
Quinn and Cheyenne went to the club about once a month to play.
They had busy lives, and now, even more so with the wedding planning underway.
Unless there was a particular event happening, they never went every week.
During those times he would play and explore her desires, tease open her Pandora’s Box a bit further and each time, without fail, she would need a spanking to start the night off.
Tonight they would go for a theme night of gods/goddesses.
Each Dom came complete with mischievous nymphs, naughty fairies, and whatever else the subs decided they were meant to be.
“I don’t want to be a fairy I want to be something else. Like a water nymph,” complained Cheyenne. “A fairy is so, done.”
Quinn laughed. “Quit whining. Well, I’ll tell you what. I’m going as Uranus, god of the sky, so you could wear that white see-through thing that you have. Just wear a cute, white lacey bra and panty. You can be the wispy cloud fairy in my sky.”
“Oh, that’s good. I could do that. Good to know you remember my lingerie.”
“I remember everything about you, piscín. Besides, if you were a water nymph you wouldn’t need to wear anything or at least be topless, and I’m pretty sure you’re not ready for that.
And before you think to answer in an inadvisable way, neither am I.
I can assure you I won’t ever be ready for that, piscín. ”
She grinned impishly and said, “Not very adventurous are you? Oh, well then, I’m sure a sky nymph or cloud fairy will do me just fine.” In fact, after she had put it on, she remarked in a voice full of doubt, “I’m not so sure I should wear this. It’s extremely revealing.”
“Oh, you’ll be beautiful, and you show as much in a bikini,” Quinn reassured her. “If I’m willing to share this much of you, then you can be willing to as well.”
“I guess, but it seems more risqué when I’m not swimming for some reason.”
He kissed her lips, still scrunched up in the scrutiny of her version of fetwear and encouraged her to hurry.
“We leave in twenty minutes so get a move on.”
Upon arrival, they went into their separate dressing rooms; the women taking their time catching up on the week before coming out in their attire, ready to play. Cheyenne watched Quinn stand for a moment to get her attention, and as she approached, he made a show of looking at the clock.
“Great,” she said to her companions, “I’m probably going to pay for taking so long in the dressing room.
Shoot, I wanted something to drink. Oh, well, I’ll have to wait a bit longer.
” She smiled at him as she approached, watching him draw her near, kissing her lips gently before speaking a mere breath from her lips.
“That was an awfully long time to be changing, piscín. Lean over the bar stool and hold the legs. It’s a count of ten.”
“But, Sir, it’s the only time I have to relax and chat with the girls before our men take us off somewhere.”
He kissed her again on the lips and remained just an inch from her mouth. “Now or it will be with my belt.”
“Yes, Sir, I’m moving.” She pushed her lips out in a well-practiced pout and leaned in to kiss him again, running her tongue over his lips, loving the game.
As his chest grumbled in response, she draped herself over the bar stool he had so recently vacated and felt her diaphanous cover lifted off her bottom.
She then felt Quinn caress her hips and bottom, covered by her pretty, lacy panties.
After a few more rounds of seductive massaging of her upturned globes, he hooked his thumbs into the sides of her delicate covering and drew them down to just below her pert cheeks. She drew her breath in sharply.
“Sir?”
“You can handle it, piscín.”
Quinn was not an exhibitionist, but he had no trouble baring her bottom to the world for chastisement.
She wiggled as he squeezed her proffered cheeks before expelling a little yelp when the splat of his hand on her bared ass surprised her.
He said nothing in response but continued to slap four more times in the same spot before moving to the companion cheek to repeat five stinging slaps on it. She squealed.
He rubbed a few more times to continue the burn for a moment, melting it into wanton need, and then he slid her panties back in place, fully understanding that the lace would now scratch her freshly spanked bottom.
Also, knowing that if he checked, she would be dripping with her honey.
It made him hard before the evening was very old. She did that to him.
Dropping her see-through covering back over the whole, he helped her stand up, kissing her once again, this time running his tongue over her lips to her accompanying moan. The whole event took less than five minutes from the exiting of the dressing room to chastisement completion.
“Do you want something to drink, piscín?”
Seeing she was falling into the comfort and security of seduction and submission; he wasn’t surprised when she asked for a cuddle.
He sat on the wide stool and placed her backward in his lap, putting her head on his chest. He got her a cold drink, which he slowly offered to her while she snuggled against his broad chest and waited until he was ready to play. This is perfect.