Aspen

Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

LUCIAN

“M arie got Jonah from The Machinists to sign up for an auctioned FaceTime,” Jeremy explained. The group offered congrats to Marie from marketing for getting one of their more private clients to make a donation to the upcoming charity gala Quinn Music Group had planned. “Aspen, were you able to reach out to anyone new?”

My attention shifted to her, as if it hadn’t been there damn near every second since she walked into the meeting.

“I had lunch with Ash and Parker from Haunted Obsession. Parker agreed to auction a FaceTime while the rest of the guys agreed to auction a date.”

That was the second time she mentioned Ash in a meeting and despite what her dad said, it rubbed me the wrong way. Especially after Friday.

What the fuck did that mean?

Who cared if Aspen was just friends with Ash or fucked him on every surface in this building? I didn’t, I reminded myself. And a simple spanking shouldn’t change that.

My jaw clenched anyway at the image of them together—not getting the memo that I didn’t care.

“Oh, snap,” Shiloh crowed. “People are gonna spend so much money on those poor boys.”

“I sure hope so,” Jeremy said. “That’ll be more money we can donate.”

“And what are the charities this year?” Hank asked.

“Suicide prevention and music programs in schools,” Jeremy answered.

“Good. Good. Do we need to cover anything else?” When no one spoke, Hank closed his folder, marking the end of the meeting. “I guess that’s it, then. Keep up the good work, and we’ll talk at the end of the week.”

Previously, I stayed behind to review the details of the meeting with Hank. Not this time. This time, I made a beeline around the table, my eyes glued on the woman, who looked more determined than me to get out of that room.

Thankfully, Shiloh stopped her and talked long enough for me to reach them.

“One might think you’re avoiding me, Miss Quinn,” I said close to her ear after Shiloh left.

Her spine stiffened, reminding me how much I loved watching her muscles relax and soften with each impact of my hand. She slowly turned, and I braced myself for her fierce ire, but was disappointed by a blank stare instead.

“Not at all, Mr. Daire. Just busy.” Her blank stare came with a blank tone.

I scanned her face, looking for any hint of emotion she had failed to cover up.

Nothing.

Not even a flash of annoyance within her gaze.

Irritation pulled at my patience.

“Once again, you seem to be top of the class, princess.” I enunciated the nickname she hated, hoping to goad her into reacting. “Very much the teacher’s pet.”

I watched her eyes, waiting for the familiar spark of fight. She’d mastered neutral features, but her eyes gave away her true emotions.

Except this time, they didn’t. They remained placid and unmoving.

“Thank you,” she muttered, even managing a polite smile before walking away.

And I stood there dumbfounded, unable to stop her.

I hated that thank you. I hated its lack of emotions. I hated how bland and boring it sounded against the thank you she offered last week.

Fuck.

Last week’s thank you visited me in my dreams, day and night. The soft, breathy words that slipped between her full lips played on repeat this past weekend. Paired with the innocent confusion filling her gaze, it was a miracle I hadn’t run across the room for more.

Images of all the filthy things I would have done to her if I allowed myself to halt her exit had filled my head. I’d jacked off more in the past three days than when I was a teen. I’d even gone to the club in the hopes of acting out any of the scenarios, hoping to abate their consistency. However, I only made it as far as the parking lot, unable to get out when push came to shove.

I excused my inability to go in because I hadn’t wanted to play with a woman when I knew I’d be picturing another. But the truth was, being with anyone other than Aspen didn’t tempt me enough to get out of the car. I’d shoved the thought aside, unwilling to give it time to plant itself and grow into more than a whisper of doubt.

Admitting momentary defeat, I headed to my office and spent the rest of the afternoon trying to focus on work.

Thank you.

Thank you.

The bland statement played on repeat, stealing my attention.

I hadn’t realized until she faced me with an unresponsive stare how much I enjoyed our banter. Our back and forth like a tantalizing form of foreplay without expectations for more. The disappointment sank awkwardly into the void her fiery response should have been, and it became impossible to ignore how much I craved it.

Irritation coiled in my mind, making it impossible to focus.

I didn’t want the cold, frozen relationship she tried to impose on me today, but didn’t know where to begin to fix it.

Relationship. Fix it.

The words shouldn’t appear anywhere near together when it came to Aspen and me. That they did should have stopped every thought in its track. The accompanying warning flag waving somewhere in the back of my head should have made me laugh and turn away.

Yet, I couldn’t stop rolling over the possibilities that created the change. I couldn’t stop the want from pulling ahead of reason. I wanted to fight with her. I wanted the enticing back and forth.

I needed to understand.

I imagined her indifference came from fearing her reaction when I spanked her. I’d only ever seen her in complete control and assumed she’d never met anyone like me—someone to show her how amazing releasing the tight grip on the reins could be.

And, unfortunately, if she was determined to keep her distance, I wouldn’t have another opportunity, either. That thought plagued me more than any of the others, thoroughly wiping away the lingering whispers of caution.

Before I knew it, the sun went down, and I’d barely managed a handful of phone calls. I dragged my hand down my face and closed my eyes, giving them a break from the bright screen. A soft knock on my door pulled them back open.

“Come in,” I called, surprised anyone was still there so late.

The door slowly opened, revealing the last person I expected to see. I rubbed my eyes, making sure I hadn’t fallen asleep and dreamed Aspen into existence.

“Hey,” she greeted quietly. “Do you have a minute?”

“Yeah.”

She entered and shut the door behind her. I attempted a blank stare, but the pinching tension between my brows let me know I failed. She walked between the two chairs in front of my desk and stood there, looking anywhere but at me, doing something I never thought I’d see her do—fidget.

Attempting to wait her out and let her break the silence, I took my time and categorized each inch of her. From her nude high heels, up her smooth legs, over the curve of her hips, stretching the cream dress wide before dipping back in at her waist and back out over her breasts. I lingered at the hint of cleavage before moving up her slender neck, past the bold splash of red staining her lips, currently pinned under her white teeth. When I finally reached the dark waves of her hair cascading against her shoulders, she still hadn’t spoken, and my curiosity won out.

“Can I help you with something, Miss Quinn?” Despite hating the formality, I followed her lead from earlier and avoided the familiarity of using her first name. If she could be cold, then so could I. Maybe receiving the placid reactions in return would spark her back into her snapping retorts.

Her teeth released their hold on her lip, quickly followed by her tongue soothing the bite. God, what I wouldn’t give to follow the same path—to taste her.

She took one step and then another. Slow at first, until finally closing the gap to my desk with a purpose. “I had to fire someone today,” she announced.

“Oh.” The lame response was the best I could manage in my confusion.

“It was just…stressful,” she explained.

Her eyes finally met mine, and I caught a glimpse of the raw emotion usually there. Flashes of steely strength within a nervous energy. I didn’t know what to make of it, but I took the opening to test the waters—pushing her buttons for a reaction.

“Too much for the boss’s daughter?” I taunted with my usual smirk.

“No.” A thrill shot down my chest to my cock when she gave a deadpanned stare and eye roll. “You just never know how they’ll react. So, you can only do so much to try to prepare for their response. Will it be quiet, polite, aggressive, rude, or something else entirely? Will they lash out and try to blame you for not doing enough to cultivate a better employee? Will they incite doubt among the office?”

I let her words sink in, taking time to read between the lines because I knew there had to be more behind what she said. I saw it in how she rubbed her thumb and forefinger together. I heard it in her hesitation to explain something that could be seen as a weakness. I didn’t know if Aspen went to anyone when she needed to talk—but she surely never came to me. So, why now?

Then it clicked.

We never spoke about our encounters after they happened, but I had a feeling that was about to change.

“So, your inability to control the situation is what stresses you out?” I guessed.

My heart beat harder.

Calm down. You may be reaching for what you want to see .

Despite my mind trying to rationalize the situation, my chest had a mind of its own. Excited warmth pulsed through me, raising the hairs on my arms in anticipation.

Because I was right. I saw it when her eyes flashed back to mine with the same wide innocence she left with on Friday. “Maybe,” she admitted.

“You like to have control?” I asked, my voice going deeper.

Her eyes never wavered. “Maybe.”

“Or maybe you feel like you always need to be in control,” I guessed, sinking into the moment, taking control, and leading her where I hoped she wanted this to go.

She swallowed before softly confessing, “Maybe.”

I hummed and leaned back in my chair, taking my time to think over my words so I wouldn’t scare her off. Taking time to entice her into admitting what she really wanted in coming here. Her eyes tracked my fingers, sliding back and forth across my lips, before snapping to mine. Despite the lingering nerves flashing in the amber depths, she lifted her chin, attempting to cling to the control she prized so dearly.

“I want you to do it again,” she stated.

I’d been so lost in watching her that I struggled to process what she wanted. “Do what again?”

“It,” she enunciated between rapid blinks. “Like before.”

Ohhhh.

Adrenaline surged, rippling under my skin, bringing it to life. It took everything I had to bite back the twitch of victory tugging at my cheeks. Internally, I beat my chest and roared, pacing like a caged animal preparing to chase its prey. Aspen Quinn came to me. She came to me and asked me to spank her.

I couldn’t remember a single successful business acquisition ever filling me with so much excitement and thrill, like having her stand before me. I needed it to last. I craved it. So, instead of leaping from the chair like I wanted to, I decided to play with her. I wanted to hear her say the words.

“I’m sorry, Miss Quinn. I’m not quite sure what you mean when you say it .”

She sighed. “You know what I mean. The thing we did last week.”

“The interview?” I asked, full of innocence.

Her jaw clenched. “You know what I mean.”

Still, I egged her on, needing to hear her ask. “I’m afraid I don’t, Miss Quinn. Why don’t you tell me exactly what it is?”

“You’re really going to make me say it?” she ground out.

“I am.” I released some control and allowed my lips to quirk.

She worked her jaw from side to side and took a deep breath.

I held mine, watching her waver on the precipice of either giving in or turning to run. Fuck, I hope she didn’t run.

“Fine,” she barked. “I want you to spank me again.”

Oh, fuck me. I thought I was prepared, but nothing in the world could prepare me for hearing Aspen Quinn ask me to spank her. My cock—which had been twitching in my pants since she entered—grew rock hard. The animal inside roared again, louder, rattling the cage to be let free.

Patience, I reminded myself. I had a feeling that if I rushed into this, she’d back out just as fast.

“Good girl.” I held my breath, anticipating her objection to the praise. When it never came, I exhaled, releasing the tension pulling my muscles tight. I slowed my breathing, slipping into the dominant role I enjoyed.

She watched me rise from the chair. I held her gaze as I rounded the desk, soaking in her nervous energy. With each step closer, her shoulders tightened, rising closer to her ears.

I couldn’t wait to watch the slow release once we started.

Less than a foot away, I stood taller, using my size to emphasize my dominance. With her head tipped back, she held my gaze, and a delicious dip appeared between her brows.

“You know,” I started, raising my thumb to stroke the indent. “I always wondered what it would take to create the slightest wrinkle in your austere face. I spent multiple afternoons trying to incite even the smallest crease without success. Seeing it now, I must admit, it only adds to your beauty.”

The line vanished.

I laughed at her stubborn need to win, causing the small furrow to reappear.

Ready to get started, I schooled my features into a calm regard. I assumed she would fight me at some level through it all and didn’t want to waste extra energy prompting her willful attitude that would only make it worse.

“We’ll do it just like last time.” I gestured to the desk. “With you bent over.”

Her slender neck worked over a nervous swallow, and I fought the urge to press my lips to her soft skin so I could feel the movement with my mouth.

She brushed past me and placed her trembling palms on the dark wood. A gentleman would have given her space to move comfortably. I stayed put, enjoying each of her adjustments brushing against me. She needed to learn that I was no gentleman, even if I gave her what she asked for.

Turning, I admired the perfect ninety-degree angles she made at her shoulders and hips, holding as stiff as a statue. I stroked my fingertips down her spine, sending a shiver chasing after them. On the ascent, I applied more pressure, gliding until I wrapped my fingers around the back of her neck. If possible, she stiffened more when I leaned close to whisper in her ear.

“If you want me to spank you properly, then I expect you to lower yourself on the desk. Put your ass in the air for me, princess.”

She froze for a second before complying.

With another stroke down her back, I praised her. “Very good.”

I wondered if she realized how much she preened when I praised her and how much better it could be if she stopped fighting it.

Maybe she’d let me help her learn.

No. I wouldn’t be that lucky. Although maybe it was a good thing I wouldn’t be that lucky. Guiding someone through their initiation and acceptance of dominance and submission created a connection I wasn’t sure I was capable of allowing myself to feel anymore. The mere idea of that kind of trust sent a wave of heat through me, so hot that alarms blared, warning me to stop that train of thought before it went too far.

Shaking off the warmth, I focused on my hand’s descent.

This time, when I reached her ass, I kept going, stroking my palm across the lush curve before continuing down her thigh. At the hem of her skirt, I hooked my fingers and started my journey back up.

“No,” she gasped, jerking her head over her shoulder. “Not like that. Do it over the skirt. Like you did last time.”

My smirk returned, letting her know she was adorable for trying to control the situation. “Now, Miss Quinn. If you want me to spank you again, then we will do it my way.”

“What? That’s ridiculous. You didn’t do it like this last time.”

“We could always not do it at all,” I offered.

I risked pushing for more, but I was determined to get every drop of satisfaction from this moment like it would be the last; which meant pushing against her limits. Urging them further than they think possible while staying attuned to their reactions for cues of them reaching their max was what a good Dom did. I wouldn’t do it differently just because she was vanilla.

Despite her pinched lips and silence, she acquiesced, readjusting herself and facing back forward.

Thank fuck.

“If at any point you want to stop, just say so,” I explained. She nodded, but I needed to make sure she understood how important it was for her to be vocal.

“Do you understand?” I asked harder. Another nod. “I need to hear you say it, Aspen.”

“Yes, I understand.”

“Good girl.”

I continued tugging her skirt up, slowly baring firm thighs and the beginning curves of her ass. When all I found were bare cheeks with black lacy panties that slipped between the firm globes before curving over the top—framing her ass to perfection—I almost came in my pants right then and there.

I rested her skirt against the small of her back and stroked my palm along her warm flesh, marveling at the tanned skin. I dragged my other hand up her back with firm pressure, making note of each knot pulled tight along her spine. Once I returned to the small of her back, I delivered my first blow.

Last time, her clothes muffled the sharp sounds I craved. Now, the crack of my palm against her flesh rang like music to my ears. It sunk deep into my bones, filling me from the inside out. I inhaled her small whimper, sinking into the heat that flooded my veins.

I soothed the sting with small circles, soaking up the warmth blooming on her skin. “Relax for me, princess.”

“I’m trying,” she bit out. “Hence why I’m even in this position.”

“Take your time,” I encouraged. I could do this all night if she needed me to.

When her chest sank lower with an exhale, I struck again in the same spot but added two more cracks right after to the left and right. Again, I soothed, keeping my other hand pressed to her back, making note of how and when her muscles tightened and relaxed.

Another exhale. Another smack.

“Such a good girl.”

Again and again, I repeated the cycle, switching my tactics of a single spank or multiples, in the same spot or spread out, hard or soft. I always waited for the small twitches along her spine to cease, having to pause less and less before continuing. Slowly, each vertebrae relaxed. Her perfect ninety-degree angled limbs softened until her chest lay pressed to the desk. She stopped holding her breath, and her tense inhales and exhales shifted to puffs of hot air steaming along the shiny, wooden surface. Her pursed lips softened to plump curves, parted over delicate whimpers.

“You’re doing so good, princess.”

I took my time, relishing her submission, soaking it in to fuel my dominance. While she sank lower and let go, I grew harder—finding my own comfort.

Pushing the limits, I struck where the curve of her ass met her thigh, just outside of the heat of her core. She stiffened, pulling her thighs together. I rubbed the spot until her tension eased. Then I struck again, sticking to the outside curves before progressing inward with soft and hard taps. Soon, her legs squeezed together for other reasons. She shifted her feet from side to side, using her thighs to create friction where she wanted it.

Despite my desperation to know how hot and wet she was, I kept the impacts close, but never directly over her pussy. When I returned my attention to her ass, I hit harder, knowing the vibration and growing warmth seeped to her core. Her whimpers grew louder, edging into moans. Her relaxed palms curled against the wood like she was searching for something to hold on to. Sweat beaded along her brow, and her cheeks grew flushed.

It didn’t take long before she lifted to her toes, arching her back, searching for the next strike. The closer she got, the more I focused my spanks around her core—the more I delivered one hit after another without pause.

Smack. Smack. Smack, smack, smack .

Her breathy moans stopped.

Her thighs clamped shut.

“That’s it, princess,” I encouraged, nearing the edge with her. “Just a little bit more.”

Smack, smack.

Her back arched tight.

Her hands clenched, wrinkling a stack of papers in her fists.

I held my breath.

Smack.

One.

Two.

Thr—

Her lips parted, releasing the most delicious cry of pleasure I’d ever heard. It reverberated around the room, stroking along my skin, bringing it to life. The husky groan sounded just like Aspen—stubbornly released after a hard fight to hold back and keep control. It made the sound that much more intense with each fading moan slipping to whimpers.

I coaxed her through it with soft taps, bringing her back to reality. All the while, holding back the urge to rip off her panties, unfasten my pants, and bury myself inside her. Goddamn, my cock pulsed with need, pushing against my slacks, desperate for release.

Not yet. I needed to focus. Coax her through the finale in the way she needed.

Aspen’s cries faded, and her body sank into the desk.

“You’re absolutely stunning. You come so well.”

I rubbed my palm along her rosy ass, soaking up the heat, taking the time to stroke the raised flesh in the shape of my fingers, burning the image into my memory. I’d seen my handprint on many asses, but I couldn’t remember a satisfaction sweeter than seeing it on hers.

“You did amazing, princess,” I praised. “I’m so proud of you.”

I massaged my other hand along her back, keeping the connection to help bring her down from the surge of adrenaline. I waited for a sign that she was ready to get up, thinking of the best way to offer aftercare that wouldn’t send her running.

Except, it didn’t matter.

Her muscles tensed, leaving me with no time to react. She shot upright and tugged her skirt back in place.

“Aspen—”

“Thank you,” she muttered, keeping her eyes adverted, never giving me a chance to read her mood.

I stood there—hard as a rock—flabbergasted into a statue, watching her walk out before I could react.

What the fuck?

The question dominated my mind as I replayed the last thirty seconds again and again.

What the fuck?

The trill of my phone jarred me from my stupor. Ignoring the call, I bolted out of my office to the elevator sliding closed. I considered going after her—taking the stairs to beat her to her office—but I didn’t know if she was going to her office or leaving. My mind swirled, replaying the moment, and eventually, I decided to let her go. Despite not understanding what the hell happened, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to realize she needed space. I just hated the thought of her processing everything alone.

Even experienced submissives struggled with the aftereffects of coming down from impact play. For someone as stubborn and inexperienced as Aspen, I knew it would be harder.

I stood, rooted between chasing her down and going back to my office.

In the end, I turned back.

Aspen was strong, and I could talk to her tomorrow, I reasoned.

And part of me feared that if I pressed too hard now, she’d pull back completely beyond my reach.

I would talk to her tomorrow, I promised. I’d give her this reprieve and be there tomorrow. With coffee and maybe some soothing cream. Maybe she’d even let me apply it for her, and we could start again.

Usually, I didn’t care one way or another if I had a repeat performance with a woman.

But with Aspen, something inside me craved it.

I just hoped she craved it, too.