Chapter 4 #3
After several minutes, he took the wine from her hand, leading her toward the dance floor. In truth, this would allow him an even better opportunity to scan the crowd.
She placed her arms around his neck in a perfunctory manner, still stiff. Still people watching.
“You must have clubs of this nature in the United States.”
“Thousands, but as I mentioned, not the kind of club I frequent.”
“And what are you afraid of?” he asked as he slid his hands down to the small of her back. Just having her in his arms seemed right, fitting at this moment in his life.
Chuckling, she finally paid attention to the man she was dancing with. “Nothing. Everything. Letting go.”
“Honesty.”
“I have no reason to lie.” Her words were stilted. “Collars and leashes. Is that all men want?”
“Do you think that’s all I want?” Wrath asked quietly.
She shrugged slightly as she looked from right to left, concentrating on everything she was seeing. “I honestly don’t know.”
“Then I guess you’ll have to trust me.”
“Yes, I guess I will.” Ashley clung to him, even resting her head on his chest. “And what if I ask?”
A sheer line of adrenaline rushed through every muscle, excitement igniting the embers that had remained burning since their tryst. “Then I’ll release the woman from her cage.
” The way she processed his words was telling.
She was ready to let down her guard, share with him something he considered special. “Ask…”
Ashley fisted his jacket, pulling away as she looked toward the floor. “I admit, I’m afraid as well as ashamed.”
“Why are you ashamed?”
“Because this isn’t me.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.”
She waited, her body now moving in a perfunctory manner. Only when the song ended did she finally shake her head. “I’m asking.”
He lifted her chin. “Say the words. Ask for exactly what you want.”
“I want…” Exhaling, she tried to get out of his grasp.
“No.” Wrath yanked her back, refusing to allow her to go anywhere. “I need to hear you.”
After darting a glance at the upper floor, her breathing ragged, she nodded. “Will you spank me?”
There’d been many women he’d spanked over the years, some fighting him every step of the way. This was entirely different, the rosebud finally opening. “Come with me.”
Every part of his being was on fire, the embers remaining ignited from the night before, but this was a new level.
The room was exactly what he’d requested, the simple ‘X’ cross and spanking bench a mere taste of what could occur in the future.
He caught himself with the thought, realizing that there wasn’t going to be a next time.
This was merely a glorious end to a very satisfying moment in time.
What impressed him the most was the wooden chair, the hole in the middle of the seat a perfect fit for the Hitachi vibrator.
“What do you see?” he asked as he watched her move from one apparatus to the other, brushing the tips of her fingers across the smooth wood on the cross and bench.
“Pain.”
“As I mentioned, with pain there is pleasure, at least for the majority.”
She held her breath as she stood in front of the cross. “And again, I’m not the majority.”
“You are right. You are extraordinary.”
Her attention was drawn to the other corner of the room. She stopped short in front of the chair, dragging her tongue across her lips.
“Only if you’re a good girl. Undress,” Wrath commanded as he walked toward the ornate cabinet, anticipating an array of implements to choose from.
Hearing nothing, he snapped his head in her direction.
“What did I tell you before? Any hesitation will mean your discipline is much more severe. Is that what you want, to push me, challenge me in every manner?”
“No, sir.” Her entire face was shimmering in the dim lighting, excitement building.
Wrath nearly lost his concentration, his hunger off the charts, but this was about so much more than just simple fucking.
“Then undress. I will not ask you again.” He heard the noise as she dropped her shoes on the floor, knew that she was sliding out of her dress.
His choice was a leather tawse and a birch cane, two of his favorites.
They would not only provide a solid punishment but provide a moment of ecstasy as well.
His balls tightened at the thought. He would give her the ultimate kind of pleasure, her entire being craving what only he could provide.
When he finally turned around, she’d obeyed, her face more serene than he would have imagined.
She was stunning. “Then we begin.” He guided her toward the cross, easing her quivering body against the thick wood.
She positioned her body without being told, raising her hands over her head.
After securing her wrists, he rubbed his fingers down each arm, reveling in the goosebumps popping along her naked skin. “Too tight?”
“No.” She shuddered, her mouth pursing as she clenched her fists.
He slid the tip of his index finger down her spine to the cleft in her ass, moving ever so slowly down her right leg.
Surprised he was so electrified, he took several deep breaths before fastening the thick leather bands around her ankles.
He stood back, admiring his prize before moving to the side, allowing her to see him. “This is going to hurt.”
“I know,” she half whispered. While there was nothing frail about this woman, she seemed even more vulnerable, trusting him implicitly. He would not betray her trust.
The tawse felt light in his hands and he rubbed the thin leather ends, marveling in the sensations rocketing through him.
There was always a calm that occurred when he held an implement in his hand, as if he’d been born into the concept of control.
A woman submitting to him was special indeed, no matter the consequences.
Taking a step back, he swung the tawse in the air, allowing his wrist to crack. He adored the sound and the feel in his hand.
She gave a strangled moan, the sound clipped but full of apprehension.
“Twenty,” he said with no reservation, issuing the first strike.
“Fuck!” Her entire body tensed, the exclamation filtering into the dense air.
He snapped his wrist again, making certain the strike was in the exact position he desired. The instant warm blush on her bottom nearly drove him to rip her away from the cross, fucking her like a wild beast. He took another deep breath before continuing, striking her bottom several times.
Her entire body seemed to be on fire, jerking every time the tawse was slapped against her skin. Moans turned into whimpers, laced with the most sublime guttural purrs.
Wrath closed the distance, rubbing his fingers across both ass cheeks. “I love the marks. My marks.”
Ashley shifted, struggling to see him. While she said nothing, her eyes spoke volumes. She was excited, invigorated in a way she wasn’t accustomed to.
“Twelve more,” he managed.
“Yes. Sir.”
He realized his hand was actually shaking, something that had never occurred before.
He stared at it, as if everything about this moment was foreign.
He’d always been controlling, in life, business and in dominating a woman.
Why and how had she managed to get under his skin?
Snarling, he pushed the odd sensations aside and peppered her ass with hard spanks, cracking the strap one after the other.
He wanted her to remember this for a long time.
Maybe forever.
Although in his world, there was no such thing as forever, unless you considered death anything more than the ugliness it was.
And he wasn’t a religious man, his Catholic upbringing limited to holidays and funerals.
There certainly wasn’t any room for love or kindness, not where he’d come from, the upbringing he’d been born into.
There were some who said he and his brothers were dark princes, being groomed to take over the world, but he knew their brutal life was a dress rehearsal for spending eternity in hell.
“Oh. Oh…” Her bedraggled whimpers drew him back into cold reality. He had a woman strapped to a cross, punishing her in a manner that suggested this was the first of many.
If only he could take the chance.
When he was finished, he concentrated on her ragged breathing as he controlled his own.
Nothing seemed crystal clear any longer, especially his future.
He was unable to resist her, walking closer and inhaling her sweet scent.
He could become drunk off the fragrance of her nectar. “You did very well.”
She strained against her bindings, her fists clenching then opening several times. Her eyes followed him as he eased strands of damp hair from her face. “Thank you, sir.”
He chuckled darkly and slid the tawse straps down her back, tapping ever so lightly. “You look beautiful shackled.”
“More beautiful than your other women?”
“I already told you that I don’t bring women here.”
“And I don’t believe you. Sir.”
Exhaling, he wiggled the leather between her legs, slapping her pussy lightly. “Should I take that as continued defiance?”
“Perhaps, sir.”
He did love her spitfire personality, another attribute that kept him rock hard.
His need to dominate her was nothing less than primal, an urge that would not be denied for much longer.
He replaced the strap with the cane, flicking the slender piece of wood in the air and her eyes never left his actions.
“Is your mouth watering, sweet Ashley?”
“Perhaps.”
He didn’t waste any additional time, snapping the cane across her reddened bottom. The stripe was light, no doubt fading by the end of the night, but right now the symbol only fueled his hunger. “Fourteen more.”
She bit back several cries as he caned her, moving from side to side before cracking the cane.
He adored the whooshing sound, subtle yet powerful.
The way her body reacted, tensing then relaxing every time he issued a harsh strike left him breathless.
Why this particular round of discipline left him in awe was something he would question more than once.
When he was finished, every part of his body was on fire, jazzed to the point he’d never felt so invigorated. And dear God, he wanted her more than ever.
“How do you feel?” he asked, brushing the backs of his fingers across her bruised ass.
“Alive. So damn alive.”
He left her bound, enjoying the lovely view, taking several steps backward. Her clothes came into view, including the clutch that she’d been keeping protected all night long.
Wrath might care for the woman more than he should, but he was no fool. She was hiding more than stories from her past. The bag was heavy, far too much so to simply be holding a lipstick and perhaps a compact. A snarl formed on his lips as he unzipped and peered inside.
Well, well, it seemed the Americans had already gotten a jump on attempting to protect the influential businessman. How clever of them to send a beautiful woman and one who not only could handle herself at a Blackjack table but win with little effort. The setup had been almost perfect.
Almost.
They were mortal enemies. This was both delicious and gut-wrenching. There was after all, a half million dollars on the line.
Now…
What in the hell was he going to do with her?