Chapter 36
Chapter Thirty-Six
Aria
She’d never meant to tell him that. After learning about how he’d first met Lottie, the thought of feeding into whatever fetish he might have for virgins had horrified her.
But now, knowing him the way she’d come to know him these past few weeks, it just didn’t make sense. Maybe she didn’t fully believe his intentions had been entirely altruistic, but she also didn’t believe he was some creep with a thing for virgins.
And if he could be honest and put his cards on the table, then didn’t she owe him the same courtesy in return?
Hopefully she wouldn’t come to regret it. But just then, swept up in his arms as he kissed the wits right out of her head, she couldn’t imagine a scenario where she’d ever regret this moment.
“I’m going to strip you,” he murmured against her lips as his fingers tugged the hem of her dress higher and higher up her thighs, over her hips. “And then I’m going to hurt you. Do you want Daddy to hurt you and then kiss it and make it all better, princess?”
Like that first time, her mind waged war with her body. Because her pussy very much wanted him to hurt her. To force her to submit and obey the way he had that night
Her brain needed a little more convincing.
“I want… I want to not have to choose,” she managed to whisper past the tightness in her throat.
“Ah.” A knowing smile curved his lips as his hands moved to her ass, cupping and kneading the soft flesh. “You want to be stripped in every sense of the word, then. That can certainly be arranged. What are your safewords, princess?”
“Yellow to pause or slow down, red to stop entirely.”
“Good girl. And you promise to use them if needed?”
“Yes…” Swallowing hard, she pushed the words she knew he wanted past her lips. Because he wanted them and despite her reservations when they’d first arrived, she wanted to give them to him. “Yes, Daddy.”
Hunger and approval flashed in his eyes. “Good girl. Stay right there, with your dress up over your bottom just like that. If you try to cover yourself, Daddy will have to punish you.”
The temptation to disobey gripped her the second he stepped away. If for no other reason than to see exactly what kind of punishments he might dream up for her.
But the desire to be his good girl, to hear him praise her as he showered her with pain and pleasure, was stronger.
So she stayed exactly where she was, straining her ears to listen as he moved around the room.
And for once, she didn’t question that desire.
Didn’t berate herself for how badly she wanted to submit.
She simply… let herself be.
Her heart lurched in her chest when something soft and silky settled over her eyes and she felt as much as heard him chuckle behind her. “Relax, princess. It’s just me.”
“Right, nothing scary about being locked in a room with a mob boss with an assortment of instruments of torture at his disposal,” she muttered as he tied the blindfold in place, robbing her entirely of her sense of sight.
“You’ve been locked in here with me before,” he reminded her. “And the way I remember it, you thoroughly enjoyed yourself.”
Because it was true, she didn’t bother to argue as he stepped away again, leaving her blind and trembling in the middle of the room.
There was something wildly disconcerting about not being able to see him as he moved around her that seemed to heighten all her other senses.
She could hear every step he took, despite how softly he walked.
Could smell the deep, smoky notes of his cologne when he passed by.
Could feel the air moving around her when he came to stand in front of her again. “My beautiful princess. Do you know what you do to me?”
“No.” Tilting her head back, she let her lips curve. “Why don’t you show me?”
“I will. But first we need to get the rest of these clothes off you.”
Again his hands were on her, slowly inching her dress up higher and higher, baring her body to him.
Even blindfolded, she swore she could feel the heat of his gaze on her, taking in the black satin and lace of the matching set she’d chosen to wear beneath her dress.
She hadn’t been sure then that they would end up in bed together tonight, but she’d wanted to be prepared.
The sharp intake of his breath told her those preparations had been well worth the effort.
“Fucking hell, Aria.” His voice was low, reverent, a disciple worshiping at the altar of her body. “You are… perfect.”
Perfect. That nebulous idea she strived for but never quite seemed to reach. Warmth spread through her chest, not just at the words but the truth she could hear ringing in every syllable. “Thanks.”
“I was going to strip you entirely, but for now I think we’ll leave the stockings in place. They are an excellent touch.”
“Yeah?” She grinned up at him. “I thought so, too.”
“I’m going to have to buy you more. Maybe make you wear nothing but the stockings and this sexy little contraption holding them up around the house.”
The thought of being so on display for him had heat pooling low in her belly. “Maybe. If you’re a good boy.”
A low growl rumbled in her ear a moment before his hand fisted in her hair, tugging her head back. “Watch yourself, princess, or I’ll be forced to remind you who’s really in charge here.”
“Oh no, that sounds scary,” she shot back, keeping her voice deliberately bored despite the pounding of her pulse in her throat.
“My naughty little princess wants to be scared?” Another of those low, wicked chuckles reached her, sending a frisson of the fear she was pretending not to feel racing up her spine. “Ask, and ye shall receive.”
Taking her hand, he guided her… somewhere. And before she could even try to reorient herself, his hands were around her waist, lifting her in the air, the move startling a squeal of terror from her before she could even think to stop the sound.
Her knees hit something soft and leathery. The silver throne, she realized, the one that had looked not quite right for sitting but she hadn’t been given a chance to really figure out their first time in the room.
That same soft leather locked around one wrist, then the other, trapping her in place. Rather than an altar to be worshiped at, now she felt more like a sacrifice, bound and on display to appease some hedonistic god.
Appropriate, really.
When his hand cupped the soft flesh of her ass, she had to bite back a moan at the flash of pleasure between her thighs.
“Sometime after the baby is born, I’ll bring you back here and introduce you to the violet wand.
Lochlan is a fan of electrical play, and I’ve picked up a few things from him over the years. ”
“You want to electrocute me?”
“Just a little bit.” His words dripped with amusement as he leaned in, dropping his voice to a low growl. “You did ask me to scare you, after all.”
Well, he’d certainly succeeded. But the idea didn’t horrify her as much as it should have. If anything, her clit was positively throbbing at the thought of him tying her down and making her scream as he ‘tortured’ her. “You’re going to have to try a bit harder than that, O’Rourke.”
The hand on her ass disappeared, and then there was an explosion of pain as his palm connected sharply with her bare skin. “What is my name when we’re in the club?”
Logic said she should be a good girl so he wouldn’t punish her anymore.
She wasn’t feeling very logical. “Master O.”
Several more swats landed, pulling a series of low whimpers from her as the burn spread across her entire backside. “Let’s try this again. What did I tell you to call me while we’re in the club?”
When she didn’t answer quickly enough, he landed another series of burning swats to her ass. Arousal dripped down her thighs as she gasped and squirmed on the chair. “Daddy! You said to call you Daddy or Sir!”
“Good girl.” His hand, which had been so punishing only a moment ago, stroked her aching flesh. “So, what do you call me?”
Again, logic and reason said to give in. To be a good girl so he would lavish her with praise and pleasure instead of more pain. And yet… “All right, Daddy-O. You win.”
Silence filled the room, and it took every bit of willpower she had not to burst into laughter. Even more so when he finally spoke. “Did you just call me Daddio?”
“Well, if everyone else calls you Master O then it makes sense I should call you Daddy O. Don’t you think?”
A dozen more swats fell, heating every inch of her ass while she fought not to squeal at the stinging pain.
“I absolutely do not think you should call me anything of the sort, little girl. But keep being a fucking brat if you want. I promise your ass will wear out well before my hand or any of the implements hanging on that wall.”
“You can’t use those on a pregnant woman!”
“Not the paddles, perhaps. But the floggers and canes are fair play. I had Naomi check with Dr. Byrd this morning just to be sure.”
Fuck. She hadn’t taken any of that into consideration when she’d baited him. But she couldn’t very well back down now just because he’d upped the ante on her. “I’m not scared of you, Daddy-O.”
Time seemed to freeze around her, as if the very air itself was holding its breath, waiting to see what happened next.
But instead of the punishing swats she’d braced for, there was only the slow, light touch of his fingertip tracing its way down her spine.
“You aren’t, are you? By all rights you should be terrified of me.
Of what I could do to you, your family. Even when I threatened to kill your father if he dared to try and take you from me, you were more pissed off than scared. ”
There was… something in his tone, a sort of wonder that smothered the sarcastic retort burning on her tongue. “Because I know you’d never actually hurt me. Or my father.”
“I would have. If I thought he was a danger to you.”
More truth, though it still didn’t scare her the way it probably should have. “And that’s why I’m not scared. You would rather kill your best friend than let anything truly bad happen to me.”
“I would. You’re my everything, Aria.”
Emotion caught in her throat. “Because of the baby.”
“No. Because of you. Don’t get me wrong, knowing you’re carrying my child does make me feel even more protective than usual.
But you, Aria, you’ve had my heart from the very first moment I laid eyes on you.
It killed me, walking away from you, staying away from you, knowing you could never be mine. ”
Oh, god. How was she supposed to fight that? To resist a man as powerful as him laying his heart bare at her feet?
She couldn’t. And so she wouldn’t.
“I’ve always been yours, Killian. Even when I walked away, even when I was so fucking angry with you I wanted you dead, I wanted nothing more than to be right where I belonged. In your bed, your arms, at your feet. So please, Sir, make me yours again.”
“As you wish.”