Chapter 9
Nine
Ella
When Kingston and I get out of the car, I do a little twirl in my new dress. The light pink is girly yet sexy, and it seems everyone here tonight is wearing some shade of red, pink, white, or black.
Vice has a long line trailing around the block, probably because it’s a Friday and it’s Valentine’s Day. Kingston doesn’t take us to wait in line, though—holding my hand, he leads me across the street to a restaurant.
“I thought we were going dancing?” I say.
“We will. But I don’t think you’ve eaten dinner, have you?”
“No, I forgot.” I’ve been getting by on pure excitement.
“Then first I’ll feed you, then we’ll dance.”
The meal is delicious, and the conversation even better. Kingston’s flirting is subtle. He seems so much older than me in this respect—there’s nothing overt about what he’s doing until suddenly I’m breathless and turned on because of a turn of phrase.
As soon as we’re finished eating, I’m ready to go. I want to be in a darkened club with his hands all over me.
“Eager to get out of here?” he asks when I look at the door for the fifth time.
“Well,” I say, drawing out the word, “I was promised dancing.”
“Then let’s go.” He quickly takes care of the check, and we’re back outside in under two minutes.
Bypassing the line for Vice, we walk up to the front entrance. Without a word, the bartender unhooks the rope barrier, watching us as we step inside.
“Must be nice being a big fish, huh?” I ask.
“If you were here alone in that dress, the bouncer would’ve waved you through, too,” he grumbles. “Did you see the way that fucker looked at you? Little punk.”
I smooth a hand over his whiskery cheek. “Calm down, old man.”
“Old man?” He raises an eyebrow.
“Yep. We don’t want to worry about your blood pressure, now, do we?”
“Little girl, I ought to take you over my knee,” he says.
Looking around the crowded club, I shrug and say, “I feel pretty safe from that right now.”
A slow smile grows on his face and he points to my feet. “Don’t move. Or you’ll regret it.”
I inch my toes to the side.
“Your punishments are adding up,” he says.
I’m counting on it. But I say, “I think you’re all talk. Old man.”
He gives a sadistic chuckle and walks off.
Pursing my lips, I am the picture of innocence as he goes to the bar and exchanges a few words with the bartender. He’s back with me a minute later, and leading me to the dance floor.
“What about my so-called punishments?” I ask, letting a little more attitude come through my tone.
“Just a few moments,” he says, and he tugs me to him to dance.
I might have joked about him being an old man, but there’s nothing old about the way he dances. His hands caress me, little touches here and there. Nothing lewd or risqué, just reminders that my body is attuned to his. Every glancing slide of his palm on me serves to heighten my nerves.
After a few minutes of dancing, he turns to look at the bar. One of the servers nods at him.
“All right, little girl, let’s go,” he says.
“Go already? We just got here.”
“We’re not leaving,” he says, “but you were a sassy little brat, and you need to be punished.”
He holds my wrist, not my hand. I remember when he wrapped my arms in rope and led me around his living room.
This is similar, only there are hundreds of people around here.
Nobody seems to notice that I’m being led around like a pet or a little kid, but I’m conscious of the sensation, and my face feels hot.
This is humiliating…and a little bit of a turn-on.
Okay, a lot of a turn-on.
Kingston leads me up some stairs, through a short hallway, and to a door which he unlocks with a key card.
“In you go,” he says. “Remove the dress, leave on your panties and heels. Then stand in front of the window, tits bare.”
I look at the window where he points, and see that it shows the entire dance floor.
“Won’t people be able to see me?” I ask.
“You can leave it dark up here. No one will even think to look. Except for me.”
“Wait, you’re…you’re not going to be in here with me?”
He grins. “I’ll come back eventually. This is the equivalent of a naughty girl standing in the corner while her daddy gets to go have fun.”
“I don’t want you dancing with other women,” I say, frowning.
“You don’t really get to say what I do, little girl.”
I feel as if all the breath leaves my lungs. Would he really do that? Dance and flirt with other women while I’m up here alone in my underwear—
“Ella,” he says, cupping my cheek and looking into my eyes with his stormy blue-gray ones, “I don’t want anyone but you. I’m going down to get us drinks, okay?”
“Oh.” My exhale is loud.
“Did I make you jealous, baby girl?”
“Yes. For fuck’s sake, don’t do that again.”
He just smiles. “Now you know how I felt about that bouncer. The only man I want staring at you like that, other than me, is Sebastian.”
“That’s fair,” I say.
“Good. Get naked, little girl. I’ll be watching.”
I slowly remove my dress, tugging my lower lip between my teeth as I do so.
Kingston sucks in a breath, obviously tempted, but he gains control of himself, shakes his head at me in warning, and leaves the room. The door gives a beep , locking after him.
I kind of can’t believe he’s doing this. What kind of weird-ass punishment is this? He said he doesn’t want people to stare at me, but then he’s having me press my naked chest against a freaking window?
But I trust him. And allowing him to call the shots like this, well, there’s something very freeing in that.
I finish removing my dress and drape it over the edge of a leather couch. This room is luxurious as fuck, with two nice couches, a square coffee table bearing a vase of black irises, and some understated paintings on the walls that don’t overlook the club.
A chill rises over my skin as I make my way to the floor-to-ceiling window. I can see everyone down there, and even though nobody is looking up, I cross my hands over my chest. What if someone looks, and sees me, and then they point me out to their friends?
I trust Kingston , I remind myself.
So I take the remaining steps to the window and stand tall and proud, naked except for my panties and heels.
Only one person turns in the crowd to look up at me, and it’s Kingston. I give him a sarcastic wave, but he doesn’t wave back. Big old jerk.
I watch as he moves through the dance floor to the bar, where he gets a couple of drinks. He makes his way back to the stairs, then disappears from my view.
I turn around when he comes into the room.
“I didn’t tell you that you could turn around,” he says.
“You didn’t tell me I had to stay facing the window, either.”
“Oh, your bratty ways are going to end with some big spankings, Ella.”
“Prove it.” It’s been too long since I felt the heat of a spanking. I want it…I crave it.
He sets the drinks on the coffee table and marches to the window where I’m still standing.
“Hands on the glass, and bend over for me,” he says.
I don’t move.
Making a tsking sound with his tongue, he grabs the back of my neck and forces my head down.
“Hands on the window, little girl.”
I put my hands on the window. My pussy is so fucking wet, because I know what’s coming and I cannot wait.
“You’re smiling, aren’t you?” he says. “You want my handprints on your ass.”
“Maybe,” I say, smiling bigger.
“Fuck,” he growls, arranging my back so it’s flat and my ass is sticking straight out. “All those people down there are going to watch you get spanked.”
“Just like you watched me flip you off when you looked up?” I ask.
“Yeah.”
“Ha!” I laugh. “I knew it. This window is one-way, isn’t it?”
He laughs. “You figured it out. How’d you know?”
“I knew you wouldn’t put me in a compromising position,” I say quietly.
“Damn straight,” he says, then pulls me to stand straight so he can kiss my lips.
His tongue plunders my mouth, tasting of scotch and making me writhe, clamping my legs together to relieve the pressure between them.
Then he stops kissing me and forces me to bend halfway again.
“Such a naughty girl for bratting, yet such a good girl because you knew I wouldn’t harm you.
I don’t know what to do with you, Ella.”
I’m hoping he’ll spank me already. The suspense is killing me.
He slides my panties down over my hips, his hands slow and warm against my skin. There’s a reverence to the motion, and then his fingers slide over my cheeks, then down between my legs and against my slippery heat.
“Fuck, you’re wet,” he says.
“For you,” I say.
He forces his finger into me, then pulls it out slowly. I wriggle my ass, wanting more of that intrusion.
Instead of his finger in my pussy, I get the cracking pain of his hand slapping my ass.
“Ouch!” I yelp.
“Count them,” he says. “One, Daddy. Two, Daddy.”
“One, Daddy,” I say.
“Good girl.” He spanks me again.
“Two, Daddy.”
The next one hurts more, and it takes me a second to remember I’m supposed to count.
“Do I need to start over?” he asks in a threatening voice.
“No! Don’t start over. Three, Daddy.”
He takes me to twenty, and I’m gasping for breath by the end of it, tears coming from my eyes.
“I’m sorry for bratting,” I say. “I shouldn’t have talked back, Daddy.”
“I know, sweetheart.” He smooths a hand over my bare ass.
I hiss at the sting.
“I was going to give you thirty spanks,” he says, “but then you behaved by going to the window like I asked, even though you didn’t know for sure that it was one-way glass. So I’m being merciful.”
“Thank you, Daddy,” I say, holding my position despite my shaking legs. “Thank you.”
He presses his crotch against my bare ass so I can feel his erection and the cloth of his pants scratching against my raw skin.
“Ow,” I say.
“You make me so fucking hard, Ella,” he says. “It’s like I’m a teenager again whenever I’m around you. I can barely control myself.”
“Don’t control yourself,” I say. “Let yourself go.”
He unfastens his belt and I hear the drag of him unzipping his pants. “I don’t want to hurt you, baby girl.”
“You won’t hurt me,” I say. “I’m strong.”
“I know you are.” He squeezes my ass.
I don’t yelp or make any sound of pain this time, hoping to prove my point. I want him to fuck me hard.
“Stubborn little girl,” he says.
I hear the tearing of a condom wrapper. Turning my head slightly, I watch as Kingston slides the latex over his cock. He’s so freaking big, he looks impossible from this angle.
He squeezes my ass cheeks in both his hands, lifting me so I have no choice but to stand even higher on my tiptoes than the heels allow. A lot of my weight is pushed against the window. Kingston makes a sound of disapproval and pulls me back.
“We have to be safe, I don’t want you getting hurt,” he says.
“Please use me hard,” I say. “I need it.”
“You need it, hmm?”
“Yes,” I beg. My pussy aches with emptiness because the spanking turned me on so much. I want him to drill into me, use me, fuck me so hard I’ll feel it tomorrow every time I take a step or sit down.
He thrusts into me with no warning at all. I take him easily because of how wet and aroused I already am, and I moan.
“Fuck,” he says, dragging his cock out before slamming in again.
“Yes!” I shout. “More, please, Daddy.”
He thrusts in and out, ravaging my pussy, drawing out my pleasure and pain. His body slams against my stinging ass cheeks with every punishing stroke. He reaches around and pinches one of my nipples in his hand, squeezing and rolling it until I cry out in a pain-drenched ecstasy.
“Not too hard?” he asks, not letting up the pace.
“No, give me more,” I say.
“You’re going to regret this,” he says.
“I won’t.”
His hand slides down my stomach, down to my mound, and his fingers find my clit. He can’t do much more than rub me as he fucks me so fast, I’m shaking too much for a controlled grip, but I don’t care. Everything is raw and real and raunchy.
“You think everyone down there can’t see us?” he asks. “What if they could? They’d see my little girl getting fucked, just like she deserves.”
“Yes,” I moan.
“They’d see me filling your needy little cunt with my cock. They’d know I’m your daddy.”
“I want everyone to know,” I say.
“Then shout it for me right now, little girl. Shout my name while you come.”
The orgasm has been building since I took off my dress, and Kingston’s words set it off. I come hard, my pussy milking his cock, spasming around him so hard, it’s a wonder I can stand.
He grunts and thrusts into me several more times before he comes, too, his hands tight on my hips.
He doesn’t leave me in the position for long, thank goodness, because I’m about to melt to the floor in a puddle of satisfaction.
“Come here, little girl,” he says, tugging me against him.
I close my eyes and wrap my arms around his neck. He picks me up and carries me to an adjoining bathroom and helps clean me up while he disposes of the condom.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“Yes,” I say, blinking sleepily at him.
“Let’s get you home,” he whispers as he tucks in his shirt and fastens his belt again.
He helps me into my dress. My panties are too wet to put back on, so he pockets those.
After we’re in his car and I’m buckled in, he pulls out his phone and looks at the screen.
“Have you heard from Sebastian?” I ask.
“No,” he says with a frown.
“Is he all right?”
“I think so. But he’s going to be so fucking disappointed at what he missed tonight. Happy Valentine’s Day, little one.”
I yawn and snuggle against his chest. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Daddy.”