Chapter 2 #2
Shameless and without remorse, he’d forced my legs apart and fingered me while my coworkers went about their business like any other day. But my entire life had changed in that fifteen minutes. I’d signed the contract on his terms and promptly fell down the rabbit hole.
Fell into an addiction named Gage Channing, and not even putting a year between us and running half way across the country had stopped him in the end.
“Beg,” he said.
“Please spank me.”
“I’m not convinced. Convince me, Kayla. Tell your Master how badly you deserve to be punished.”
“I need to be punished. Please, Master. Spank me.”
“No.” He pulled me flush against his hard body. “Explain to me why I should give you my hand.”
“Because I forgot to pick up the dry cleaning?” A note of question entered my tone.
“That’s part of it, but I think you know the real reason.”
He knows! Shit, he knows.
Icy dread sludged through me. I hoped he didn’t notice the shudder in my bones. How I managed to keep my voice steady remained a mystery.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. If you tell me, then I can beg you for what I deserve.”
“You’ve been absent from this relationship lately. I don’t know where your mind is, but it’s not on how to serve and please me. Remind me again what your job is.”
“To serve, please, and obey my Master.” I recited the oath with such precision it fell flat to my ears.
He didn’t seem to hear the lack of truth in those words. “And what is my responsibility to you, baby?”
“To love and care for me.”
“Have I not done those things?”
“You have.”
“Then I won’t ask again. Beg me to make your ass red, and mean it.”
I closed my eyes and uttered the words, swallowed the self-disgust in my throat. His hand came down with too little force but with obvious intent. The easier he went on me, the faster I’d get wet.
And he never passed up an opportunity to clamp my nipples.
I willed my body to behave and waited for the next swat, but it never came. Silence ticked by, ringing in my ears, increasing the speed of my pulse. What was he waiting for…?
Oh.
“Please, Master. Again.”
“Should I go easy on you?”
“No, Master.”
“Why not?”
“It pleases you to hurt me.” It was true enough, and if he stopped playing with me and just fucking struck me with a punishing hand, maybe I could control myself. “Please, Master. Spank me hard.”
He complied, and I asked for another. I asked for so many that I lost count. When would it be enough for him?
“Please…” My voice trailed off, and I resisted squirming on his lap as my ass blazed. I didn’t want to push him and prolong the punishment. I’d learned to accept his sadism, his need to mark me as his for the smallest of reasons. Life was easier when I gave in.
“Please, what?”
Please stop.
“Please spank me again, Master.”
His hand came down with a loud smack.
Harder.
Faster.
He was escalating from punishing to vicious. I couldn’t contain my strangled cries after a while. I’d never been more appreciative of the soundproofed room. Last thing I wanted was for Eve to hear me.
“Please!” I yelped, then forced a plea for more between tight lips.
“More, you’ll get. My hand loves your ass. I have all day.” Each time he hit me, I jerked atop his lap, blinked through the burning tears pooling in my eyes. But on some masochistic level, I knew I deserved every strike of his hand.
A desolate tear fell to the floor, and I fell silent for too long.
“Do you think you’ve been punished enough?”
I thought long and hard about my answer, but there was no right one because either option could potentially land me in his lap for another twenty minutes…or longer. “Yes, Master. I won’t forget the dry cleaning again.”
“Are you wet?”
“No, Master.”
But it wouldn’t take much to get me there.
I stood, facing away, and bent so he could complete the punishment by checking me.
It was a degrading thing to do—bending over, fingers grasping my ankles so he could probe my sex for signs of forbidden arousal.
At the first touch of his fingers spreading me open, seeking my hot center, I bit my lip hard.
“Spread your legs.”
I did so, and he pushed his fingers so deep, I was sure the full length of them laid claim to my treacherous cunt.
The needy thing was a cunt. It didn’t know when to fucking behave, and I was a stroke away from creaming all over his hand.
I counted the various lines in the hardwood, watched the way my hair gently swished the floor.
And I thought of the front door and how I needed to be going through it now.
That wouldn’t happen if I let my body betray me.
Again. I should have more self-restraint by now.
How many times had he tormented me with denial?
With orgasm control? He’d trained me so well that I rarely came unless he commanded me to.
But controlling my body on the cusp of a punishment, no matter how degrading or hurtful, was torturous, and he knew it.
“Good girl,” he murmured, slowly withdrawing his fingers from me. I rose to an upright position. But he wasn’t through with me; he spun me around and pulled me onto his lap.
“You did well, baby.” He caught my mouth, drawing me into a kiss that made my muscles tense and freeze.
A kiss that torpedoed through me and did what his punishment hadn’t; turned me to liquid fire.
Unfurled me into abandon. Obliterated my mind because I couldn’t think beyond his tongue sliding against mine.
His cock grew heavy between my legs, and I fell victim to need. I was free of thought, doubt, or regret as I pushed against his hard shaft, tainting his pajama bottoms with my arousal and wishing like hell the flannel wasn’t between us.
He broke our fevered connection and inched back, pinning me with hooded indigo eyes. “Do you deserve to be fucked?”
I almost said yes, but the gleam in his gaze bespoke of sadistic fuckery. It was a trick question. “No, Master.”
“Good answer.” Gently, he untangled my quaking body from his and pushed me to the floor between his spread knees. I must have fallen under some devious spell because I couldn’t tear my eyes away as he tugged his pants down and freed his erection.
Adrenaline rushed my veins, heat erupted at my core, and I licked my lips, already tasting him on my tongue. Already hearing the way he groaned low in his throat whenever I teased the head of his gorgeous cock.
Imagined him surrendering to me, if only for a few minutes.
“You want me in your mouth?”
“Yes, Master.”
“That’s too bad.” He folded his fingers around his shaft and stroked the length. Up. Down. Slower than slow. “You don’t deserve to suck my cock.”
My breath hitched, but I bit my tongue to keep from arguing with him.
“Open your mouth.” He began pumping his smooth shaft. “Now, Kayla. Open your mouth.”
I did as told and waited with parted lips.
A few more strokes of his hand was all it took.
Striking my ass had been all the foreplay he needed.
Letting out a deep cry, he jumped to his feet, height towering over me, and squirted his release onto my face.
I wiped his cum from my eyes and swallowed what had landed on my tongue.
A few heavy seconds passed. For some reason, he avoided my gaze.
And that’s when I realized it. When he realized it.
Mutual understanding flowed between us. I needed freedom, and he needed absolute control.
But which one of us would fold first? The foundation of our marriage had shifted, had been shifting for a while, and I suspected neither of us had acknowledged it until now.
He broke the silence. “Freshen up and take care of your errand.” He offered his hand—an act of kindness, or a trap?
Cautiously, I fit my hand into his and allowed him to haul me to my feet.
But when I tried to move past him toward the bathroom, he halted me with a harsh grip on my chin, his thumb and forefinger pressing into his cum on my face.
“I want you back here by noon and not a minute later. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, Master.”
He dropped his fingers to my collarbone, caressing the infinity collar that trapped my neck—the symbol that enslaved me under his ownership until the day I died…and maybe not even then.
“I don’t enjoy being harsh with you. You probably don’t believe that, but it’s true.”
He was right. I didn’t believe him. His sadism often did the driving. Gage was just a passenger to its depraved needs.
“But I know something is going on with you,” he said. “Don’t keep shit from me. Dishonesty will get you nowhere.” He let me go, but his warning had the desired effect because I was shaking by the time I found sanctuary in the bathroom.