Chapter 14
Ace
Heat spreads over me, and I lower my gaze, straightening my dress as I stand straight.
Shit.
Dropping my shoulders, I stare at him, unblinking as he reads me like a book. He leans down, narrowing his gaze, so our faces are only inches apart. My ass tingles from him spanking me, though the fabric of my dress helped shield some of it.
“Let’s get one thing straight, angel, otherwise I have a feeling you’re going to have a hot ass whenever you’re around me.”
Whenever I’m around him?
What the hell does he mean by that? We had a one-night stand, and I guess now we’re having a two-night stand? I don’t even want to think about the fact that he lives seven houses away from mine.
“You don’t lie to me. I don’t lie to you. It’s a rule,” he says quietly.
A rule? He can’t give me rules. Who the hell does he think he is?
Why does he even care? He makes it seem like whatever we tell each other matters, and it doesn’t.
He’s a rich casino owner who was looking for a quick fuck, and I was the one he took to his room that night.
Getting to fuck him again is just a bonus.
He saw my scar, and instead of looking horrified, he looked pissed. Like he wanted to hunt down whatever or whoever caused it. And the way he’s staring at me now is the same way he was the other night. Like he wants to devour me.
“Okay,” I finally say.
As soon as the word comes out, his mouth is on mine, kissing me hard and fast, his fingers threaded in my hair, and his other hand on my ass, grabbing it.
When he pulls away, he goes back to what he was doing earlier, while I sag against the counter and sigh dreamily. I didn’t know men kissed like that in real life. Then let me go and act like nothing happened while he slices apples and puts them on a plate.
“What are you doing?” I ask, squinting. It’s after midnight.
I cannot believe he lives on my street. What does that mean? Are we going to see each other randomly at the mailbox? Probably not. I doubt men like Kian Savage check their own mail.
His house is one of the very last in our little gated community, so he’ll drive past my place every time he comes or goes, but I don’t have any reason to go this way unless I’m doing it on purpose.
“I’m making you a snack because you’re tipsy, and food will help absorb some of that before you go to sleep.”
Oh. Right.
Butterflies erupt low in my belly as he holds an apple slice with a glob of peanut butter on it up to my mouth.
I open and take a bite, then watch as he eats the other half, his gaze trained on me, intense and brooding.
He continues to feed me for several minutes. Apples. Cheese cubes. Grapes. Crackers. Almonds. It’s practically a full-on charcuterie board, and I love every bit of it.
“What caused that scar, Ace?” he asks softly.
Holding the bottle of water he offers me, I bring it to my lips and take a drink. “I was in a car accident about a year ago that crushed my hip and femur. I had multiple surgeries to repair them. I’m fine. Sometimes when I overdo it, I ache more than usual, and I favor that side.”
Kian’s expression is a mask of calm and collected, but his eyes tell a different story as he studies my face for several beats. “You ache more than usual,” he says slowly. “You’re always in pain?”
A lump forms in my throat, so I take another drink to give myself a second. This is not the direction tonight is supposed to go. He was spanking me a few minutes ago. My panties are still drenched.
“Kian, I’m fine.”
The moment I say his name, his jaw clenches.
He boxes me in against the counter, my back to it this time, so we’re pressed front to front.
He stares down at me, not a hint of color in his eyes as he whispers, “I don’t like it when you pretend you’re fine and you’re not.
Whoever taught you to stay silent about your needs should be shot.
And I mean that with every fucking fiber of my being, Ace. ”
My skin prickles, a shiver working its way down my spine.
The house around us is silent, other than the whoosh of my heartbeat pounding in my ears.
His intensity should scare the hell out of me.
We’ve only met one other time, and now he has me in his house, where he’s giving me rules and demanding whatever he wants.
Asking questions about things I’m not sure I’m ready to talk about.
I’ve met men like him before. I know ones just like him. And that’s how I know that I’m safe with Kian. There’s no doubt in my mind that Kian is a dangerous, deadly man, but he’s not the kind to hurt women. Not unless there’s a very good reason.
“Kian, we came here to fuck, remember? Let’s do that.”
His Adam’s apple bobs, and he scowls at me, but when I slide my hands up his chest, my fingers sliding into the neckline of his dress shirt, he lets out an uneven breath.
“When we’re alone like this, it’s Daddy.” He spins me around again. “And you’re right, angel. We came here to fuck, but first, you have a punishment.”
Pressing between my shoulder blades, he pushes my chest down to the counter again and stands at my side so I can see him.
“When we’re together, you’re mine. Which means I’m responsible for you. So I want to make it perfectly clear to you right now that being honest with me when I ask you a question is a rule. Do you understand me?”
The last two words send a shiver through me right down to my core, and I instantly nod, not wanting to do anything to make this stop.
I don’t know why I want this, but being spanked like a naughty little girl has always been my biggest fantasy.
Being bent over and submitting to someone is so embarrassing.
So intimate. Not just a swat on the ass during sex. No, this… Discipline.
“When I ask you a question, I want a verbal answer.”
“Yes, Daddy,” I breathe out, then yelp when he spanks my ass again.
He smooths his hand over the spot he just spanked, then runs his hand down the back of my thigh. “Good girl. I’m going to lift your dress, and I don’t want you to be ashamed of your scars. They’re part of you, angel. Got it?”
Keeping his hand on the hem of my dress, he stares at me, waiting for an answer.
I’m not embarrassed by my scars. Not really.
It’s more that they are a constant reminder of everything I lost. Ballet was my passion.
And now I can hardly practice for an hour without needing to ice myself.
Then again, I can’t remember the last time I actually enjoyed ballet before my accident.
It was no longer about the art itself. In my mother’s eyes, it was a business, and I was the pawn.
Studying Kian’s face, I watch for any sign of pity, but he hasn’t shown any since he discovered my mangled leg. With my eyes locked on his, I nod. “Yes.”
His hand is steady when he raises the silk of my dress up and over my ass, then tucks his fingers into the waistband of my matching pink lacy panties and tugs them down.
“Naughty girls get spanked on the bare ass,” he says, and if this moment wasn’t so intense, it would almost be laughable that he pulled them down, considering they barely covered my ass anyway.
Taking a deep breath, I squeeze my eyes shut and wait for the first smack, still not ready when it lands on the fleshiest part of my ass.
When he does the same thing on the other cheek, I whimper and lift onto my tiptoes, but he doesn’t stop. Over and over, Kian peppers my ass, covering the entire area until I’m yelping and dancing as much as his hold will allow.
“Daddy, I’m sorry,” I cry out finally.
He stops and tilts his head to the side to meet my eyes, his expression more stern than I expect. “Are you going to lie to me again?”
My pussy clenches as I blink up at him. “No.”
He smacks my sit spots. “No, Daddy.”
Whimpering, I hiss and dance from toe-to-toe, my ass burning. “No, Daddy.”
Smoothing his hand over my hot cheeks, he leans down and kisses the back of my head. “Good girl. And no more leaving without telling me, yeah?”
I nod. “Yes. I’m sorry. I’ve been feeling guilty ever since I did it. It wasn’t you. It was…”
“You didn’t want me to see your scar in the daylight,” he says quietly.
“It happened a year ago. No one has seen it other than my doctors. I, um, I didn’t want you to be disgusted.”
Kian keeps his hold on me, his hand still soothing the sting on my butt. “You’re perfect, angel. Kind of makes me feel better, knowing you have a tiny flaw that isn’t even actually a flaw.”
I laugh unexpectedly. “I promise I have lots of flaws.”
When he narrows his gaze at me, my stomach drops. I’m starting to recognize that look.
“Are you putting yourself down, angel? Because I’d be happy to use this wooden spoon on your ass instead of fucking you with my cock, like I was planning to do.”
Oh my God. I need to be fucked. I need him, filling me, grabbing me, making me feel like I am whole again.
“No, I wasn’t. I swear,” I rush out breathlessly.
He chuckles and moves a hand to his belt buckle. “Are you on birth control?”
“Yes.”
My eyes dart to his long, thick cock when he pulls it free from his black boxer-briefs and gives it one long stroke.
“I want to fuck you bare. I have my last test results if you want to see them.”
I shake my head. “I trust you.”
Both of us go still for a second, and I squeeze my eyes closed.
Fuck.
That sounded deeper than I meant it.
“You shouldn’t, angel,” he says tightly. “You really fucking shouldn’t.”
Then he slides his fingers into my folds, and the sound of my arousal fills the spacious kitchen.
“So wet already,” he murmurs, then dips two fingers into my pussy.
I moan and arch back more. “Daddy.”
The word flows out so easily, and the next thing I feel is his cock, pressed to my pussy, stretching me.
“Oh my God,” I whimper, sucking in a breath.
“Jesus, you’re so tight, angel. Tell me if I hurt you, okay?”
It takes me a second to process his words. When I don’t answer, he spanks my ass.
“Yes, okay,” I moan, my pussy clenching around him.