Chapter 3 #2
He backed away, chuckling under his breath before trailing the same finger down my stomach, moving to within an inch above my pussy. I expected him to grope me, but he pulled away completely, taking two steps back and lifting a single eyebrow. “Come with me. I can tell you respond well to pain.”
While I did what he commanded, following behind him like some lap dog, I rolled the various scenarios of how this was going to end in my mind. Only one of us was walking out of here.
He moved underneath a steel beam, slowly lifting his head, which encouraged me to do the same.
There were shackles hanging from the pole, the thick leather bands and steel buckles creating another wave of anxiety.
I would be immobile for several minutes, enduring whatever the man wanted to dole out.
My stomach flipped, but my determination was set. This was going to happen.
You can do this. You prepared for this.
To a point. I’d read everything on BDSM I could find, but enduring punishment would stretch more than just my boundaries.
When he moved to a large wheel with a handle, I sucked in my breath.
He studied me intently as he slowly lowered the beam.
With the slightest of movements, the shackles swung back and forth, a creaking noise reminding me this posh room was nothing more than a glorified dungeon.
When he was satisfied with the position, he took two long strides toward me, not touching me, yet his eyes were demanding just like his demeanor was controlling.
“You will hold out your arms, presenting yourself to me for punishment.”
Who the hell was he kidding?
“What?” Fuck you. I hated looking into his eyes, the same ones I remembered from over a decade before. They’d shimmered then, happy and preparing for a fabulous future. On this night, they were dark and foreboding, as if the man had lost his soul years before.
All he had to do was give me a look and it chilled me to my core.
He wanted my agreement, my approval for this… horror show. Fine. I’d give it to him.
I held out my arms, turning them over and showing him my fisted hands. I was anticipating roughness, but he seemed restrained, using a single finger, sliding it along the inside of my elbow to my wrist.
“Excellent. You can be obedient. Raise your arms over your head.”
His deep voice resonated in the darkest locations of my mind, and I did as I was told, lifting my arms over my head.
When he wrapped his hand around one wrist, pulling the leather cuff closer with the other, I was shocked at how many tremors swept through me.
As he positioned the shackle in place, I bit my lower lip.
The last thing I wanted to do was allow him even a single thought that he’d bested me with so little effort.
He wasted no time buckling one strap then moving to the other.
When he was finished, I realized he hadn’t tightened them to the point I couldn’t slip out of them no matter how hard I struggled.
That surprised me more than I wanted to admit.
He also didn’t bother to shackle my legs before turning the crank, lifting me into the air just enough that only my toes touched the tile floor.
I was thrown by his sudden silence, the brutal man returning to the drink he’d left on the table.
My natural instinct was to fight with the bindings, but I found myself fisting my hands in order to keep them from slipping from the leather straps.
There was something about his gaze as he studied me that was troubling.
I kept my head high, issuing another reminder to keep my resolve strong.
He left me there, retrieving his empty glass. My stomach was in knots, my mind a blur. He was so gorgeous, the years adding to his exquisite masculinity. I continued to be thrown, pissed off by the way my body was betraying me. I held my breath, terrified of what he would do.
When Alexander returned his drink to the table with a hard thud, I had to bite back a whimper. I’d never felt so uncomfortable yet exhilarated in my life. The combination was something my mind refused to process.
He advanced, moving toward one of the cabinets. I couldn’t see what implement he’d selected, but my body tensed in anticipation. Within a few seconds, he closed the distance behind me, tapping whatever he’d chosen against my backside.
“You’ll need to learn that by accepting a position, your performance reflects on everything I do.
I take my job seriously, Dahlia. I’ve sacrificed significantly in order to provide for my family, and I have no intentions of allowing anyone to take that away.
As such, I refuse to tolerate insolence or bad behavior. That’s why punishment is necessary.”
There was the man I’d learned to hate. His arrogance disgusted me more than the way my body reacted to his prowess.
While I held my tongue, I wasn’t certain that would last, yet when he sliced the first strike against my bottom, I wasn’t prepared for the intensity of the anguish driving through every muscle.
“Oh!” There was no chance I could keep from crying out, the pain enough that my body jerked.
I tossed my head to the side, trying to catch a glimpse of what he was using.
It was useless. He’d backed away, enjoying pushing me to the edge of my threshold so quickly.
I heard the snapping sound of his wrist before a whoosh as the implement moved through the air with force.
I tossed my head toward one arm then the other, fighting my urge to slip out of my bindings. He was testing me. Damn him.
All the preparation I’d done couldn’t help with the jitters or the wash of agony as he delivered four strikes with precision.
I twisted in my bindings, realizing I couldn’t stop the involuntary moan erupting from deep in my throat.
Just the way he took his time, walking around me in a full circle, was enough to keep my anger resting on the surface, the smile on his face like the cherry on top.
All he was doing was adding gasoline to my rage, refreshing all the reasons I’d taken a job inside his nefarious club in the first place.
I hated the way he brushed his fingers across my buttocks. Even worse was how my body reacted involuntarily, desire building with every hard slap he issued. The scent of desire was evident, making me sick inside.
“You look beautiful wearing my stripes,” he stated, his voice dripping of lust, the tone like soft velvet tickling my naked skin.
“Leather is the ultimate in providing the perfect punishment.” He moved around me for a second time, holding the implement in front of me.
The thin leather strap had two tails dangling from the end.
I could swear the man was amused as he rolled the ends between my breasts, cocking his head.
He was contemplating using the strap on other sections of my body.
Bucking against the restraints, the creaking of the leather and chains holding me only seemed to amuse him.
He sucked in his breath before returning to his perch, prepared to continue the brutal punishment.
God, I hated this man. He was nothing but a predator, someone who had no conscience or good inside of him.
As he continued the harsh discipline, I closed my eyes, the rush of adrenaline boosting the strange tingles dancing through me.
After snapping the strap several more times, his sigh was an indication that he’d grown bored.
“You are aware that you could get out of your bindings anytime you desired.”
I wasn’t certain if he wanted an answer or not, but I remained quiet.
“Since you remain in position, that tells me that you’ve craved having a dominant force in your life. That pleases me.”
What the hell did I care?
I could tell he was waiting for me to say something else. There was no way I was giving him the satisfaction.
“I think you’ve had enough. For now.” He tossed the implement aside then cranked the mechanism, easing me to my feet. As soon as he did, I yanked my wrists out of the cuffs, immediately backing away.
Damn it. I hated the way my body wasn’t responding normally. I almost stumbled as I tried to add more distance between us, another wave of anguish shifting through me. When he acted like he cared, moving toward me, I threw out my arm.
While he stopped his advance, there was an entirely different look in his eyes, possessive in nature.
“Tell me again, Dahlia, why you chose to work in my club.”
“Because…” I started, nasty words right on the tip of my tongue. “I already told you. I’m paying my way through school.” I shifted a few feet closer to the couch where my corset was, wanting this to be over.
“I’m curious. What are you studying?”
“Business Administration.” Was he playing twenty questions with me?
“Interesting.” He unfastened several buttons on his shirt, allowing me to catch a slight glimpse of his chest. I found it difficult to take my eyes off him. “What university?”
He suspected I wasn’t who I’d claimed to be. “Columbia.”
“Hmm…” he said as he closed the distance between us. “Perhaps I can help with your education needs. I know almost everyone on the board of trustees. I’m certain a scholarship can be provided for you.” The smirk on his handsome face made my throat tighten.
“That won’t be necessary but thank you. I can do this by myself.” I backed away by another two feet, causing a look of scorn to cross his face.
“Can you?” he growled, matching my strides.
“Yes.” The nervousness in my voice was likely a dead giveaway. I couldn’t go any further without pushing him away and I doubted he was going to allow that to happen. I suddenly felt small in comparison to him, even with my boots on.