Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Luna

I was still overwhelmed by the recent events that had me sitting in a fine-dining restaurant with the sexiest man I'd ever seen. However, being warm and eating amazing food helped to settle the out-of-control feeling that had been plaguing me since entering the airport back home.

The company was also calming, and I liked the quiet confidence that emanated from Artair. I wished I had even a little of what he seemed to have in spades. He was the type of man always in control, not in a nasty way, but more in a possessive way that sparked a host of fantasies for me every time my thoughts wandered, which was frequently. Still, my question as to why he was spending time with me played in a loop in my head. I knew he wanted to spank me, and I knew why, sorta, but what was it about me that drew his attention in the first place?

"Will you be having dessert tonight, sir?" Of course, the server directed every question to Artair and not me. This patriarchal attitude reminded me of the in-flight movie, Barbie .

I wasn't entirely sure as the voices were hard to hear with the crappy headphones they handed out, but from the actions, I'd say Ken got a dressing-down and Barbie a character refresh that screamed of feminism. Despite liking and agreeing with aspects of the movie, what they failed to ruminate on was the roles all humans find themselves playing. Ken was blind to what he'd been taught to be. That was the real patriarchy, the system, or in the movie's example, Mattel , which admittedly, I found amusing.

Honestly, I didn't care much for bringing down the patriarchy or being a feminist, because despite my issues, and I had plenty, I liked myself and who I was. People were who I was voting for with no wish to judge anyone's journey. I was not a fan of labels or choosing one sex over the other. What I did resonate with was the right to be who you are and be accepted.

In my case, I was still coming to terms with what I wanted, and sought acceptance from the people I wanted to be around. Being with Artair made me feel good; he didn't seem to have an issue with our age gap, financial differences, or even experience. I wondered if Scottish people in general were all so accepting or if I'd lucked out when I met Artair.

"I, for one, always love dessert." Artair spoke to our server but was looking at me. "How about you, Luna, feel like some plum pudding or cherry cream pie?"

His lips tipped up in a side grin and I felt heat radiate across my cheeks, and my thighs instinctively snapped shut.

"Did I mention I'm a sucker for suckers?" I replied teasingly.

Both men looked alarmed, and I realized this could be a language thing. "You know, lollipops," I quickly added.

Artair laughed and our server cleared his throat. "Bring us one of everything to go," Artair instructed.

His eyes held mine with a promise that I remembered from the airport. Our server left to fulfill the request and the air suddenly thickened between us.

"Does this mean I will be receiving my punishment when we go back to my hotel?"

Artair tilted his head slightly to the right. I realized he did this when he debated his answer.

"When I asked you if I could show you my home, you placed a condition on us moving forward. So in that regard, you hold the power, Luna. Have your conditions been met?"

The question I'd been wrestling with all evening, finally blurted out. "Why me? What did I do to get your attention?"

He sat back in his chair and continued to peer at me as if he could see my very soul. I shifted in my seat, suddenly uncomfortable. His intensity both attracted and repelled me. I knew it was a me thing, not a him thing, but it was still there all the same and I couldn't hide that from him.

"You have ADHD, and a little social anxiety. It is difficult for you to hide what you're thinking and feeling and you also find it hard to fit in."

Holy crab snacks! I gulped. "Yes, that is true."

He nodded slowly. "Because of that, you are exactly who and what you are, and I find that refreshing. But I also noted your behavior when you became overwhelmed, and I knew you were in dire need of a Daddy, like me."

My stomach turned inside out and plummeted, leaving me gasping for breath. Artair looked concerned. He'd just said my fantasy out loud, something I'd never admitted to anyone, and hearing it spoken so commonly in the same nonchalant tone one would use to discuss the weather, was too much for me to deal with. I pushed back my chair, escaping to the bathroom. Thank goodness no one else was there because I couldn't hold still.

I fully expected a trench to appear in the floor from my pacing back and forth, with only stops to stare at myself in the mirror as if somehow, I had answers. I became hyper-aware and didn't know how to handle it, but as there were no answers in the bathroom, I returned to the table.

Artair looked concerned.

"Sorry. I didn't know what to do with what you just said to me. I still don't. It's like you opened something up and I can't deal with everything flooding my system. But… my answer to what we discussed earlier is ‘yes'. You passed my initiation," I said trying to backpedal from sounding like a crazy person and hoping he'd understand my sudden disappearance as well as my ramblings about my mental condition at present.

"I should not have done that to you, Luna, I'm very sorry. But I will make this right, don't you worry, little one."

Little one? I liked it, but I also liked when he called me lass. Maybe he could call me Little Lass. My heart expanded and suddenly all the angst just tapered off. I took a few deep breaths getting my heart rate under control.

Our server arrived with a large bag and the bill which Artair quickly settled before escorting me out of the restaurant. His car was right out front and our driver opened the door and took the bag, allowing us to scoot inside. Artair placed me on his lap and rubbed my back.

"Oh, that's nice," I commented sleepily.

He mumbled soothing words as he continued to palm my back. At the hotel, my sleepiness wore off the minute we stepped out of the car, and I was back to being on high alert. He seemed to feel my hesitation and took me by the hand and up to my room at the tippy-top of the hotel.

Artair placed the bag inside the fridge in my suite. He took off his coat and held my gaze while he rolled the cuffs of his sleeves a little higher, showing more of his tattoo. It was indeed a dragon, with a clawed foot on top of a standing sword. There were words on the hilt of the sword but not in a language I could read. He moved to sit on the couch and adjust the cushions before tapping his lap.

"It's time for that spanking I promised you."

Energy pinged through me like a ping-pong ball. My chest rose and fell in quick staccato beats, matching my breath. This is so wrong , my head screamed, but oh so right, my lady parts purred. Whatever. I'd agreed to this already, so swallowing my resistance, I moved until I came to a stop in front of him.

"Good lass. Now, I'll give you the choice to tug your pants down yourself or have me do it."

A choice… Did that have significant meaning? How did I know what I chose was right?

"Is this a test?" I needed way more context on how to do this. I'd fantasized about the moment so many times but in real time, whoa, I was treading in deep water.

"This is not a test, but if it makes you feel better, in offering you a choice, I get to examine your responses. It's the lawyer in me."

I was surprised he was being so clear in his motivations. Sometimes in my fantasies, I imagined myself being in a position of dubious consent, like in the mafia-styled romance books I loved to read… The right answer brought rewards, and the wrong answer brought punishment. But this was pretty straightforward, and my mind was making it more than it was. Except…

"Is this a scene?"

Artair looked genuinely puzzled. "A scene? Like an agreed-upon roleplay type of thing?"

I nodded.

"No. This is for real, Luna. I am a Daddy, about to spank a naughty girl. This is who I am, not just what I do."

I wasn't entirely sure of the difference, but was willing to see where this thing between us was going.

"You have five seconds to decide before your choice is taken away."

"You. Please." My face instantly colored with shame. God, how lame could I be? But he didn't seem to mind. His eyes had darkened, intensifying the firm, ‘you're in trouble' look he'd given me earlier. What would he say when he saw I didn't wear panties? Was that an issue? I was still questioning my wardrobe choices when I tumbled face down over his lap. An oomph escaped me as my nervous belly pressed into his muscular thighs. He placed one hand on the back of my hips for a moment.

"You think too much, little one."

Didn't I know it! I drove myself crazy sometimes.

"Yes… Do I say ‘Sir' or ‘Daddy'?"

"What do you wish to say?"

More choices, but a good question. Daddy felt way more forbidden, and dirtier than Sir, which reminded me of the server earlier.

"Daddy."

"Good girl. Now lift your hips for Daddy."

I did and he tugged my pants down my thighs until they slipped past my ankles and pooled on the floor. He adjusted me forward so my ass was centered, then tapped my thighs apart.

Cool air immediately hit my hot, wet pussy and I couldn't contain the groan.

"You're excited for your first spanking, I see."

My face colored again. Wait, how did he know it was my first?

As if reading my mind he said, "Remember, your face tells me your truth. I could tell it was your first when I said it at the airport."

I relaxed at that. Of course he could. During dinner we'd discussed personal, but safe topics about each other, and I'd discovered he was in his late thirties. With his world experience, I was sure I must look like a complete amateur in every way, but especially now, as he'd probably spanked many bottoms and I had nothing to compare to what he was about to do to me to, aside from books, which everyone knew were reality-adjacent.

When he squeezed my ass cheek, I realized how big his hands were. I had an ample bottom, but in his hands it felt small. My inner thoughts ended when his hand lifted and slammed down.

"Oh!" The sting morphed into heat and then a throb, but before I could analyze too much, his hand landed again, easily striking both cheeks at once. Yikes! This hurt way more than they'd said. In that moment, I wanted to write every romance author I'd read and tell them they lied.

"Tell me, why are you getting a spanking?"

His hand peppered my backside with hard taps that left me breathless. Why was I getting a spanking? Something about the airport, but I couldn't remember exactly our interaction regarding that.

"I'm not entirely sure!" My last word came out in a squeal as his palm struck in an upward motion at the base of my cheeks leaving in its wake, a delicious sting. The sensations were almost too much for my brain to handle and the urge to fight it, overwhelming.

"First, you didn't give me a chance to introduce myself to you at the ticket gate. Second"—he punctuated his words with a flurry of spanks on my stinging bottom—"you got out of your seat before the plane had stopped moving, ignoring the ‘seatbelt on' sign. Third, you tried to retrieve your case, knowing perfectly well you couldn't reach, endangering yourself for the second time."

As he spoke, his hand continued with those stinging swats on my bottom, and I found it difficult to keep silent, crying out with each stroke. I imagined for a moment this was a comic drawing and all those bubble clouds that show onomatopoeia were appearing in front of me. It was funny in my head, not so much on my bottom.

"Then you shoved your way through passengers to get off the plane. You were a very naughty girl, Luna."

Oh my goodness, why did that sound so dirty? A part of me wanted to protest against all he said, hell, all he was doing, but another part of me knew this was where I belonged, at least for the moment and I planned on soaking in every second of this experience. Even with the lovely endorphins spiking through my system, I felt a certain sadness. I could imagine this being my life… expensive dinners with a sexier-than-sin man who seemed obsessed with my ass.

"Where do you live?" I suddenly asked.

The spanking stopped and I could feel his hesitation.

"Did I give you permission to ask questions while being punished? I guess I'm not doing my job right, if you have time to think while over my lap."

I wanted to argue with him that it was working plenty fine, but even as that thought popped, another replaced it, one of me realizing he was right. I couldn't hold back the giggle, despite it being completely inappropriate.

"Giggle now, naughty girl, for soon you'll be singing."

Huh?

Artair stood and swung me so my knees were on the couch and my chest leaned into the backrest. Behind me, a hiss of sound told me that he was removing his belt, and a moment later, there was a crack in the air that made me shiver.

"Let's see if this helps you concentrate."

Concentrate? Hell, I was trying to do the opposite!

Before I'd fully recovered from the loud, commanding sound of the leather being snapped, I felt a lick of fire across the center of my cheeks.

"Ouch!"

I wanted to reach back and cover my backside, but before I could, Artair issued a warning.

"Ah-ah-ah, naughty lass. Keep your hands on the back of the couch."

Damn, how did he know? He was like a Daddy with superpowers or something. Turned out I needed my hands for squeezing the hell out of the cushions. The worst and by far the most embarrassing thing about my current situation was the juice leaking down my inner thighs.

The leather was more intense than his hand, but also more sensual, causing a blend of pain and pleasure. The more he delivered, the more I wanted.

"Oh, Daddy, please!" I finally cried, no longer able to keep my desire to myself.

"Please, what?"

"I… uh… I need you to touch me."

"You mean you need to come?"

Why was it when he said my dirty thoughts aloud in his growly Scottish voice, I nearly swooned?

"Yes. That is what I meant."

He stopped spanking me when I cried out, but his hand slammed down on my bottom. Then he squeezed the scorching flesh. Moaning, I arched my hips toward him, hoping he'd do more. I wasn't disappointed when he ran his finger along my slick seam.

"Oh! Yes, please."

He tugged my hips back a bit further and sank one of his fingers inside. Artair was a big man, and his hands and fingers were large as well. Only one digit offered me that feeling of fullness I desired. I clenched around it as he stroked my clit.

"Do you want to come, little one?"

"Yes, Daddy, yes please!" Any reservations I'd had about calling him that title had disappeared, and now all I wanted was to please him and be on the receiving end of his pleasure.

He pinched my nub between his fingers. A reaction so powerful I'd never felt anything like it before pinged through me. Heat raced down my spine and my body felt like it shattered into millions of pieces. I hung in space for long moments before collapsing against the back of the couch, completely wrung out. Artair removed his finger and scooped me bridal-style into his arms. I snuggled against his chest, enjoying how his large frame made me feel safe and secure.

He lay me down in the bedroom on a bed that was so deep and soft, my eyes were already closing when a moment later, he swiped between my legs with a warm, wet towel then patted me dry. He covered me with a crisp sheet and a heavy blanket. Cocooned in warmth and comfort, it was hard to stay awake, but I needed to know what came next.

"I'll pick you up for lunch tomorrow, Luna, and we'll make a plan for everything you want to see while you're on vacation."

I wanted to tell him it wasn't a vacation, but my thoughts were a jumbled mess of sleepiness. I grunted in agreement, and it was only when I heard his retreating footsteps that I remembered dessert before falling into a deep sleep.