Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

G age

Corporal punishment.

Who the hell was I kidding?

Other than in a BDSM setting, I’d never used a belt, a tawse, a paddle, or anything else to spank anyone for discipline purposes. Sure, I’d heard my two brothers talk about the benefits within a household, but I’d shut both of them down when they’re dared talk about their private lives. The subject was one of those TMI moments. And my brothers and I shared everything.

As I pulled the leather belt into my hand, I heard the rustle of clothing and sighed. Either I would get sued for this or the method would be spot on. I kind of liked having her around. Sending her away would defeat the purpose of getting to know her. In fact, just thinking about blemishing her rounded bottom kept my balls tight and aching.

Being hard while spanking her wasn’t a gentlemanly thing to do. Yet she was the most attractive woman I’d ever met. It would be impossible not to be aroused around her. Any man would be. I wanted to laugh. The hit of jealousy from thinking of her with another man was hysterical.

Possessive.

Her scent was already driving me nuts. The dress she was wearing could make a man go blind. Being allowed to see the prize underneath made me feel guilty. But I also felt in my element. Valerio had once told me when I fully embraced my darker side, I would become a happier man. I’d coughed at his suggestion, but he was onto something. However, my mind was going overboard. I wanted to taste her.

Fuck her.

Tame her.

Punish her.

Own her.

Shit. Zero to sixty. Yet there was no denying the electricity we shared. I kept my back to her, allowing her privacy while I removed my jacket, tossing it across the arm of one of my leather chairs. The bowtie was next, although I almost ripped at that. There was nothing worse than feeling like you were stuck in a penguin suit.

I took my time unbuttoning my shirt and sleeves after removing my cufflinks. They’d been a gift from my father when I’d graduated college. While they were special, they weren’t very personal since my two brothers had each received a pair. Granted, different jewels had been added, our birthstones so they were beautiful pieces of jewelry but still, our father hadn’t been the world’s best at gift giving.

I rolled up my sleeves past my elbows before grabbing the belt once again.

With the leather strap in my hand, I squeezed the thickness, even bringing the leather just under my nose. For a moment, I felt excited about cracking the belt across her naked skin. I guess that meant I was indeed a sadist. Whatever the case, I needed to remain as professional as possible.

I sensed she was leaning over the edge of my desk. I wasn’t certain I could ever look at the space again the same way. I’d never had a woman in my office, other than an employee of course, and their admittance was few and far between. The main reason was that I didn’t need any temptations. None.

Very slowly I turned around. Her face was already placed against the exotic wood, her back heaving from labored breathing. It was ridiculous to think she fully comprehended what was about to occur but at this point, who was I to judge?

What was I saying? I’d been judge and jury on this case. But I reminded myself it was necessary. She wanted to stay and not ruin her friend’s special event and I needed to maintain our rules. Sounded like a win-win.

When I allowed my eyes to drift down her lithe form back to her bottom, I was forced to suck in my breath. I’d thought her legs were long before, but they were perfect and shapely, her figure a flawless hourglass.

I had to get my head out of my ass, or this would never work. I was even sweating, which was something I never did when doling out verbal punishment or anything else.

“Can we get this over with? Please?” she asked, which was a far cry from her demands of earlier.

“Yes, we can, but there is something very powerful about the use of anticipation.” As I moved behind her, I realized I was having difficulty keeping my patience, which I’d been known for. I couldn’t help myself, rolling two fingers down her spine. I could swear I’d heard a moan slipping past her lips except she wouldn’t dare show me how nervous she was. She was determined to remain rebellious.

When I reached her bottom, it took everything I had not to violate her right now. I curled my fingers instead, taking a deep breath. “For tonight, I’ll issue twenty. But keep in mind, I do not think you want me to provide you with another reminder. Now, do you?”

“Why, no, sir,” Evangeline hissed as she lifted her head. There was the rebellious girl I’d met, the one I adored actually.

It was impossible not to grin, but I’d promised her a harsh punishment and that’s exactly what she was going to receive. With the belt folded, I took a few seconds to get into position, shifting her legs further apart.

When I delivered the first strike, it was impossible not to feel euphoric.

While she yelped, her body shaking, I was elated.

Maybe my brothers had been right. I’d never felt more in my element. Did that make me a terrible person? I wasn’t certain I cared.

Evangeline

Although my family was poor in comparison to the parents of just about everyone else in the elite school my father had insisted I attend, I’d still considered my father a very powerful man. Maybe I’d been wrong. Gage Royal was the epitome of power, the kind of man who when he entered a room you just knew he was somebody.

And it wasn’t just about his sophisticated good looks or his sexual prowess. He had an aura few men could achieve, or women for that matter, yet all wanted. In the world of corporate moguls, technical whizzes, influential politicians, and beautiful people, being plain wasn’t in fashion.

Or good for the pocketbook either.

I hadn’t realized I’d been holding my breath until he brought the belt down. I’d yelped right away more from shock, but it took a solid thirty seconds before blinding pain kicked in. It was white-hot electricity that had rocketed through me. I was now panting like some animal, the stars turning into blocks of color.

I’d broken a toe when I was a kid and that had hurt. This was… indescribable. He wasted no time, bringing the thick strap down at least three more times. I knew at this point if I was already losing count, I was going to be nothing but mush when he’d finished.

“Fuck!” I hissed through gritted teeth. I wasn’t a potty mouth girl under normal circumstances, but this was anything but typical.

“Hush. Don’t make me wash out your mouth with soap.” The guttural strain against his voice nearly masked the ridiculousness of what he’d just said.

Almost.

He continued the spanking and I became lost in the wash of pain. Everything seemed surreal, as if I was floating overhead, watching the painful event. I think I would have enjoyed being set free from my body for a little while had Gage not broken the spell by caressing my bottom. One side then the other.

Who did that? Was that a normal part of being spanked, a tender loving moment before another blizzard of anguish? I remembered how horrified I’d been when Ashley and Rachel had dragged me to the club near our college. I’d known they existed of course. I’d heard they were becoming the rage, including with college kids, but I hadn’t truly known what to expect.

But the place, a name I couldn’t remember, had marked and become the epitome of what I thought all clubs of that nature were like.

Dark and foreboding.

In my mind and after seeing what I’d considered horrors being inflicted, I hadn’t entertained going to a club again. Ever.

He brought me out of the memory by bringing the belt down four more times.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” This time, the feeling of anguish had morphed into something excruciating. I never knew a spanking could feel so… wretched. I’d pressed my hands against the desk’s surface, not only pushing myself up until my back was severely arched but I’d almost managed to hump, bump, and roll off the desk.

“Stay in position. I know this is painful, but spankings used for discipline are meant to feel that way.” He was gentle, his voice dipping to a comforting level as he lightly pushed down on my back, encouraging me to keep my position.

All I could do was pant, tears forming in my eyes. I knew one thing. I never wanted to feel something like this again.

As I slowly lowered back down, pressing my face into the cool wood, I closed my eyes. He allowed me a few more seconds before returning to his godawful duties, doling out two or three more.

Another blast of agony was followed by the strangest set of sensations. No way. My throbbing pussy had become very wet. What woman was aroused by something so brutal? I had to be losing my mental faculties. But there was no mistaking my condition, the scent of my pussy juice wafting all the way to my nose.

Which meant he had a clear understanding of the state I was in. He’d likely think I’d been fibbing and that I was an experienced submissive, a masochist craving a pain fix. That much I knew. We’d studied various subcultures in college, including BDSM. The course itself had seemed odd at the time. Much like philosophy or certain math classes.

But I was grateful now I’d taken that one in particular, the professor particularly enlightening.

“You’re still doing very well. Don’t get off track, Evangeline. I’m certain you want this to be over with.” Gage was caressing my aching, heated, and likely very red skin for a second time. He was at least giving me the opportunity to breathe, allowing the agony to morph into a mild discomfort.

But when he brushed the tips of his fingers down the crack of my ass, undoubtedly attracted to my glistening pussy lips, I whimpered like a child. I might have fantasized about the man the night before, enough so I’d woken up hot and wet, but I wouldn’t consider this romantic or foreplay. Perhaps he thought otherwise, which would make him twisted.

I held my breath, shocked when he pulled his hand away. I would have thought he was the kind of man to take what he wanted. I found myself almost insulted, which was ridiculous.

“Only five more and we’re done.” Was there now a strangled raspiness to his voice? Yes, I believe there was.

Five? Why not one hundred? I almost spewed the words but also knew that wasn’t in my best interest. He was the kind of man to accept a challenge. No matter how heinous.

His exhale was exaggerated but when he started again, it was easy to tell he was totally focusing and cherishing every moment of what he was doing. I could no longer feel anything but blistering heat, which was likely very good at this point. I felt breathless, nauseous, and excited and the combination was ridiculous.

I hadn’t counted and thankfully, he hadn’t asked me to. However, when he was finished, he didn’t make a big deal about it. Meanwhile, a single tear had slipped past my lashes. I was sorry that I’d gone against the rules. It had seemed innocent enough at the time.

While I had no idea how much time had gone by, when he helped me off the desk, I immediately jerked away from him but immediately fell against the surface.

“Whoa. You’re going to be a little unsteady on your feet so just take it easy for a little while. Okay?”

He was now instructing me on how I’d feel after a round of discipline. It seemed odd but strangely comforting at the same time. I allowed him to help me stand, trying to regroup when it was next to impossible.

“Are you okay?” His question was laced with concern and all I could think about was ripping his eyeballs out.

“As okay as someone just put through torture can be.”

He chuckled. “You truly don’t understand.”

“What I understand it that BDSM is disgusting and meant to be painful and nothing else.”

His sigh was one of frustration. “That’s not true, Evangeline. There is so much difference in the world of BDSM that most people can’t fully embrace unless they’ve studied the lifestyle or lived it. Perhaps if you’re interested, I’ll show you the difference between feeling freer than you ever have in your life and what many people consider abuse.”

“No, thank you.”

I watched as he walked toward the single massive window in the office. I hadn’t paid attention, but the unhindered twinkling stars told me he had a magnificent view. He was also providing me with some privacy, which I did respect.

I still teetered on my heels, which remained on my feet. Maybe he thought spanking a woman in heels and nothing else was sexy. I fumbled in trying to slide back into the dress. Yes, it was formfitting. Yes, I was perspiring, but this was ridiculous. Immediately, the scraping of material against my bruised bottom brought another wave of sheer agony. The concept of not sitting easily, of being asked questions by my friends was daunting.

And I could say goodbye to any idea of wearing my bikini.

He’d made certain he’d issued a few strikes against my upper thighs, which meant the redness would be seen. I only prayed to God marks hadn’t been left.

I couldn’t handle the grilling the girls were good at.

When I finally had it back into position, I hissed at seeing my panties on the floor. I wasn’t certain I wanted to slide back into them, but the rush of the air conditioning was making me conscious I had very little on. I winced at every move I made in getting them into position.

“I’m finished,” I told him, uncertain if he was expecting some kind of thank you or what. There were times a man had looked across the room, our eyes engaging. There’d been a spark, a shot of limited electricity. Nine out of ten times, the attraction hadn’t come to any fruition, but I’d been lucky enough to engage in a few hot dates because of it.

That had included my ex.

But the way this man was looking at me, his eyes piercing mine was as if the man was a true carnivore dressed in fancy clothing. I found myself drawn to him even though I’d wanted to hate him. I was even walking in his direction, which didn’t seem to faze him in the least.

As he turned around, it was the first moment I realized he’d removed his jacket, his muscular arms revealing such colorful ink since he’d rolled up his sleeves. I noticed a single structured tattoo and something inside of me awakened. There was nothing more attractive in my mind than a man with ink. It was an artform, something I just adored.

Of course, it hadn’t been allowed inside Weathered Heights, the community frowning on anything gangster-like.

I felt out of breath, hating the fact I hadn’t noticed it after he’d dove into the pool. Now here I was drooling.

But the attraction was real, the desire building to a terrifying precipice. I was walking closer to him at the same time he was doing so with me. When we were only a foot away from each other, the heat between us became explosive.

The man simply took my breath away.

As we studied each other, it seemed my heart was thudding in my ears and I knew I couldn’t hate him any longer.

That’s because I wanted him.

To touch me.

Kiss me.

Taste me.

Fuck me.

Dear God, what did that make me?