Chapter 9

9

Knox

"Is she now?" Connor's smirk widens. The asshole thinks this is one big joke.

"I mean she is my employee," I growl.

He continues to grin, but steps back. Then half bows to both of us. "A pleasure, milady."

"Fuck off," I snap.

"Very eloquent, big bro, but this once, I'll do as you ask, and only because we're in such beautiful company." He winks at my assistant.

What the—! Before I can hurl some choice abuse at him, he turns and glides off. I take his place and hold out my hand.

She hesitates, but when I glare at her, she tightens her mouth then slides her fingers over mine. A tiny shudder grips her. It's strangely satisfying, knowing she's so affected by my presence. And when I pull her after me as I make my way off the dance floor, she protests. "Where are we going?"

I don't answer, continuing to lead her around the dancing couples, then weaving my way through the other guests. The men follow her progress with keen interest. I shield her as best I can from them, glowering at a few in my path until they look away. What the fuck? Why did I feel the need to stalk over and shove Connor away from her? Why do I want to gouge out the eyes of every fool here who's watching her progress? My behavior is inexplicable. My possessiveness is unfathomable. I spanked her for letting another man touch her. And now, I want to whisk her away from here and hide her where no one can see her. It was wrong to buy her this dress which fits her like a glove and embellishes her assets.

I'm going to ensure I buy the rest of her wardrobe and it'll be more modest.

"Knox… I mean, Mr. Davenport, why are you so angry?" She has to run to keep up, but the ground is even, and I know she can navigate it, so I don't let up until we're through the back door of the grand ballroom. I stalk down the long corridor and past the few other rooms that seem to be occupied. I keep going until the last door at the end of the hallway. It's closed, and when I shoulder it open, I find we're in a private study.

I doubt wedding guests are allowed in here, but what-fucking-ever. The Davenport name is meant to "open doors" on occasions like this, after all. We may not be as rich as the Royal Family, but Arthur is known to have a direct line to the King of England which can be used to smooth over any issues that might arise if we're discovered here.

There are bookcases filled with books stacked against the wall on the right. On the left is a lit fireplace; and in front of it is a rug on which there's a leather settee with an armchair next to it. Taking center stage before a casement window is a large wooden desk facing the door, a chair tucked behind it. On the desk is a tray with a jug of water and an upside-down glass. Most importantly, the room is empty.

I step in and gesture for her to enter, then shut the door after her. She takes a couple of steps forward, then her gaze darts around the room, before coming back to me.

"Why… Why did you bring me here?" she stutters.

"Why do you think?"

She locks her fingers together. "I, uh, was only talking to Connor. It was innocent."

"If I suspected otherwise, I'd have buried my fist in his face"—not caring that he's a sibling—"for messing with what's mine…" I firm my lips. "I mean, my employee ."

She wraps her arms about herself, then heads toward the fire and stares into it. For a few seconds, there's silence, then she says in a low voice, "You confuse me."

I drag my fingers through my hair. "I confuse myself when it comes to you." I'm surprised at hearing the words come out of my mouth.

So is she, for she turns to look at me over her shoulder. "Didn't expect to hear you say that."

Neither did I. I walk over to the armchair and drop into it.

"You say you're attracted to me, yet you flirt with someone else?" I give her a considering look. "Something you should be punished for."

She spins around with an incredulous expression on her features. "Flirting? I was being civil to him; that's hardly flirting ."

But I saw the admiring glint in his eyes, and damn, if that didn't make me jealous. Something I can't understand. It makes me uncomfortable to feel this way, which is why I'm going to punish you. Yeah, that makes no sense, but it makes me feel better . Not that I say any of that aloud.

"May I point out that you were the one who asked Jeeves to show me around?" She stabs a finger in my direction. "You were supposed to take me along on your networking meetings. Instead, you abandoned me."

Fuck, she's right. And I walked away from her, wanting to put distance between us. But I wasn't able to stay away. I barely had a drink at the bar. My mind was on her. So, I finally gave in and headed to the ballroom, where I noticed how every man in her vicinity was ogling her. Worse, she was animatedly talking to my brother. And jealousy reared up and had me stomping over to her before I could stop myself. She's messing with my equilibrium, and I need to find a way to get back in control. I'm in charge here, and it's time I remind her.

"Did you miss me?" I incline my head.

She huffs but doesn't deny it. I scan her features, take in the hurt expression on her face, and my heart— goddamn it —melts a little more.

"I admit, I made a mistake by leaving you."

She seems taken aback.

"But I also think you should pay for the error of your ways."

"I didn't do anything wrong." She firms her lips .

"You were flirting right back with my brother."

She blinks. "And if I was?"

"The last time you allowed another man to touch you, I punished you. Have you forgotten?" I growl.

She lowers her chin, then looks up at me from under her eyelashes. "Perhaps, I have. Perhaps, you need to remind me again of the consequences... Sir."

Her eyes gleam, and I realize, she's baiting me. Worse, I can't seem to stop myself from reacting to it. She's going to pay for it, but first, I need to set her right. "You were flirting with Connor because he reminded you of me. But there's a reason it's I'm the one you're attracted to, and not him," I declare.

Her forehead furrows. "What do you mean?"

"You need someone who'll take you in hand."

Color smears her cheeks.

"Someone who'll lay down the rules for you to follow. Someone who'll tell you what to do."

The pulse at the base of her neck increases in intensity.

"Someone who'll dominate you and take the choice away from you, so you can lean into your urges, only?—"

"Only?" she breathes.

"Only, you need to ask me for it."

Her forehead crinkles, "You want me to ask for what exactly?"

"Your punishment, of course."

She begins to speak, and I cut the air with my palm. "Don't bother denying it. It's evident from your features that you want it. The question is, are you bold enough to acknowledge what you want? And make no mistake, you need to ask for this of your own free will."

She swallows, then tips up her chin.

"You…want me to ask for it of my own free will?" She repeats my words.

A delaying tactic, but I'll allow it. I choose not to reply. Instead, I sprawl in my seat and eye her with a stern look.

"What's it gonna be, July?"

It's a testament to the preoccupation of her thoughts that she doesn't protest at the name I call her .

She flicks a look at the door, then lets out a sigh. A look of resolution comes over her features. She squares her shoulders, then takes a step toward me, and another. She comes forward until she's standing in front of me.

Thank fuck. The first time I spanked her, in the boardroom, I took a gamble. This time... I took it a step further by being upfront about what I think she needs. That she wants to be taken in hand. That she needs direction. That she yearns for a clear roadmap through which to explore her desires. And that I'm the only one to give it to her.

I could deny it, but the rage I felt on seeing her with Connor showed me, I can't ignore this attraction between us. It's a problem. And I've yet to face a problem I can't solve. I'm certainly not going to back away from this one either. So, I decided to play my hand. And now, when she approaches me to stand in front of me, I'm relieved I did.

The thought of the pleasure it will give me to see her submit to me makes me feel like I'm going to float away on a puff of smoke. I don't deserve the happiness it's going to bring me, but it's not forever, is it? Just for now, for this moment, I can make her bend to my will. Just for a few minutes, I can indulge my need for her and allow myself to feel complete. Anticipation pinches my nerve endings, but I keep it from showing on my features.

Instead, I jerk my chin. "Part your legs."

Doubt flickers in her eyes. I'm sure she's going to protest. Instead, she widens the space between her legs.

"You're doing so well," I praise her.

She shudders.

"Pull up your dress."

She casts another glance toward the door. "Anyone can come in."

"Does that turn you on?" I incline my head.

"I think it does." She swallows. "Is that crazy?"

"No more than my wanting to sniff your cunt."

In the flickering light from the fireplace, I see red stain her cheeks. Her fingers tremble as she grabs fistfuls of her dress. With a soft whisper of the fabric against her skin, she pulls up her dress until it's gathered around her waist. I get a glimpse of the white panties she has on. I make out the spot of wetness that darkens the gusset, and when I breath in deeply, I can scent the sugary sweetness of her arousal. My pulse thuds at my temples, at my wrists, even in my balls.

I continue to stare at her crotch, and her thighs tremble. A moan bleeds from her lips. The blood drains to my groin. My shoulder muscles bunch. Interesting. This reaction to her is far from usual. It makes me realize I underestimated the chemistry between us. It makes me want to push her to see how eager she is to comply with the rest of my directions.

I stretch out my right leg so it's between her feet.

"On your knees," I bark.

Instantly, she complies. She sinks to her knees without a murmur. Such a perfect submissive. I'm instantly hard. It's so fucking gratifying, to have her follow my orders.

"Take off my shoe," I order.

When she reaches for my leg and places it over her exposed thigh, it's as if there's a direct line established from there to my balls. My lower belly knots. Heat squeezes my chest. And when she slides off my shoe and places it on the floor, it's so satisfying. I know then, I can't let go of her easily.

"Good girl," I praise her.

She shudders. Her lips part. When she looks at me, there's surprise on her features.

"Feels good to follow instructions, doesn't it?"

She nods, eyes wide.

"Next, take off my sock and place it in my shoe."

She reaches under the pant-leg of my slacks, and when her fingers brush against my skin, electricity arrows up to the crown of my cock. My dick extends further, and I have to widen my stance to accommodate my arousal.

Her gaze is drawn to my crotch, and what she sees there makes her fingers tremble. A look of fear and anticipation flashes across her face. She continues to stare at the tent between my legs as she eases the sock off my foot. Her cheeks pinken, and in the flickering light of the fire, she looks adorable. She tears her gaze off the object of her attention and places the sock in my shoe.

"Well done. Now, lower your arms to your sides. "

When she does, I place the heel of my bare foot on the rug between her thighs. I raise my foot, and my big toe brushes up against her core.

She hisses. Her thighs tremble and she curls her fingers into fists.

"How does that feel?"

"It feels...good." She clears her throat. "It feels like I need more."

I nod. "Slide your underwear aside so I can see your cunt."