Becoming Sir (19 page)

Making himself a snack, he settled in to finally look over the hard limits which were not listed out, but written in. Kerian had stated to choose one, but coincidentally there was only one hard limit to choose from.

“I’m deeply afraid of being unable to breathe . My last boyfriend was a mean drunk. He knew I was mildly asthmatic and would hold me down and try to strangle me as some sort of cruel joke. The idea of a hand near my throat or any sort of breath play is an unbreakable hard limit for me.”

Sawyer’s heart sank
and his stomach cramped at the thought of breath play. He had read about it briefly and knew that it carried serious risks, including death. It was ironic how just hours before he was considering violently murdering someone, yet again, but doing something like sexual asphyxiation under a controlled setting was completely out of the question.

He picked up his phone and dialed Dylan
and who had no sooner answered when Sawyer started talking.

“Do you have experience with breath play?”

“Yes, but it’s been a long time since I’ve seriously done it, years actually; before Isa. Why? You interested in that?”

“No, but I’ve been asked to push Ciara’
s hard limits. Damn Kerian,” he said in a dull and troubled voice.

“
That’s a tough one. Well, I can speak with Isa and see if she’s up for a demonstration. We’ve only played around with it very mildly, but for you, I’m sure we can work something out.”

“Thanks, Young. I hate to ask…”

“
Why? You know you can ask for anything. It’s good for us to venture out into new things, too, so this is a good chance for us as well. I’ll call her right now. When did you want start practicing?”

“
I have to scene with Ciara this weekend so as soon as possible. I have a dinner date with Sarah tonight but how about tomorrow?”

“Sounds good. I’ll see you at work tomorrow and we can go over things.”

Right after his conversation he texted Sarah and sent the company driver to pick her up while he made his condo presentable for female company. Just as he was unloading the dishwasher, she arrived. Opening the door, he was flooded with the same feelings he had felt the night he kissed her. He had missed her eyes. Inhaling deeply, he savored her scent. He had missed that, too.

“Snowflake,” he whispered seductively, his cock hardening to nearly full-staff. What was it about her that evoked such intense emotions? He had no idea and he didn’t care either. Clutching her upper arm, he pulled her into the doorway and wrapped a hand behind
her neck, bringing her so close he could feel her breath on his mouth.

“Mr. Morrison,” Sarah stated softly, her brows knitting together.

“What happened to
Sir
?”

“Okay. Sir. I have everything I need
to make you dinner right here,” she looked down at the bags in her hands. “I hope you like seafood alfredo. It’s one my specialties,” she moved past him, pulling out of his grip.

Inside, she laughed a little. “Actually, it’s my only specialty. I wish I made it more often but seafood can be pricey as you know.”

“I hope this didn’t set you back too much. In fact, let me reimburse you the cost,” Sawyer replied.

Sarah’s eyes flashed embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to
suggest I wanted you to pay me back. I’ve been working plenty of overtime and I can afford this.”

“Of course. Thank you, Snowflake,” he quickly let the subject go, but made a mental note to never assume such things again. Sarah worked hard and he didn’t want her spending her money on him.
“Do you need my help with anything?”

Sarah visibly relaxed and began to set everything out. “No. Just point me in the direction of your cookware and I’ll get everything ready.”

After putting on some music, he settled into his oversized leather chair, turning it to face the small kitchen so he could watch Sarah at work. On occasion, she would glance up at him and smile. He was deep in thought about his upcoming scene with Ciara when she chimed in.

“That chair fits you, Domly One. It’s like a king’s throne,” she giggled.

“Yes, I guess it sort of is. Why don’t you hurry up and come join me. There’s enough room in this thing for two,” he grinned waywardly.

“The King’s throne isn’t meant to be shared,” she commented without any em
otion. “And neither is the King. Not that you care,” she stated more softly, turning away to wash her hands.

Sawyer stood and walked over
to Sarah quietly, taking her by surprise when he whirled her body around. “Would you care to elaborate on that last statement?”

Sarah brusquely pulled out of his clutches and pushed past him, “No, I wouldn’t. Take it however you want.”

Reeling from Sarah’s coldness, irritation quickly set in. Was this jealousy on her part? If it was, then why the hell wouldn’t she just state her feelings. She was the one who was pushing the issue of open and honest communication, after all.

T
hey were under contract and her actions were unacceptable. No, actually they weren’t under contract – yet. He walked into his office and retrieved the contract. A few minutes later, he found Sarah setting the timer on the pasta.

“Shall we sign it?” he asked, handing her a pen.

Without saying anything, she grabbed the pen and scrawled her name, and again turned away from Sawyer. He penned his name and without any further hesitation, he grabbed a hold of her wrist and swung her around.

“Now that it’s official, I can act on it. Being my
submissive you agreed to show an attitude of respect and reverence to me at all times, and refusing to answer my question after you made an ambiguous remark, in my eyes, is not only disrespectful, but rude. I’m not a mind reader so if you have something to say about how you feel, then say it. Also, I don’t like you pulling away from me and turning your back on me. How many swats do those actions deserve, Sarah? One? Two? Is that enough?” he asked crisp and clear, his heated stare burning into her.

Sarah’s bottom lip trembled but she shook her head in response. “No, Sir,
that isn’t enough.”

“You’re the experienced one
here, so how many is appropriate?”

Her
eyebrows pinched together and she glared at the floor, “Ten, Sir. Ten sounds fair,” she sniffed.

Jesus. Ten? He
wasn’t sure that sounded reasonable either. No, five would have to do. Okay, six just to make it an even number. Oh, hell. There was no going back now. She had written the damned agreement and now they would both have to abide by it.

“Six will suffice
. Let’s do this.”

Sawyer seated himself in the chair and motioned for Sarah. Standing directly in front of him, she
removed her panties and lifted her skirt over her hips. She then leaned over his knee, tucking her feet under one of his legs and hiding her face against her arms that were folded neatly over the arm of the chair. Damn, her ass was a fine sight. Having her splayed out on his lap was an exhilarating thing. It wasn’t only empowering but arousing, despite the reason for her being there.

He
caressed her bottom and almost wavered. He’d rather fuck her ass than punish it. Why did she have to be so disrespectful to him? Counting down from ten slowly, he slowed his heart rate, and steadied his breathing. He swept her long hair over her shoulder and out of the way and brought his hand up.

Peeking over her shoulder, Sarah’s
bright, tear-filled eyes met his. “Shall I count them out, Sir?”

“Yes, that’s fine,” he whispered, not giving a shit one way or the other. He held his hand in midair for what felt like an ete
rnity. He didn’t want to harm his Snowflake, but knew it had to be done.  She had broken her word and consequences had to be faced.

“
Do it, Sir. The soft, fleshy part or the crease is where it’s most effective without causing damage,” she stated confidently, the tone of her sweet voice motivating him onward. 

Finally, he brought his hand down, the sting on his palm and the sharp skin-on-skin sound making him wince
and Sarah gasp out.

“One,” she sputtered out when she caught her breath.

When he pulled his hand back to see the damage he had done. The red imprint on Sarah’s ass simultaneously tore at his heart and invigorated him. But still, he knew there was no way in hell he could’ve delivered ten swats. He would be lucky if he could go through with the six he had proposed. Pushing forward, he smacked her five more times, alternating each time where he swatted her and each time, Sarah dutifully counting them out.

When it was all over, he
yanked her up and into his arms and buried his face in her neck, surprised and even dismayed that he had been able to go through with what he had just done.

“Don’t ever make me
do that to you again. Promise me you’ll follow the rules…” His voice was stern but caring. When she didn’t answer him quickly enough, he pulled back and held her head between his large hands. “I won’t tolerate breaking the rules, Snowflake. Now tell me,” he said more firmly.

Sarah’s
kind gaze bore into him as tears trembled on her eyelashes. “You’re a true Dom, Sawyer Morrison; kind yet stern, and a man of his word. I fear there is nothing I can teach you.”

A pain squeezed his heart and he tried to swallow the lump that had formed
in his throat, “Don’t say that. I have so much more to learn. I need you to teach me.”

“Don’t be angry, but w
hat I just did was to test your ability to follow through. I would never truly disrespect you the way I did and it wounded me to have to go through with it, but…”

Sawyer sat back, his mouth twisting into a fr
own. “You did that on purpose to try and get me to punish you?”

A look of sincere sorrow passed over her features and shimmered in her eyes. “It was a
trial, Sawyer. Please don’t be angry with me.”

Takin
g in a sharp breath, Sawyer blew it out slowly. He hated to admit it, but it was a necessary evil in his training. He had proven not only to his trainer but to himself that despite what he thought about his own abilities, he could go through with punishment if push came to shove and if his dominance was questioned. Her actions also proved to him that she wasn’t jealous like he had initially thought and he couldn’t help but feel more than a little let down.

“I should give you the
remainder of those swats just for putting me through that,” he finally spoke, shaking his head.

Sarah stood, placed her hands on her thighs and pushed her ass out to him. “It would be my pleasure to accept them, Domly One,” she managed a tremulous smile.

Faced with her plump and supple ass, he was unable to resist and flicked his wrist as he spanked Sarah two more times on each cheek. Still watching him, a loving curve touched her mouth and a small excited moan slipped past her lips. Instinctively, his hands lightly traced a path over her exposed skin and down her ass crack, the tip of his index finger resting over her anus.

“I was introduced to anal sex this weekend, Snowflake. I’ve taken quite a liking to it,” he leaned forward, his tongue skimming
where he finger had just been. Sarah’s thighs squeezed together and she attempted to straighten up, but his hands found the soft lines of her waist and hips, and rigidly held her in place.

“No worries, I would never take
that which isn’t offered to me. Now, spread your legs and stay just like this, Sarah, and let me enjoy the vision of this glorious ass in front of me while I examine you thoroughly.”

“Yes, Sir,”
she wet her lips timidly, watching his every movement.

Sawyer ran his thumb deliciously
up and down her ass crack to her clit, pausing briefly to dip it into her pussy. He then spread her ass cheeks and leaned in to slip his tongue into her pussy from behind.

“Oh, God, Sawyer…” she
groaned when his tongue explored her depths.

“You taste pure and clean – like freshly fallen snow,”
he smirked at his own comparison to her nickname.

Hi
s lips traced a sensuous path of ecstasy over to her hips where he delivered several small, gentle bites. Abruptly, he stood her up and spun her around. Staring up into her eyes, he nibbled her smooth, hairless labia, the tip of his tongue slipping in and tickling her clit. Just then, the timer dinged loudly, startling them both and making them laugh.

Sarah promptly redressed and went to the food to finish preparing it.
Completely hard, Sawyer excused himself to try and get his erection under control. When he returned, the food was decoratively plated at his small bistro table.

“Do you have anything st
ronger to drink than tea?” she asked, peering into the refrigerator.

He
rubbed the back of his neck then ran his palm over his face. Should he tell her about the whiskey in the closet? If he told her then he would have to explain why it was there and about his alcoholism.

“Yes,
there’s some J.D. in the closet.”