The Boss (18 page)

"I think I will spank you tonight, Sophie,"
he said, his voice low and full of wicked promises. "If you are a
very, very good girl."

Chapter Ten

"How do you want me
to be good, Sir?" I asked Neil. I was breathless and bare under his
gaze. My panties were absolutely plastered to my vulva, and I was
certain my skin was moments from bursting into flame. The thought
of earning what I desired, from the only man who could give it to
me, ramped up my arousal to an almost uncomfortable level.

“Answer a few of my questions. After today, I
don’t want to make any mistakes with you.” He idly traced one
fingertip around my nipple then went to the bed to sit on the edge.
“I need to know what you’re comfortable with. We can push limits
later. Tonight, we’ll start simply.”

I couldn’t believe he wanted to talk at a
time like this. Wasn’t he supposed to just throw me down and, you
know, dominate me?

“I already know how you feel about spanking,”
he said with his half- smile. “What about oral sex?”

“For me or for you?” I asked, and my clit was
screaming
for me, for me, for me!
“Because I think you
already know that I’m a big fan of having you go downtown.”

“For both of us,” he clarified. “How would
you feel about sucking my cock?”

Fuck, did he have to use that word? I was so
freaking turned-on already. “Good question.”

“Take all the time you need.”

I looked down at him and wet my lips. I
couldn't believe what I was about to say, and when I spoke, the
words didn't even sound like my own voice above the blood pounding
in my ears. "I want to. I want to suck you off and swallow your
cum.”

He lifted an eyebrow.

The safe-sex question had been bouncing
around in my mind since that afternoon, when I'd received my test
results. When would I be comfortable having unprotected sex with
Neil, assuming everything came out hunky dory on his tests, too?
And okay, maybe I should have consulted an objective party, or
considered for a few days, because my thinking on the subject was
going to be constantly clouded by horniness. But I'd decided that I
trusted him, at least about this.

Maybe not with plane tickets.

“I’d like you to wear a condom when you’re
fucking me. But I hate the taste of latex, we’ve both been recently
tested, and it’s a lower-risk activity.” I made a face. “That last
bit sounded like a pamphlet.”

“As long as we do use a condom during
intercourse, I’m comfortable with that,” Neil said after a moment.
“As for safe words, we’ve discussed red, yellow, green, but if at
any time you’re unable to verbally respond, you can signal to stop
by showing me your fist and opening and closing your palm. Can you
show me that now?”

I did as he instructed. It seemed kind of
strange to me, but the more we planned for what we were going to
do, the more turned on I got. The experience was oddly reminiscent
of being super hungry and trying to decide what to order at a
restaurant. I shifted from one foot to the other, just to feel my
panties rubbing me.

“Very good. Is there anything you wouldn’t
like to do tonight?”

I thought about it a moment. “Um, no. Not
really. And I’ll tell you if you do something I don’t like, but I’m
open to pretty much anything that’s going to feel good.”

“And is there anything in particular that you
would
like me to do to you tonight?” He stood again and
closed the distance between us, but he didn’t touch me. He just
stood there, looking down at me with his gorgeous, devious
smile.

My heart was beating somewhere in the
vicinity of my collarbones. I thought my pulse might choke me. “I
don’t want you to go too easy on me. Part of what gets me off when
I’m with you is the way you tell me to do things, the way you can
get a little rough. I don’t want you to smack the shit out of me,
but don’t treat me with kid gloves. Make me submit.”

“Is that an order?” He grinned. “That’s not
terribly submissive.”

I took a step forward, bringing my bare skin
against his, and smirked up at him. “Maybe I need a better
teacher.”

His hand came up to lightly grip my lower
jaw, his thumb pressing hard, but not painfully, into my cheek, and
I gasped.

“Do you?” His tone was completely different,
a dark, low voice that was a caress and a bite all at once. My
spine stiffened, my eyes went wide, and I shook my head as much as
I could with his hand holding my face.

“I can’t hear you, Sophie.”

“No,” I whispered, then cleared my throat.
“No, Sir.”

"I would like you to start touching
yourself." He left me and went to the bed. He watched my hand trail
down my stomach, let me get almost to the Promised Land before he
stopped me. "Not there."

I pulled my fingers guiltily from the
waistband of my panties.

"Cup your breasts," he ordered, and I did,
grateful to ease the aching pressure in them. My thumb strayed over
my nipple, and he tutted disapprovingly. "I didn't say you could do
that. Take your hands away."

"I'm sorry, Sir," I whispered, and though I
ached, I did as he’d commanded. I was dripping wet and throbbing. I
felt high, actually high, from the barest physical sensation.

He waited a long time, watching me with my
hands at my sides, making nervous fists beside my thighs. He braced
his elbows on his knees, one hand falling between them, like he was
sitting in front of a television and not a desperate, panting
woman. "You're doing very well."

"Please," I moaned. My breasts were tight and
hot, my nipples hard peaks. I had to touch them. The air in the
room hadn’t seemed chilly before, but I shivered slightly, and
goose bumps raised on my skin.

"Please what?"

"Please, Sir, let me..." What? Come? I knew
there was no way. We'd just barely started, and he’d been willing
to let me go the entire weekend. "Touch myself," I finished, my
voice a pathetic whimper.

He waited for an eternity, considering. His
gaze moved up and down my body. I swore I could feel it.

"Nothing below the waist," he said finally.
His eyes fixed on my fingers as I rolled my nipples against my
thumbs. “What do we say now, Sophie?”

“Thank you, Sir,” I groaned. Standing before
Neil, touching myself the way I was, I had this crazy thought that
I wasn’t me. I was some other Sophie, who had no rules or
obligations. No worries. No student loans. Every mundane detail of
my life melted away, and I was just some girl in some hotel room,
doing whatever it took to get fucked by the man sitting in front of
me.

Unbelievably, the familiar sensation of the
beginning of an orgasm coiled behind my clit as I pinched and
tugged my nipples. Growing bolder under his stare, I dropped my
head back with a loud moan.

"Don't come."

My eyes snapped open, and I straightened, my
fingers stilling. He was absolutely serious, a little bit cross
with me, even. Though I knew we were just pretending, excitement
licked through me like white-hot flame.

He rose and walked slowly behind me once
more. Grabbing my hips so suddenly that I gasped and staggered
slightly, he forced me to bend at the waist and brought our clothed
pelvises against each other.

"You will be allowed to come tonight. But not
yet. Not right now." My cunt clenched at his words. “You’ll beg me
to let you come, first, and then you’ll beg me to let you
stop."

Beg to stop coming? I couldn't imagine asking
for any such thing. That would be like asking to be denied air or
food. I ground back on him. He released me, one arm sliding along
mine to catch my hand and steady me on my feet.

“Get a pillow. Place it in the center of the
foot of the bed, and lay across it on your stomach with your ass
propped up.” He gripped the back of my panties and tugged them
down, just slightly. “And drop these to your knees when you’re in
place.”

I thought I might come from the friction of
walking
. I was in so much trouble. I wondered when I could
reasonably begin begging.

My hands shook as I positioned the pillow as
he’d told me. I lay down, taking a slow, deep breath as my warm
skin touched the cool white duvet.

He stood at the end of the bed, looking at
me, and I wriggled a little as I pulled my panties down. “Just to
my knees, Sir?”

“Right...” his fingertips followed my panties
from just below the curves of my buttocks, across the ticklish
backs of my thighs, to the bend in my knees. “There.”

I squirmed, my breath catching in my
throat.

One big, warm hand stroked my back, raising
tingles on my spine. When he reached my hips, he lifted his hand,
and I tensed for the first blow. But he didn’t spank me. Instead,
he gently rubbed his palm over a bare cheek. He abruptly raised his
hand again, and again I tensed. I willed myself to relax. It would
come.

“How hard do you like it?” he asked, his
fingertips skimming along my crack.

“Hard?” I asked uncertainly. “Pretty
hard?”

“Like this?” When his hand connected with my
backside, it shocked me. It was no love tap, but a stinging hot
slap. The pain spread in a delicious halo from the place where he’d
smacked me, and I jerked, muffling my groan in the bed.

"Harder or softer?" He leaned down and
brushed his lips over the burning spot he’d created.

"Harder," I whimpered.

“Excuse me?” he asked, affronted. “Harder,
Sir,” I amended. Then, “Harder,
please
, Sir.”

“Good girl, Sophie.” Another blow fell,
definitely rougher than the last. I shouted, a mixed

sound of relief and pain. Neil clucked his
tongue. “I am more than happy to spank you exactly

as hard as you wish, but we are in a hotel
room. You’ll have to keep your voice down.”

Keep my voice down?
I grinned to
myself, hiding my face in the bed. Neil didn’t care about the
neighbors, if his off-key shower concert had been any indication.
I’d read the books; I knew that a Dom might ask a sub to stay quiet
as a control exercise.

“Can you spank me again, Sir?” I asked,
pumping my hips against the pillow.

This time, the slap he gave me made me yelp
loudly in surprise.

"If you can't stay quiet, I’ll gag you," he
warned. "And don't tell me how to do my job."

“I’m sorry, Sir.” And was I ever sorry. I had
just learned a pretty important lesson about the difference between
a punishment spank and a fun one, I realized.

Neil smoothed his hand over my skin. His
fingertips eased between my cheeks, and I held my breath as they
skimmed down. “Was that hard enough for you?”

“Yes, Sir,” I moaned, moving my hips just
slightly, urging him along.

“Do you need another?” A finger slipped into
my cunt. He slowly, easily pushed in, and made a low sound in his
throat. “I think you might. Do you want one?”

I did want him to spank me again, but I
didn’t want him to stop what he was doing with his fingers.

“Ask me, Sophie. Nicely.”

“Please, Sir.” I gasped and panted, moaned
and writhed. His fingers withdrew, tracing my wetness over my
slick, swollen labia. He parted me gently, circling the opening of
my vagina, dipping in just barely, retreating, dipped in again,
deeper, more with each maddeningly slow motion, until my legs were
trembling.

Then he stopped, his hand resting in exactly
the right place, doing exactly the wrong thing. No movement, no
penetration, no friction, and I screamed my frustration into the
duvet.

He did spank me then, harder than the last
times, and I couldn’t help my cry of mingled pain and fulfilled
anticipation.

“I told you to keep quiet.” His fingers
withdrew, and with that hand he grabbed my hair and wound a length
of it around his fist, jerking my head back. He balled up my
sopping panties and pushed them against my mouth.

I had no illusions as to what he was going to
do with those panties. I could smell my arousal on them, knew that
his fingers were still smeared with my juices even as they tangled
in my hair. Never in my life had I felt so dirty, so utterly nasty
and depraved. I'd also never been so fucking turned on. I groaned,
"Green," and he pushed my panties into my mouth.

"Remember the signal,” he reminded me,
opening and closing his palm before my eyes.

He spanked me again, the sound of his skin on
mine making a resounding crack in the quiet hotel room. His fingers
pushed into my cunt, and I clenched around him. I was going to
come. There was no doubt in my mind. My body was on fire, my hips
bucking, a high, thin wail building up in me. All of the thick, hot
feelings in my pussy merged into one wave of sensation, and just as
the wave was about to crest, he stopped.

"Not yet, Sophie."

I shuddered, physically stopping myself from
tumbling over a precipice. My toes curled. Calves cramped. I wanted
to climax, needed it like I needed air. I supposed I could still
come; I was so close that a deliberate arousing thought would tip
the scales. But it wouldn’t have been nearly as satisfying as
obeying orders and seeing exactly how far he would take this.

"Stand up."

My clit ached with longing. He wasn't going
to finish me off? A hysterical sob welled in my chest as I got to
my feet, but his intent became clear when he said, "Get on your
hands and knees in the middle of the bed."

I did as I was told, breathing hard through
my nose. A drop of perspiration trembled on my lip, and my mouth
was slightly open to accommodate the balled-up panties inside.

I stayed still on the bed while he went to
the nightstand for a condom. I listened, my hearing crazily tuned
into his movements, his position in the room. I heard his breathing
speed up just a moment before he knelt on the bed behind me. Then
his hands fell to my hips, pulling me back. My flesh was swollen
and slick, and he rubbed the wide tip of his cock up and down my
slit a few times, coating the latex that covered him until it was
good and slippery. He nudged my clitoris once, twice, and I tried
to push back, but his hand on the small of my back stopped me.