‘You disobeyed, and now you’ll be punished.’ Flynn flipped the shirt – his shirt, damn it – up, revealing her bare bottom. She barely had time to register what he was doing when the first spank landed.
The blast of pain shocked her. For a moment, she could barely comprehend what was happening. The second blow restored her to her situation.
He was spanking her. Flynn Grant was spanking her.
The third spank landed in a blaze of pain that caused her to jerk against the table. The hand on her back held her in place.
‘You bastard!’ She finally found her voice.
‘You bastard is masochist for “thank you”,’ he said, not bothering to hide the satisfaction in his tone. A fourth spank landed, this time on the other cheek. The sting was extraordinary. This was nothing like the club and definitely nothing like her fantasies.
‘You can’t do this.’ She gasped the words out from her ignominious position.
‘I can and I will.’ Whap! Again.
‘I’ll have you fired.’ He ignored her and kept going.
‘You disobeyed –’ another spank ‘– a direct –’ another one, this time harder than before ‘– order.’ This spank was harder again.
He was getting into a rhythm, hitting left and right, punctuating each spank with a lecture on her shortcomings, delivered in that maddeningly reasonable voice.
She yelled and cursed, trying to kick him, scratch him,
anything to break up that inexorable rhythm. He caught her wrists and held them in the small of her back.
She wanted to howl. This hurt. It was nothing like she had imagined a spanking would be. But there was something about Flynn’s strength, his determination, that turned her to mush. When was the last time a man had just imposed his will on her? She couldn’t remember. Despite herself, a flicker of arousal stirred. A tiny, primitive, cavewoman part of her gloried in his domination.
She was not going to get out of this. She knew it. He was going to punish her for breaking his rule. Something inside her softened, relaxed into the spanking. She continued to curse, but without any expectation that he would be affected by any names she called him or threats she made.
It was curiously freeing. The decision had been made. She was being spanked. She relaxed still more. Without her volition, her legs parted, allowing her to sink down more comfortably onto the table. This position made her more vulnerable even while she was more secure.
Summer wondered what would happen if she used her safe word. He might stop. She didn’t want to risk it. ‘Bully,’ she hissed instead.
The spanking continued.
Now her pussy was exposed, and she could feel wetness down her thighs. She couldn’t be aroused. This hurt. But the pain was merging into a different sensation, a bright sparkling prickle that surrounded her body. Unconsciously, she tilted her hips a little more, offering herself more fully to that rock-hard hand.
She needed something, but she had lost the ability to think. Words had deserted her. She could only feel, and she sank deeper; the table and Flynn’s hard hands the only reality in her universe.
Close, she was so close. ‘Mmm,’ she murmured. That wasn’t right. She was on the edge of something. ‘Please,’ she managed.
Everything stopped. The silence was shocking. Her ears had become accustomed to the steady smack of his hand against her bottom. What had happened?
She forced her eyes open and looked around.
Flynn was standing back from the table. His hands were steady, but there was a dark flush on his sharp cheekbones. ‘That’s enough. You’ve been punished.’
She shifted against the table. She was so close. Now she could recognize the rise to orgasm, and she was almost there. It would only take a touch to send her over. She pressed down against the table edge.
Then Flynn was there, helping her to straighten up, pulling her shirt down to cover her decently and holding her, as her unsteady legs were not up to the job. She was torn between begging him to continue and being mortified at the idea that he might know how close to climax she was.
She raised her head. Flynn’s face was flushed and his nostrils were wide. He might claim this was a punishment for her, but he was affected too. Did he know what he had done to her? She caught the flicker of triumph in his eyes.
‘You stopped deliberately.’ She couldn’t believe it.
His voice was steady. ‘As I said, you’ve been punished.’
He turned away. ‘I’ll make breakfast this morning. You can set the table.’
Flynn kept a close eye on Summer for the rest of the day. She had needed that spanking but he wished it hadn’t been a punishment. He’d much rather have given her a slow, sensual, over-the-knee spanking where he could warm her up and see how far he could push her.
She had surprised him. He chuckled silently. There had been nothing passive about Summer when she was being spanked. He hadn’t realized she even knew some of the names she had called him. So much for a convent education!
It had taken her a long time to realize that she was going to get spanked, no matter what she said. Did she really think that she could ride roughshod over him the way she did with everyone else in her life? He hadn’t missed the way her body had softened halfway through, when she accepted that he was in charge.
Something in Summer had responded to that giving up of control.
He made breakfast for her, fried eggs and mushrooms. It wasn’t as elegant as Summer would have done but it was food. She winced slightly as she sat down and shot an accusing glance at him, but didn’t complain. Not even when she found a bit of eggshell in her eggs.
He considered taking her out for some self-defence training, but decided she would be too sore to concentrate. Instead, they foraged for wild food, with Flynn keeping a wary eye for the wildcat that had killed the rabbit. Summer
picked wild garlic, dandelion leaves and nettles. She determinedly didn’t mention the spanking and concentrated on her hunt, but the edge that often sharpened her voice was gone.
She was full of energy and insisted on extending the search into the woodlands.
Later, she cooked dinner, showing off her ability to make a rabbit stew served with wild leaves. Afterwards she washed up without a single dig about lazy men. Until she pricked her finger on a sharp knife and burst into uncharacteristic tears.
Sub drop. Flynn had been expecting it and cuddled her while she cried herself out. He rocked her in his arms and fought against the desire to hold her like this every evening.
As he had expected, Summer crashed that evening. One minute she was arguing about the ethics of fur, the next she was yawning and slumped against him. She didn’t even put up a fight when he sent her to bed. It always amazed him how much a spanking could take it out of a girl.
He climbed into bed when he was certain she was asleep, still unsure what to do. This was the perfect point to put a distance between them. After this morning, she wasn’t filled with soft and fluffy feelings. It would take very little to have her really pissed at him.
She rolled against him in her sleep. Her sweetly rounded butt nestled into his groin with predictable results. On the other hand, he thought, could he really resist her?
That damned wildcat seemed to have found a new hobby – annoying him. At least once every hour, it tripped the perimeter alarm, sending him out to check that it was only the cat and not a tango.
When he came in from his fifth fruitless chase through the woods, he decided that he would have to reset the perimeter alarms to allow the cat to come and go as it pleased, or he would have to get rid of the cat. That wasn’t an option he wanted to take. So he went out a sixth time, chasing after it again.
At least it had got Summer into the habit of staying put
when he told her. When she complained about being stuck indoors while it rained, he told her that they would be doing blow jobs 101 that evening.
As dinnertime approached, he could see her getting more nervous. For someone who was normally neat and competent in the kitchen, she was all thumbs and dropped two eggs. She stared at the smashed yolks on the wooden floor and looked as if she was about to burst into tears.
‘Here.’ He handed her a small glass of his favourite tipple. Niall had sent him a bottle and he had been saving it. This seemed as good an occasion as any.
‘What is it?’ she asked, wiping an unexpected dampness from her eyes.
‘Baileys.’ She took a sip and allowed the sweet, creamy taste to wash over her tongue. ‘Don’t laugh,’ he told her. ‘I get enough hassle from the guys about it.’
‘You do?’
‘Sure. It’s not a macho drink. In fact, there was a case in the Cameroon where two guys were arrested for looking gay because they ordered Baileys in a bar.’
She took another sip. ‘I can’t imagine that anyone would look at you and think that.’
He grinned back at her. ‘You’re about to find out. Let’s eat.’
After dinner, he stoked up the fire and spread all the quilts in front of it. He had been considering the best way to introduce Summer to the pleasures of a good blow job. The woman kneeling in front of the man was traditional because it was a great position, but he suspected it would set all sorts of alarm bells ringing for her. So he stripped off his clothes and lay down in front of the fire.
She was sitting at the table, determinedly holding onto her glass. He patted the quilt beside him. ‘Come and join me. You can’t reach me from over there.’
She squared her shoulders and rose. ‘What do I do?’
‘Whatever you like. Do what appeals to you, and I’ll guide you as you learn.’
She sat down beside him, still fully clothed, and reached out a tentative hand to his chest. For someone who had already seen so much of him, she was surprisingly shy.
‘Oh, one thing before we start,’ he told her. ‘I won’t come in your mouth.’
That took her attention away from his nipples. ‘Why not? I thought this was about teaching me to like the taste.’
‘That comes later. You have to earn the right for me to come in your mouth.’
‘WHAT?’
He ignored her outrage. ‘Think of it as a sort of graduation ceremony. When you get really good at blow jobs, then I will.’
‘It’s great to be a Dom,’ she grumbled but he could see the tension easing in her.
He allowed her to lick and kiss her way down his torso. His cock, always interested when Summer was around, was already erect and hard. She had started kneeling beside him, but when he didn’t pounce on her, she lay down so that she was closer to him.
She laid her head on his abs, tracing the line of hair from his navel down to his groin, and examining the head of his cock from close quarters. The top of it was shiny with a drop of pre-cum. Summer leaned closer and licked it off.
‘That’s all you are going to get until you earn it,’ he told her.
She glared at him, and then returned her attention to his cock. Visibly bracing herself, she took it in her hand. Her fingers were cool and he jerked. God, this was going to be torture.
‘A little tighter,’ he told her. ‘That’s it.’
She obeyed, and then explored the different textures of his cock and balls. Then she leaned down and sucked in the crown.
Flynn fought to keep his eyes from crossing. He would never get tired of her mouth. ‘Good girl,’ he said with an effort. ‘No sucking yet. Just let it get comfortable in your mouth. Swirl your tongue over it.’
She did, and he had to take a deep breath to control the urge to thrust. Instead he lay back and allowed her to get used to the feel of him in her mouth. She moved her head to a different angle, so that she could explore the sensitive underside with her tongue. Unbidden, she began to suck.
Flynn threaded his hand into her hair and pulled her back. ‘No, we haven’t got to that stage yet. First, you’re going to do a lot of licking. Make friends with it.’
‘You’re kidding me,’ she said, but she did what he said. Her agile tongue danced up and down, making his cock wet and slippery. When she brought her hands into play as well, and caressed his balls at the same time, he had to fight to stay in control.
Seeing Summer like this did things to his insides, twisted them in complicated ways he didn’t want to deal with. He had planned this little lesson to get back in the driving seat and remind Summer that she had to obey him, for now at
least. But this was backfiring badly. Summer had the power to turn him into her slave if he didn’t get a grip.