In His Cuffs (15 page)

Mindful he was waiting, she channelled her concentration into getting ready for him. She took a sip of the dry white wine. She was sure the vintage was excellent, but she put it down after one sip, too nervous to drink much of it. After pulling off her shoes, she entered the closet—her closet—to remove everything else. Not only had he provided an assortment of hangers, but there was a built-in chest of drawers.

Now that she was naked, she couldn’t resist showering. She grabbed an oversized towel from one of the drawers. With the way they were so precisely folded and stacked, she wondered if he had a housekeeper. If not, he was more fastidious than she’d believed.

The waterfall shower invigorated her. Since she’d drained the hot water tank, she hoped he had no plans beyond a cold shower, if he needed one.

Her heart hammered as she descended the staircase, her hand curved around the chrome banister.

She heard the sounds of splashing water as she neared the living room. Chilled air whispered across her skin, pebbling her nipples. At least that’s what she told herself—it might have been the anticipation churning in her that caused the reaction.

He was on the couch, one arm across the back, a fresh glass of wine in the other. “Stand there,” he said, pointing.

An overhead skylight lit the hardwood floor, and she welcomed the warmth.

“As sexy as your clothes are, I like to see all of you. It’s tempting to keep you here, nude and chained for my pleasure.”

She looked at him, unable to ascertain whether or not he was joking.

He slid his drink onto the square coffee table and picked up a pair of clamps. She frowned. She’d been honest that she started with a light weight and worked her way up, but it didn’t appear she would feel these little pieces of plastic at all. Boring.

“Put your hands behind your head and spread your legs as far apart as you can without causing cramps.”

She got into position, aware of him watching her. He stood and walked towards her. He reached between her legs and played with her pussy.

In response, she angled her pelvis towards him, offering more and hoping for an orgasm.

Shocking her, he tugged on her labia and attached the clamps. “
God.
”

“My thoughts exactly,” he said, stepping back.

No way would they have aroused her nipples, but on her most tender flesh, they burned.

“Bend over and grab your ankles. I want to inspect your body.”

Knowing better than to argue with a Dom, she followed his instructions.

He moved behind her. “You have one small bruise above your knee. How are your arms?”

“Unblemished.”

“You sound disappointed.”

“I am.”

“You want to show up for work on Monday with a few bruises to remember me by?”

She was glad her hair curtained her face so she couldn’t see him. It emboldened her. “Yes.”

“Since you don’t bruise easily, I’m not as concerned about playing for an extended period of time,” he said.

“As long as you think you are capable of handling me all by yourself, Mr Tomlinson.” She knew she was skating close to the line between teasing and disrespect. Part of her didn’t want to cross it, but the naughty part of her, the one hurt by his actions, urged her to be reckless. As much as she hated to admit it, the fact he’d all but ignored her since their scene at her condo had irritated her. There was no reason he couldn’t have contacted her after work hours.

“I think I’m up for the challenge.” He tugged on her clamps.

Yelping, she released her ankles briefly then, realising what she had done, grabbed them again.

“Do you have something to say, Maggie?”

Was he a mind reader all of a sudden? “No, Sir.”

“You know, little submissive, you can ask for what you want. I was serious the other day when I told you I’d put you in a corner with your nose against the wall for your misbehaviour.”

As it had before, the threat frightened her. She’d never been one for timeouts. Being separated from those she cared about while they went on with their lives was emotionally debilitating. “I… I apologise, Mr Tomlinson.”

“Just so we’re clear, that will be my discipline of choice. I don’t think a punishment spanking would work with you.”

She shivered.

“Maggie?”

“I think it might be more effective than you realise. Anything that has caused your anger would upset me.” She struggled for words. “It’s different.”

“Agreed. But you’d have a mark to remember it, and you might get off on that.”

How well he knew her.

“I will never touch you in anger or until we’ve had the chance to speak. I urge you to talk to me about anything that bothers you. Come to me, Maggie. Trust me. We can work through anything as long as we do it together.”

She was starting to get dizzy from being upside down. Her pussy pulsed from the clamps and, even though they were together, she felt distant.

“Tell me you understand.”

“I do, Mr Tomlinson.”

“Save yourself from my wrath by hiding nothing from me.”

“You’re asking a lot.”

“No more than what I’m willing to give.” He kept her there for another few minutes in silence, likely giving her a chance to reflect on his words, before he relented. “You may stand.”

Once she had done and had placed her hands behind her head, he said, “I’ll repeat myself. Since your comment was out of line, is there anything you need to discuss?”

“I…”

He sat on the couch, glass of wine once again in hand.

“I thought I wanted to pretend we’d never been together. It’s harder than I’d imagined.”

“Even when your mother and the staff have nothing kind to say about me?”

Her blood froze. “Are you angry with me?” If so, why had he invited her here?

“Not at all. I wouldn’t agree to scene with you if I was angry. You deserve only a scene in which the Dom is calm. I’m disappointed. I had hoped the staff would have learnt we’re on the same team.”

Even though the criticism wasn’t aimed at her, it stung, mostly because he made an excellent point. She had defended him, but she should have been doing that from the beginning rather than participating in the gossip. “Is that why you’ve avoided me all week?”

“Is that what’s bothering you?” he countered.

“Yes.” She exhaled. “I missed you.”

“Fuck.” He leant forwards and placed the glass of wine on the table top. “Maggie, if you think this is easier for me than it is you, you’re wrong. You were the one who came to my office and laid down the expectations before that scene. I was trying to abide by your wishes when what I wanted to do was bend you over and spank you for wearing stockings and a garter belt to work.”

His admission comforted her in a way she hadn’t expected. “I didn’t sleep well last night,” she admitted.

“You will tonight.”

Again, that confidence, assuredness, arrogance. He undid her.

“How difficult was it to unburden yourself?”

“Not as bad as I feared,” she confessed.

“Remember this. Turn to me, not from me.”

“Again, Sir, you have no idea what you’re asking of me.” She hadn’t had anyone to look after her before, and had never had a sexual relationship where she felt free to unburden herself.

“A few turns in the corner might add some incentive.”

Maggie shivered.

“Sub’s choice. If we’re going to do this on a regular basis, I demand your honesty. If you cannot offer it, I can’t trust you. If you don’t like my rules, you can safe word out and leave at any time.”

“Ah…”

“Question?”

“If I use my safe word, I have to leave?”

“God, no. I’m just saying you have the ultimate power. I have none beyond what you give me. Understand?”

The ease with which he’d discerned something was wrong then uncovered it should have upset her. Instead, it liberated her. She’d never known anyone who cared enough to even try. All the other men, whether in a scene or a vanilla relationship, had allowed her to hide. He was unnerving.

“I need you to touch me.” The clamps now burned as much as his physical distance chafed.

“Nothing would please me more.” He moved his drink to the floor and slid it against the couch for protection. Then he opened the top of the coffee table.

An array of spanking implements rested on black velvet. “That’s a clever toy box, Mr Tomlinson.”

“Another of Master Marcus’ functional designs. He seems inspired these days.”

“I’d say.” Who needed a dungeon when you could keep all your naughty secrets hidden in plain sight?

He looked at her.

“This was why you checked me for bruises,” she said.

“You’re onto my nefarious plan. I planned to make my selection with care.”

Despite the tension, she smiled. He returned it. The shared moment made the world seem as if it were back on its axis.

He chose a tawse.

“That’s serious, Sir.”

“Any objection?”

She licked her dry lips. Thrill and trepidation churned a potent mixture in her stomach. “Hell no.”

“I didn’t think there would be.” After closing the lid, he instructed, “Over my lap.”

“Yes, Mr Tomlinson.”

“Crawl to me.”

That wasn’t something she’d ever been instructed to do. She’d never understood the appeal. But once she had lowered herself to all fours, comprehension dawned. Being on the floor changed her perspective, making her mindful of her submissiveness. Her body moved in a different way. Her breasts hung low, her hips swayed and the addition of the clamps exposed her pussy.

“I like having you naked and on your knees,” he said. “That’s how I’ll keep you.”

When she looked up and saw the approval in his electric blue eyes, she was convinced he meant what he said. The way he perused her made her insides melt.

She draped herself over his knee, and he jostled her so that her ass was high.

“As you know, this will be worse than the flogger or my hand and likely worse than my belt. There’s no shame in needing a break or requesting something else.”

“I understand.”

“You may hold onto my leg if you need to.”

The wait seemed interminable.

She’d hoped he’d get on with it, but he rubbed and teased her before applying the rigid leather thong to her skin.

The first stroke across her butt stole her breath.

She’d only experienced a tawse once before, and it had never been as debilitating as this.

The pain screamed through her body and she knew it had left a scorching mark across her skin. The clamps were uncomfortable, intensifying the sensation.

He paused, and she took a breath to compose herself.

“When you’re ready, put your ass back up in the air.”

“Yes, Mr Tomlinson,” she said. It took her another few seconds to comply.

He was ruthless and methodical. There was nothing random about the way he moved lower with each stroke. Knowing what to expect didn’t make it easier to take. He paused between each hit, and she was grateful for the respite, something she’d never before needed during a spanking.

She screamed when he caught the backs of her knees.

“Gorgeous colour of red,” he told her.

For a moment, she considered using her slow word, but the immediacy of the pain faded, leaving behind the familiar and welcomed sense of satisfaction.

“On your toes, sub,” he instructed. “Turn your toes in a little so I have better access.”

Earlier this week, from the soothing rhythm of his belt, she’d reached subspace. She wouldn’t get there this time, she knew. This was beyond anything she’d experienced.

“Maggie,” he prompted.

“Sir…” Thoughts were more difficult to string together than they ever had been.

“Do you need me to repeat myself?”

His voice didn’t vibrate with hostility, instead he was calm, probing. With great concentration, she recalled his instruction. She dug the balls of her feet into the floor beneath her and used the leverage to rise up and spread her legs.

“Can you endure another ten?”

She wasn’t sure. No doubt she could have if she didn’t know how many were coming. But ten? After what she had already been through? At this point, she wasn’t sure where her limit was.

“For me,” he said.

If she looked at him with his chiselled, stern cheekbones, she would be lost. With her eyes closed, she considered her decision.

“You can set the pace by how quickly you get back into position.”

She was learning she could deny this man nothing. “Give me your best, Mr Tomlinson.” Even she heard the bravado in her statement.

“You’re brave, Maggie.”

He blazed the first one on her right thigh. She lowered herself as she waited for the agony to recede. He hadn’t caught both thighs and diminished the impact. Instead, he’d intensified it.

Gritting her teeth, she signalled she was ready for the next.

“It’s okay to cry,” he told her as he laid into her again.

“No way, Sir,” she responded. She meant it. At this point, it was a matter of pride.

The third and fourth hits from the stern implement almost destroyed her resolve. He’d told her she could hold onto his leg, so she did. It was more a death grip than for balance.

He was deliberate with his placement, delivering more pain than she’d ever experienced. She’d heard there was a specific way to use a tawse, and he’d mastered it.

“Almost there,” he said. “Three more.”

The relentless assault continued, each swat jarring the clamps and making her pussy sore.

“Last one,” he told her.

Since she couldn’t move, he positioned her ass where he wanted it.

“That’s it.”

The crack across her ass reverberated through the room, joined by her scream.

He tossed the tawse on the coffee table and gathered her close to him.

She turned her cheek against him, into him and sought refuge in his solid muscles and the softness of his cotton shirt.

Tears she refused to release stung her eyes, and she blinked them back. She trembled and shook, and he held her.

The spanking had humbled her.

Until him, she had refused aftercare. But the other night at her condo, she’d surrendered to it. Being vulnerable in those first few minutes after such an intense experience had made the experience richer. She didn’t have to savour it alone like she had always done.