21

Bobby
I wake wishing I spent the night with Lexi. I’m horny as hell for her. Remembering how hot she looked last night as she took her punishment has me sprouting a full erectionone I have to go into the shower to take care of.
I meant what I said about doing anything for her. I’m still riding the high of our scene last night. The satisfaction of Lexi’s submission. The bond we formed.
I’ve had submissives before-pain sluts who like it dirty. Or who like it during sex but can’t take real punishment. And I’ve also had women who didn’t want to submit to my authority but took it because they wanted my money. Stacy fell into that category. She sulked and made a big deal if I spanked her, even though she consented. I can be a dick, and I want things my way, but I’m not a total bastardit’s not like I forced her.
But Lexi’s so different. First of all, she’s more than a sexy body-she has a brain and a real personality. She’s not the type to share her body just for a luxury apartment. I shouldn’t be happy for her misfortune, but I know if she wasn’t so desperate, she wouldn’t have given me the time of day.
Maybe she never would have known she liked a dominant lover. Because I suspect I’m her first, and her body’s responses to my authority surprise her. But I don’t know how she’ll feel about what happened last night in the light of day. Playful spanking’s one thing, real punishment another. Just because she accepted it at the time doesn’t mean it’ll sit right with her the next day.
Which is why I should have stayed the night.
I hang around until my daughters are up, checking in with them about their plans for the day, then I take the additional cash Lexi needs to pay the whole debt off out of my safe and head over to the apartment.
I use my own key to get in and find her eating a bowl of cereal on the couch in a bralette and tiny pajama shorts. She looks good enough to eat.
“Good morning!” She jumps up in surprise, gathering up her cereal bowl, coffee mug and another plate from the coffee table and rushing to the kitchen to wash up. I should tell her I don’t mind a few disheshell, Stacy trashed the place when she lived herebut the sight of her scurrying around to please me turns me on way too much.
“I’m sorry-I didn’t expect to see you until this afternoon.” She returns to the living room and runs her hands through her hair.
“Yeah. I wanted to see you.”
Her eyes round, as if startled. Or is it hopeful? Either way, she cares. I’m sure of it. Just like seeing her rush to clean up pleases me, so does seeing the need in her eyes. She doesn’t just want my money. She wants my approval. My attention.
There should be red flags flying everywherethis is the opposite of what I wanted. What I thought I wanted. Except I like it too damn much to shut it down.
“Last night was intense.” I open my arms.
“Intense, yeah,” she breathes, stepping into me and resting her cheek against my chest.
I hear a sniff, and I go cold. Fuck. Did I take things too far? I ease her head away from my chest. “Are you crying?”
“No.” She wipes her eye with the back of her hand. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“Come here, bambi.” I lead her to an armchair and pull her into my lap.
“It meant a lot to me that you accepted my punishment last night.” I run my thumb along her cheek. “You took it so well. Was it too much? Are you okay?”
“I’m okay.” Her eyes fill with tears again. “I’m sorry.” She sniffs, swiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’m not usually like this.”
“Cry all you want,” I tell her. “I gave the punishment, I can handle the tears.”
This is part of the turn-on of being a dominant. It’s backwards and wrong, but comforting her after I inflicted pain is as satisfying as delivering the pain. Aftercare is important and no less pleasurable. I cup the back of her neck and bring her head to my lips, brushing kisses along her hairline.
Lexi
I hide my face in Bobby’s neck. I feel so raw emotionally. My life has been one giant upheaval this week, and I seriously don’t know up from down. Head from tail.
I do know that it feels nice to be accepted like this, even when I’m a total mess. I like that he came over, anticipating that I might be mixed-up and feeling vulnerable after what went down between us.
“Were you really mad, Bobby? Or is it just…part of the game?”
He rubs slow circles over my back. “I was mad, yes.” He coaxes my head away from his shoulder and cups my face. Finding my gaze, he holds it, making me flush.
He strokes my cheek with his thumb. “But I also have a streak of sadism in me. So spanking you was a pleasure for me.”
It’s not a huge revelation. I mean, I totally knew dominance was his kink from day one. I just don’t know if he’s trying to tell me something else. Like, if there’s more, and this was just the tip of the iceberg.
He watches me closely. I get the feeling he’s bracing for my reaction to his admission.
I swallow. “So.. it turned you on?”
“Yes, the second you put yourself in position for me, all my piss-off was gone, and it became foreplay.”
I examine my reaction to his words. I’m not offended. Not daunted. I appreciate his honesty. What’s more, I like knowing what turns him on. That I pleased him just by accepting the punishment. That he’s really not mad at all anymore. He’s the opposite of mad.
He touches my cheek, and his gaze is warm. “You took it so well, beautiful girl. I loved it when you begged and pleaded but still held the position.”
My face burns, but I don’t look away. I’m incapable of it, caught in his magnetic stare, the pull of his attention so addictive.
“It bonded me to you. Now I know you’re really my girl. You’re willing to do what it takes to make things right with me. I meant it last night when I said there is nothing in the world I wouldn’t do for you. I loved the way you submitted to me for punishment.”
“Did I really have a choice?”
He shrugs. “Definitely. Yeah. You always have a choice. You could walk out of here any time, sugar. You’re not my prisoner. But if you stay, you follow my rules. That’s our deal.”
I take a deep breath. “There’s this part of me that keeps freaking out about everything. Like this is just one giant mind-fuck, and I’m playing right into your hands. Did you ever see that movie 912 Weeks?”
“I thought it was hot.”
I laugh. “Okay, so did I. But the message was that it was all wrong for her. And he was dangerous.”
Bobby’s brows drew together. “You think I’m a psychopath?”
Do I? No. He seems quite sane, actually. I shake my head. “No. I’m just confused. I’ve been mixed up all morning, that’s why you caught me sitting around in my pajamas. Part of me feels bad about screwing up and getting in trouble, and then another part is a little upset that you actually punished me. And then still another part says none of it was realit’s just the way you like to have sex. And then the last piece of me says who really cares what you do, you just gave me a thousand bucks. If you want to take a belt to my ass and get us both off afterward, who am I to complain?”
Bobby’s smile is sexy as hell. “I don’t know, Lex. It is confusing. I like to be in charge of you. I like to punish-in the bedroom and for real. And real-life spanking is hotter to me, even when it isn’t sexy in the moment. Does it make any sense to say that knowing you will submit to me in real life makes the sex steamier when we play?”
I relax. He’s definitely sane. Hearing him articulate his fetish makes it obvious. He understands his quirk and doesn’t believe punishing a woman for breaking rules is a God-given right afforded to men. Or even a normal, accepted behavior. He may be a dangerous criminal, but he’s not deranged. He knows the line he walks.
In fact, it totally explains why he prefers the whole “arrangement” thing versus a real girlfriend.
He picks up my hand and interlaces his fingers over the tops of mine. “I know you liked some part of it, too,” he murmurs.
I almost don’t want to admit it, even though it’s true. Because what if he gets even more intense with this? What if I no longer like it?
I lift our joined hands to my lips and kiss his fingers as my answer.
“So you’re staying? You’re still my girl?”
“Did you bring any money?” I ask with mock greediness. “No, just kidding. Bad joke. I sort of hate myself for using you like this.”
“I don’t hate myself for using you. At all.” He waggles his eyebrows in an appreciative leer. “And yes, I brought the money. Go get dressed, and we’ll take it down to the salon together.”
I climb off his lap. “Do I have time for a quick shower?” I call over my shoulder as I pad to the bedroom.
“Do what you need to do.”
I turn on the water and pop in the shower, making it quick, not wanting to keep him waiting. The heaviness and confusion that plagued me this morning is gone, and now as I shampoo my hair and shave my legs, a new excitement bubbles up. Bobby’s still into me. My debt’s getting paid off. And our honest conversation made me feel safe with him.
When I step out of the shower, I find Bobby sitting on the bathroom countertop, waiting.
I yank the towel from the rack. “Eek! You surprised me. I’m sorry, am I taking too long?”
As usual, he looks casually elegant, his khaki slacks crisply ironed, the short-sleeved button-down square cut at the bottom to wear untucked. “No, I just wanted to watch.” His eyes rove across my wet shoulders, then skip down to my legs.
I drop the towel to give him the full view. “I’m yours to ogle.”
He grins. “My buddy Dean just texted to say he has tickets to the Yankees game next week. You want to come?”
“I’d love to! Oh wait” I give him a coy look over my shoulder as I head out the door “Why are you even asking? I thought I’m supposed to be available to you anytime you demand, unless I’m working.”
He lunges and catches me around the waist before I make it out the door. Hauling me back, he puts his lips to my ear, nipping the shell of it before he growls, “Are you really going to tell me how to do my job?”
“No.” I laugh.
He squeezes my ass, then cranes his neck to inspect my backside. I examined myself in the mirror this morning, fascinated with how quickly my ass recovered from punishment. Only a few red lines remain from my whipping.
“How is this beautiful ass today?”
I consider lying. I certainly don’t want him to ever spank me harder than he did. But he seems so good at reading me, he’d probably know a fib when he heard it. “A little sting-y in places, but mostly fine,” I admit.
He turns me to face him, squeezing and kneading my ass. “Does it scare you to hear I can’t wait to do it again?” His voice is low and seductive. Giving pain definitely is his pleasure.
I swallow. My clenching, dripping core says no, regardless of my reluctance to admit anything to my demanding lover. “A little.”
“I jacked off this morning to the memory of how you looked laid out on those pillows last night. All that sweet begging.”
I flush, irrationally pleased by his turn-on.
He releases me and gives my ass a light tap. “Go on and get ready.”
“Yes, Master.” I laugh and go into the bedroom, pulling on a halter top and jeans.
“Mmm, mmm,” Bobby says when he sees me. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.”