Billionaire Romance: Darque Control (A Darque Billionaire Romance Book 2) (3 page)

“…”  She smiled.  “Say what?”

“Contract.  For our new relationship.”

“But uh…this isn’t like an HR thing.  We don’t want to go public with it.”

“Of course not, silly.  This is a contract for you and me.  One that states the nature of our relationship and what I am going to do to you.  Since you want to be punished.”

“I…guess…” she said, not quite sure what she was getting herself into.  “But…you say it’s a contract.  I can always back out of this deal?  Right?  If I decide I don’t like it?”

Bastien only smiled in response.  “…You will like it, Arabella Stone.  The contract says that I can walk away, if I so choose, since presumably you will want this relationship to continue, whereas I…make no promises.”

He emailed the contract to her the next morning.  It wasn’t a legal contract, although it did seem to contain a lot of legal phrasing, oddly enough.  The words were scandalous all right.  He mentioned spankings, restraints, toys, and “unorthodox” techniques, whatever that meant.  Bella had to agree not to sue him, not to tell anyone about their new relationship, and not use any of information derived from ‘sex-capades’ for the campaign or against the campaign, should the firm and the Darques ever have a falling out.

It was a standard contract except that it contained some rather obscene items and definitions that Darque felt obliged to mention.

Bella met with her mother and Alicia for a beverage the next afternoon.  It was a nice meal, held at the local pancake house “Lincoln’s Waffle Shop”, featuring coffee, hot chocolate and tea.  Bella mostly drank her tea, really having no idea what was going to happen tonight with Darque.  The contract said there would be spankings but didn’t quite explain what would happen.  Is that how he wanted it? 

She stared at Alicia and her mother and almost, for a second, thought about revealing her sort-of boyfriend to the two most important people in her life.

Yeah right, she thought.  How would she even begin to explain to such delicate people about what an insane thing she was doing?  Mom wanted her to meet someone nice.  Alicia was down with the billionaire rich guy type, but the kind that spanks?  That draws up lengthy contracts to spank?  The type of guy who makes a woman beg first?

It all seemed too strange.  The kind of relationship that makes a woman wonder if denial is sometimes the best recourse.  She would simply deny that she had a bizarre dominance-spanking relationship with Bastien and the world would continue spinning just fine.  Or she could admit that she was arranging, via contract, to get spanked later tonight by a man who admittedly doesn’t love her, doesn’t need her and so on.  But at least he thinks she’s beautiful. 

“So,” Alicia, said, hitting on a dreadful topic.  “Are you seeing anybody?”

“What?” Bella asked, quite terrified. 

“You know?  Dudes?  Anyone asking you out?  Or are you that consumed with work?”

Miss Merva Stone, her lovely mother, also had a few choice words.  “You have your father’s workaholic syndrome,” she said.  “Always putting work first, family seconds.  That’s all well and good but you grow out of it,” he said with a laugh.

The whole idea only made Bella feel panicked.  “I’m not working!  It’s not work, mother.”  Oh oh.  Why am I getting so upset?  Better calm down before I reveal too much.

“Ohh, did you notice that she’s getting defensive?” Alicia said with a grin.  “Did you already meet someone?”

“Really?” Merva said.  “That’s exciting!  Is that true, Bella?”

“Uh…” 

Did Bastien actually qualify as anything or was he more of a fling that you’re not supposed to talk about?  Probably the latter, except that Alicia had a pretty good memory.

Damn.

“Waaaait a minute.  Oh my God!  Is it who I think it is?”

“No!  Noooo!” Bella announced and send fiery eyes to Alicia. 

But not guilty eyes.  Don’t try too hard or she won’t believe me! 

“It’s definitely not him. No,” she laughed, trying to calm herself. 

Alicia stared at Bella, trying to uncover the truth. 

“Who are you two talking about?”

“Just some guy that Bella met the other day.  At the uh…library.  Isn’t that right, B?”  Alicia’s snarky smile was becoming worrisome.  Did she suspect that Darque was engaging in an illicit relationship with a client?  That would indeed be cause for major scandal—possibly upsetting the whole country on a national scale, considering the senator’s presidential campaign.

“The library?  Nice!” mother said.  “That means he’s smart!”

“Yeah.  Yeah he’s smart…if it’s the guy I’m thinking of,” Alicia said, still poking her with that knowing smile.

“It’s not.  Not that guy.  Not who you’re thinking of.”

Alicia kept staring, finally giving up with a whisper mom probably couldn’t hear.  “Better not be who I think it is.”

“It’s not,” Bella whispered back.

“Well, it’s not our job to pry.  Maybe Alicia wants to take it slow.”

Slow.  That’s one way to say it, mom.

“Yeah, I just don’t like getting involved with someone while work in on my mind.”

“Of course, dear.  But just remember there will always be a job.  You’ll always have bills to pay.  But a man who appreciates your…unique body shape will not always be around.”

Alicia and Bella shuddered and hid their eyes from each other.  She had to go there again.  No wonder Bella grew up with a complex.  If only a normal guy could love her sensuous body shape as greedily, as hungrily, as Bastien Darque. 

But maybe the fact that he couldn’t be normal was all that mattered.

Bastion arranged to have a limo pick Bella up.  A strange feeling, taking a limo to get punished.  To be disrespected and disciplined.  At least he was technically a celebrity and a powerful guy.  He also made sure that came prepared.

In an email prior to the date of the contracted “meeting” he requested that Bella go down to the Le Bustiere Boutique and choose some lingerie appropriate for the occasion.  What she was wearing, what she had, wasn’t good enough.  It had to be his own preferences.  He told her he wanted to dress in lacy lingerie with fishnet stockings sporting a light violet complexion.  The gown, he wrote, would accentuate her curves to his satisfaction, making her breasts appear bigger and fuller and her hips and pelvis area thicker—just the way he liked a woman.  Always bosomy, prepared, and subservient.

She arrived in a jacket and very loose skirt, allowing her to strip down quickly.  He spoke some pleasantries on her arrival but was conspicuously quiet.  Was he in character?  She caught a glance of his eyes.  He was definitely interested but yes, reserved and preoccupied…with her.  He was looking at her intensively and seemed very distracted about the conversation. 

Maybe it was pointless anyway.  Maybe he was just ready to give her pleasure. 

His eyes seem to come alive as she removed her skirt and jacket, showing him that she dressed to his specifications.  He gazed at her body, delightfully fluffy and touchable.  He put his hands on her sensitive slightly chilled skin.  He caressed her curves satisfying his own lusts.  But it was only for a few moments, because tonight he had agreed by contract to focus on punishment.

He guided her over to a specially made apparatus.  Her eyes lit up as she studied it.  A cushiony middle for comfort, but with restraints on the ground for the submissive’s hands, and on the other side of the middle, restraints for legs.

Wow, she thought, eyeing the device in wonder and a more than a little uneasiness.  This wasn’t just any over-the-knee spanking going on.  This was really going to hurt.

He gently guided her over to the apparatus and then pushed her slowly and surely over the middle.  He was gentle, but by no means hesitant.  This was going to happen and that’s what the contract said.  He tied her hands tight to the ground restraints and then the legs.  When he finished he admired the view—a beautiful woman leaning over a constructed and very large “knee” with her ass in the air and no defenses whatsoever.  There was no way out of it.  She pulled and squirmed but the apparatus held her hard in place, barely any wiggle room.  Her bare buttocks only partly colored by the thong of the lingerie, were left exposed.  She felt the draft of the room.  Mostly, she just felt her nerves increase, as she realized some of the blood was rushing to her head. 

This was going to be an intense experience for sure.  To start, Bastein positioned himself comfortably, making sure he had ample room to swing.  He wound up his arm and practiced a few times first, not connecting with her skin, but toying with the idea. 

Finally, Bella spoke up.  “What if I get scared?  What do I do?”

“What makes you think you can do anything except take the punishment?”

“I just meant…you know in case of an emergency.”

He made sure to move over to the side where her head lay, so she could see his smile.  “Then you say, Mister Darque…I QUIT.  And you mean it.  In every sense of the word.”

Damn.  Not fair, but not really surprising.  This relationship had nothing to do with work.  Bella shouldn’t have even been working in reputation management.

But Bella knew she wasn’t a quitter. 

The first slap was given, only a modest hand strike, winding up.  Darque made sure he was comfortable and then reached out again.  The second time he hit her harder, the swinging with full force and rotating his body to deliver greater energy.

Bella didn’t react, but the second one hurt.  Only slightly.

Then he struck her a third time, rotating his body and connecting harder with more vigorous energy.  He made sure that each slap connected on her cheeks, one at a time, since that was the only way to ensure it really hurt. 

The fourth slap was even harder and he kept seeming to go up the scale of pain.

“Okay!” she said loudly, her breathing starting to heighten.

“Okay what?”

“It hurts…”

“No.  It doesn’t.”

He slapped her a fifth time, this time connecting harder with his hand with a blow so vicious it hurt his own hand.

That one hurt so bad she couldn’t even speak.  It wasn’t the laughing kind of spanking that Bradley once gave her as a joke.  It wasn’t the slap your ass kind of mini-spanking in between strokes.  It was punishment.  And it hadn’t even fully begun.

He made sure to hit the “sit spot” knowing it would cause her soreness.  Knowing she wanted this bizarre experience, just as much as he enjoyed giving it.  “Does it hurt?”

“Yes.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

He slapped her again, harder still, making sure her fanny turned red and burned for a few long moments.

“Oh God!”

“Why are you screaming?”

“It hurts!” she cried, panting down and wiggling—but to no avail.

“No.  It does not.”

He slapped her again, harder, making damn sure his own hand ached and turned red from the contact. 

“Ohhh God…” she screamed, not sure what the hell she was feeling.  It wasn’t quite orgasmic but not too far off either.  Then he started slowing things down.  He waited.  He spent long wordless moments just looking at her naked backside, admiring the little red glow he left behind.  He patted her down, always lusting after her buxom shape.  But there was much more to come. 

She felt the anticipation grow.  Her buttocks started clenching, involuntarily reacting to the threat.  She felt another blow coming. 

“Does it hurt?”

“…No.  No it doesn’t.”

“Good girl,” he said, slapping her hard, this time in two rapid successions, making sure both cheeks got plenty of contact.

“Do you think we should stop?” he said, a little bit innocently, a modest question.

“Yes.  I think I’m good.”

“No, you’re not.”

Her buttocks clenched again. 

“Does it hurt yet?”

“Yes.  I mean…”

“You mean what?”

“I don’t know.”

“Heh…” he laughed a little bit and then spoke in a debonair voice.  “My darling Arabella.  That is entirely the wrong answer.”

“I know…”

“I told you what to say.  Didn’t I?”

“Yes.”

“Are you a quitter?”

“No.”

“Then what do you say?  Does it hurt?  Have you had enough?”

“Yes.  It hurts.  I’ve had enough.”

“Wrong answer.”

He began slowly, methodically, unbuttoning his belt.  Bella knew what was coming and started wiggling around, trying in vain to escape her punishment.

“No.  No!”

“You afraid?”

“Yes.  Very.”

“Afraid it will hurt?”

“Yes.  It will.”

“Is that what you want?”

She said nothing, feeling her buttocks clench and anticipating the blow.

He finished taking off his belt and snapped it together.  He had a heavy belt, one of those leather specialties that really held his pants tight—and that would punish a submissive like no other.

He took his time prepping for the first belt strike, backing away and rotating his arm making sure he got good distance. 

“I like you Bella.”

“Uhhhhh…” she sighed, expecting the worst.

He smacked her the hardest he done all night and the pain was immense.  It hurt so bad she felt her body vibrate.  Tears welled up in her eyes and she closed her fists together.  Repeatedly.  Because there was nothing else to do.

“Uhhhhh!” she managed to scream after a long delay. 

He snapped the belt again, but didn’t connect.  Her buttocks clenched anyway.  Then, just as she relaxed he smacked her a third time. 

“Oh God!”

“What?”