False Pretenses (8 page)
Stroking ceased. “You need to be more mindful of your actions."
Emma opened her mouth to agree, then jerked and squealed as he brought his palm down on her ass. Several slaps followed, each one delivered a little harder, stinging a tad more.
Emma raised her head and caught sight of her cat watching from a safe distance on his scratch post. This is
your
fault, she thought. It had to be her imagination that Jinx was smirking at her.
Dan moved his hand over her bottom, caressing away the sting, and she sighed in relief. That wasn't so bad.
"I think you're ready,” he said.
Alarm lodged in her throat when he flipped the skirt of her dress to her waist, revealing her black lace boy shorts. Cut high on each hip, the panty exposed the lower portion of her ass, the see-through lace showing the rest.
"Oh Em.” Dan groaned. “You're already blushing. Your ass is beautiful.” His erection throbbed beneath her stomach.
She twisted slightly to peer at him over her shoulder. “Thank you,” she said with as much cheek as she could muster.
He smoothed his hand over her lace-covered rear, then traced a tantalizing trail along the edge of the leg opening. Tingles spiraled outward, delivering pulses into her clit, her pussy, and into her womb. She'd had no idea her ass could be so responsive to a simple touch.
Of course, her ass had never been spanked before.
Dan secured her on his lap and snagged the hairbrush.
The room spun, and she looked forward again. Like when having blood drawn at the doctor's office, she couldn't watch or she might pass out.
"Soon, Em, but not yet,” he said as if he sensed her nervousness. He set the brush beside him and resumed stroking her cheeks.
Emma recognized the moment his caress was going to become a serious smack. Perhaps it was a sudden tension in his body, the lift and pause of his stroking hand, a crackle in the aura of intimacy.
Prescience didn't mitigate impact. When the spank came, falling sharply on her panty-clad behind, it stung mightily, and she yelped. A split second later, he burned her other cheek. She pressed her lips together to stifle a cry, not so much at the sharp pain, but at the knowledge that everything had changed. The spanking chiseled away at her core beliefs, and she clung in vain to the sofa, trying to hang on to the Emma she'd always been. Her outer shell shattered into bits and flew away, uncovering what had been hidden deep inside. Two smacks shouldn't have been enough to tell her if she liked being spanked—except it did. She loved it.
"Perhaps the next time"—he smacked her hard—"you'll think twice about"—crack—"leaving the door open"—another spank—"so Jinx can get out."
Emma hadn't expected a scolding with the spanking, but it enhanced the experience somehow, like talking dirty during sex.
She wiggled on Dan's lap, but he clamped his arm across her back and yanked down her panties. Her breath hitched in her throat. She'd never felt so vulnerable, so...connected? How was that possible? Her pussy throbbed along with her ass.
Cool air grazed her naked skin, but then Dan slapped her cheek, and the temperature soared. She had no protection from his stinging hand, no defense against her rioting emotions. She wanted to hate it, to loathe every painful second, but...she didn't.
Each spank seared the point of contact before morphing into ripples of confusing yearning. Pain...pleasure. Pain...pleasure. Twin sensations danced within her in a baffling tango.
She dreaded every punitive kiss, kicking and writhing to escape.
She craved each one, lifting her hips to meet every smack.
Deftly, without interrupting the pace, Dan employed the paddle brush, the wide head spreading the sensation over a larger area. He spanked her with a steady rhythm, until flames engulfed her from the top of her buttocks to her upper thighs.
Despite the pain—or maybe because of it—her pussy flooded with moisture, drenched her inner thighs and probably Dan's slacks. She bit her lip and fisted her hands into the sofa fabric to keep from humping Dan's lap.
Emma couldn't deny the truth anymore—being spanked turned her on. Big time.
"Oh God, Dan. Please. Please,” she cried and lifted her hips for another spank and then recoiled when she received it.
"Yes. That's it, Em. That's it, sweet girl.” His raspy, hoarse praise thrilled her, sending a surge of heated pleasure through her veins. “You're so fucking beautiful.” He set down the brush and roughly massaged her burning cheeks, soothing and punishing her tender flesh.
Dan dipped his fingers between her legs and sucked his breath through his teeth in a hiss of satisfaction. “You're so wet.” He teased her clit with tight circles, igniting a fire that rivaled the one whipping across the surface of her skin. When he thrust one finger then a second into her sex, Emma thought she'd lose her mind with the need that coursed through her body.
Dan became the master, the director, controlling how much pleasure and pain to inflict on her eager body. He stroked and finger fucked her to the brink of orgasm—then left her hanging.
"Please—please, Dan.” She needed to come more badly than she ever had before.
Dan chuckled, his rich laugh full of satisfaction, and picked up the brush again. He struck her cheek hard, and she flinched. “Oh God, more,” she begged. “More. More. More."
He peppered her ass with spicy kisses until agony and rapture merged, and she bucked like a wild thing across his knees, sobbing through the pleasure, laughing through the pain.
"You like it, don't you, Emma?” Dan growled. “You like having your ass burned. You like your pleasure wrapped up in a kiss of pain."
"Yes.” She couldn't lie. How could she when she'd cried out for more, writhing in ecstasy? Hadn't she been living vicariously through the testimonies of the Rod and Cane wives? Hadn't she secretly gotten a little thrill with every spanking tale she'd heard, playing the recordings over and over? Wasn't the real purpose of her expose an attempt to explore her own dark desires?
Dan seared her ass twice more and tossed the brush aside.
Her backside throbbed like a balloon being inflated and deflated. Everything pulsed—the arteries in her throat, her aching clit, her swollen pussy, her womb. Her body was one massive ball of convulsing need.
Dan eased her to her feet. “Take off your clothes,” he ordered in a quiet voice and unzipped his pants.
Emma complied, her gaze riveted on Dan as he freed his cock from his undershorts. She wanted him so badly, wanted to suck his rod, have him bury that monster in her pussy, but she waited for his instruction. She licked her lips.
He gestured, moving his hand in a circle.
Emma pivoted slowly and presented her backside.
"Fucking gorgeous,” he growled, and Emma's chest swelled with pride. Equality between the sexes be damned. She'd let Dan spank her every day if it meant she could hear such approval and satisfaction in his voice.
"Am I red?"
"Like a rose.” He trailed a finger over her sensitive skin, his light touch raising goose bumps of pleasure. Emma shivered.
"Turn around.” Approval morphed into dominance. “Suck my cock."
She sank to her knees and grasped his shaft with both hands. Holy fuck, he was hard like an iron rod, the crown slickened by fluid. She lowered her head and inhaled the musk of sex and man. Her pussy quivered. With a moan of enjoyment, she swirled her tongue over and around his large, weeping cockhead, tracing the ridge, teasing the slit.
"Fuck.” He jerked under her touch.
Emma opened her mouth wide and sucked him deep.
"You're so good. Such a good girl.” Dan wound the strands of her hair around his fingers as if gripping a leash. Her jaw ached to take a man so large, but she sucked with all her might, his hoarse exhortations filling her with satisfaction.
As she moved her mouth up and down his rod, the fabric of his slacks teased her pebbled nipples. He reached down and pinched one, rolling it between his fingers. Sweet pleasure bit through the tip, and Emma moaned, the sound partially muffled by his cock.
She kissed his erection from crown to base, where she teased his ball sac with her tongue, before licking a trail back up to his cockhead. She started to engulf him again, but he held her off, got to his feet, and tore off his pants. “Enough,” he said. “I need to fuck you."
Dan guided her facedown over the sofa arm and gently kicked her feet apart. “Spread your legs; show me that pussy.” She loved how he took charge. Emma trembled with excitement, her knees shaking, her sex creaming with lust.
"How are you feeling? Are you all right?” Dan caressed one of the flaming globes of her ass. Dominance receded under concern, and Emma's heart flip-flopped. She appreciated his tenderness, but right now she had needs. Serious needs.
She taunted him. “Are you going to talk all night or fuck me?"
Dan grabbed the hairbrush and gave her two hard whacks. “Sassing will get you spanked,” he said.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry.” She laughed and covered her burning cheeks. He gathered both her wrists in one hand and delivered several more swats with the brush.
Wetness trickled down her legs, and Emma could smell the musk of her arousal. As much as she had relished the spanking, she craved the completion of being filled.
He must have read her mind, because he tossed the brush aside, produced a condom, and snapped it on. He probed her wetness with the thick head of his cock and worked into her tight, grasping channel.
"Oh God, yes.” Emma hissed at the satisfying fullness, the pressure, and contracted her muscles. “Hard. Fuck me hard.” Emma thrust against him.
"I don't want to hurt you.” He grasped her hips and held her tight. Buried inside her, his cock throbbed.
"You spanked me!"
"Good point."
He fucked her as she'd demanded—hard, fast, swiveling his hips to drive deep, slamming her against the padded arm of the sofa. He moved his fingers over her clit, kindling flames of rapture in the bundled nerves.
Primed and readied by the foreplay spanking, it didn't take Emma long to come. Her clit and pussy convulsed in orgasmic bliss. “Oh God, oh God, oh God, DAN!” She bucked against him, her muscles milking his cock.
Dan growled and pounded into her, his cock jerking inside her as he came. He slumped on top of her, crushing her against a hard edge of the sofa that poked through the padding. Her ass ached, but Emma had never felt more content.
Chapter Eight
A sidewalk display of pink roses caught his eye, and Dan swerved to the curb beside the florist shop. A quick glance at his watch revealed he had only ten minutes to spare, but some matters took precedence over mandatory Rod and Cane meetings.
He leaped from his SUV and made a beeline for the rose display to get a closer look. The pale blooms couldn't compare to the beautiful deep pink that had tinted Emma's butt cheeks after he'd spanked her. He bent his head to inhale the scent. Sweet, but Emma smelled better, like a mix of warm vanilla, honey, and arousal. He fingered a delicate petal. It didn't compare to Emma's softer skin.
A woman in a dark green butcher's apron emerged from the shop. “Can I help you?"
"What other color roses do you have?"
"All the standard ones. Red, yellow, white. Who are they for?"
"A special lady."
"Girlfriend?"
Not counting their shower, he and Emma had had only the one date. One incredible, axis-tilting, life-altering date. He'd floated from her house, on top of the world.
"Yes.” He nodded.
Emma's willingness to experiment, the trusting way she'd bowed over his lap, touched him to the marrow. Her moans of pleasure and the way her ivory skin blushed—first tender pink, then blooming to a full, glorious rose—had stoked his lust to a fever pitch. As he spanked her, he had smelled her arousal and seen its evidence glistening in her curls as she twisted and bucked under his hand.
Jinx's escape had given him the perfect opening to lay his hand to Emma's ass. It had all been for fun, but in truth, if the cat escaped as often as Emma said he did, she could benefit from some discipline. Perhaps a little physical chastisement would focus her attention where it needed to be. Something to consider. For both him and Emma.
Dan considered spanking an intensely intimate act, as much if not more so than sex itself. That he had hungered to redden Emma's rounded behind the moment he'd laid eyes on her testified to the rightness of their connection. A bottom like Emma had to place her physical and emotional well-being in the hands of her top. The top had to protect his gift by placing the woman's needs above all else.
Spanking Emma had forged a bond between them that otherwise would have required months to develop—if it occurred at all. While there was still much he didn't know about her—where she'd gone to school, if she had siblings, her favorite TV shows—those kinds of trivial facts could be gleaned over time. He knew Emma's essence, her heart.
"Do you have any roses that are...”
The color of Emma's spanked ass?
“Rosier?” he asked the florist.
"Rosier?"
"Yeah. Something between a pink and a red. Something different."
"A shipment arrived this morning that might be considered different. They're fairly expensive, though."
"Let me see them."
The florist led him inside the shop to a cooler. She opened the sliding door and extracted a long-stemmed rose from a bucket. The palest of pink tinted the base of the petals, then gradually darkened to an intense rose at the tips. It reminded Dan of the way Emma's ass had blossomed in color. Desire stirred his cock.
"Perfect,” he said. “Can you deliver a dozen today?"
"Certainly."
Dan paid for the roses, scribbled a note on a card to accompany their delivery, and departed for his meeting.
The other board members were waiting when Dan arrived at the Rod and Cane Society mansion. He pulled two twenties from his wallet and dropped them into the wooden box at the door. “Sorry I'm late.” He slipped into the last remaining chair at the mahogany conference table.