Fortune (5 page)

She caught a glimpse of College Boy, who gestured in confusion.

“No,” Ryan spat at him. “Not yours.”

Not yours.
Whose was she? From the way he was acting, he thought she was his. He hustled her back through the kitchen and into a small storage room in the back. He turned on the light and shut and locked the door behind them.

He let go of her finally and she scrambled away. He stood between her and the door, arms crossed over his chest, legs braced apart. He looked every bit like he was about to beat her up. She was definitely scared at that moment, but not really scared that he would hurt her. No, she was that kind of scared when you just don’t know what’s going to happen, when the world’s all weird and upside down and you suddenly realize you’re standing on the edge of a cliff.

“Okay,” she said, pressing back against the wall. “What do you want?”

“I want to know why you do it. These things you do.”

She feigned innocence. “What things?”

“You know what things. Coming to a club you don’t like, sleeping with men you don’t like. It doesn’t make you happy.”

“How do you know?”

“Because you never smile.”

She drew in a breath and frowned at him. “I don’t like to smile.”

“You don’t like anything.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Name one thing you like.”

“I like to be left alone,” she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest to mirror him.

“Those days are over, Kat. I’m telling you that now. If you’re going to come here to this club, I’m not going to stand around and let you act like a whore.”

“I can do what I want and you can’t fucking stop me.”

“I’ll say it one more time, slowly, so you’ll understand.” He repeated himself, each word firmly enunciated. “If you’re going to come here to this club, I’m not going to stand around and let you act like a whore.”

Holy fucking Christ. He really believed he had some say in the matter. She blew out her breath and stamped one foot in her new Mary Janes.

“Fine. I just won’t come here then.” She brushed by him to get to the door. “I’ll leave right now and I won’t come back. Believe me, I won’t.” His hand took hers and squeezed it, preventing her from unlocking the deadbolt.

“But you’ll go to another place and do the same thing.”

“Yes. Maybe I will.”

When she tried to wrench her hand away, he gripped it tighter and moved closer to her, his body trapping hers against the door. She went still and hunched forward as if she could sink right through the solid wood and escape. But she didn’t want to escape, not really. He stood behind her and she felt his solid chest rise and fall against her back, felt his breath against her ear. Then his other hand came around and cupped her chin, gently turning her face back to his.

“Oh, Kat,” he said. Just two words, but something about the tender way he said them took a little of the fight out of her.

“Let go of me.”

“No,” he said quietly. “I wish I could but I don’t think I can.” He leaned down and pressed his rough cheek against hers. She was hypnotized by his closeness, his warmth, his masculine smell. She drew a shuddery breath and he drew back abruptly. She spun to face him, her eyes wide, her heart pounding. His gaze raked over her.

“Turn back around, Kat. Face the door and put your hands on it.”

“I…what… Why?”

“Because I’m going to spank you.”

“You can’t spank me,” she protested. “That’s…that’s illegal.”

“Not exactly illegal.”

“You can’t do this! Why do you want to s-spank me?”

“Because you need it,” he answered without missing a beat. “Now be a good girl, turn around and place your hands on the door in front of you.”

“But…but… What will you… How will you… I don’t even know—”

“You should just trust me.”

“Trust you? I barely know you.”

“I think we know each other pretty well. I know that you need some discipline in your life. You’re out of control and you have been for a while. You know I know what’s good for you. Better than you know yourself.”

“You know better? What?” She searched for words to refute him but she was distracted by his broad chest as he crossed his arms in front of her. Those muscles… “No… Well… It’s not… You don’t understand.”

“I think I do understand.”

“You don’t. It’s just… It’s everything else.” Why on earth was she trying to explain, to reason with him? Why was she still standing here? He looked so sympathetic, so understanding, she found the words pouring out. “I’m not out of control, I’m just… It’s just… Life is so random—”

“Life’s not random at all. Everything happens for a reason.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“I do.”

She swallowed hard. He was so convinced. He put his hand on his belt buckle, drawing her gaze down his body to his defined waist, his thighs…and…
Gulp.

“Now turn around.”

“I d-don’t want to.”

“I know,” he answered in a calm tone, “but I think you should.”

And she did. She couldn’t explain why, even as she did it. Something about the way he spoke to her both made her want to obey and made her horny as hell. She half-turned, addled, and then he put his hands on her, turned her the rest of the way. He pressed her against the door with a little squeeze on her shoulders. If she’d wanted to, she could have flipped the lock in an instant and run away in her clunky club shoes. The fact that she didn’t was a choice she made—a choice that shocked her.

“Give me your hands.”

She reached them back to him from where they were, clutched in a panicked ball in front of her chest. He took them in his and placed them hard against the wall on either side of her head. He stood behind her close enough that Kat could feel his chest against her back again. His hand cupped her bottom.

“You are going to stand there, Ekaterina, and I am going to spank your ass for these crazy choices you make. I hope, next time, this will help you make better choices. It’s going to hurt but you’re not going to move and you’re not going to take your hands from the wall. Do you understand?”

She was speechless. She might have made a strangled sound of assent. She could hear the swoosh of his belt as he pulled it from the loops of his jeans. Holy fuck, he was actually going to try to spank some sense into her. He was going to use his belt on her. Never in her life had anyone spanked her, not her mother or father or any man she’d ever known. She was shaking like a leaf. She had no idea what it would feel like or why she was even accepting it.

He made a low sibilant sound as if to say she shouldn’t be so scared. He backed up then and brought his belt down on her ass.
Holy fucking shit.
She bit her tongue in distress as the sting bloomed in her cheeks.

“I can’t do this,” she moaned, shifting on her feet.

“Yes, you can.”

He hit her again and then again, each blow a little harder than the last. It stung, it smarted, each stroke built and combined into a more and more excruciating ache, but it wasn’t the pain that was undoing her. It was the unfamiliar intimacy and the way her legs were growing weak with lust. She felt him behind her like a force, a pillar. She wanted him, wanted him more desperately than she’d ever wanted anyone in her life.

“Please, Ryan,” she sighed. She didn’t know if she was pleading with him to stop or hit her harder or take down her panties and fuck her against the wall. Another blow, and then another. She went up on her toes, her hands in fists. The hot aching sting of his belt spread like fire to her pussy. Her clit pulsed and throbbed, made her question her sanity, her perversity.
Why was this turning her on so much?
She tried to muffle her cries because they sounded obscene. There was no way he didn’t know, didn’t understand exactly how he was affecting her.

“Please,” she begged finally, when her ass was burning and she was so hot and wet she thought she might faint. He did stop then, but only to step closer and lift up her thin silk skirt.

“No,” she said, but it came out a tremulous plea, not the order she’d intended.

“Yes,” he replied, hooking his fingers in the waistband of her panties and slowly drawing them down to the tops of her thighs. The rough pads of his fingers traced her flaming ass cheeks. Each stroke of his fingertips sent shivery heat along her nerves until her whole body felt electrified, possessed. What was he doing to her? How could he be so calm and matter-of-fact about it? She ground her forehead against the door, using every ounce of her strength not to reach back and cover herself, yank her panties back up and turn to him and plead…for what? She was too far gone to know and more aroused than she’d ever been in her life.

“Look at me,” he said.

She shook her head. “I can’t. No.”

“Why not? Are you afraid? Hurt? You want me to stop?”

“Yes. No! I don’t know what I want.”

“Look at me,” he said again, and she turned to gaze back at him, at his impassive face, his muscular arms and the brown belt doubled over and dangling from his powerful hand. If he’d wanted to turn her on, wanted her to see him so she’d want him even more, he’d found success. He raised his arm again and she watched almost until the blow fell before she turned again and screwed her eyes shut against the door.

The pain of the belt strikes had been erotic over top of her skirt and panties. On her naked ass, it was divine. She didn’t know if she was supposed to be enjoying this or not so she tried to hide her arousal, but by this point he had to know. Her moans rose in intensity. She felt lost, trapped somewhere between pleasure and pain.

“Please,” she said again, and now she knew she was begging and what she was begging for. He knew too. She heard him draw in his breath and stand still for a moment.

“Is that all?” she whispered.

“Just hush,” he said, low and gruff and then moved forward to trap her against the door again. He was as hard as she was wet. She could feel his huge erection through his jeans. She couldn’t help herself and arched back against him with a sigh. Again, he drew his breath in sharply. When he spoke his voice sounded strained. He started to undo his jeans.

“You’re not going home with any boys tonight, are you?”

“No.” She shook her head. “No, I won’t.”

“You’ve learned your lesson?”

“Y-yes…yes.” His hand snaked down and stroked the front of her thighs, warm, gentle pressure. When he shifted and nuzzled her ear, she moaned and let him spread her legs. She leaned back against him as his fingers slid down her bare pussy and found her clit, swollen and wet. She shuddered with pleasure each time he stroked it.

“I’m glad to hear that,” he whispered. “But I won’t send you home like this. I’m not that mean.”

“No. No. No…” It was all she could think to say, over and over.
No, you shouldn’t do this. No, this is wrong. No, don’t send me home, not this way.

“No, or yes?” he asked against her ear, hot breath and rough stubble.

“Yes. Yes! Use a condom. Please.”

“Of course I will. I’m glad you asked.”

He already had one in his hands, yanked from some pocket or his wallet. She was still pressed to the door, skirt up, panties down, legs spread open by his knees. She felt him yanking his pants down, felt his cock spring out against her—cool, velvet steel against her flaming ass.
Oh my god.
He put on the condom, then his hands were back on her again, stroking her hip, grasping her shoulder. She didn’t care anymore about discovery, about someone passing by and overhearing them. She didn’t care about anything but his hands on her waist and his cock nudging her open. She moaned and he stopped.

“Okay?”

She made some desperate sound she was sure she’d never made before and shifted her hips, granting him access. With a groan he pressed forward and she let it all happen, let his hard, thick cock push up inside her all the way to the hilt, not resisting or thinking or doing anything but feeling him take her, possess her. He was so big and powerful sliding up inside her. If he hadn’t been holding her she would have fallen. He withdrew and pressed in again, a slow slide and delicious ache. He took her hips in his hands and pulled her back against him so even if she’d wanted to escape she couldn’t have gotten away.

She cried out so loudly at the crippling pleasure of the next thrust that he put his hand over her mouth. Not hard enough to steal her breath, just hard enough to muffle the sounds she couldn’t control anymore. She couldn’t control anything. Oh god.
Oh god.
Each stroke made her shake, shiver. Her nerves were singing with sensation, the fullness and friction of him deep inside. His fingers dug into her waist, his other hand still pressed over her lips. She kissed his palm, unthinking.

“Ohhh,” he groaned in a low voice that she felt in her chest, her stomach. “I’ve got you. Does it feel good? Isn’t this what you wanted, what you needed all along?”

She could only sob. She was way too far gone to answer. Her cries rose in volume the closer she came to orgasm. Each stroke brought her closer, closer still. Each stroke was fulfillment and revelation. She started to vibrate, to shake and pant against his hand. He let her go and reached down, sliding his fingers between her pussy lips. She bucked back against him, shaking her head. No, it was impossible. No, sex couldn’t possibly feel this good. Sex couldn’t possibly be like this, a living dream killing her and bringing her back to life. She was vaguely aware of him nuzzling her, kissing and nibbling her shoulder, soft black hair against her cheek. Warm lips tracing down her temple. His fingers stroked her with a dexterity that was unknown to her. A new world of arousal coiled in her belly and then, when she thought she would die, the arousal unwound in a shattering arc. He held her while she fell apart in his arms, gripped by the most intense orgasm she’d ever experienced. Her body tensed, her pelvis pulsed and bucked as the pleasure overtook her. She felt spent, totally emptied out from the force of it. He thrust in her a few more times, finding his own release with a guttural groan against her ear. They both went still, gasping for breath. He didn’t pull out, only pressed closer against her. She realized then that her hands were still on the wall on either side of her head.