Read His Sassy Girl (Desiring the Forbidden Book 2) Online
Authors: Megan Michaels
Tags: #Erotic romance
His Sassy Girl (Desiring the Forbidden Book 2)
His Sassy Girl
Megan Michaels
About This Book
A defiant, strong woman. An implacable alpha male disciplinarian. An explosive collision of passions — and the yielding of a girl’s heart.
For nineteen-year-old wild child, Brittney, college was like unleashing the proverbial kid in the candy store — hot men, few rules, and almost zero responsibility. Sure, she was probably a little too crazy for her own good. But at a university, who’d have the inclination — or the desire — to keep her in line? Deep down, she knew she needed a man whose strict rules, and if needed, harsh punishments would keep her out of trouble, to encourage her to grow and focus. There wasn’t a chance in hell she’d get any of that in college though, so she was resolved to have some fun, consequences or not.
Dylan was never fooled by the feminine wiles of the curvy, opinionated beauty. Brittney might have skated through life on her striking looks, her quick wit, and her smart-mouthed ways — but it wasn’t going to work on him. He saw through all of that, saw what she needed, knew the polishing this diamond in the rough would need to really make her shine. Stringent, consistent discipline — and a willingness to apply it often to Brittney’s soft, round backside — would have her walking the straight and narrow in no time. Now, he just had to figure out how to take that first step on that journey, one that would have only one ending — Brittney’s heart, body, and soul entirely his.
Dylan’s known Dr. Maddox Parks as Brittney’s professor. But the man was much more than Brittney’s stern college instructor. He was also a member of a very exclusive establishment, The Playpen. Could the alluring world of the Playpen be the key to breaking down Brittney’s defenses, to showing her who she might really be inside? But will the arrival of Brittney’s father, and his own special girl, Sunni prove too much for Brittney to handle, forcing her to run from Dylan — and from herself? What happens when you get three sassy, independent and mischievous women in a BDSM Club? Will any of them decide to take their relationship to the next level — going deeper than any of them ever expected?
Publisher’s Warning:
Intended for mature readers. 18 and over only!
This (very) steamy contemporary romance contains the following themes or activities: spanking, exhibitionism, humiliation, medical play, bondage, explicit sexual activity, mild elements of age play in a BDSM setting, and a sassy young woman learning the hard way what happens when she pushes her luck with a strict, no-nonsense alpha male.
If you’d like to be notified of new Megan Michaels books, sign up for her New Release E-mail Alerts.
http://www.megan-michaels.com/newsletter/
No Spam – just new books!
Copyright © 2016 by Megan Michaels
All rights reserved.
Cover Design by Rachel A Olson (
www.nosweatgraphics.weebly.com
)
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and as such, any similarity to existing persons, places or events must be considered purely coincidental.
This book contains content that is not suitable for readers aged 17 and under.
For mature readers only.
Published in the United States of America.
First Electronic Edition: April 2016
By Megan Michaels
The Service & Submission Series:
The Widow Wagon Series:
Book Two: More Than She Bargained For
The Desiring The Forbidden Series
Published By Stormy Night Publications
Prologue
A
s she expected, Dylan was less than pleased with her behavior at her father’s house. He’d warned her of the consequences, told her that she’d be receiving a spanking if she misbehaved. He knew how much she hated the strop, but for fights, it was the implement of choice. Thankfully, she had told him about the incident with Sunni, otherwise he would have added a switching to what she was already receiving.
Dylan had only been her Daddy for less than a year, but it felt like they’d been together for much longer. While their initial meeting had been less than romantic, soon enough it had become apparent that both of them were most comfortable with him being her Daddy.
She still remembered fondly the first time she’d laid eyes on him...
* * *
D
ylan walked up to her table at Starbucks. “You know, Gabby works hard here, and customers like you make it that much harder. She didn’t deserve the tongue lashing you just gave her — although I can think of someone here who
does
deserve a good lashing.”
“Who the fuck are you? And tell me again why I should give a fuck?” Brittney was amazed that this man was telling her how to behave in a coffee shop. Yes, he was definitely gorgeous, but he was still a stranger.
“I’m someone who cares about people. Obviously, that isn’t a concern for you. It seems that you’re one of those spoiled girls that only cares about her needs.” He put his hands on his hips — his very lean, trim hips. He had one of those scrumptious scruffy beards trimmed neat and close. He must have come to the coffee shop directly from the shower, the smell of cologne and soap wafting around him, his damp hair mussed with a slight wave that softened his otherwise harsh look.
His looks were distracting to her. She needed him to sit down — far away. She figured she’d send him off with an arrow to his ass. “I see that you’re alone. I’d like to say that I’m surprised, but I’m not. Maybe you need to sit back down and evaluate your people skills? You know, try to figure out why you’ll be jacking off at home alone tonight. Just you and that controlling personality of yours.”
His eyes had narrowed, a tic showing in his jaw. “I’m alone because that’s how I choose to live at this point in my life. As for controlling? You have no idea, little girl. I don’t have just a controlling personality. I’ve got a hand of steel too. And if you’re not careful with that acerbic tongue, you may find out just how hard this hand can be when applied to your cute, plump ass.”
Brittney, for the first time in a long time, had been at a loss for words. She’d stared up at him, swallowing loudly.
“That’s what I thought.” He nodded at her. “Now, I’m not telling you this, because that’d be controlling.” The corner of his mouth kicked up a little. “No, I’m
suggesting
that if I were you, I’d apologize to Gabby for being so unfriendly, especially if you plan on coming back here often. It helps to have the barista like you. Have a good day.”
Dylan had spun on his heel, walking back over to his table. Brittney made sure to ogle his tight ass which led to the most amazing muscled thighs she’d ever seen. He caught her staring and winked at her before pulling out his phone, totally ignoring her, sipping his coffee as if nothing had occurred. And as much as it bothered her to comply with his “suggestion,” she’d decided to apologize to Gabby.
The next week when Brittney showed up for her coffee, Dylan wasted no time coming up to where she had been sitting, asking if she’d like to go to dinner with him. And the rest was, as the saying went, history.
He’d acquired a little girl that day, and she learned to not only call him Daddy but trust him. Even though he was only seven years her senior, it seemed on a maturity level that Dylan was double her age — in every way.
* * *
B
rittney had been lying on Dylan’s “MacGyvered” spanking bench for God knew how long. It was a medical table, one he’d purchased not long after they’d met. Used in breast clinics, the tabletop had openings for each breast, allowing them to dangle free for biopsies. He had covered the table with expensive leather, turning it into the bench of pain she had become intimately familiar with. Her comfort mattered to him — unless it was time for her ass to be spanked.
Then all bets were off.
The craftsman who’d modified the table had sewn a long roll pillow into the leather, one that raised her hips, preventing her from clenching, and therefore, bruising, during one of the many hard paddlings she’d received while strapped down over it. Dylan also had him install handcuffs for securing both her hands and feet. His pride and joy though were the openings in the table for her breasts, leaving them to swing and dangle freely below her. The table was equipped with an electronic foot pedal to angle it up or down just right, and with that perfect positioning, he’d spent many an hour clamping, chaining, sucking, and pinching her nipples until she’d screamed with her orgasm.
Her Daddy loved breasts, and he never missed an opportunity to “play with his girls.” Today, he’d propped the table up, after she’d been handcuffed and strapped in, her nipples squeezed within the cruelest clamps they owned. Even now her breasts ached, the initial pain fading into a partial numbness that caused her sex to clench and yearn for his cock. It took everything she had not to grind her mound on the smooth — and now slick — leather under her pussy. She knew that if he walked in to find her masturbating, he’d put a vibrator in and torture her for hours, bringing her to the brink of an orgasm, only to shut it off, over and over again.
Daddy was the person who decided when she would orgasm. It didn’t mean she wouldn’t grumble or give him some trouble for it, but she had learned — painfully — that obeying this rule was much preferable to the consequences of defiance.
“Have you been thinking, Sassy?”
“Yes, Daddy.” Her whole body tensed, her heart racing in her chest, the anticipation of the punishment almost as bad as the punishment itself.
“Are you seeping onto my table?”
Jesus.
She hated when he asked that question. “Don’t you already know?”
“Who asks the questions, Brittney Leigh?” He slapped both of her thighs so hard that she gasped.
“You, Daddy.”
“So, answer the question... and don’t lie.”
As if she’d even
think
of lying about dripping all over his expensive leather. She guessed he was probably drooling just looking at the streams of juice.
“Yes. Of course, I am.” She knew she sounded exasperated, but her body’s betrayal had pissed her off. Here she was worried about her punishment, and yet her pussy was dripping with the excess of her arousal. It just didn’t make sense.
“Seems I’ve talked to you about your attitude already. Maybe it’s time for a plug?”
“N-no. Daddy, please?” The embarrassment of a punishment plug upset her more than the plug itself, though the reasons why still confused her. The fine line between pain and pleasure continually amazed her — especially if what was done to her was the result of her being a “good girl” or a “bad girl.” Many days the “good girl” spankings she received were harder and left more bruises. Standing in the corner, receiving a plug or even anal sex as a “bad girl” punishment seemed to upset her much more though. As with most things in their D/s relationship, it was all in the mindset.