On The Rocks (33 page)

“You okay, Sir?”

Xander blinked, twisted his head side to
side slowly. “No. I’m feeling kind of homicidal.” He took a step
forward. “I’m gonna have to kill this guy.”

“Get in line.” Kizzie chuckled nervously and
stepped back. “I just… wanted you to know for some reason.”

“You were gonna let him touch my pussy.” He
took another step. “Did you want to fuck him?”

Now would be a good time to lie. Instead,
she stayed on course with being straight up and shuffled back
again. “Yeah, I did.”

One heavy hand came up to her hair. The
other to her neck. He squeezed the muscles there. Hard.

Right on the edge of pain.

A shudder shimmied through her as Xander
craned her head back.

“Why?”

Oh, hell, he was pushing the limits here.
Another blind step back and her heels wobbled. “We have a history.
He was there. And
somebody
told me I couldn’t play with his
toys and that made this little subbie all kinds’a horny.”

“But I didn’t say no one else could play
with my toys. You could have fucked him. So what stopped you?”

Billion dollar question.

Another step forward. Another back.

Kizzie had been all set to go through with
doin’ the damn thang with Lennox— even
after
finding out
he’d lied about cooking. He was there, willing, and would help
scratch the itch. They could walk away from it unscathed. Sex would
still just be sex. No gumming up the works with emotions.

But going through the motions wouldn’t be
enough. She
wanted
to feel something, and for that she
wanted Xander.

Needed him.

“Why didn’t you fuck him?” he asked.

That pain she’d been ignoring kicked up in
her chest hard. Clawing. Twisting. Grinding.

And it was time to face it.

“‘Cause I don’t belong to him, X,” she
whispered, head shaking the tiniest bit.

The backs of her thighs met the padded edge
of the pool table. And then Xander had her pinned at the front, his
hard body pressed to hers.

“Who do you belong to?”

A tickle shot through her belly. “You.”

The truth, but it didn’t solve the problem.
No, the ache behind her ribs intensified to the point where
breathing was an issue. Her heart fluttered. She sucked down a
breath, but the odd sensation was still there.

And spreading.

The tight up do suddenly went lax, and her
hair brushed against her shoulders. Xander raked his fingers over
her scalp slowly. Gently. “Good girl.”

“You… believe me?”

“Why wouldn’t I? I told you, sweetheart,
relationships are built on trust. Jacket.”

Reflexively, Kizzie’s hands smoothed up his
chest, and then out and over his broad shoulders. She peeled his
coat off of him, folded it lengthwise, and carefully draped it over
the side of the table.

Xander smiled like that pleased him.

And putting that bright arc on his face
pleased her.

“So, full disclosure,” he said.

Kizzie’s stomach bottomed out somewhere near
her gold stilettos. Giving bad news was one thing. Hearing it?

Xander cupped her face in his hand and
brought his lips to hers again in the softest kiss she’d ever had
in her life. “Had I called, I would’ve made it so much worse for
you. I would have made you do all sorts of things while I
listened.”

He kissed her again and she moaned into his
mouth. His tongue stroked over hers in that slow, methodical way of
his that had her eyes riding half mast and her hands clutching at
his low back. Every inch of her was against him and still she
couldn’t get him close enough. A tremble started in her belly and
radiated outward, priming every cell in her body with need.

“Would have made you touch yourself,” he
breathed across her lips. Nipped her hard and kissed away the
sting. “Had you get my pussy
nice
and juicy while I told you
everything I’ve been fantasizing about doing to you. Starting with
this mouth.”

He grazed her lower lip with his thumb.
“Want me to fuck your mouth, Princess?”

Eyes on his, she licked the head of his
digit in response.

Xander eased his thumb past her parted lips,
thrusting it slowly against her tongue. His hard shaft pressed into
her low belly, a cosign if ever there was one.

Kizzie sucked him down hungrily, familiar
heat pooling low in her pelvis. Her clit throbbed as he pumped
faster. Deeper. In and out and in again, mimicking what she hoped
they’d be doing soon.

Xander groaned low in his throat and his
voice darkened. “I’d have made you moan, listened as you got closer
and closer to coming for me. And then, right before you flew
apart—” his thumb pulled free with a wet
pop!
— “I’d’ve hung
up.”

She frowned. “You’d have called back though,
right?”

Another kiss to her open mouth, this one
even more drugging and addictive than the ones before. Whimpering,
Kizzie melted against him, fully prepared to go wherever he wanted
to take her. The trip was far too short for her liking as Xander
pulled back again, nodding.

“Yeah. Twenty, maybe thirty minutes later.
We’d have to start all over again, though, wouldn’t we?”

She nodded, parting her lips, waiting for
his thumb… or whatever else he wanted to fill her mouth with.

But nothing came.

“I’d have hung up then, too.”

Well, now, wait a minute…

Her forehead muscles got another workout,
crunching down tight. If he kept this up she would wrinkle
prematurely. “Would you have called back?”

“Would you have answered?”

“Yes, Sir,” she said without hesitating.

Xander cocked his head, that scarred brow of
his lifting. “I might have never given you permission to come.”

“I know. But good girls get to come
eventually.”

Another smile split his face. “And you’ve
been a good girl?”

“A
saint
.” She let out an exasperated
breath. “Pope’s gonna have me canonized next week. You should come…
or let
me
…”

Xander laughed, his deep rumble rocking
through her whole body. She let her eyes and ears drink him in.

God, I missed you.

The sound cut out abruptly, and then Xander
had that gaze of his pinned on her like she'd—

Ah, hell.

“I said that out loud, didn't I?”

“Yeah. Why are you embarrassed about
that?”

Kizzie looked away and he brought her shy
gaze back to his steady one with a firm hand at her jaw. “Why,
Princess?”

“It’s,” she rolled a shoulder to her ear,
“weird for me to say it to someone. Haven't had anyone to miss in a
really long time.” That pain started up again, banging behind her
rib cage like a Velociraptor trying to break out.

“I'm glad I'm the man you get to say it to.”
He pressed his lips to her forehead then reached behind her,
forcing her to lean back. “What’s in this purse?”

Xander rifled through her clutch, ignoring
her phone, the compact, digging, digging, digging. Pulled a stubby
black tube from the bag. Setting the rest aside, he uncapped the
barrel and twisted the bottom. A slender red cylinder shot up from
the base and he nodded.

Confused, Kizzie cocked her brow.

“Making sure you have extra. ‘Cause we’re
gonna fuck up your lipstick.” He winked and stepped away. “Strip.
Slowly.”

Kizzie hopped to it, carefully separating
the tata tape from the girls and pushing the dress from her
shoulders. The gown slithered to the floor and pooled at her
feet.

Xander’s gaze roamed over her near-naked
flesh, stopped somewhere around her thighs. “Why bother?”

She glanced down at the holster with her
weapons in it. Shrugged. “Got a dangerous job. I have to be
prepared, Sir.”

“Not those.
Those
.”

Another peek down at the silky white
triangle between her legs. A corner of her mouth tipped up. “Oh.
It’s drafty out.”

He chuckled as she unfastened her thigh
holster and set it on the table. Fingers in the band of her
panties, she dragged them down her legs.

“Leave the shoes.”

But of course. They weren’t called Fuck Me
Heels for nothin’…

“Good, Princess. Very good. Belt.”

She eyed the gold buckle at his waist and
grinned. “With my mouth, Sir?”

“Hands.”

Spoilsport. She undid the clasp, fighting
the urge to
accidentally
stroke the back of her hand along
his shaft. Pulled the belt from his waist, relishing that soft hiss
as the leather slid against the fabric of his pants.

“Will this be my second favorite belt,
Sir?”

“Maybe. I owe you twenty-eight from
Tokyo.”

Twenty-eight? Kizzie’s eyes widened and a
smile split her face. She hadn’t forgotten the punishment. Thank
god he hadn’t either. She chucked a thumb over her shoulder.
“Couch?”

“No. And we’re gonna step this up.” Xander
took the belt from her hand and folded it in half.

Her smile fell.

She glanced up at him, then down at the
doubled-over strip of black leather. Then back at him.

His eyes were practically opaque as he
stared at her, the intensity in the depths amplified.

“With… that?”

He nodded. Rolled up the cuffs of his shirt
until his muscled forearms were exposed. “Twenty-eight by hand, or
ten with the belt. I’m feeling nice, so you get to choose.”

Hand, definitely. Because she knew what
she’d be getting and she knew she could handle it. Belts were
designed for holding up trousers and accentuating blouses. Not for
spanking Kizzies.

But ten and it would be over with.

“Will you fuck me after?”

“I might. Might not.”

Her eyes narrowed. Not knowing made the
decision harder. If she got it by hand, at least she’d have that
pleasant sensation lingering through her. No idea what would come
from the belt, but chances were good
she
wouldn’t.

Kizzie studied his face, hoping to see what
he preferred, but those dark eyes gave her nothing. This decision
was squarely on her shoulders. Would she stick with what she knew,
or trust her Dom to push her out of her comfort zone? Take her
closer to her limits?

“Belt,” she finally said.

Xander’s face remained a mask. Without a
word, he guided her to the pool table and turned her so her thighs
were against the edge. He pushed down on her back, bending her
over. Slipped a leg between hers and tapped her foot with his.

She spread ‘em wide.

“More,” he ordered. “Good.”

Kizzie stood there, breasts mashed to the
felt table and ass tipped way up, ready for the first strike. She
focused on the wet bar across the way, breathing slowly to clear
away the nerves dancing the jitterbug in her belly. Waiting made it
so much worse, and it took everything in her not to squirm.

An eternity passed before Xander smoothed
his palm down her back, over the globes of her ass and lower, until
his fingertips slipped along the mouth of her pussy. She
groaned.

“Wet for me already,” he whispered. “Love
that.”

He patted her lips, and she dropped her
forehead, working hard not to push back and get him deeper. He
grazed her clit, fingers rubbing and circling. She clenched her
teeth and lids shut.

Then he was gone.

The first lash came down fast, landing with
a solid
whap!
that stole her breath. Her eyes and mouth went
wide, and she popped upright. Probably against protocol, but
gaaaah
damn
that hurt!

Shifting from one foot to the next, she bit
her lip hard and squeaked out. “One, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”

No way they could get easier, and there were
nine to go.

“You can always use your safe word,” Xander
reminded, his hard voice coming from a land far far away.

She could. But if she did that she wouldn’t
know her limits. Cringing, she shook her head.

“Bend over,” Xander commanded. “Don’t
move.”

Kizzie hinged at the waist, dropped her face
back to the green felt. Her arms snaked out in front of her, hands
flat against the table’s soft surface.

Heartbeats and harsh breaths were the only
noises she could make out. Both of them hers. Everything else in
the room was silent and still. Like Xander wasn’t there at all.

She focused on the beats. A little fast, but
no less steady.

Whap!

The second smack landed squarely on her
other cheek. A curse word or seven lodged in her throat but a moan
slipped out around them.

“Two, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”

Fingertips grazed her low back and she
flinched. That triggered the shakes in her legs and suddenly she
wasn’t sure she’d be able to keep standing.

The light touch disappeared. Or maybe it was
still there…

Whap!

“Oooo.” She winced as the pain from the
first strike reignited. Another smack followed and lightning
streaked up her back and down her legs at once.

Her fingers curled on the felt, nails
scratching into the surface.

“What’s the count?”

“Three and four, Sir. Sorry, Sir. Thank you,
Sir.”

Another pause, like he was letting them sink
in slowly. She wanted him to do it fast. She wanted them over
with.

Another landed. She gasped.

“Wait, Sir! Please!”

“You all right?”

Kizzie bent her elbows and clasped her hands
at the back of her neck, squeezing hard. The pain on her ass was on
thing, but that clawing in her chest chose that exact moment to
make itself known with a vengeance.

“Princess?”

Kizzie sucked down a breath and bobbed her
head. ‘Five’ almost came out a four-letter word.

He touched the belt to one cheek, like he
was lining up his strike, and then two more hits came back to
back.

Her knees almost buckled as she screamed.
Called out the count in a language that couldn’t possibly be
English.