I need to get close to him. I need to get into his good graces and find out everything I can about him. I won’t make any headway at all if he’s even the slightest bit suspicious.
So I cast my eyes down the way I would imagine a repentant submissive would. “Yes, sir,” I say. I ignore the little thrill of delight that snakes through me at the words. It’s an act. All an act.
He pushes off the bar and stalks to me. My heart flutters in my chest as music filters through the speakers, like the soundtrack to my night.
He's so tall and handsome as hell
He's so bad but he does it so well
With trembling hands, I do as he says and move the tray of glasses to the bar. I return to the bench, keenly aware that if he’s pushing me over this table here, I’m getting punished in front of a crowd.
Not sure how I feel about that.
When he reaches me, he grasps my chin between his thumb and finger.
“I’ve missed you.” Before I can process the words his lips are on mine, his tongue’s plundering my mouth. I’m on my toes and my arms are around his neck. I’m drowning in the scent he’s woven around me like magic, a true incantation that’s numbed my brain and seduced me. He could lead me to my death and I’d die a happy woman.
I whimper a little when he takes his mouth off mine and whispers in my ear. “Bench, doll. You’ll take Daddy’s belt for your naughtiness.”
Zing.
Electric currents of arousal spike through my veins like spiced whiskey, hot and consuming. I got a taste of his belt last night, but hearing him say it like this…
I’m on autopilot as I obey him. I have no recollection of stepping toward the bench, no conscious or deliberate act until my belly’s pushed up against the leather and my chin hits air. My arms dangle helplessly in front of me, and I’m oh-so-aware that my ass, wrapped in a tight leather skirt, is on prominent display.
I hear the click of the buckle, the whir of leather. I brace myself for the first strike, half expecting the music to stop and all noise to cease as he punishes me, but everything goes on around us as before. I hold my breath, then release it when his large palm settles in the small of my back.
“Five for stealing my wallet and my phone.” He leans in, his voice at my ear. The husky, rough sound of his voice makes me breathless. “Ten for leaving without saying goodbye.”
My brain can hardly process what he’s said until the first whistle of leather and searing smack. Leather against leather sounds like a gunshot. I gasp. I’m not sure if I’m relieved or disappointed he hasn’t lifted my skirt.
Pain flares to heat, and I’m up on my toes for the second, third, and fourth smack of his belt. I can’t open my eyes, I’m so consumed by this.
“Count, doll.”
I squeak out a “four” because that’s where I think we’re at when I get another, harder smack. “We were at five, but four works for me.” His tone is hard and corrective, and for one brief moment I wonder if he isn’t… really into this. Like… very determined to actually punish me, and not just for fun.
I count my way to the last three smacks, when he whispers in my ear, “Bring your hand to your pussy and stroke yourself in between the last lashes. Do you understand me?”
I nod wildly and spread my legs; it’s no easy feat to obey him since the skirt’s so dang tight. Still, I’m as eager to feel pressure there as he is to command it, so I find my swollen pussy and do what he says.
“Thirteen,” I choke out, while I work myself toward climax. “Fourteen. Fifteen,” I gasp when the last lash falls.
Then he’s behind me, his flank pressed up against me, and I can feel the hard jab of his cock against my ass. Is he going to… right here?
He grinds himself against me, his body pressing me against the bench.
“Hand them over, doll,” he whispers.
With trembling hands, I reach into my coat pocket and give him the wallet and phone. I took out the cash, but didn’t spend it. I want him to think it was the money I was going for, not the information.
“Thank you. You find anything interesting?”
I shake my head, my cheeks flushing. I thought I’d learned to school my features so that a lie isn’t as obvious as it could be, but apparently not when I’m freshly spanked and lying beneath his Greek god of a body.
I feel him slide the wallet and phone into his pocket. He wraps my hair around his fist and pulls my head to the side so he can kiss my cheek. The feel of the tug of hair is deliciously painful.