But the truth was, that was exactly what she felt like doing now. She felt dizzy with nervous anticipation. Had she really just asked a man to spank her? Not just asked, but practically begged?
What was happening to her? Was she going to lose her hard-earned sense of self and independence at the hands of this dominant man? Would she become like slave m., forsaking everything in her life but the man she lived to please? Would she become so consumed in the fantasy that it affected her career, robbing her of the backbone of steel required to make it as a surgeon?
Getting to his feet, Hayden reached out for her hand. Silently, he led her to the bedroom. She expected him to sit as before and pat his lap. Instead, he pressed her against the wall just inside the door, using his hand on her throat to hold her in place. The dominant gesture shot like heat lightning through her core, at once firing her blood and weakening her knees.
His large hand still around her throat, he kissed her mouth while his other hand found and cupped her sex. She was already wet and throbbing, and she groaned when he slid a hard finger inside her. She would have fallen to the floor if he hadn’t held her in place.
Rubbing and stroking her as if they’d always been lovers, he brought her with embarrassing rapidity to what was promising to be a very powerful climax. But in the seconds before orgasm, he abruptly pulled away, letting her go.
She fell forward, panting with frustration. She’d been so close.
“Don’t you dare come without permission,” Hayden growled in a low sexy voice. “My sub girls have to earn their pleasure. Come over to the bed.”
Her brain stuttered a moment on his use of the plural, but she was too turned on to focus overmuch. She stumbled along behind him. He sat on the edge of the mattress but, instead of having her lie on his thighs, he gestured toward the nightstand.
“Open the second drawer and take out the leather paddle.”
Heart leaping in her throat, Dahlia went to the drawer and pulled it open. There were leather wrist cuffs, a small hank of rope, some clips and two zipped velvet pouches. Then she saw the paddle. The handle was wooden, the paddle itself covered in smooth black leather. It was the size and shape of a ping pong paddle. As she drew it out of the drawer, she saw that the other side was covered in a soft, silky fur that reminded her of a faux-rabbit fur jacket she’d treasured in middle school. With a trembling hand, she held it out to him.
“Good girl,” he said softly, accepting the paddle. His hooded eyes glittered with power.
“Now lie over my knees and get what’s coming to you.”
His words sent a zing of edgy excitement through her as she lowered herself somewhat awkwardly over his lap. His erection was rock-hard against her hip. His hand came to rest against her lower back, startling her.
“Relax, Dahlia,” he said, his voice gentle, his touch reassuring. “Remember, while I control the immediate scene, the sub has ultimate control. If at any time you feel the need, you can use your safeword.”
An anticipatory shot of adrenaline spurted through her bloodstream. Would the paddle leave marks? What if she couldn’t handle it? What if she freaked out?
Rosebud, she reminded herself. You can do this.
He tapped the leather side of the paddle against her bottom. It stung a little, but it wasn’t so bad. It actually felt quite good. She relaxed into the rhythm as the paddle warmed her skin.
The first real swat made her gasp with both pain and surprise.
“Breathe,” he instructed. “Flow with it.”
She realized she’d been holding her breath. She drew air into her lungs with a sigh.
He kept up the steady, stinging strokes, smacking first one cheek, then the other. Tears sprang to her eyes, her breath now fast and shallow in her throat. The paddle hurt. Oh, yes, it absolutely hurt. It burned along her nerve endings, but as it reached her brain, it edged into something darkly sexy and absolutely necessary.
“You’re doing really well,” Hayden said from above her. He smacked her again, covering both cheeks and making her yelp. He paused a moment, running his palm lightly over her hot skin and slipping his fingers between her legs. They glided sensually along her swollen folds and flicked lightly over her aching clit.
“Oh, god,” she moaned. Her ass flamed, her cunt throbbed, her heart raced. She was ready to come again within moments. “Please, Sir. Can I—”
Abruptly, his hand fell away. “Absolutely not. You haven’t earned it yet.”
She bit back a cry of pure frustration. At the same time, a part of her thrilled to his masterful control of her body, of her orgasm…of her.