physically in any lasting way. But fuck with her mind? He couldn’t wait.
“Turn around. Bend over the sofa.” When she hesitated, he sent her a warning glare. “You’re trying my patience.”
Finally, she turned, still looking at him over her shoulder, as if she didn’t quite trust his mood…or him.
“Head down.” Once she’d complied, he sidled closer and growled in her ear. “Hands at the small of your back.”
She shivered and arched, pointing her ass in the air. “As soon as I show you this.”
Gwyneth grabbed her cheeks and eased them apart. Idly, he realized she’d even waxed and bleached there. He leaned over her back so he didn’t have to see that again.
“I didn’t ask you to show me anything.” When she didn’t respond, he curled his fingers into her hair and tugged, knowing it stung her scalp just a bit. “Did I?”
“Oh, Liam… You have changed. Y-you’re so thrilling.”
“Excellent. Just think, Gwyneth. Every day will be like this for us if I come back to you. Would you like that?”
She nodded, her skin flushing.
“I’m sure you would. You’ll surrender your will to me and beg me to use you like the dirty slut you are.”
Gwyneth froze. She’d never heard him talk like this. Probably never even imagined he could.
Liam sent her a cold smile. “Won’t you?”
She peeked back at him. “I…um, yes.”
“Head down,” he warned again. Reluctantly, she turned away and focused on the couch cushions again. “Say it. Beg me to make you a dirty slut.”
She struggled for breath now. “Liam… Why are you using that terrible slur?”
Because that’s what you called Raine. “It’s a term of endearment to a Dom. Say it or give me your safe word.”
He heard her swallow. Her entire body tensed. She fought herself. Balk and risk losing him or say something that went absolutely against her grain? On the one hand, if she bailed now, he could end this farce, have a hot meal and a shower, then hold Raine in his arms. On the other hand…jerking Gwyneth around was more than a wee bit of fun.
“Make me your dirty slut, Liam,” she breathed out, sounding as excited as someone holding toxic waste.
“Who am I?” He tugged a bit harder on her hair.
“Master.”
Liam grimaced, then reached into Beck’s bag of tricks and rummaged around. Not surprisingly, he found exactly what he needed.
“Yes. I’m the Master. You’re the slut. See?” He shoved the impression paddle he clutched in Gwyneth’s face. “What will your skin say when I smack your ass with this?”
She stared at the leather implement, then blinked, looking horrified. “S-slut.”
“Isn’t that perfect?” He hissed in her ear. “While I punish you, I’ll mark you. Everyone who sees this ass for the next few days will know who and what you are.”
Bracing himself on the small of her back, he raised his arm and waited. Her body tensed. She squeezed her cheeks together. Gwyneth wasn’t submissive. Surely, she would safeword now so he could walk away from her “romantic” overtures. In twenty-four hours, when the swab in his pocket proved Kyle wasn’t his son, he’d never have to see her again.
Nearly ten seconds passed. She said nothing. He stared at her taut back as she held her breath. Did she really not intend to balk?
So be it…
He flung his arm down, snapping his wrist. The paddle met her flesh with a resounding smack. Gwyneth screamed and buried her face in the sofa cushion, muffling the god-awful sound. The word slut blossomed in a red welt across her stark white flesh. Liam smiled in satisfaction.
“Do you want another?”
“No!”
“Then stand up.”
Stiffly, she rose to her full height. She turned to him with an accusing glare, moisture welling in her eyes. Liam wondered if those were the first genuine tears she’d ever cried for him.
“You did well,” he praised softly. “Your ass will be a lovely shade of red for days.” He wended around the sofa and eased down, setting the paddle on his right and pointing to a spot on his left. “Sit here.”
Gwyneth frowned and followed with slow footsteps. Apparently, she’d already realized that sitting on leather was going to be bitterly cold and hurt even more.
Beside him now, she sank gingerly toward the sofa. The instant her ass made contact, she stood again. “I don’t think I can.”
“Breathe through the pain. It’s much easier than childbirth, and you survived that so well.”
She shot another glare in his direction.
“Or do you need to say that safe word? Like I said, I know that what I want now may be too much for you.”
Her face bunched up with determination, and she eased back down to the couch with a hiss. She wriggled, seeking a comfortable position, leaning on the unoffended cheek.
He slung an arm around her shoulder to set her flat again and nestled his lips against her ear. “Struggle for me. I like to watch you endure.”
Finally, she stilled, her whole body tense, eyes closed, shoulders halfway up her neck. “You do?”
When she squeaked the question, Liam bit the inside of his cheek. “Hmm. I’d like to see a bit more.” He reached around the side of the sofa and dragged the duffel to his feet. After a quick search inside, he found something else she was guaranteed to hate.
He unwrapped the little metal implements from their plastic packaging and handed them to her. “Put them on, slut.”
She tensed, her eyes narrowing. No doubt, she hated that word. Finally, she dragged her gaze back to the object in her palm. “What are they?”
“I thought you’d researched for me.” He sent her a disappointed scowl.
“I-I did. I just…” She shook her head. “I can’t recall. Jet lag’s got me a bit.”
“They’re Japanese clover clamps.” He sent her a raised brow. “For your nipples.”
Shock crossed Gwyneth’s face as she looked down at the molded metal. She studied the shiny pair of clamps, then turned them over in her hand with a frown.
He grabbed them and squeezed the sides. “Open them like so. Set your nipple between these rubber pads, then let go. They’ll pinch a wee bit.”
“Oh.” Her face tightened. “All right, then.”
When she took them from his hand, she looked less hesitant. That won’t last long…
He sent her a benign smile. “You’re doing fine, slut.”
She bristled again for a moment before she smoothed her expression and squeezed the sides of the clamps, trying to line them up with the hard tips of her breasts. Then she drew in a steadying breath and slowly let go.
Her eyes flew open. Her breath hitched. She looked at him as if he’d gone mad. Her high-pitched keening followed. She sounded a bit like a braying donkey.
“Help me. I can’t…” She gasped again and yanked the metal contraptions off. “Please!”
“You’re not ready for this?” He took the clamp away with a scowl, then tossed both on the coffee table. “Gwyneth, I’ve got to tell you… I don’t know if we’ll work out. I like a sub’s struggle through the pain. So far, you’ve done little but complain.”
“I’ll get better,” she vowed. “I need practice. Maybe…if we share a little pleasure first, then I’ll be able to do anything.” She reached for his zipper.
Before she could touch him, he snatched her wrist in his tight grip and scowled at her with a thunderous expression. “You don’t have permission to touch me.”
“Permission? I can’t be with you if I don’t touch you,” she wheedled. “This game is confusing, Liam.”
“Try to open your mind. Maybe we can work up to these tasks soon. For now, let’s try something that doesn’t involve pain.”
“Yes.” She latched on to his offer immediately. “I’d like that.”
He sent her an indulgent smile, knowing she’d hate what he planned next even more. “Wait right her
e.”
Liam rose and went into the kitchen. It took him a moment to search for a bowl, but he found one that would work well enough, then filled it with water and set it on the floor in front of the sink.
Repressing his smile of evil glee, he sauntered around the corner and hovered just inside the kitchen. “Come to me.”
With a wince, she did her best to rise from the leather sofa. But her raw backside stuck to the surface. She whimpered as she peeled herself free and rounded the arm of the couch.
“Stop,” he commanded. “You misunderstand me.”
She sent him a quizzical stare. “I’m coming to the kitchen, like you asked.”
He shook his head. “On your hands and knees.”
Gwyneth blanched. “You mean…crawl?”
“Precisely, slut. And wiggle your ass for me like you did when you were wearing your little bow.”
Her eyes bulged out. She gaped at him. “That arouses you?”
“As long as you’re the one crawling to me.”
She mulled his words for a long moment, clearly trying to decide if he meant them.
“I’ve given you an order,” he told her. “You know your choices. Don’t keep me waiting or I’ll get the paddle and I’ll be forced to smack your other cheek.”
Immediately, she fell to her hands and knees. Her head dropped. Her shoulders sagged. He almost had her right where he wanted her.
She winced and hissed with each little movement over the hardwood. It seemed to take forever, but she finally reached his feet.
“Now follow me into the kitchen. I’ve got a treat for you.”
Gwyneth didn’t look like she quite believed him. Liam ignored her skeptical stare and walked her to the bowl, holding her by the hair at her nape as if it were her scruff. She gave the bowl a bewildered stare.
“Drink,” he commanded. “Show me what a sweet little bitch you are. Lap up your water, then give me a happy bark.”
“A bark? Like a dog?” She launched to her feet. “Are you mad? This is ridiculous!”
He shot her a narrow-eyed glare, chest out, fists on his hips. “That’s not your safe word.”
“I can’t… I’m not a dog.” She shuddered. “It’s too vulgar.”
“You’re not one for puppy play?” He mocked a disappointed frown. “I suppose it’s important I know your limits now. I’ll grant this has been a tough day for you. But I hope you’ll be in a better frame of mind for this tomorrow.”
She sent him a stilted smile that told him hell would freeze over first, but she didn’t say a word.
“Why don’t we try some pleasure for now?” he suggested. “You haven’t earned it precisely, but I see some effort. I’ll reward that.”
She sent him a relieved smile. “Yes, please. Kyle is in the bedroom, so I suppose we can’t go there, but we have the sofa or the table or—”
“Show me how ready you are first.” He pulled out a chair. To his delight, the seat was made of a hard, solid wood—no cushion.
Gwyneth looked at it fretfully. “Can I have a towel or a pillow?”
He shook his head sternly. “If you sit, there might be an orgasm in your future.”
At that, she perked up and eased slowly into the seat. Immediately, she regretted her decision and cringed. Liam pressed his lips together to hold in a laugh.
“Wait here.” He meandered back to the bag of tricks and took his time searching through all the goodies inside. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was looking for but then…yes. He found the perfect toys.
Withdrawing the items he needed, Liam headed back into the kitchen, setting one on its side on the kitchen counter. This ought to finish her off…
“Spread your legs and brace your feet on either side of the chair’s legs,” he told her as he sauntered closer once more. “Nice and wide. Just like that.”
She did so quickly, as if she couldn’t wait to show him what lay between her legs. In fact, she looked proud of herself.
Yes, you were born with a vagina. Congratulations… Now you’ll find out it doesn’t always get you what you want.
Liam knelt at her feet, carefully positioning himself outside her spread thighs, then wrapped one cuff around the leg of the chair and her ankle, strapping them together and securing the Velcro. Crouching on the other side of her body, he repeated the process.
With her restrained to the chair, he rose to his full height and grabbed the other item, unwrapping it with a grin. Then he turned to her, holding it in his outstretched hand. “Suck this, slut. Get it wet. Then I want you to shove it in your cunt, nice and deep for me.”
Hesitantly, she took the dildo in her hand. Neon orange and the size of a freakishly large porn star, she stared down at the silicone, frozen. “It’s so large.”
“Indeed. Does it make you hot? I can’t wait to see you take it all.”
“It won’t fit,” she argued.
He scowled at her. “Of course it will. You’ve had a baby. This is much smaller than Kyle’s head, so you should have no trouble. Now stop being a mouthy slut and do as I say.”
Her mouth gaped open, then closed, only to open again. She sighed, then lifted the big tool to her lips. She looked more like she braced herself to suck a lemon than a phallus.
No matter how wide she parted her lips, she couldn’t wrap them completely around the dildo. She licked her lips, sighed in frustration, then tried to tongue the silicone. Grimacing at its taste, she finally resorted to drawing it close to her mouth and spitting on it gently.
Liam had to bite back a laugh. She’d probably never spit in her life, likely even refused to do it for the dentist. Well, she did spit after a blow job.
He smirked. “You’re doing fine. Yes… Now put it in your cunt.”
Gwyneth looked even more hesitant. “Really, I don’t think—”
“I didn’t ask you to think. I asked you to fuck that. To please me. All you’re doing is flapping your gums. How is that submission?”
She swallowed hard as she lowered the dildo to her opening. She wasn’t nearly wet enough to even try. Of course Gwyneth wasn’t aroused. What got her hot was being adored. She enjoyed that far more than actual sex.
As the silicone phallus touched her folds, the tip of it seemed to eclipse most of her pussy. A glance told him that she’d have to defy the laws of physics to make this fit.
Wearing a look of concentration, she pushed a little. Then a bit harder, shifting in her seat and wriggling, before wincing.
“Keep going. Shove that in your wee hole. Stretch it. Make it burn for me,” he encouraged.
She dropped the dildo to her side with a frustrated sigh. “Liam, shut up. You must know it won’t fit.”
“Shut up, is it? That doesn’t sound submissive at all,” he scolded.
She glowered at him, then tried to fix her expression. “What’s so wrong with normal sex? Let’s reconnect before we try dirty and deviant. I want to touch your skin, hold you close, feel you inside me. Maybe we can make another baby.”
Liam cringed, then tried to recover. “Are you safewording out, then?”
Gwyneth huffed. “Stop with these silly games. Honestly, bark like a dog? Do you really find that arousing?”