Dark Attraction: The Corde Noire Series (21 page)

Her hands were so gentle, her fingers just brushed along his skin, sending waves of electricity crashing into his groin. When her lips touched his tip, he dug his nails into the soft fabric of the sofa.

“Move me slowly in and out of your mouth.” He raised his hips slightly as she maneuvered his cock deeper into her mouth.

Her mouth felt so good. Sebastian wanted to close his eyes, sit back, and enjoy it, but he needed to concentrate.

“That’s it.” He gritted his teeth as she pushed him to the back of her throat.

Oh, God
. 

Sam began banging his tip against the back of her throat, driving him crazy. She was really good at this. Her lips were so tight around him. His nails dug deeper into the sofa.

It did not take long for that fire to erupt in his balls. She was making him come faster than anyone. He tried to force down the sensation, holding off, but her mouth was too damn tempting. When the eruption started, he put his hands on her head, pumping her up and down.

“I’m going to come in your mouth. And you’re going to take it.”

He closed his eyes, rocking his hips. He groaned as he exploded into her mouth. He wanted to cry out but held back. She was taking him, swallowing his cum, which only added to his orgasm.

Sebastian was resting against the sofa, his eyes closed as she climbed into his lap. Her lips were on his neck.

“I liked that.” She kissed his neck. “I liked having you under my power.”    

Her words disturbed him. He had been under her power since the first day he had seen her in his mother’s ICU room.

Picking her up in his arms, Sebastian flipped her on the sofa. “Your power?”

He needed to show her he was the one in control. He climbed on top of her, pressing her face into the cushions. 

“I’m not under your power.” The first slap on her ass, she wiggled beneath him. “I am your Dom … say it, Sam.”

“You’re my Dom,” she echoed, her voice muffled by the sofa cushions.

The second slap, he felt her body shudder. “Repeat, I am yours to control.”

“I am yours to control.” Her voice trembled as she spoke.

The last slap across her right butt cheek made it turn a nice shade of pink. “Tell me you are mine,” he growled, his lips next to her ear

She whimpered beneath him. “I’m yours, Sir.”

He shifted off her back and sat on the edge of the sofa, shaking. Combing his hand through his hair, he fought to regain control.

“What did I do wrong?” she questioned, sitting up beside him.

“You’re never to think you have any power over me, Sam. I tell you what to do, how to do it, what to say, what to be. It’s time you understood that.” He got up from the sofa.

“I’m sorry.”

Closing his eyes, he shot down the urge to take her in his arms and kiss away all of her misery. “Let’s get started on teaching you how to not burn down my kitchen.”

“Are you angry with me?”

Her words cut through him. “No, Sam. I’m not angry.”

Avoiding his eyes, she stood from the sofa and walked into his kitchen. Watching her little ass wiggle in front of him only made him feel even more like an asshole.

*     *     *

Sam was fast asleep when Sebastian climbed from the bed. His mind was restless, mostly with thoughts of her. He had stuck to his decision not to touch her for the rest of the evening. She needed to go without pleasure for a while. He had to make it a reward; he had to make her work for it. Sadly, part of him didn’t want to stick to that plan.

Thoughts of fucking her made him clench his jaw. Had it been this hard with the others?
No. With them, it had been straight submission, nothing … emotional.

Leaving his bedroom, he itched for something to cut the turmoil seeping into his soul. In his office, he went to his desk and opened the bottom drawer. Pulling out the bottle of scotch he kept there, he unscrewed the cap and eased back in his black leather desk chair. The first swig he took burned all the way down. The second made him feel better. The third, finally, quieted the “what if’s” circling in his head. Resting his head back against his chair, he closed his eyes and enjoyed the peace.

“Are you okay?”

He opened his eyes to see her sashaying toward his desk, those tantalizing slim hips swinging side to side.

“Just got a lot on my mind.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“It’s business.” He put the bottle back in the bottom drawer.

She came around to his chair. “Maybe I can help.”

“I don’t discuss my business with my subs.” He fingered her collar. “Go back to bed.”

The disappointment in her face was gut-wrenching. As she walked out of his office, Sebastian blew out a long breath from his pursed lips.

“Shit.”

Opening up the bottom drawer, he removed the bottle of scotch. He needed a lot more alcohol before he would be able to climb back into bed and not hold her in his arms.  

The next morning Sebastian was different. Sam could feel it. The man she had first met as Doug had disappeared behind the cool exterior of her Dom. She wasn’t sure if it was something she did to displease him or pressures from his business. Sam longed to help him in some way but, figured it wasn’t her place. He had made that very clear the night before.

As she puttered in the kitchen, Sam was also mindful of the fact that he had not touched her since the spanking the night before. Later on, in the kitchen—when he had taught her how to execute an omelet and scrambled eggs properly—he had made a point of not getting close to her. He had been polite, praised her when she got something right, but had never once touched her. Even that morning in the shower, she had bathed him, but he had taken the washcloth away before she could finish, claiming he was in a hurry to get to work. After days of being in his arms and treasuring his caress, the emptiness was devastating.      

Sam stood in the kitchen, unsure of when everything had changed, and waited for him to come down for his coffee and her first attempt at a cheese omelet. When Sebastian entered the kitchen and saw the omelet, his smile warmed her heart.

He cleaved off the top portion of the omelet with his fork. Inspecting the piece before putting it in his mouth, he chewed as she waited anxiously.

“It’s good,” he reported. “You’re a quick study.”

Sam wanted to jump up and down. “You only have to show me once, and I usually get it.”

He went to the coffeemaker. “So I’ve noticed.”

She blushed, thinking of what she had done to him the evening before on the sofa.

“I have some new homework for you,” Sebastian announced as he poured his coffee.

Hope sprang to life in Sam. Maybe he was over his glum mood.

“Today, I want you to pick out something you would like me to use on you during a spanking session. It can be anything in this penthouse, preferably something hard that will make a nice cracking sound when I swat it against your butt.”

“You want me to find something for you to spank me with?”

He took his coffee to his plate on the kitchen island. “Didn’t I just say that?”

“But why do you want to spank me at all?”

He glanced up at her, his eyes as cold as winter. “Because I’m going to spank you when I come home this evening, but I’m going to let you pick the instrument I’m to spank you with. You need to choose what you can tolerate the best against that delicate ass of yours.”

“But what have I done wrong?”

He held back his black tie as he took a bite of his omelet. “Nothing.” He finished chewing and swallowed his food. “I enjoy spankings, and many of my subs enjoyed being spanked. You must learn to enjoy it, too. So tonight, we will work on that.” He hacked off another portion of his omelet. “After, I will teach you to cook chicken enchiladas. I love chicken enchiladas, remember that.” He sipped his coffee. “I’ll make you a list of my favorite dishes.”

Sam stood at the kitchen counter, twisting her hands together. Why was she feeling sick to her stomach? This was not what she had thought being his sub would entail. Spanking was fun, even pleasurable the way he did it, but to be his whipping post … that was something she wasn’t sure she could abide.
     He chewed a slice of his omelet and then took a quick slurp of his coffee. “I will text you when I’m coming home. I want you waiting at the front door with the implement of your choice in hand.”     

“Yes, Sir,” she mumbled.

Turning away, Sebastian exited the kitchen without so much as a kiss or a wave. After she heard the front door slam, Sam felt utterly alone. Sam stood in the kitchen trying to figure out when she had turned into this person; the one who had needed his praise and affection.

Overnight, she had become addicted. Sam hadn’t even been his sub for two days, and already she was losing her sense of self and replacing it with her sense of him.

Wiping her hands over her face, she gazed down at her nude body and started chuckling. “What in the hell is wrong with me?”

Sam already knew the answer, but she was damned if she would say it. Being in love with a man like Sebastian Dane would only lead to heartache.

*     *     *

Sam began her hunt for the perfect spanking implement. She briefly entertained the idea of the kitchen spoon he had first used on her, but decided that he had given her a challenge. It was time to show him she could be a crafty sub when the need arose.

She started in the bathroom, looking for something hard that would make noise when slapped against her. She found a loofa sponge in his linen closet. Sam smacked it a few times against her bottom, but it didn’t make the required noise. She also used her toothbrush, a large bottle of Listerine, a tube of K-Y Jelly sitting in a bottom vanity drawer, and a scrub brush with a long wooden handle. No way.

Out of ideas in the bathroom, she moved on to his closet. The first thing Sam went to was his collection of belts, but they reminded her of the spankings her father used to give her when she was a small girl. That was out. She took a moment to run her hands over his clothes and luxuriate in the smell of him. Closing her eyes, she thought of hands, his butt, the way his cock had felt in her mouth, and that moment when he had come. She had always heard from other girls how gross it was. Still, Sam had found it liberating. It had been a way for her to control him.

Back in the bedroom, she eyed the pillows on the bed, but knew they were not worth considering. Giving up, she headed to his office, anxious to see if he had anything useful in there.

Sam entered the windowless room and remembered him sitting behind his desk the night before, drinking. Pulling out the bottom drawer, she inspected the bottle and was impressed with his choice of scotch.

Her mother had been a scotch drinker. Sam had learned more than she cared to about the different brands and grades by reading the labels on the empty bottles she had found hidden around their home.

Brushing away the visions of her unhappy childhood, Sam perused the books cluttering the bookcases. There were so many. Sebastian never struck her as a bookworm. But then again, what did she know about him?

“Sebastian Dane is a complete mystery to you, Sam.”

The chuckle of a man reverberated in the room.

Sam’s first instinct was to hide her nakedness, but then the slight haze of mist gathering in the corner of the room washed away her apprehension.

“So you can do something other than toss plates in the kitchen.”

Inside the mist she saw the figure of a man forming. He was tall, thick like Sebastian, and even had the same chiseled features and stern blue eyes.

They kept their distance, taking a few moments to study each other, but for Sam, the ghost afforded her a glimpse into Sebastian’s future. He would remain a devastatingly handsome man as he grew older, the spitting image of his father.

“Hello, Mr. Dane.” The ghost’s piercing eyes stayed focused on her naked body. “I can see where Sebastian gets his libido from.”

Another snicker filled the air.

Crossing her arms, she took a step closer. “You ever consider appearing to your son? He might benefit from it more than me.”

An angry
pop
echoed throughout the office, and then the ghost was gone.

Rolling her eyes at his abrupt departure, Sam concluded that Sebastian and his father had more in common than their looks.

“You both hate being told what to do.”
     Annoyed by her encounter with Jack Dane, Sam headed downstairs to continue her search. Crossing the dark hardwood floors, she strolled into the kitchen. Going through the drawers, she found a vast array of things to use. The spatula was comfortable, but didn’t sound loud enough for Sebastian’s tastes. She tried a whisk, a metal serving spoon, a pair of chopsticks, dried spaghetti, a Tupperware lid, an ice cube tray, a potholder made of leather, a plastic ladle, a plastic strainer, and when she had run out of ideas, she took the roll of paper towels hanging over the sink and tore away all the paper until she was left with the cardboard roll.

Frustrated, and with her butt beginning to smart, Sam rested her elbows on the cold granite countertop and pondered her dilemma. When he walked in the door, he would be expecting her to hand him something, but what?

She thought back to the times he had spanked her. Of all the items he had ever used on her, there was only one that had ever felt good.

Smiling, Sam realized she had found her object. It was the only thing she ever wanted him to use on her again.

Her black iPhone pinged with an incoming text.

Are you making progress on your homework?

Smirking, she texted Sebastian back. 

“Let him chew on that,” she said with a chuckle.

*     *     *

Anxious to see her, Sebastian typed in the combination on the keypad by the door. His day had been trying enough without thinking of her every five minutes. He had texted her repeatedly checking on her progress, and every response had come back the same.

I have something that will please you, Sir.  

The anticipation was killing him.

When he walked through the door, she was there, naked except for the black collar around her neck, looking delicious and smiling sweetly up at him. Sebastian descended the short steps to her side.

“So what have you come up with?” He pointed to her empty hands. “I don’t see anything.”

Sebastian waited as she glided up to him.

She took his right hand and held it. “I want to feel this on me and only this.”

He almost fucked her right there and then. “Good answer.”

Hiding his grin, he strode past her while removing his cream suit jacket and black tie. He went to the stairs, wanting to get her in the bedroom, where he could act on the fantasies he had been creating all day. As he climbed the steps, he heard her light footfalls behind him. Keeping his eyes ahead, he plotted out what he would do to her first. Depending on how well she handled his spanking, he would reward her. If she cried and fought him, he would punish her again.

Entering his bedroom, his cock got hard.

Yeah, this is exactly what I need.

He set his jacket and tie on the bed. “I want you on the bed, face down, and I don’t want to hear a peep out of you until I reach your threshold. Then use the safe word,
cat
. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir,” she uttered, climbing onto his bed.

Those blue eyes taunted him as she lay face down. Rolling up his sleeves and removing his watch, he left her on the bed and went to the bathroom and retrieved the small bottle of almond oil he had used on her before. He was going to take his time and enjoy this.

Sitting on the bed, he examined her succulent ass. Round like two globes, it was a perfect shade of white, smooth, and all his. He poured the oil in his hands and then rubbed it over her bottom, taking control of his possession. After he had oiled her skin, he made sure to slide his oiled thumb between her cheeks, teasing her.       

Putting the oil aside, he stared at her bottom, deciding on which side to start. With a light, warm tapping, he moved from her left cheek to her right cheek, admiring the pink hue coming up on her skin. He listened as he spanked her, wanting to know if she was tolerating it. She never made a sound. Happy with her progress, he began smacking her harder. She shifted her legs, a sure sign it was uncomfortable. He stopped and rubbed more oil on her butt.

As he increased the intensity of his slaps, he marveled at how she took it. Her butt was red and her skin was covered with a light film of sweat. She was breathing hard, but did not look as if she was sobbing, so he continued.

Spanking her, watching her endure his punishment without saying a word, was exciting him. When he felt the shirt clinging to his back, he stopped. She was shivering, her butt was beet red, and he could see the beads of sweat running off her back.

Unbuttoning his shirt, he leaned over to her ear. “Did you like that?”

Her breath was uneven and her voice weak. “Yes, Sir.”

“What did you like about it?”

She rolled over and faced him. There were tears in her eyes, but not on her cheeks. “I liked that you were … touching me.”