TangledBound (7 page)

Chapter Six

She was so turned-on, he could smell her arousal. Sam glared
at the elevator doors and cursed himself for being a fool. She’d manipulated
him and he’d succumbed despite his better judgment. Because he wanted her.
Because he didn’t
want
her surrendering to anybody else. Watching her
with Douglass, he’d realized that single truth. He might not trust that she
knew what she wanted, but he knew himself well enough to accept when his wants
outweighed his good sense. When the elevator reached his floor, he was relieved
to find the corridor empty. He wanted Melanie to suffer the embarrassment of
walking around stripped bare, since it was her idea, but he didn’t want to
share the view with anybody else. Stepping aside, he waved her out of the
elevator ahead of him.

“We’re going to room 703,” he said. “It’ll be on your left.”

“Could I have your shirt?” Melanie bit her lip before
adding, “Sir?”

“No.” He fixed her with an expectant stare and gestured
toward the hall.

To her credit, she didn’t fuss over his refusal. She stood
in the corner for a minute, arms across her chest, before she squared her
shoulders, lowered her hands and walked out ahead of him.

When he caught up to her, he pulled his key card out of his
wallet. Melanie stood silent beside the door, her hands balled into fists at
her hips.

Instead of immediately opening the door, he frowned at the
key card. “When’s the last time you were spanked?”

Her breath hitched. “My parents didn’t use corporal
punishment.”

“How did they correct you when you were disobedient or
reckless?”

“Time-outs, essays. Sometimes I lost things like Internet or
phone privileges.”

He slid the card through the reader and opened the door.
“Did any of that stuff actually work?”

Melanie shifted beside him. “I learned right from wrong.”

Sam paused with his hand on the doorknob and glanced at her
with a raised eyebrow. “Did you really?”

Her flush grew darker and spread to her upper chest.
“I…maybe this hasn’t been my finest decision-making hour.”

“Maybe not.” He smiled sardonically. “Go on in and we’ll
deal with your decision.”

She hesitated. A variety of emotions crossed her features
while she worked out his meaning and came to whatever decision prompted her to
step across the threshold into his hotel room. When Sam let the door swing
shut, she jumped—and finally realized her vulnerability, if the tense set of
her shoulders and arms crossed over her breasts were any indication.

He walked around her and pulled his suitcase off the room’s
second double bed. He found a clean t-shirt and a pair of running shorts and
tossed them on the foot of the unused bed.

Sam pulled a straight-back chair away from a small desk and
sat, facing her. Her bare, flat belly was a damn distraction that he had to
work hard to ignore. Worse than the dip of her navel, though, was what he
couldn’t see…or what he would be able to see if her panties had even a
centimeter less fabric.

Sam forced himself to focus on her face. “Here are your
options. You can get dressed, call the concierge and arrange for a replacement
key to be brought here immediately, and go back to your room where you’ll go to
sleep. Or you can put yourself across my knee, accept the ass-beating you very much
deserve, sleep here and get your replacement key in the morning. Do you have
any questions about your options?”

She licked her lips and averted her eyes, looking over the
room. His rational half prayed she’d choose to get dressed and go. His primal
half desperately wanted the chance to redden her ass with the flat of his
hand…and then bury his cock in her wet heat. He tried not to dwell on the
possibilities of the latter scenario.

“I do have a question,” she finally said. “Is it always this
way with you?”

“What way?”

“Please and Sir…and spankings…and all-or-nothing options.”
She swallowed and met his gaze. “I’m not complaining. I just want to know.”

Her question caught him off guard. Sam looked down at his
hands, considering what answer to give her. The short answer would probably
scare her away. The long answer would definitely scare her away.

Because some weak part of him wanted her to choose him, he
went with the short answer. “Yeah. It’s always this way.”

She stood silent for a minute, breathing shallow and quick
like someone fighting panic. Sam left her to her decision and didn’t look up
even when her pink-polished toes appeared in his line of sight.

“I’ve never done it this way before,” she said, the words
slow and careful around the shaky quality of her voice. “I mean, except that
once with you. I won’t know if I do something wrong until I’ve done it because
I don’t know your rules. You’ll have to tell me. I want to stay but I don’t
know what you want me to do.”

Fuck
. Sam closed his eyes. “Melanie—”

“You’ll have to straighten up so I can lie down across your
lap,” she said, interrupting his attempt to change her mind.

He nodded and lifted his head, settling back in the chair.
Melanie wasn’t covering her breasts anymore. She stood with her hands behind
her back and her chin tucked to her chest, a posture so inherently submissive
that Sam couldn’t contain the sense of possessiveness surging through him.

Not mine
.

Except he was lying to himself. Still, he said the words out
loud. “I’m not giving you any rules because you don’t belong to me. This isn’t
a permanent arrangement.”

Her breath hitched. “I need you to tell me what you want
from me. Please tell me.”

“I want you to make careful decisions about your safety.
What you did on the plane—what you did
tonight
was dangerous. You have
no idea what kind of man I am, what kind of things I could be doing to you
right now. What kind of things I could still do, with you powerless to stop
me.”

“I know what kind of man you are,” she said.

“Yeah? So when you took off your dress, you knew I would
respond by putting you across my knee?” He finally touched her, hands on her
hips to pull her forward. Her scent hit him full-force, powerful like a drug.
He wanted to run his tongue along her panties and taste the wetness soaking
through. Instead, he maneuvered her across his lap. “Face down, Melly. Both
hands on the floor.”

She stiffened and resisted, a physical response Sam quickly
overpowered with the advantages of strength and practice. The bare curve of her
ass, bisected by the skinny pink thong, shattered his barriers. He didn’t ask
to be responsible for her but he couldn’t deny the
rightness
of the
role.

He spread his fingers across her ass, enjoying the tension
beneath his hand, and said, “Tell me how you’ve done it before.”

Melanie lifted her head.

Sam pushed her back down and held her in place with a
handful of her silky hair. “You don’t have to look at me to answer. How do you
fuck, Melly? Do you sit on top and bounce on your boyfriend’s dick? Do you do
it doggy style? Missionary? Bareback?”

He pressed on her flesh and spread her cheeks, revealing the
pucker only half hidden behind her thong. “What about in the ass? Have you ever
accepted a man in your ass?”

She squirmed against him. Her hip nuzzled his cock so Sam didn’t
correct her by demanding she hold still. He did demand an answer though. “Which
one? Tell me. And call me Sir.”

“I don’t know what bareback is, Sir.”

“Without a condom.”

Understanding and fear shuddered through her at the same
time. So. She
did
know right from wrong—and he knew what her answer
would be. His anger at her self-endangering behavior flared anew.

Melanie locked up tight, every muscle tense.

He picked the point of his first strike, low where her thigh
met her left cheek. “Be honest. I’ll know if you’re not.”

“I’ve done all those,” she whispered.

“I can’t hear you. Tell me specifically what you’ve done.
And call me Sir. Don’t make me tell you to do it again.”

“I’ve been on top. I’ve done it doggy style and missionary
and…” Her voice wavered before she trailed off.

Sam gave her ten seconds. By the time his count reached
four, she spoke again.

“I’ve never had anal sex. And I’ve skipped the condom a
couple of times, Sir.”

Fury rippled through him. He struggled to bring it under
control, but he did manage. What was done, was done. After tonight, she
wouldn’t do it again. “No reason is a good reason for unprotected sex. Tonight,
I’m punishing you for what you did tonight and for not using condoms every
time. Do you disagree with my decision?”

“No Sir.”

He released her hair and placed his free hand between on the
middle of her back. Her heart raced behind her rib cage. Sam counted the beats
for a minute, grounding himself in the rhythm of her heart, and then he
delivered the first blow. The crack of flesh on flesh was loud in the room and
her yelp was even louder. Anybody listening on the other side of the wall would
hear everything. He slapped her ass again, targeting the same spot and
monitoring her heartbeat as close as he could with her surprised gasp filling
his ears and her rich, aroused scent distracting him.

Melanie tried to crawl away from his fifth strike. Sam
slapped her thigh and repositioned, dragging her backward until her hands no
longer touched the floor.

She clutched his leg and the edge of his seat and tried to
rear up with the seventh smack. “You’re hurting me!”

“It’s punishment. It’s not supposed to feel good…yet.” In
her new position, he had no trouble wrenching her panties down to her thighs
and baring her completely. Stripping her didn’t affect his access to her ass
but he wanted to take away her last defense. And later he wanted full access to
her pussy.

Careful with the intensity of her response but not so
careful with her golden skin, he landed another half dozen blows on her left
cheek before the angry red palm prints satisfied him. He didn’t miss a beat in
shifting his attention to her other cheek. Melanie shrieked and dug her nails
into his ankle.

Sam smiled slightly. “I take it back. I’m feeling pretty
good where I sit.”

“I want you to stop,” she gasped. “Sir!”

“Really?” He paused and plunged his hand between her legs.
Her pussy was so wet she soaked his fingers and her clit slid right out of his
pinching grasp. The fleeting contact was enough. Her back arched and she
moaned, most definitely not in pain. Sam teased her opening and gave her a
single shallow thrust before pulling back and slapping her ass again. “Tell me
the truth. Do you deserve more?”

She didn’t immediately answer. Sam raked his fingernails
across her previously reddened cheek, sending a new wave of pain to her abused
nerve endings. Melanie whimpered but she didn’t ask him to stop. Instead, she
lifted her ass a little higher.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He accepted her unspoken
permission to continue and hit her again, relishing the way his palm smarted
with each new blow. If he felt it, she certainly did.

Soon her shallow breaths deepened. She started squirming
again, but now she rocked her pussy against his thigh. Her little whimpers
signaled pleasure instead of pain. They also signaled the end of effectiveness.
He could continue to spank her, but pain was no longer a useful tool. Sam
slowed his pace and gradually backed off until his smacks were more like love
taps, each one ending with a stroke down the back of her leg. Melanie didn’t
move, even after several minutes passed without a slap, except to rub against
him.

Closing his eyes, he crossed a line and slid his fingers
back into her slit. Dripping wet, she didn’t put up a single bit of resistance.
Her heat wrapped around him as he delved inside, three fingers sinking in deep.
Her tight pussy clutched at him, contracting hard and drawing him deeper.

In the new silence of the room, her breathing took shape and
became words, a whispered chant of “Please, please, please”.

Sam gritted his teeth against an overwhelming desire to turn
her over, spread her out on one of the beds and replace his hand with his cock.
Determined to hold at least that line, he angled his wrist to catch her clit
and blocked her plea from his mind. Her physical response—he couldn’t wall
himself off from that, no matter how hard he tried. Her heat scalded him, cream
sliding into his palm as he caught her clit and twisted, triggering the first
climax.

“Please” became “oh God” and she arched hard. Sam caught her
before she tumbled off his lap. One arm locked around her ribs, he lifted her
against his chest and pushed in deeper, finger-fucking her through the second
orgasm. She hid her face in his throat. A sob racked her body right before the
third peak, which was short and fast. Sam buried his nose in her hair. Ignoring
her jerky shudders, he went after her G-spot with an aggressive determination
to make her beg. Beg him to stop before he lost his last shred of good sense.

Melanie’s voice rose in a high wail and she twisted in his
hold, her mouth searching for his. Desperately trying to hold the last of his
self-control, Sam turned his face away from her seeking kiss. If he tasted her,
he would be finished, unable to stop anywhere short of complete satisfaction
deep inside her.

She, damn her, persisted. Her teeth scored his bottom lip.
Shocked by the electric sensation of the small pain, Sam froze. Melanie took
advantage of the opening, her kiss hot and wet. She tasted like watermelon
liqueur and tequila. He wanted to drink her down.

Instead, he tore away from the kiss. “Don’t.”

“Sam—”

“
No
.” Needing her silent and distracted, he dumped
her on the floor and followed her down. Pinning her on her stomach, he dragged
his fingers from her pussy to her ass.