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Authors: January Rowe
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Allie, even when I correct you.”
“Oh,” she said.
“Even now. Do you want to safeout?” he asked.
“No. I deserve interrogation,” she said, looking forlorn, beaten.
His hold on her head eased. “Are you unhappy with our relationship?”
“No.”
“Talk to me, Mine. What are you thinking? What are you feeling?”
Allie’s hand drifted up to her collar. “I’m happy. I love it when you touch me.”
She lowered her chin, but this time he didn’t force her to look into the light. Her failure to remain chaste was his failure. He’d neglected her. That wouldn’t happen again.
“But?” he asked.
“But chastity is hard for me,” she said. “It’s painful.”
Still standing behind her, he rested his hands lightly on her shoulders. “It’s supposed to be painful. If you weren’t a sexual woman, long deprivation wouldn’t ultimately bring you outstanding release.”
“Why can’t it just be about love?”
He turned off the prototype illumination and carried her to the bed.
Cradling her warm body, he murmured into her fragrant skin. “I do love you, Allie. But we want something more powerful than love, don’t we?”
“Yes. I want to be yours, Sir,” she whispered.
Her words moved him. They lay snuggled together in the dark, sleep eluding them both.
“Sir, I can still see flashing in front of my eyes. Are you ever going to interrogate me again?”
“Yes. In a heartbeat. If I ever sense deception.”
She sighed, a happy sound. Nestling her closer, he listened to her breathing turn soft and regular. They had overcome their first crisis.
Chapter Eight
Grant didn’t hold grudges. Allie was certain of that. After she’d lied to him and he’d corrected her, he’d talked to her, he’d cuddled her. In his mind, the episode was done with, forgotten.
She had a much harder time letting go. She constantly reviewed that evening in her mind. Grant had demanded honesty from the beginning. She’d failed him. She’d have to get better at telling him the truth. She’d have to learn to communicate without interrogation. His questioning under the spot was humiliating and painful, but afterward, she was overwhelmed by a feeling of intimacy and gratitude.
How had he known she’d masturbated in the first place? Was the level of her throbbing sexuality so transparent? His insight into her libido was a good thing, she supposed. Sex was, after all, the basis of their relationship. But her reaction to his physical punishment was embarrassing. She’d never climaxed from pain before. Was it simply because his skin had touched hers? Would she have reacted the same way if he’d smacked her with a crop?
Whatever the reason for her spanking orgasm, it was clear he had enormous sexual power over her. His potency both delighted and frightened her.
The morning after her failure and later catharsis, Grant went back to California, promising to arrange a whole weekend getaway together. After a little texting back and forth, they found a date agreeable to both. She couldn’t wait.
Grant got to Allie’s apartment late Saturday morning, wearing a casual striped button-down shirt and jeans. He was dead gorgeous. So tall and well built. Dark hair curled to his collar, deep-set eyes alive with passion. Her heart thumped with anticipation and anxiety.
“You look wonderful.” His eyes drifted over her body-hugging wrap dress in dark teal. “That’s a pretty color on you.”
She smoothed her fingers over her hips to hide the trembling in her hands. “Thank you, Sir.”
“Hungry for breakfast?”
“Yes.” It was a lie. A small lie. Her stomach was jumpy. She wanted to get breakfast over with so she could show him what a perfect submissive she was.
They headed down the stairs together, Grant carrying her flowery overnight bag. He opened the passenger door of his pale blue sedan. She slipped in. He stashed her luggage in the trunk and settled in beside her.
“I thought you drove a white car.”
“I
“Oh,” she said.
“Even now. Do you want to safeout?” he asked.
“No. I deserve interrogation,” she said, looking forlorn, beaten.
His hold on her head eased. “Are you unhappy with our relationship?”
“No.”
“Talk to me, Mine. What are you thinking? What are you feeling?”
Allie’s hand drifted up to her collar. “I’m happy. I love it when you touch me.”
She lowered her chin, but this time he didn’t force her to look into the light. Her failure to remain chaste was his failure. He’d neglected her. That wouldn’t happen again.
“But?” he asked.
“But chastity is hard for me,” she said. “It’s painful.”
Still standing behind her, he rested his hands lightly on her shoulders. “It’s supposed to be painful. If you weren’t a sexual woman, long deprivation wouldn’t ultimately bring you outstanding release.”
“Why can’t it just be about love?”
He turned off the prototype illumination and carried her to the bed.
Cradling her warm body, he murmured into her fragrant skin. “I do love you, Allie. But we want something more powerful than love, don’t we?”
“Yes. I want to be yours, Sir,” she whispered.
Her words moved him. They lay snuggled together in the dark, sleep eluding them both.
“Sir, I can still see flashing in front of my eyes. Are you ever going to interrogate me again?”
“Yes. In a heartbeat. If I ever sense deception.”
She sighed, a happy sound. Nestling her closer, he listened to her breathing turn soft and regular. They had overcome their first crisis.
Chapter Eight
Grant didn’t hold grudges. Allie was certain of that. After she’d lied to him and he’d corrected her, he’d talked to her, he’d cuddled her. In his mind, the episode was done with, forgotten.
She had a much harder time letting go. She constantly reviewed that evening in her mind. Grant had demanded honesty from the beginning. She’d failed him. She’d have to get better at telling him the truth. She’d have to learn to communicate without interrogation. His questioning under the spot was humiliating and painful, but afterward, she was overwhelmed by a feeling of intimacy and gratitude.
How had he known she’d masturbated in the first place? Was the level of her throbbing sexuality so transparent? His insight into her libido was a good thing, she supposed. Sex was, after all, the basis of their relationship. But her reaction to his physical punishment was embarrassing. She’d never climaxed from pain before. Was it simply because his skin had touched hers? Would she have reacted the same way if he’d smacked her with a crop?
Whatever the reason for her spanking orgasm, it was clear he had enormous sexual power over her. His potency both delighted and frightened her.
The morning after her failure and later catharsis, Grant went back to California, promising to arrange a whole weekend getaway together. After a little texting back and forth, they found a date agreeable to both. She couldn’t wait.
Grant got to Allie’s apartment late Saturday morning, wearing a casual striped button-down shirt and jeans. He was dead gorgeous. So tall and well built. Dark hair curled to his collar, deep-set eyes alive with passion. Her heart thumped with anticipation and anxiety.
“You look wonderful.” His eyes drifted over her body-hugging wrap dress in dark teal. “That’s a pretty color on you.”
She smoothed her fingers over her hips to hide the trembling in her hands. “Thank you, Sir.”
“Hungry for breakfast?”
“Yes.” It was a lie. A small lie. Her stomach was jumpy. She wanted to get breakfast over with so she could show him what a perfect submissive she was.
They headed down the stairs together, Grant carrying her flowery overnight bag. He opened the passenger door of his pale blue sedan. She slipped in. He stashed her luggage in the trunk and settled in beside her.
“I thought you drove a white car.”
“I
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