Bound, Spanked and Loved: Fourteen Kinky Valentine's Day Stories (64 page)

“You talked to her! You t-told her how I felt.”

“Who?” he asked, but he knew. Damnit! What had that bitch told Ariel? He rued the day their paths had crossed, that he’d allowed her into his life. Unfortunately, Sienna had remained within their social circle even after they had stopped seeing each other. His parents’ welcoming open-door policy had backfired. Now he had to repair the damage.

Ariel hadn’t answered his question. He called her name again. She refused to answer.

Words weren’t going to do the trick. Like he had at the cabin, he would have to show her to convince her. He glanced at the parking lot. He hadn’t removed his duffel from his car.

The door to the unit across the way opened. “Can I help you with something?” a man asked.

As much as he wished to avoid attention, Hunter was pleased Ariel lived in a building where the neighbors would watch out for her. “I’m Hunter, Ariel’s stepbrother. Our mother was concerned about her and sent me to check. I’m afraid she might be ill.”

“The apartment manager might be able to help.”

“Thank you.”

The apartment manager was quite accommodating. It turned out Ariel had put his name and their parents’ on the lease as emergency contacts. After he presented his identification, she gave him a key. Hunter snagged the duffel from his car and charged back to Ariel’s. He didn’t bother to knock but let himself in.

As he’d expected, she wasn’t in her tiny living room. He entered the bedroom. Weeping emanated from an Ariel-sized lump beneath the bed quilt. His chest constricted. When she hurt, he hurt. But he would fix this. He set his duffel down. “Ariel.”

“G-go a-a-way.”

“Remember what I said at the cabin? No more running,” he said in his Dom voice. “I asked you to trust me. Remove the covers, sit up, and talk to me.”

“You don’t d-deserve my trust. You betrayed it!”

Hunter flinched. He hadn’t betrayed her, but her accusation cut deep because he knew she believed it. A frisson of fear sawed through him. What if he
couldn’t
fix this? Couples pledged their devotion to one another all the time, yet half of all marriages ended in divorce. He and Ariel had only had a weekend to forge a relationship. “What am I supposed to have done?” he asked strongly, hiding his uncertainty.

“You laughed about me with Sienna.”

He knew he’d recognized Sienna’s hand in this. “Never. Whatever she said wasn’t true.”

“Then how did she know about the valentines we exchanged when we were kids?”

“She read your diary. She got drunk at the party, spent the night in your old room, and read your journals.”

Ariel went silent, motionless. Then her head popped out of the covers. Her teary, red eyes met his gaze.

“I would never, ever laugh about you. I never discussed the way you felt about me with anyone, and I wouldn’t give Sienna the time of day. She’s history.” He’d press his mom to ensure Sienna never set foot in the Peyton house again. He had a feeling he wouldn’t have to apply too much pressure.

“I guess I owe you an apology. I’m sorry, Hunter.”

“Sir,” he corrected.

“Sir.”

“Come here, Ariel.”

She crawled out of bed. Her silk robe gaped, and she pulled the edges together and started to tie the belt.

“Leave it,” he ordered. The robe would come off soon anyway. He wanted no barrier between them. No clothing, no secrets, no misunderstandings. But, for now, he enjoyed the peek-a-boo view. Her breasts were reddened by whisker burn, her nipples chafed. He’d fucked her so many times, his dick was sore, but it didn’t prevent the start of a hard-on now.

She stood before him, contrition and remorse written on her face. “I’m so sorry, sir.” She bowed her head.

He nudged her chin to peer into her eyes. “I don’t hold you responsible for falling for Sienna’s trickery. She seemed to have evidence to support her lies, and I don’t expect one weekend can erase years of uncertainty all at once. I love you, Ariel. Believe that. However, the next time you lock me out and refuse to speak to me, I will spank your ass until you can’t sit for a week. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir.” Her eyes glowed. One day she’d find out punishment differed quite a bit from the fun and games she’d experienced over the weekend.

“Who do you belong to?”

“You, sir.”

He shoved her robe off her shoulders. He cupped one of her tits and thrummed the nipple before pinching it, not hard, but enough to make a point. Figuratively and literally. She sucked in her breath, but he read helpless desire and not discomfort on her face. Well, maybe a little discomfort. A little was good. A little discomfort would reinforce his claim.

“Bend over the bed. Spread your legs. Show me your pussy.”

Her folds, swollen from the weekend’s pleasures, glistened with new moisture. He’d spanked her more than once over that time, and her cheeks were red still, although the stripe from the belt whipping had faded. With his palm, he laid a dozen rapid, hard smacks to her derriere. She cried out and danced on tiptoe, but her pussy grew wetter.

He didn’t disrobe but unzipped his pants, rolled on a condom, and guided his cock to her wet center. Mindful of the previous workouts, he eased into her. He fucked her with slow thrusts. Her cunt gripped him as tight as ever, making his teeth ache. It was her, and only her. It would shatter him to lose her now.

With a rough hand, he manipulated her clit, driving her to the brink. And himself. “Give it to me, Ariel,” he ordered.

“Oh, sir!” she cried out, climaxing.

“Ariel,” he gritted out as his cock and balls contracted and he spilled himself.

He rested a hand on her lower back. “Stay here.” He dispensed with the condom, and, from his duffel, withdrew a stainless-steel butt-plug, the smallest one because she would be sitting on it all evening.

She peered over her shoulder, gaze riveted on the object as he lubed it. “Oh, sir, please...do I have to?” She didn’t like wearing a plug, hadn’t gotten used to it yet, which was why he’d chosen it now. And also because he needed to get his head on straight, because he wasn’t as calm as he wanted to her to think. “You need to remember what we promised. I take care of you, and you trust and obey me.”

With his finger, he lubed her passage and then, like a good girl, she accepted the plug.

He had her sit on the bed while he washed his hands and stalled for time. In Dom mode, he was confident. As the supplicant, not so much. He couldn’t imagine she would say no, but what if she did? With nothing more to do, he reentered the bedroom. “I have something else for you.”

She nibbled her lower lip. “What is it?”

He grabbed his jacket and withdrew the velvet box.

Her eyes rounded.

He lowered to one knee and opened the box. “Will you marry me?”

Ariel burst into tears and flung herself into his arms, knocking the box from his hand. “Yes! Oh, Hunter, sir, yes!”

Epilogue

Ariel shifted on the sofa cushion, trying to find a comfortable position with a hard foreign object in her ass. Beside her, Hunter wore the faintest smirk.
Damn, you...sir
.

In reality, she wouldn’t have it any other way. To be loved, taken, claimed. She peeked at the glittering diamond in the beautiful setting. Engaged. They only had to pass one tiny little hurdle.

Hunter glanced at her, and then they focused on the parents sitting opposite them in the formal living room. Hunter cleared his throat. “Ariel and I wanted to speak to you both.” He clasped her hand. “I could lead up with a long preamble of hemming and hawing, but the best way is to say it. Ariel and I love each other, and we’re getting married.”

“I wondered when you’d come to your senses,” her stepmom said.

“We’re not related by blood—wait a minute. What did you say?” Hunter did a double take, glancing between his mother and Ariel.

Ariel blinked, just as surprised as he.
They were fine with it
? She’d prepared herself for shock, resistance.

Trudy beamed. “Oh, for goodness sake. Ariel has been crazy about you from the moment you two met, and you’ve been in love with her for almost as long.” She looked at her husband then back at them. “You were meant for each other from the start. If Jake and I hadn’t gotten married and brought you together, I think fate would have introduced you to one another.” Trudy shifted her gaze to the floor and clasped her hands. “But, in the interest of full disclosure, I, uh, should make a little confession.”

“About what?” Ariel asked.

“You weren’t coming home because you were avoiding Hunter. I knew you still loved him, and he loved you. So when you said you would attend the Valentine’s Party, I invited Sienna. I figured she would flirt with Hunter, and that it would make you jealous.”

“Mom!” Ariel and Hunter gasped.

“Trudy!” her dad chided. “You and I will have a little talk later.” Her dad’s stern glint reminded her of Hunter’s gleam when he expressed his Dominant side.

“I’m sorry. It was wrong of me,” her mom said.

Her dad shook his head. “Well, congratulations, Son!” He jumped off the couch to shake Hunter’s hand and hug him. He embraced and kissed Ariel. “I’m so happy for you, sweetheart.”

Her stepmom kissed them both. Then Hunter wrapped his arms around Ariel and pulled her against his body, hugging her the way a man hugs a woman and not his little stepsister.

Trudy nudged her husband. “Don’t they look perfect together?”

Ariel sighed. Perfect. The best Valentine’s Day ever.

About Cara Bristol

Multi-published, Cara Bristol is the author of more than twenty-four erotic romance titles. She writes spanking romance, science fiction, contemporary, and paranormal erotic romance. No matter what the subgenre, one thing remains constant: her emphasis on character-driven seriously hot erotic stories with sizzling chemistry between the hero and heroine. Cara has lived many places in the United States, but currently lives in Missouri with her husband. She has two grown step kids. When she’s not writing, she enjoys reading and traveling.

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Acknowledgements

T
his anthology would not have happened without Sue Lyndon who conceived the idea, coordinated it, and invited us all to participate. Thank you, Sue! As always, I’d like to thank my editor Kate Richards and copy editor Nanette Sipe for their eagle eyes. For fans of the Rod and Cane Society spanking romance series—I wrote this one special for you!

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C
hloe had never felt so angry in her entire life. She had never felt so terrified, either, but the anger was pressing up to the foreground as it was wont to do with her. This time, her anger was more justified than most. The country she had been paying all those taxes to her entire life, as well as a president that she had voted for, had decided to lock her up and throw away the key.

Maybe it wouldn’t have made her feel quite this enraged if she had been a conspiracy theorist who had been sticking her nose where it didn’t belong. That way, when something like this happened to her—like seeing a few aliens—she would have been at least emotionally prepared for it. Sort of like storm chasers probably understood what they were getting themselves into.

But Chloe was a pastry chef. She didn’t worry much beyond the yeast in her refrigerator dying. She had thought that, even though she was pretty grumpy even on the best of days, some guy would ignore that about her in lieu of consistent good eating, and she’d get to settle down and start a family one day. It was what her parents had told her they wanted for her before they’d died. But now that future was dying off fast.

When the sliding door of the white padded room opened, an official walked in, looking just as uncomfortable as he had the first time he’d spoken to her and apologized for the necessity of her detainment. He was the sort of person who was so uneasy in his skin that he constantly moved like he had an itch that he couldn’t scratch. She hated that sort of person, but she couldn’t strangle him like she wanted to—there was a guard outside who was easily big enough to throttle her with one hand. “There’s been a hiccup, it seems,” the official wheezed through his nose, “with your deportment off-base.”

“A hiccup?” she hissed, mostly displeased with his lack of vocabulary. This man acted like her banker, not someone working at a top-secret base that made her positive that the Men in Black were actually a thing.

“Upon hearing your grievances, the Lothyrians would like to intercede,” he explained, and judging from his expression, she knew she shouldn’t regard this as something she should be pleased about.

She narrowed her eyes at him, her mind stuck on the word, ‘Lothyrians.’ “You mean, the aliens?”

“Extraterrestrial authorities, yes,” he corrected stuffily. He adjusted his suit as if it was fitting him funny, and continued, “They understand that we can’t release you, but they feel somewhat responsible that you were detained. They would like you to accompany them on their journey permanently.” He held up his hands as soon as her bottom lip dropped to sputter out an argument. “When you stop and think about it, Miss Jergens, you might come to see this from a more optimistic perspective than I’m sure you are. An invitation like this isn’t one that comes along every day! You’d be our first representative to the Lothyrians’ planet when you eventually arrived there!”

She didn’t know what to say to this, so she didn’t say anything at all as her brain tried not to melt from overload. Eventually, she was able to see red again. “Representative? You want me to go across the galaxy as a
representative
? The only thing I want to
represent
is how far I’m going to put my fist up your ass!” She stood up quickly, about to march over there and wring his neck.

He stepped back and the bulky guard who’d been stationed outside her door stepped between them. Despite one of his arms being the size of her whole body, the guard brandished his gun anyway. “What is it you tell people you do for a living?” she demanded of the guard as she placed her hands on her hips. “Because I have a feeling saying that you protect annoying, bureaucratic weasels so they can destroy women doesn’t get you a whole lot of dates.”