Read Hidden Heart (Windy City #1) Online
Authors: Measha Stone
CHAPTER SEVEN
Taking One’s Lumps
Jessica stood next to Royce’s bed, looking at herself in the closet door mirror. The feelings bubbling inside her lacked a name. She couldn’t explain how she knew, but she knew he wouldn’t hurt her—not physically—not really. Every man was capable of breaking her heart—she knew that as fact—and Royce was every bit a man.
She’d never been spanked before, not even as a child. He had been upfront with her from the beginning. He would use it as a punishment if needed. He’d given her an out, a way not to be in the situation she found herself. Why hadn’t she just told him? What was to be gained with pushing him? Forcing him to prove he meant what he said?
The past loves of her life had made many promises, and very few of them had delivered. This wasn’t a promise of a night of passion. This was a promise of pain. Of punishment.
She stared at herself in the mirror and began to undress.
The option of saying no to this step and leaving didn’t stay in her mind long. They had agreed to the terms of their relationship and punishments came with the territory.
He’d kept to their agreement; he did not try to maintain control when they were apart. She would stick to her part of the agreement. If nothing else, to chalk it up to an experience once had that could be a funny story to tell.
She knew Royce entered the room from the heavy shuffling of his feet. She still found herself in awe of his size. He hadn’t dressed yet for the day, his pajama bottoms added a lightness to the room. A drawer scraped open. Metal jingled. She buried her face into the comforter.
A heavy sigh—one full of disappointment—filled the room, and her heart sank in her chest. The bed gave way to his weight as he sat beside her. She didn’t chance looking at him; she didn’t want to lose her nerve.
“I can’t take care of you if you won’t be honest about your feelings.” He placed a warm palm on the curve of her bare backside. “Part of playing is talking afterward to be sure you and I are okay and no damage physically or emotionally occurred. My intent may be to cause you temporary pain with a clothespin or a spanking, but it is never to injury you. When you won’t talk to me, how can I assess the situation? How can your needs be attended to?” He rubbed her skin.
Not sure if she should speak, she decided against it. She peeked over her shoulder at him. He was watching his hand linger over her ass. His words made sense, but his talk about her needs threw her off guard.
The first swat of his hand surprised her. She jumped from the impact and the sting. His bare hand on her skin. He had said it would be with his belt; she figured he’d changed his mind. She wasn’t going to argue.
“Warm up first. Then the belt.” He slapped her again as if knowing her thoughts.
She grunted.
He continued to bring his hand down heavily on her bottom, his fingers lingering a moment before he delivered the next smack. She tried to concentrate on his words, instead of the physical presence of his hand.
Her lungs burned from the heat of the room, and her ass warmed at a steady pace with each lasting touch of his hand. She gripped the comforter as a hard slap landed on the down curve of her ass, a tender spot.
He paused the spanking to stand and move his position. She clenched her eyes shut and tried to will her cunt to ignore the sensations he was causing. Her ass was on fire, but she could feel the wetness between her legs in response. Her mind did not share the arousal her body did, but she had lost control of the physical elements of the situation.
He unrolled the belt. “Are you ready?” His voice was tender.
“Yes.” She nodded, keeping her eyes focused on the bedding. Her fists crumpled the comforter with their grip. Every muscle tensed in anticipation of the first strike.
She didn’t have long to wait. The intensity of the burn shocked her; an electric shiver ran up from her ass through her spine. She stood upright, unaware of her actions.
“Back over.” He sounded calm, all business.
She complied, swallowing hard and taking deep breaths. She felt the surge of fire from the second lash before she heard the swish through the air. With the third, a cry escaped her before she could contain it. She wanted to jump out of her skin.
Her shoulders tensed, and her fingers ached from the tight grip they had on the bedding. She gulped at the air and tried to ready herself for the next lash. It came softer, higher on her ass. She rested her forehead on the bed and readjusted her feet on the floor. Her legs began to shake from holding herself in the position with such intensity.
“The last is always the worst,” he informed her, running his fingertips over her ass.
She imagined horrifically what he must be seeing. Convinced her cheeks glowed a dark red, her mortification continued. She felt as though angry welts were popping up; she was sure she looked a mess.
“Let me know when you are ready.” He removed his fingers from her.
She took another deep breath. To ask for the last one, it was too much.
“I can wait.” His words ran over her skin.
Her mind raced. She braced herself and willed her voice into action. “Okay. I’m ready.”
The belt crashed across both cheeks at the curve—too close to her thighs to count as a slap on the ass. She yelped and shook with the tension of her body and slowly allowed herself to relax.
She felt the tears on her cheek and realized the whimpering she heard came from her. A release valve had been triggered with the last lick of the belt. The tears wouldn’t be fought against, her emotions bubbled over until they couldn’t be held back any longer. Resting her face on the bed, she pulled up her legs and curled into a ball.
He sat beside her and rested his hand on her back. He said nothing, but he remained.
After a few moments of quietly shedding tears, she unraveled herself and sat up. Concerned eyes met hers and she leaned into him, resting her face in the crook of his neck. Her safe place. “I’m sorry.” She sniffled.
He wrapped his arms around her, tucking her beneath his chin. “Me too. I really wanted to ravage you this morning.” His words only twisted her stomach further.
She’d ruined what could have been a wonderfully sexy morning.
“Another time.” He kissed the top of her head and rubbed his chin against her.
“Do you still want me to answer your question?” Her voice was soft.
“Yes. Would you like to get dressed first?” He rubbed her bare shoulder.
“No, that’s okay.” The vulnerability of being naked eased the way to being vulnerable in other ways as well. As long as she didn’t have to look at him at the same time.
He kissed her again and tightened his hold on her. “Were you ashamed of what we did? Or that you enjoyed it?” His question was given in a manner that made her feel as though she should be sitting in a witness box and swearing an oath of honesty before answering.
“I don’t understand why I enjoyed it. I guess that’s a little scary. Not understanding your own feelings. I mean, the clamps hurt but in a good way. That makes no sense. The crop, same thing. It’s all messed up. Maybe I’m messed up.” She shrugged.
He nudged her away with his shoulder and used his finger to pull her chin up. His eyes deepened with sincerity. “You are not messed up.” His voice was firm. “I want you to do me a favor. I want you to open yourself to the possibility that you can find happiness in a relationship with another person.”
“You are asking a lot.” She tried to pull away, but he held her firmly with his fingers.
“I know.” He kissed her nose. “Just allow yourself to feel whatever you feel without doubt and scrutiny.”
“You are a terrifying man.” She screwed up her lips into a half smile.
“Really?” He mocked shock.
“Yes.” She pushed her lips out. He gave in to her desire and took her lips under his.
“No more hiding from me. I won’t give you a second chance any more. The first time you hide, you’ll be punished.” He released her. “I’ll let you get dressed. I’d like to walk you home. I have a project for you today, and it will take you most of the day to complete it.” He flashed a mysterious smile at her and pinched her bottom to get her moving.
She giggled—a sound she’d not heard herself make in a long time—and scooted from the bed. “I thought we agreed you wouldn’t invade my private realm.” She shot him a worried glance as she pulled her pants over her hips.
“I’m going to push that boundary a little.” He found a clean shirt and pulled it over his head. “Don’t worry.” He stepped to her and gathered her in his arms, kissing her wrinkled brow. “I know you’ve had bad experiences with trust in your past, but you’re going to start learning to trust me.” He kissed her nose.
She hadn’t told him about any of her previous boyfriends, but she had told him she didn’t trust men.
She took a deep breath. “Okay.”
He kissed her mouth. “Good girl.” He smiled against her lips and released her. “Now, let’s get you home.”
A warm shiver ran through her with the words “good girl”. She couldn’t stop the grin that popped onto her face at them.
She decided to put it aside for later evaluation and followed him from the room.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Another Gift
The walk home from Jessica’s apartment gave Royce time to contemplate the new relationship. New relationships didn’t scare him, he’d had plenty over the past several years. They were all fun at first, then sagged a bit in the middle, before dying a slow pitiful death at the end. Jessica threatened to be different.
It wasn’t the thrill of training her to be his submissive, or the excitement of new love that kept him wanting her. It was the way a warmth would spread through his veins at the sight of her, the smell of her, the sound of her voice. Even her “hello” on the telephone made his heart race. These feelings put him in a new territory.
She was closed up tightly, but slowly was beginning to unravel in his arms. He loved the smiles she let slip out, the second of thought she took before speaking. Impulsiveness didn’t rule her, she ruled it. She could be spontaneous if he pushed her, but she wouldn’t instigate. She was in control of every aspect of her life, but she softened with him. He could feel the tension leave her. Her eyelids would instinctively drop and a blush would creep onto her cheeks.
Her submission was natural, even though she was only beginning to understand it. He found himself already attached to her; there would be no sag in this relationship. He forbade it. Potential for a lifetime of adventures lurked beneath their casual teasing and erotic touches.
Punishments happened in his relationships. They were a fact. Submissives would eventually earn one because they were human. He knew she wasn’t different in that way, a spanking would happen. Being so new to his lifestyle and his rules, he worried she would not take the punishment well. Maybe a lot of arguing and spitefulness. Instead, she’d surprised him with her willingness to experience the punishment, how open she’d been to it. His disappointment in her for having earned the punishment had morphed into pride.
A thick wall encased her heart. He could feel it in the way she tensed after a smile, or looked away from him when they had locked eyes for too long. She’d been hurt more than once, but he would be patient and the walls would come down. He found himself wanting to be her knight on a white horse, carrying a single tail and handcuffs.
The doorman stopped him in the lobby of Royce’s building. He wrung his white gloved hands together as he looked at Royce. “I’m sorry, sir. She demanded to be let up. Said that you told her to meet her in your apartment. I recognized her name from the packages. I didn’t feel right about it, but she was becoming unruly in the lobby.”
“It’s all right. You let her in the apartment?” Royce looked at his watch; he didn’t need to ask who Robert confessed to letting into his apartment.
“Yes, sir. She had several suitcases with her.” Robert’s brow wrinkled. A thin layer of sweat covered his forehead.
“You did the right thing.” Royce soothed the worried doorman. “She can be very persistent.” He watched the elevator doors open, his voice tight. “I will deal with her.”
Royce stepped into the elevator and forced a smile on his face as the doors closed. Robert sighed with relief. No doubt Melody had given the man a hard time.
Music blared from his apartment. Her favorite punk band thumped against the walls as soon as the doors opened. He focused himself and entered his apartment.
She was naked. She danced in his living room completely nude. He didn’t address her. He found the remote to the stereo on an end table and switched off the music.
Startled, she turned to him and instantly dropped to her knees, placing her forehead to the ground, reaching her hands over her head, and placing her right palm on the back of her left hand. A position from another life.
“Get up.” He tossed his jacket on the loveseat.
She moved from her position on the floor to kneeling with her hands folded behind her back.
“No, get up on your feet. Where are your clothes?” He walked around the room.
“It’s good to see you again, Sir. I put my clothing in the bedroom.” Her silky voice answered him.
He left the room and reappeared with a pile of clothes in his hands. He dumped the pile in her lap. “I am not your sir anymore, Melody,” he reminded her with a forced civility. “Please get dressed.” He turned and walked way before she could react.
He poured himself a glass of water and waited in the kitchen. She joined him after dressing in her jean skirt and tank top. The weather was too cold for such little clothing. He didn’t remark on it.
“You are not pleased with me,” she stated, leaning against the fridge.
“We broke up. Our relationship ended. I’ve asked you to stop sending gifts, but they keep coming, and now you are here. What are you doing here?” He placed his glass in the sink.
“I miss you. I know I was wrong to ask for more than what you offered. I know that you may never want more than what we had; I won’t ask for your love again.” Her words hit him.
His words sounded cold and bitter repeated to him. When they’d severed their ties, he had explained he didn’t want a loving relationship. He’d caused the sag because he didn’t want more than what was on the surface.
That wasn’t the case anymore. He wanted the depths of Jessica. He wanted to be with her through bad morning breath to long weekends of reading newspapers and drinking bad wine. He loved her.
“Did you hear me?” Melody’s voice hardened when he didn’t respond.
“Yes.” He shook his head. “You can’t stay here. I’m sorry you’re having trouble letting go, but we’re finished. I released you.” He shoved away from the sink.
Her eyes widened, and she stopped him from walking away by wrapping her arms around his waist.
He could smell her perfume, his favorite.
She looked up at him with soft eyes. “I am sorry I upset you. I can be a good girl.”
He watched her lips as she spoke.
“I can be your good girl,” she whispered and reached up on her toes, bringing her lips to his.