Mr. Smith's Whip (2 page)

Once more, she questioned her sanity. What the hell was she doing? She should be out at her desk, watching over the library’s reference archives. She certainly shouldn’t be on the floor in front of one of the patrons, taking his commands like a puppet.

“You’re thinking too much,” he chided. “Let me guess. What am I doing? Why am I doing this? Why am I listening to him?” He paused. “Am I right?”

“Pretty much,” she mumbled.

“You’re discovering what you’ve always wanted,” he answered, his deep voice rumbling over her. “You sense I can show you what you’ve always wanted to know. You feel it in your pussy—which I bet is creamy with desire. You want this. You know I’m the right one for it.

We’ve been heading here for months.”

“No…”

“I won’t tolerate lying.”

She sighed, and her head tipped forward.

“Have you read about the scene?” he asked. “Perhaps watched videos?”

“Just read.”

“Then answer me, from your reading knowledge. Is this the position I want?” She knew it wasn’t. He wanted her sitting on her heels, her knees apart. And there was no way like this. Forgetting the oddity of the situation, forgetting where they were, forgetting everything but pleasing him and experiencing what she’d fantasized about, she focused on this moment and his desires. What he wanted was triggering illicit pleasure inside her. Tension ran thickly between them and every moment ratcheted up her arousal and the stark need pummeling through her.

Fisting her hands in her skirt, she shifted until her knees were free.

“More,” he directed, even as she continued to move.

Soon her skirt was at her thighs. She sat back on her heels. Her legs parted, further hiking up her skirt and exposing far more than she’d ever imagined she’d show Mr. Smith.

Remembering the last BDSM book she’d read—easy since it had been last night and had probably triggered her fantasy—she placed her arms behind her and crossed her wrists at the small of her back. She kept her head bowed. She bit her lip as she focused on her thighs and her skirt that was bunched so high up that the lace tops of her stockings showed, and he could likely see her red silk panties.

“So…someone has a secret beneath her stuffy librarian clothes,” he commented. His toe of his black leather shoe traced the line of her stockings. “These are nice. I look forward to seeing them without the skirt and blouse hiding so much of you.”

“Thank you,” she murmured.

“Thank you, Mr. Smith,” he countered. “When we are in a scene, you will call me Mr.

Smith or Sir. Understood?”

“Yes, Mr. Smith.” She called him that all the time, outside this room. Never again would it have the same meaning. Just working with him to find needed research would get her wet.

Who was she kidding? It already did.

She took a shuddery breath, laced with excitement. This was really happening. She was with a man who would teach her about the D/s lifestyle. A man she liked and trusted.

“And when you are in this room and the door is closed, we are in a scene. Understood?”

“Yes, Mr. Smith.” Anything you want, Mr. Smith. Bend me over a table and fuck me, Mr. Smith. Let me show you how compliant I can be, Mr. Smith.

“When I call you into this room, you will close the door and immediately assume this position. No excuses.”

“Yes, Mr. Smith.”

“That is…” He reached down and lifted her chin so she was looking at him. Their eyes connected, and she saw the intensity that seared her soul whenever she encountered it. No man—

no person—she’d ever met had such power in his gaze. “That is, if you want to continue and explore this.”

She blinked at him. Hadn’t she already made that decision? She was on her knees before him and following his orders.

“Moment of truth, Livvy,” he said, using the pet name she’d imagined he’d call her but that no one—
no one
—in her life ever had. “Say you don’t want this, and we forget everything.

This is your one chance. I will not offer you this again.” Everything inside Olivia screamed for her to say no. She needed to get up and walk out of here and never look back. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t let Colin command her. This was an inappropriate interaction between librarian and patron.

Her fingernails bit into the sides of her hands as she clenched them together. This could cost her the job she’d held for four years.

But you want it, a small voice whispered inside her. Can you live with the regret? The curiosity?

She couldn’t.

“Yes, I want this, Mr. Smith,” she replied. She nodded. “I want this.” Suddenly, a world of unknown experiences yawned before her. What would be next?

“Very good.”

She bowed her head once more, happy with the approval in his voice. She’d pleased him.

Would he reward her somehow? Give her another task? She eyed his fly through her lashes. She knew what she’d like to do. Now that they’d crossed this barrier of yes or no, now that she’d dived in and accepted her exploration into Colin’s lifestyle, taking his cock didn’t seem beyond the realm of acceptable behavior. They could do anything—okay, they probably shouldn’t do it here, but she didn’t feel restrained. Her shock had dissipated, leaving her with anticipation of his next move. And it would be his. He was in control.

To her surprise, he walked away. She heard his chair scrape backward on the tile then he sat and pushed close to the table but said nothing. She remained still. What should she do? Did he mean for her to leave? To wait?

Her pussy spasmed as she thought of him watching her. Just the act of kneeling here for him like his own personal statue aroused her. Even the bite of the hard tile beneath her calves added to her excitement level.

The quiet stretched on. She struggled to breathe calmly as she anticipated what would happen. The tick of the clock was loud in the silence.

“You may go,” he finally said.

Go?

She barely restrained the surprised “what” that came to her lips. She pressed her mouth shut to keep in her response. Tension ran through her body as it protested his dismissal. This was it? Had she done something wrong? Had he been playing with her? Seeing how far she’d go?

With little grace and keeping her face from him, she struggled to her feet and started to straighten her skirt.

“Take off your panties, and give them to me,” he instructed suddenly.

She glanced at him, but his attention was on his papers. He scanned them and jotted in a notebook as if he’d never said a thing. Her eyes narrowed. Sensibility told her to ignore the order, but something else made her consider obeying him. She let out a silent sigh. She’d give him whatever the hell he wanted. In for a penny and all that…

At least for now.

Reaching beneath her skirt, she grasped the red silk scrap then shimmied them down her thighs.

“Leave on your shoes,” he added quietly. Another glance showed his attention no more on her than it had been before.

She stumbled a little but managed to get off the garment and step free without tripping. It certainly wasn’t her most graceful moment, and if there’d been a window in the room, she would have showed her bare ass to the world. But not to Colin. He couldn’t be bothered to look. For several brief moments, she considered walking out without giving him what he wanted.

Anger pushed through her. He was sending her away. He was doing nothing. He’d made her kneel there, show herself, and now she could go? Fine. Jerk. She’d give him what he wanted and give him a cheap thrill and ignore him until…until the end of time.

Fisting the silk in her hand, she straightened her skirt. The gray wool taunted her bare ass, reminding her she was now sans underwear. Despite her ire, a swell of cream descended to her folds and reminded her she could enjoy sensual delights without Mr. Smith and his commands.

She marched to the table where he pored over a tome on ancient Rome and held out her hand to give him “the prize”. He didn’t look up or react. She was tempted to whip them at his head. Scowling, she set them on the table then stalked away. She half expected him to say something as she unlocked then turned the doorknob, but he didn’t.

Fine.

Just
fine
.

It took everything in her not to slam the door with all her strength and announce to the entire library exactly how pissed off she was at Mr. Smith.

Chapter Two

What the hell? Really. What the hell?

Two hours later, Olivia was still steaming. Angrily, she headed for her car, more aware than ever of the chilled February air as it snuck up her skirt to lick at her damp folds. Bundling her coat tighter around herself, she dodged her coworker Todd, who no doubt wanted to discuss his aspirations for promotion, and hurried across the parking lot.

She paused a foot from the vehicle. A square, cream-colored envelope had been pushed beneath the driver’s side wiper. She looked around, thinking a marketer had papered the cars in the parking lot, but hers was the only one with something on the windshield. She plucked it off in irritation then tossed it on the passenger seat after opening the driver’s door.

The car was freezing inside, but thankfully she didn’t have to scrape. After starting the ignition, she picked up the envelope while the car warmed up. It wasn’t the run-of-the-mill, office-supply standard, but almost as thick as parchment. It was sealed beneath only the point of the flap. Mildly curious, she slid her gloved finger inside and disengaged the glue.

A matching piece of high-quality paper was folded inside. Okay, this wasn’t a piece of junk advertisement. Tentative excitement simmered through her.

7:00. CS

Her anger receded as she stared at the simple message. He’d included a phone number at the bottom of the small sheet, likely to decline though it didn’t say. But decline what?

She turned the note over in her hand. There was nothing else.

As suddenly as a rain spate on a sunny spring day, she knew the answer. Colin Smith was an incredibly careful man, and he’d said as much earlier. This was a test, just as earlier had been a test—only, she hadn’t realized that until now. Apparently, she’d passed. She’d pass this, too.

A thousand scenarios went through her head on the drive home, but she knew none of them likely came close to what Colin had planned. That thought was confirmed as she pulled into her driveway and spied a package on her front porch.

He knew where she lived. It didn’t bother her. This was a fairly small city and she was the only O. McKinnion in the book. Besides, she was contemplating a sexual encounter with him. He was picking her up here. How else would he if he didn’t know her address?

More than anything, it intrigued her that he’d left her a package. He’d left the library earlier than usual today. Despite her ire, part of her stubborn awareness had remained squarely on the man who’d had her on her knees in his research room. The time between departure and now, though, didn’t seem enough for him to get her something, come here then go.

Anticipation swelled through her. Anxiously, she pulled the car into the garage then hurried through the house to the front door. No one was around when she opened it and snatched the parcel inside. It was the size of a large clothing box and made of heavy, cream-colored cardboard. A thick black ribbon ran the length of the top and was threaded with silver. One end of the ribbon had a silver handcuffs logo and a small script name:
The Dungeon
.

Her excitement ran double time. He hadn’t been here. He’d had this delivered, his intention absolutely clear. Dominance. Control.

Setting the box on the table inside the door, she pulled off the lid. It dropped to the floor as she examined the contents inside. On top of a sheaf of black and silver tissue paper was another envelope. Opening it, she found a typed message.

Wear this. ALL of this. The shoes from earlier, too. No panties. No bra. CS

Placing the note to the side, she pulled back the paper and looked inside. Her first impression was silk. Red silk trimmed with black. Pulling it out, she held it up and found it was an Asian-style shift. The hem would hang to mid-calf but it had a long slit that would reach high on her thigh. A faux closure, trimmed with a band of black silk, ran to the high-necked collar.

The capped sleeves were also tipped in black.

Beneath the dress were black silk stockings, a garter belt and a couple items she didn’t recognize. Setting aside the clothing, she guessed this must be what Colin meant by “all of it”.

Something for her nipples; something for her pussy. His selections were still in their packaging so it was easy to decipher what they were.

Olivia gathered everything and headed for her bedroom. It was already six-fifteen which gave her a scant forty-five minutes to get ready and figure out these things. Luckily, she’d had a recent waxing so she didn’t need to worry about anything but freshening up. She hoped Colin didn’t prefer things
au natural.
That was the scary part about a new relationship—the unknown likes and dislikes… She’d learn soon enough, though.

After her quick shower, she was back at her bedside where she’d earlier dropped her

“gifts”. The tip of her tongue pressed to her upper lip as she first considered the nipple toy—a suction device to draw out her nipple then slip a band around the tip to keep it erect. She wasn’t sure how she’d like that, but with Colin’s impending arrival, she didn’t have time to waste.

Her teeth sank into her bottom lip, and she pressed the tool to her breast. Her breath hissed as a zing of pleasure tingled through her. A choked gasp followed as the band snapped into place around the nipple with a bite of pain—and she nearly orgasmed as her womb contracted in approval. In moments, she had the second band in place. Her eyes closed as she enjoyed the sensation and imagined Colin’s eyes on her while she prepared herself. If only she could savor this feeling. No time. Instead, she turned to the next device.

He’d chosen weighted balls that she’d push deep inside. They’d vibrate with each movement and drive her to distraction. Her hands trembled slightly as she worked first one then the other into her creamy folds. More than anything, it focused her attention on her pussy and constantly reminded her of the toy’s presence as she slipped on the decadent silk stockings and garter belt.