Nobody's Angel (22 page)

“You have asked me to give you five swats with my hand on your bare ass. What are you thinking about that now?”

She cast her gaze away.

“Look at me, pet.”

With reluctance, she met his gaze again and nibbled on her lip, causing his cock to bob against her ass. Her eyes opened wider, as if surprised by his sexual response.

“I know sharing your feelings and thoughts is hard,
cara
, but you must not keep anything from your Dom.”

A flash of defiance crossed he expression. “You’re not my Dom.”

Shit, were they back to square one then?

“Careful, pet, or you’ll add the appropriate number of additional swats to your punishment.” He could smell the fear in her as her body prepared for fight-or-flight. “For this scene, I am your Dom and you will treat me with the respect a submissive owes any Dom.” He saw she wanted to continue to smart-mouth him, but lowered her gaze instead. “Now, tell me what you think about your punishment.”

Tears welled in her eyes again and her lips quivered, all signs her momentary lapse in judgment was receding. “I am sorry you feel you have to punish me.”

“How do you address your Dom?”

Concern crossed her face as she worried about receiving additional swats, but she quickly corrected her gaff. “Sir! I’m sorry, Sir.”

He nodded. “You say you’re sorry I have to punish you. What does that mean?” He could almost hear the gears turning in her head.

“I don’t think you want to punish me…Sir,” she added quickly. “I’m sorry to put you in a position where you feel you have to spank me.”

To say he was surprised by her response would be like the reaction he’d feel hearing someone call the firefight in Fallujah a picnic. His chest grew tight before he remembered to breathe. He’d only hoped she’d take responsibility for incurring the punishment, not that she would turn the tables on him and be concerned about his feelings about administering one. Her care for him touched him in places he didn’t want touched.

Shit
. Spanking a woman’s ass had always been like foreplay to him. Now he needed to spank this one and he’d never wanted anything less in his life. Somehow he knew that spanking her would be the turning point for them both.

Marc no longer feared she would reject him so much as he feared she’d want him, expecting more in return than he could give any woman. That she’d imprint on him as her Dom the way the Ugly Duckling imprinted on the mama duck in the children’s story. Lord love a duck, his mind was addled now. What the fuck was he going to do with her now? He needed to put some emotional distance between them again.

* * *

Angelina wasn’t sure what she’d said that had displeased him so. She tried to think of what she should have said, but had no clue. He visibly pulled away from her, even though she was still sitting in his lap. She wished she could stay here.

“Stand before me.”

His command sounded like a decree from a king, then the words of the CD she’d just been playing earlier tonight came to her—

No matter what you do

He's always in control

And when he calls your name, you have to follow

Oh, but she didn’t want to follow him. She was afraid of him and of so many things, most of which she didn’t want to put a name to. She slid off his lap to do as he’d told her, then turned and stood naked before him—more than naked of clothes.

“Places your hands behind you and clasp them when you stand before me like this.”

Her eyelids stung, but she refused to let him see her cry again.

“You are correct,
cara
. I do not enjoy punishing my subs. You won’t enjoy it either—not at first anyway. I won’t go easy on you. I want you to know what you can expect in the future with whoever becomes your Dom. He may be even more strict. But you will learn to be more in control of yourself and will not have to be punished very often.”

He paused and she filled in the space with a “Yes, Sir,” but her focus was on trying to prepare herself mentally for the moment when he would ask her to lie across his lap for her punishment. Looking down at his lap, she saw the bulge against his pants. She’d felt it earlier against her. He was aroused. Perhaps she could win back his favor by giving him some relief.

“…and the duckling realized it had been a beautiful swan all along.”

Angelina wondered how long this preparatory lecture would go on before he would actually begin the spanking. She’d never been spanked in her…what did he say? A duckling? Why was he talking about roast duck or whatever when she was about to be humiliated? She raised her gaze to his and saw his anger was on a very short leash.

“What did I just say, pet?”

What had he said? “You don’t like to punish subs…Sir.”

“What did I say after that?”

God, the only other word floating around in her brain was duckling. “Something about a duck, Sir?”

He took short, shallow breaths, seemingly at a loss for words, then reached out and took her arm, pulling her over his lap. “Oh!” After a stunned moment, she regained her presence of mind—and voice.

“Marc, I don’t think I’m ready yet.”

“What did you call me?”

Oh, God. She’d screwed up again. “Sir, I’m sorry. It’s just that I’m scared.”

He placed his arm across her back with his hand gripping her side to hold her in place. “To remind you, originally you incurred five blows for speaking when you were told not to and forgetting to use my title.”

All she heard was
originally
.

“In addition to the first five, you’ve incurred three additional swats.”

“Why?”

“For not listening to your Dom when he tried to explain your punishment, and for, once again, addressing me without the proper title.

“But I only did two more things wrong. Shouldn’t it be seven total?”

She heard him take a deep breath and release it slowly, as if he were counting to ten. No longer feeling sorry for him, she began to feel sorry for herself. She attempted to squirm from his lap, but he scissored her legs between his.

“Two of the swats were for ignoring your Dom. Place your hands flat on the floor.”

“No! I don’t want to play this game any longer. You aren’t my Dom!” She reached back with one hand to shield her butt from him, but he only took her hand and moved it out of his way, pressing it into her lower back.

“I assure you, this is not a game, pet. You will receive eight swats. Count each one as it is delivered and thank your Dom for each.” He rubbed her butt cheeks as if warming them up. Then his hand was gone.

Smack!

Before she had time to prepare her mind, the echo of the first blow reverberated around the room. Outraged at the humiliation of being treated like a child, she couldn’t even scream. After a moment, she felt the sting from his open palm against her buttocks, surprised it didn’t hurt as badly as she’d expected.

“I am waiting, but my patience is wearing thin.”

“One, thank you.”

“Let’s begin again.”

Smack!

His hand hit the same spot, the sting worse than the first blow. “One, Sir. Thank you,
Sir
.” There. Surely she’d given him enough of his precious titles this time.

“Your tone requires that we add two more swats to the count. If you want to get to your mind-blowing orgasm this evening, stop behaving like a brat.”

Smack!

This time, his hand landed on her other cheek. Again, it stung, but not to an unbearable level.

“Two. Thank you, Sir.”

Smack!

Smack!

Smack!

Suddenly, blows were falling rapidly on alternating her cheeks, but in the same places on each one over and over, each harder than the last. Her butt cheeks began to burn now, as if stung by a wasp.

“Stop! You’re hurting me!” Then she remembered to count. “Three, four, five, Sir. Thank you.”

If she’d just behaved, this could have been over by now. As it was, she was only halfway there. Obviously, Allen was wrong. She wasn’t a pain freak. This spanking proved it. His hand hurt her! She didn’t like this one bit.

He released her ankles from between his own. Seeing her opportunity to escape, she tried to maneuver one leg outward so she could stand up.

Smack!

Smack!

Smack!

Mio Dio!
All she’d managed to do was expose her pussy to his brutal hand. Each intense blow struck her labia, the last falling against her now exposed clit.

Her erect clit.

She sobbed silently in humiliation. How could her body betray her like this? And how much more did he think she could take? Her butt cheeks and pussy burned. Where was the gentle, caring man he’d been earlier? Just like Allen, he’d turned into a monster when she was at her most vulnerable.

“Have you forgotten something, pet?”

Her voice was raspy as she counted, “Six, seven, eight. Thank you, Sir.” She gasped on a ragged sob, her shoulders heaving as she sucked air into her lungs.

Then, as she awaited the last two slaps of his hand, he surprised her by stroking her butt and blowing cool air across her flaming cheeks to ease the raging fire. She whimpered. He slid his finger down her crack and between her folds, gliding easily between her pussy lips. His finger slipped easily into her vagina.

Angelina sobbed even harder at the humiliation.

“You’re so wet, my pet.”

She shook her head, her hair dancing on the floor below her. Then his finger slid to encircle her clit. He stroked the sides of the sensitive nubbin’s hood, increasing the pressure and speed. She gasped.
No! She didn’t want to come like this!

Keeping her in a state of confused excitement, he’d alternated pain with pleasure. Angelina felt the pressure of the coming release building. Her body craved both sensations; which she wanted more she couldn’t say. His hand delivered everything she wanted. Every stroke, every blow brought only pleasure now. Even faster than she’d come before with Luke, she drew closer to what she anticipated would be a cataclysmic release. She had to stop him. If she came, she’d be what Allen had said she was.

But the words wouldn’t travel from her brain to her mouth. Instead, she heard a moan of passion, horrified to realize it came from her own traitorous lips. When she thought she would explode into a million pieces, he removed his finger.

Smack!
As his hand stung her buttocks again, tears spilled in frustration.

“Nine, Sir. Thank you.” She continued to sob, unable to control herself. “I don’t want to any longer, Sir.”

Stroke. Rather than deliver another blow, Marc stroked her butt cheeks and clit again, causing her ass to bob up and down. More. Oh, God help her, she wanted more.

“Don’t want to what,
cara
?” His voice sounded strained.

She shook her head, unable to tell him what she feared most. “I don’t want to come, Sir.”

Smack!

He delivered the hardest swat yet just over her clit.

“Ten, Sir! Thank you! Oh, God, no more! Please, don’t touch me anymore.”

Stroke. He gently stroked her butt as he had before, then his hand was gone and she felt empty, longing for his touch, whether to be spanked or stroked, she wasn’t sure.

“Why don’t you want to come, pet?”

No!
She wouldn’t confess such embarrassing thoughts. Then she knew what she wanted. “Please, just stop!”

“The second part of your punishment was to receive a mind-blowing orgasm. I won’t deny you the full punishment, pet. But I do want to know why you don’t want me to continue.”

She groaned. Why did he keep harping about it? He had to know exactly what she’d been thinking. Her arousal made that obvious. Sometimes he knew her thoughts before they even registered in her own brain. Except for now, when he seemed to have no clue how badly she wanted to crawl into a hole and hide.

Oh
,
Mio Dio
, Allen was right. Another sob escaped her. He was right. Tears streamed from her eyes and her nose started to run.

“I will count to five and if you haven’t told me by then, I will add five more swats.”

No! That was just what her sick and twisted body wanted. “All right, I’ll tell you!” she screamed. “I’m a freak!” Her throat felt raw from a combination of crying and screaming, but she couldn’t stop the flow of words now. She twisted around to look up at him as best she could. “There, are you happy now? I’m a pain slut, just like Al—just like
you
said. I have to be restrained or in pain before I can enjoy sex.” After her admission had been torn from deep inside her, Angelina’s body slumped, her head hanging limply. A dry sob escaped her.

Marc muttered an earthy Italian curse as he pulled her up into his arms. The pain in her butt as it made contact with his lap caused her to gasp and fight to get away from him—the scene a mirror image of the one with her dream lover.

His arms tightened around her as he tried to control her movements. “Sit still, pet. You’ll only hurt worse if you squirm around.”

His words sank in after a moment and she stopped moving. Just as he said, the pain in her butt receded. But not the ache in her heart. She lowered her head, ashamed to look at him. Tears dripped onto her thighs.

“Shhhh.” He brushed her hair back, tucking it behind her ear so he could see her, she supposed. See her humiliation. “It’s over. You were so brave,
cara
.”

No. He wasn’t her dream lover. He’d hurt her. Angelina pushed out of his arms and stumbled to her feet. Without a backward glance, she ran to the bathroom. Oh, God. She was going to be sick.

Slamming the door behind her, she hovered over the toilet, holding her hair in her fist. Nothing but dry heaves. She wasn’t going to be sick after all. But she still felt sick, nonetheless. Standing, she went to the mirror, seeing red splotches and a bruised cheek. God, she was a mess. She pulled several tissues from the box and blew her nose. Running water, she took a washcloth from the shelf and wet it, then held the cold wet cloth against her face.

“
Cara
, open the door.”

“Go away…Sir.”