Dirty Bad Secrets(38)

The tears stopped in a heartbeat, and she stared up at me with big glassy eyes. “What’s this?”

“What does it fucking look like?” I said. I pulled out the cane and tapped it against my palm. My own personal favourite, and it felt just as smooth as I remembered it. A decent weight, yet springy enough to draw blood if you caught the skin right. She took out the paddle, and the strap, too, turning them over in her hands in nothing short of wonder.

I dropped the cane back in its case, and leaned over until her face was just an inch from mine. “So, what’s it going to be, Faye? Are you going to stand up for yourself and teach me a fucking lesson, or am I going to bend you over that desk and give you something to really cry about?”



***





Chapter Ten




Faye



Andy’s eyes were dark, dredging mine for the slightest sniff of weakness. His whole body was wired; tense and tightly wound, ready to spring for my throat.

It would have been so easy to let him. But not today. This was my day. My week.

I got to my feet, summoning every ounce of grit in my body.

“Strip,” I said. “Everything.”

His eyes flashed with the desire for rebellion, but his body followed my orders. He slipped off his jacket, then fumbled at his cufflinks, dropping them onto the desk with a metallic clunk. He pulled off his tie, laying it neatly across his jacket before his fingers worked their way down his shirt buttons. Solid shoulders topped a chest that was tight and toned, tapering into the sculpted wall of his abs and the muscular V of his hips. He kicked his shoes and socks off, unbuckled his belt and loosened his trousers just enough to drop them to the floor.

“Everything,” I repeated.

He hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his boxers and slid them down, making no effort to hide the thick swell of his cock.

His eyes ploughed into mine, and they were simmering; vicious and angry and clearly pissed off. I liked him that way. It would make hurting him taste all the fucking sweeter.

“What now?” he snapped. “Are you going to actually take charge or do I have to stand here like a prick all day?”

I pointed the cane at his desk. “Bend over, lie flat on your front.”

I scouted the contents of the case. Besides the paddle and cane, there was a skein of bondage rope, a set of handcuffs and a miniature swede flogger.

“That’s not all of it,” he said as he lowered himself onto the desk. “The rest is in a locker outside playroom four.”

“I think this will do for now.” I picked up the handcuffs and tested the key as he stared up at me, his bad attitude still written all over his face.

I threaded the handcuffs around the metal desk leg. “Wrists.”

He offered them out and I cuffed him into position. It was a beautiful stretch for a beautiful body. He was angled diagonally, his perfectly sculpted ass jutting out over the edge of the desk. He grunted as I reached under him to grip his cock. Easy access, what a bonus.

“Spread your legs,” I said.

Every one of his muscles was defined and tense, from the bulge of his calves to the glorious trunks of his thigh muscles.

“Are you going to fucking hit me, or just gawp all fucking day?”

I picked up the paddle. It was solid oak, nice and weighty. Just the quality I’d have expected from Andy Morgan. I ignored his question entirely.

“When did you last use this stuff?”

“Fuck knows. I hardly put it in the calendar,” he sneered.

“You’re not making this any easier for yourself. You know that, right?” I grazed the paddle across his ass cheeks. “I’m going to enjoy this, Andy. I think I may even get a taste for it.”

“You’re getting a little ahead of yourself, don’t you think?”

“We’ll see.” I stood to his side, smiling at the discovery that my knee was perfectly positioned to hook under and slam straight into his cock. I laughed as I demonstrated, applying just a little pressure. “I hope you’re feeling sufficiently vulnerable.”

“You’re wasting time,” he said. “We do have some work to do before the day’s over.”

I trailed my fingernails down his spine. “We’ll do whatever I fucking say we’re going to do.”

I pinned him by the neck, forcing his cheek flat to the desk so I could enjoy the seeing pain on his face. I rested the paddle on the small of his back, and slid my thumb along the crack of his ass. I wriggled it when I found his tight little asshole, not enough to penetrate, yet still I felt him flinch. “Scared of a little thumb? Surely not,” I mocked.

“Piss off,” he said. “It’s been a fucking while.”