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“Fashionably late,” she shot back with a sassy smirk, cocking her hip to the side in a way that brought his attention to her impossibly long legs and the high, white heels that would undoubtedly be killing her feet by the end of her shift.
Dragging his eyes away from her legs, he forced his gaze back up to her face, and the dramatic makeup she’d chosen for the night that made her look much older than she was. Old enough that he could almost make himself believe he wouldn’t be risking the most important friendship in his life if he actually did allow her to fulfill her contract the way she’d originally intended.
Almost. But not quite. “There is no such thing as fashionably late for work, Charlotte. Spanking or lines?”
Her eyes went round in her face, but he didn’t miss the spark of excitement in the pale gray. “What?”
“Your punishment for being tardy. Would you prefer a spanking or writing ‘I will not be late’ two hundred times?”
Disciplining an employee this way was ethically murky at best. He was fairly certain it was downright illegal. But the thought of getting pretty little Charlotte Duvall over his knee again was just too tempting to pass up.
Her tongue darted out, wetting her lips, and he just barely resisted the urge to groan. “Spanking, please.”
If there was a stairway to heaven, he was taking the express elevator to hell. “Very well. Come here.”
Taking her hand, he guided her over to the long black couch at the opposite end of his office, where he sat and pulled her down over his lap. His cock twitched painfully as he pushed the hem of her dress up over her hips to reveal the perfect pale globes of her ass. There wasn’t a mark on her from the night before, and he wondered if she was still sore at all.
Obviously not, if she was testing him so soon.
Cupping one cheek in his hand, he squeezed, his cock twitching at the feel of her soft skin in his palm. “You will be on time from now on. If you are running late, you will text me as soon as you are able to. The next time I have to punish you for this, you will receive one swat of the paddle for every minute you are late. Am I understood, little girl?”
“Yes, Sir.”
She didn’t sound the least bit apologetic, but he figured he could change that quickly enough. Wrapping one arm around her waist, he lifted his free hand and brought it down on her ass with a smack that echoed around his office.
God, he loved that first swat. The way the skin turned white under his hand before he pulled it away to watch as that first pink handprint appeared. He gave himself a moment to admire it before really getting to work.
It didn’t take long for her tone to change. Her bottom was barely pink when she began squirming over his lap. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry! I won’t be late again!”
“I’m very glad to hear that.” But he’d been punishing naughty little girls like her for long enough to know that they would say anything to stop a punishment well before they were actually remorseful. So he kept spanking, ignoring her cries and pleas as he reddened her beautiful bottom.
Charlotte’s begging filled the air, and by the time he shifted the focus of his swats to her sit-spots, his cock was so hard he worried that a stray touch from her might set him off.
By the time he capped the spanking off with six extra-hard swats, she was sniffling pitifully over his knee. Another woman, another time, he would have slipped his hand between her thighs to test how wet she was. Even without doing so, he could smell her arousal in the air, and his hand drifted lower, lower.
Another sorrowful sniffle from her managed to snap him out of his trance before he did something they’d both regret. “Come here, Lottie-bug. It’s all over.”
She scrambled to sit up, wrapping herself around him as he rocked her gently, rubbing his hand in circles over her back. Fucking hell, he’d missed this. Aftercare was one of his favorite parts of a scene, and it had been far too long since he’d allowed himself to indulge. Normally, he negotiated to have someone else care for a submissive he scened with, but not only had he not set that up prior to punishing Charlotte, the idea of letting anyone else hold her, comfort her, made him want to rage.
“Are you going to be late again?” he asked softly.
Another of those pitiful little sniffles that simultaneously made him want to snuggle her closer and put her on her knees so he could look down into those tearful blue eyes as she swallowed his cock. “No, Sir.”
“Good girl.”
To his surprise, she snuggled closer. “I probably shouldn’t like that so much.”
“Shouldn’t like what? Being called a good girl?”
“Yes. It’s not very feminist of me. And I’d slap the fuck out of anybody else who said that to me, but when you say it… I feel all… tingly.”
She squirmed, grinding her crotch against his leg so he was left with no doubt as to where exactly she was feeling tingly. Where the hell had this come from? “Charlotte…”
“I’m sorry. It’s just, I’ve never felt like this with anyone before.” There was an unmistakable plea in her voice, so different from the defiant and cocky woman she’d been the night before it was hard to believe it was the same person snuggled on his lap.
And god, he wanted to give her what she was so clearly asking for. If he’d ever wanted anything more in his entire life, he couldn’t remember. Moving of its own accord, his hand drifted down to her hip, stroking the soft, bare skin. Charlotte whimpered, grinding herself against his leg again, and he closed his eyes against the wave of guilt crashing over him.
“Sir, please. I need… please.”
