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Standing up, he came to the middle of the room where I had stopped. I sank on to my knees. “Master.” I assumed my submissive pose, hands resting on my parted thighs.
“God, Gemma,” he groaned, and ran his fingers through my hair, tugging on a few locks.
I expected to give him a blow job. Something quick and easy to please him, but the way he grabbed my arm, pulling me up, warned me he’d something else in mind.
“You don’t wander off when I’m expecting your company.” He marched over to his desk and began to clear a space amongst his papers.
“I didn’t, not really…. You’re going to punish me for going walkabout?” How did I respond—an indignant wife, naughty brat, or demure submissive?
“Skirt up, lower your knickers, and bend over the desk.” He tapped it with his finger.
I shot a glance over my shoulder at the door. I’d bolted it, but all the same, what if somebody wanted to see him right now?
“Gemma, your list of transgressions grows longer with each passing second. You disappeared on me, turned away from me in the lift, and now you’re hesitating. This is your last warning.” He dissected my faults, and I tingled all over at the sound of his wonderful dominating voice.
I snapped the elastic of my knickers and wriggled them down to my knees. I bent over his desk, resting my head on my arms, and presented my bare arse.
I opted for demure submissive. Sometimes he liked a naughty aspect to my responses, however, today I judged he wanted compliance. His excuse for spanking me was thin, but spankings weren’t necessarily about punishments or breaking rules; occasionally he tested my willingness to submit without question.
He circled a buttock, warming the cheek with his palm, and I snatched a breath, locked my knees straight, and braced my hips against the edge of the table.
The smack of his hand echoed about the room and I jolted, surprised by its ferocity.
I muted an ow, gritted my teeth, and accepted the next slap with the fortitude I knew I mustered.
“Why am I spanking you?”
Because…because…. My mouth opened and shut with each bruising wallop. The answer stayed stuck in my throat as I fought with the enveloping pain. No warm-up, no rubbing down—he rained the smacks down without pausing.
“I…wasn’t here,” I croaked and hunted about the table for something to grip, knocking over a pile of papers.
“Keep still,” he instructed and pressed a hand into the small of my back. “You came to have lunch with me, not for a reunion.” More stinging smacks and I suppressed the desire to snipe at him. He hadn’t been here either.
How long had he waited before he’d come to find me? Had I been gone long with Penny? Maybe. Then, I’d loitered by the notice board and delayed my return further. I clenched my pained buttocks together. Perhaps, I subconsciously didn’t want to spend time with my husband because I knew he was withdrawn and distracted by work. I wanted attention, and now I had it, I squandered it.
“I’m sorry, Sir. I selfishly gave my time to another.” I squawked, struggling to process the searing heat of my bottom.
Jason stopped, and I exhaled, steaming up the polished surface of the table. He circled each cheek with his hot hand, spreading the pain, and I relaxed. He slipped a finger along my slit, pushing my swollen labia aside. My clitoris fired up for action, tensing as he probed. While I lay motionless, he worked my sex with his fingers, shoving two then three inside me. The sense of helplessness and the power he had over me caused me to leak. He chuckled at my state of wetness and withdrew.
Slipping my knickers back up, he smoothed my skirt down and held my hand as I stood. The heat in my arse continued to increase, and the blaze gave me a warm glow in other places. I bowed my head, maintaining my meek attitude, and he rubbed my knuckles with his thumb—my favourite little act of reassurance. His rather ferocious spanking had fed something inside him, and even in the silence of the room, our restless breaths told a story of unrequited lust.
He glanced at his watch. “You’ll have to go. Time’s up. You’ll have to wait, my subbie.” He bent over to kiss my lips.
I didn’t mind the wait. I glowed as he gave me a brisk hug. I’d given him something work had failed to deliver. My acquiescence provided him with a simple moment of dominance in the middle of his otherwise crappy day. I had done that for him, and nobody else but me could satisfy his hunger.
Chapter 10. Withdrawing
The arrival of May brought an unexpected request from my husband. Request implied choice, whereas what he said felt like an order with the assumption of compliance on my part. “We’re going to New York.”
I put my fork down and digested his comment rather than my dinner. “We?”
“You, me, and Joshua. Clara has her holiday to take; you two might as well join me. I need a few days over there; you can show Joshua some sights, visit galleries, spy on them, whatever. I want you near me.”
He hadn’t demanded my company, however, I could think of no reason to say no to his request. I quite fancied seeing more established galleries and quizzing their proprietors about their operations and choice of exhibitions. The more inspiration I received, the better.
“As you wish,” I said, while wondering what had prompted him to desire my company when he preferred to keep me out of his business trips.
Everything was quickly put in place, all the baby necessities listed and sent to the caretaker for him to provide at the New York penthouse apartment. For the flight over in the private jet, Joshua was a good b
