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"I'm not allowed to shout, I can stamp my feet, but I can't take my hands off the chair."
"Correct. Are you ready?"
"Yes, Sir, though I'm not exactly sure what I'm ready for."
"It will help if you take a deep breath before each strike. I'll be counting to three, so you'll know when to do that."
"Yes, Sir, thank you."
"The first is for sneaking into my cabin and attempting to manipulate me. One—two—take your breath—three."
With a practiced flick of his wrist he landed the stick, eliciting a loud hiss.
"The second, for dressing up like a harlot and ambushing me in the hall. One—two—three."
The strike landed just below the first, causing a bending of the knees and a loud groan.
"The next two for meeting up with Cooper Cross knowing very well he could be trouble. One—two— three."
The third brought the snapping back of her head, and caused her to stamp a foot.
"You're not to put yourself in jeopardy like that again. One—two—three."
The last was delivered to her sit spot, and she gripped the sides of the chair, clenched her teeth, bent her knees, and let out a low, deep growl.
"I'm leaving for a few minutes and you're free to do whatever you wish. I'll return shortly."
Turning her head, she watched him walk out the door, then moving to the bed she flopped on her stomach, but as she rested her hands on her stinging behind, she realized he could have landed the horrible stick a dozen times. He'd decided four was appropriate. He hadn't been cruel, or mean, or unfair. Sinking into the mattress and closing her eyes, though she wasn't sure why, an almost-smile crossed her lips.
Brittany wasn't the only one who needed a break. Duncan had to gather his thoughts. Her craving was so acute he found it surprising she'd never been under the authority of a loving Dominant, but she came from a small town. Those who shared the unique lifestyle had difficulty meeting each other in a large city. He couldn't imagine how hard it would be in a country community. Opening a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc and pouring himself a glass, he sipped the light refreshing wine and thought about the days ahead. He had every confidence she would be next to him on the plane back to London.
"Blast. I need to make her reservation," he muttered, the thought suddenly hitting him, and reaching for the phone he called Joe and asked him to book the seat.
"British Airways, First Class, and make sure they know we want seats next to each other."
"Yes, Mr. Davies, and forgive me if I'm overstepping, but may I say I'm very pleased to hear such happy news. There must be something special about those two staterooms."
"This has happened before?"
"Yes, sir. A couple of times. The same two cabins."
"How extraordinary. I'll be sure and tell Brittany. I hope I'll still need that seat when the time comes."
"I suspect you will," the steward replied, and Duncan could hear Joe's smile as he spoke.
He provided the additional information the steward needed to make the reservation, but as Duncan replaced the receiver he had an unexpected moment of doubt. A few days on a cruise and he'd invited a madcap Southern Belle into his home for a week.
"I've either completely lost my mind, or I really have fallen for her. I suppose love can make one do strange things."
Taking another sip of his wine, he began to think about what he'd do with her once they landed. The Bowler Hat immediately came to mind, and he grinned at the thought of taking her shopping for the right outfit. Then there were the shows at the West End, and indulging in the food court at Harrods. It wouldn't be a question of how to fill their time, but having enough time to do all the things on offer. But his smile began to fade. While the first few days would be all about fun—and salacious sex—on Monday he'd be back at work. Brittany would have to entertain herself until he returned home, and he'd have a brand new case waiting, a case he'd have to peruse after hours in his study.
"I'll worry about that when the time comes," he muttered. "If the time comes. It may not. I can't get ahead of myself."
Placing his wine glass on the counter, he returned to the bedroom and found her as he expected. Resting on her side. Moving to the bed he sat down and stroked the hair off her face.
"How are you?"
Opening her eyes, she stared up at him.
