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Simon
Sadie’s not the dramatic type, I thought as I led her through the house. She wasn’t springing some last-minute loss of nerve on me. She was genuinely worried that our future was in doubt.
Damn Cynthia, and Maddy along with her. They’d done their best to cast a shadow over what should have been a glorious event for us. Now I had to put out the fire before it burned down our house. I needed to win Sadie’s confidence back and at the same time give her a reminder she wouldn’t soon forget.
I walked slowly, a standard ploy when she was in trouble, and I wanted her to consider her fate.
Only today I wasn’t trying to deliver that message. For a change I was walking slowly because I was trying to figure out what had upset her so much. She needed a spanking, that was clear. But first she needed some loving tenderness.
One thing was certain, if Sadie walked away from me and our marriage, she’d end up every bit as sharp-edged as her mother. Twenty years down the road, she’d be cutting people’s happiness off at the knees, just like Cynthia wanted to destroy ours. Misery indeed loves company.
Sadie hesitated momentarily before she handed me the hairbrush. The apprehension in her eyes made me want to hold her and kiss away the look of worry, but I straightened my back and reminded myself that comforting came later.
With my help, Sadie would find her sword and shield. She’d fight her own fears.
I’d never taken time to brush her hair before and the sensation of her long silky hair smoothing flat under the hairbrush was a slow meditation. I worked methodically as I waited for her to relax under my touch. When her posture softened, I led her to her own chair on the other side of the fireplace and knelt before her, hoping she would understand that I was opening my heart to her. I had only prostrated myself to her like that one other time, when I proposed. Sadie was the only woman who could bring me to my knees.
When she uttered that facetiousuntrustworthycomment, I knew she was asking me to take control. That’s what she did in times of uncertainty or loneliness. She challenged me with sassiness or taunts that saidI need help.
Ordering her to assume the position was a test. I held my breath as I said it. It was the moment that would decide if we were viable as a couple. If she submitted to me in the moment of her greatest doubts, then we could move forward. If not, I would have to brace myself for the fact that I might lose her.
As she laid herself across my knees, I smiled with relief and satisfaction. She’d accepted my command. We had a future together. Her comment that she ended up there because I liked the view wasn’t all that far off the truth, which amused and then annoyed me. At first, I had intended to spank her with only my hand, but that one flippant statement made me reach for the hairbrush. Insubordination through mind reading and other spell casting could not be tolerated.
So, I went to work, re-establishing my control of her, and making her step away from the doubt and worries that undermine relationships. Her cheeky comment spurred me to administer a spanking that would not be confused with foreplay. I spanked hard. Discipline sessions were not petty or playful.
Holding her afterward, as she sobbed and fought for self-control, I savored her open vulnerability, that part of her she normally hid from the world. She had only cried like that once before and I knew it wasn’t the pain of the spanking triggering her tears. She was crying from a broken heart, from the thought that she wasn’t good enough for me, and the fear I’d eventually get tired of her.
She had so much to learn.
When she’d gone over my knee voluntarily, her submission was an aphrodisiac. She trusted me enough to obey. The heat of her body so close to mine made me want to take her to bed. But not just yet. She needed time to find her equilibrium again.
Sadie
After the spanking, Simon declared it was time to go home. I was happy to say goodbye to the island, along with the fear and uncertainty I’d found there for the first time.Bridey’s Pride, Simon’s cigarette boat got us back to Vancouver quickly. We were home in the penthouse by midafternoon. Once he’d unlocked the door to our place, Simon left the suitcases where they were and lifted me into his arms. In the bedroom, he set me on my feet and undressed me. When I was naked, he held me to him, and I savored the loving comfort of his strong arms.
Without saying anything, he pulled back the covers on the bed and indicated that I should lie down. He went back to the hallway, brought in our bags, and locked the door. When he joined me in the bedroom and began to remove his clothes, an aroused flush colored his face and his cock was rising, hard and promising.
Before he could slip into bed beside me, his phone rang. Our weekend break was officially over. It was Layla, his primary, hardworking PA. Simon went into his study to take the call and I got up, pulled on a sundress, and went to search for something for dinner.
“Time for work. We’ve got a meeting downtown.” Simon walked into the kitchen and set his phone on the island. “The South Americans want to talk some more about GreenDaze.”
“And exactly how would I be able to help?” I smiled, hoping I’d kept the ‘I don’t want to go’ tone out of my voice. I was hopeless at foreign languages and the entire meeting would be in Spanish. I’d taken classes so I’d probably understand a word here or there and be able to smile in not entirely wrong places, but mostly I’d add nothing of any value. Simon had a rare gift for learning languages. I’d looked it up. He was a hyperpolyglot–someone who was a gifted and massive language accumulator.
I was the exact opposite. I couldn’t even speak pig Latin. High school French had been a nightmare even though I lived in Québec, surrounded by people speaking it. Regardless of my lack of language skills, Simon often asked me to join meetings conducted in a foreign tongue. He liked my feedback on what I understood, without the hindrance of words.
It was Sunday. I’d just plateaued after a furious emotional storm. I didn’t want to go to any damned meeting. Layla should go in my place.
She’d been with Simon since he formed the business and always put together the agendas and necessary paperwork for his negotiations. She did the real PA work while my role as his second PA was honorary more or less.
I kept his business life on track when he traveled, according to her instructions. Simon had hired me to take her place when he was on the road. Layla no longer wanted to travel, so he’d invented a second PA job for me within his multinational corporate conglomerate and made up my duties as he went along.
“You will help me by being there,” he said. “I don’t want to leave you here alone in your vulnerable state right now. Come and sit through the meeting, and afterwards we’ll drive up Cypress and have a picnic supper.”
The man knew how to sweet talk me. The Cypress Mountain Viewpoint was one of the most romantic spots in Vancouver. Fifteen hundred feet up the side of the mountain, it was a small park with a breathtaking panorama of the glittering city. From there, we could see across the Georgia Strait to the Gulf Islands. To the south, Mount Baker in Washington state was visible on all but the cloudiest days.
On warm summer nights like this one, people arrived in droves to take in the view, giving the place a party atmosphere. I loved to sit and watch them laughing, visiting, and taking photos of each other. It was so festive.
Simon knew that and was bribing me with it. I couldn’t say no to a picnic there. He put his hands gently on my shoulders and pointed me in the direction of the bedroom. “Bring your laptop, sit at one end of the boardroom table, and pretend you’re taking notes or something. You can work on TripleR3 or play games. No one will know the difference, but I want you there. Who knows? If you listen hard, you may even improve your Spanish.”
