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Her fingers trembled as she unzipped and shed her coat, leaving it on the chair beside her.
“If I told you about the meeting, you wouldn’t have let me go,” she said softly as she pulled her sweater over her head.
“Maybe we could have gone with you.” Bastian inserted.
Garrick slammed the drawer shut and moved over the second set on the other side of the desk, jerking the bottom drawer open.
“He wouldn’t have met with me then.” Ariella pushed her jeans over her hips, down her legs, then stepped out of them, losing her shoes in the process.
“We’ll talk about Ares later,” Garrick said with his attention still in the drawer.
“I’m sorry. Really. And I’m sorry your brother had to get involved.” The whole ordeal was made worse by Garrick’s family getting involved. Now, not only would his brother be on him about this, but his cousins seemed to want to get inside the situation as well. She’d made a real mess of things for one simple meeting.
“Fuck…ah!” Garrick pulled his arm out of the bottom drawer and sat back with a victorious grin. Holding up the item, he eyed it. “It’s been a while since I needed it,” he explained as he moved to his feet and kicked the drawer closed.
Ariella’s hands froze behind her after unclasping her bra when she saw the item—a well-weathered, brown leather strap. Shorter than a belt, the piece of leather was secured into a thick wooden handle. Trepidation trickled down her spine as he turned the instrument over in his hand, inspecting the damn thing.
“You’re stalling,” Garrick lifted his eyes to hers.
She swallowed back the plea sitting on her tongue and let her bra slide down her arms.
“Leave those,” Garrick said when her hands moved to her panties. “I’ll take them down myself.” He walked around the desk, tapping the damn paddle against his leg as he did so. He walked past her to a straight-backed chair in the corner of the room. He carried it easily to the center of the room and plunked it down.
Ariella’s stomach twisted into a tighter knot as his dark eyes locked with hers. He yanked off his suit jacket and tossed it onto the same chair where her clothing sat in a pile. Her skin heated beneath his gaze. She crossed her arms, trying to cover up, but he gave a slight shake of his head, and she put them back at her sides. He worked the buttons of his cuffs without glancing at them, then rolled each sleeve up to his elbow, exposing the dark tattoos. Ink covered his hands and his wrists, then continued all the way up into his sleeve.
“Come here, Princess.” He beckoned her with the crook of his finger.
She turned to Bastian, who had moved in the time it took Garrick to ready himself. He leaned one shoulder against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest and one foot hooked over the other—an onlooker waiting for the show to begin.
“Don’t make me repeat myself.” Garrick’s voice hardened, and she turned back to him. The leather paddle balanced on his knee.
Everything inside her shook, but she managed to get her feet to work. One step, then another, until she was at his side. He pressed his right hand to her hip as soon as she was close enough. No pressure, just simply touching her. It was enough to make her toes curl into the hardwood floor.
“Over my knee.”
She swallowed hard, trying to get her throat open enough for more air to come to her. This would be openly participating, and shouldn’t she be screaming for him to leave her alone? Shouldn’t she be trying to escape the room and demanding they never so much as look at her again?
She glanced again at Bastian, who looked downright bored, then slowly lowered herself over Garrick’s lap. His hard thighs pressed into her stomach. One knee lifted, and his hands were on her back, her ass, lifting her and moving her as though she were a rag doll until he had her positioned just where he wanted her.
Being completely upside down made the blood rush to her head. She pushed her hands against the floor, promising herself she would not fall on her face. His knee lifted again, and she braced herself to be rolled off, but he wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer, anchoring her to his body.
“Keep your hands in front of you, Princess,” his voice boomed with the instruction. “And your feet down. The only part of you I’m aiming for is this pretty ass of yours.” He tapped the bottom of her cheeks with the paddle lightly. She clenched immediately. “Clenching won’t help. It will just make me spank harder.” He rested the cool leather against her skin until she took a breath and relaxed her ass. “Do you understand?”
“Yes.” She nodded.
He chortled. “You said that this morning, too, didn’t you? That’s how you got into this mess, lying over my lap waiting for your spanking.”
Her face lit up in an explosive blush. Couldn’t he choose different words? Why did he have to make it sound so…so…erotic?
“Answer him, Ariella.” Bastian’s voice floated over her back.
“Yes, Garrick. I did. But then I got–”
A hard slap of the leather across her ass jolted her.
“No excuses, Princess. When we’re finished, you can tell me the whole story.” He laid the paddle on the small of her back. “Don’t let that fall.”
She bit down on her lip and concentrated on keeping her muscles frozen. His fingers slid beneath the elastic of her panties, and she didn’t have to try so hard to stay still. Her body went rigid as he peeled the white and pink striped cotton panties over her ass, tugging them further until they bunched at her knees.
