Not Your Damn Dom (Denial Book 2) Read online

  Immediately, she sat up straighter, removed her hand from my lap and did as I’d commanded. The instant obedience made me feel like the king of the world. I was fucking doomed.

  I stood up. “Follow me.” As soon as she began to rise from her knees, I added, “Crawl.”

  She shot a startled glance up into my face, then lowered her head and got onto her hands and knees. I walked steadily through to the bedroom, not looking at her, knowing the way she moved would undo me.

  Alex

  I crawled after Spencer, my every sense on full alert. I couldn’t believe I’d actually gotten him to agree to this, after his total refusal just a few minutes ago. Guess sexual arousal really does cloud the mind. Or maybe now I know about the Dom part of him, he’s starting to let his guard down.

  Please let that be it.

  I put those thoughts to the back of my mind and concentrated on the moment. I couldn’t wait to find out what he had in store for me.

  He came to a stop beside his bed, and I resumed my kneeling position, assuming that was what a good submissive would do in a situation like this. Spencer didn’t comment, just pulled out a box from underneath the bed and opened it. From my spot a few feet away, I couldn’t make out much of what was in it, but I was dying to find out.

  “While you’re waiting for me to get this ready, stand up and strip. Completely naked.” He glanced over only for long enough to check I was following the order, then returned his attention to the box.

  Should I call him ‘Sir’? Would that freak him out, remind him that he didn’t want to be a Dom anymore? I wanted to show my deference to him but didn’t dare do anything that might ruin the scene. With clumsy fingers, I wriggled out of my clothing and set it aside, then resumed my kneeling position.

  Spencer had set a few things on the edge of the bed, and was now kicking the box back into its usual place. What else did he have in there?

  “Good girl.” I flushed at the praise, unable to keep myself from smiling, but didn’t answer.

  “Have you read about safewords?” he asked, turning to face me.

  “Yes, Sir.” It just slipped out, despite my anxiety. Thank God he didn’t seem bothered by the title.

  “I’ve always used traffic signals. Red to stop completely, and yellow to slow down. Does that work for you?”

  “It does, Sir.” I committed the words to memory, though I was sure I wouldn’t need either of them.

  He commanded me up onto my feet again. “You said you wanted to be spanked. Were you thinking with my hand, or with something else?”

  I was slightly disappointed that he was letting me decide, but chose not to let it show. “Your hand to start, Sir, if that’s okay.”

  Spencer’s eyes were predatory in a way that sent a thrill of anticipation through me. “That sounds pretty good to me. But first I have something else to do to you.”

  He picked up a coil of rope and handed it to me. “Unwind this for me.”

  I took it carefully. It was rougher than I’d expected, and not dyed at all. I hadn’t realised people used rope like this in the bedroom.

  The coil almost looked braided, but was easy to undo—once I got the first bit unravelled I could shake the rest out easily. I wondered if this way of storing rope was Spencer’s little quirk, or whether all Doms did it this way.

  He took the rope from me and doubled it up, then began to place knots in it at regular intervals while I waited, my hands behind my back. It took him only a minute or two to finish, and then he placed the top loop around my neck, with the first knot starting at my sternum.

  “Legs apart,” he told me.

  I immediately widened my stance.

  Ignoring the rope for a moment, he slipped his fingers between my thighs, rubbing lightly, coating his skin with my arousal and catching my clit teasingly a couple of times. I made a tiny noise of encouragement, but he removed his hand, leaving me wanting.

  I watched with fascination as he threaded the knotted rope between my legs. He then turned me so he could drag it up my back and secure it to itself where it rested against the nape of my neck. At his touch, I lowered my head to give him better access, shivering when the rope tightened and rubbed gently against my labia.

  “How does that feel?” he asked, as his touch fell away from my neck.

  “Amazing, Sir.” I felt a little lightheaded, but not in the same way I would if I were sick. Was this subspace? It couldn’t be—it was too subtle. From what I’d read, subspace was more all-encompassing than this.

  To my surprise, Spencer picked up more rope, and now I saw what the knots he’d put in the first piece were for. He anchored the doubled-up second piece to the end of the first, then used the two ends, one on either side of me, to pull apart the rope between the knots, creating pretty diamond shapes. Completely enthralled, I let him turn and tie me, following his quiet instructions to raise my arms, or lower them, or face away from him, or turn back, until I had diamonds running all the way from my sternum to my mound and, I assumed, all the way down my back too.

  Then he did something to the rope between my legs that pulled the two strands apart, and with them, my labia. I gasped as the cool air landed directly on my clit, my head falling farther forward. “Oh…my God…”

  Spencer’s soft laughter was pure mischief. “I figured you’d like that.”

  He tied off the rope somehow, each adjustment he made sending a new tingle through my pussy, then stepped back to look at me. “It’s been a while, so I’m out of practice, but this will do for now.”

  This was his ‘out of practice’ attempt? It was unbelievable. “Sir…”

  As though I’d shaken some of his doubts, he grabbed me by one of the loops of rope, tugged me forward and kissed me hard without releasing his hold. The rope tightened, making my labia part even more, and I had the crazy sense that I’d start dripping on the floor if this went on for much longer.

  Finally ending the kiss, leaving me trembling, he told me, “Fuck, you have no idea what you do to me, tied like this.”

  “What else can I do for you, Sir?” I asked softly.

  He tugged the rope one more time, then stepped back and pulled off his shirt. “Come here and bend over my lap, pretty girl.”

  My heart skipping, I approached, wondering how best to drape myself over his knees. He took the decision from me, positioning me as he wanted me, almost overbalancing me onto the floor in the process. I yelped and steadied myself against his knee, and he laughed softly. “I got you. Don’t worry, pretty girl.”

  I hung there as he closed his legs around mine, making me more secure. Blood rushed to my head, but it wasn’t a bad feeling.

  Spencer began to caress my skin firmly, arousing me even with the businesslike touches. The rope held my ass cheeks slightly apart, and I squirmed a little as he brushed a fingertip over my hole.

  “Don’t worry, pretty girl,” he said again. “You’ll know if I plan to fuck your ass.”

  I made an incoherent noise, lost for words.

  “I’m gonna spank you now. It won’t hurt at first. Remember your slow word?”

  “Yellow,” I confirmed.

  “Don’t forget it. I won’t be pissed off if you use it.”

  He squeezed each of my cheeks in turn, then brought his hand down for the first time in a gentle slap that relaxed me and made me laugh.

  “That funny to you?” His voice was amused.

  “I was expecting something with a little more bite,” I confessed.

  “I’m just getting warmed up,” he warned. “We’ll see if you’re laughing in a few minutes.”

  A shiver went through me, and now he was the one laughing.

  He slapped the other cheek, then went back to the first, never hitting the same place twice in a row, hitting from just below my tailbone to the backs of my thighs. Each time, the force of his strikes increased until the skin tingled with each slap, then a few moments later, the spanking began to sting in earnest. This was what I’d been expecti
ng, and although it hurt, my flesh on fire and erupting into new sparks with every blow, I loved the force behind it that jolted me slightly against him. It pulled at the rope still tied around my body, and though there was no direct stimulation to my clit, soft vibrations seemed to make it from my ass around to my aroused nub.

  I arched my back a little, trying to find something to rub against, and Spencer abruptly ceased the spanking, smoothing his hand over my overheated skin to brush the sting away.

  “How you doing, pretty girl?”

  I smiled, though he couldn’t see me. “Good, Sir.”

  As though he wanted to check the truth of my words, he sought out my pussy again, rubbing the wetness he found there into my clit. I jerked at the touch, then moaned and pushed against his fingers, hungry for more.

  “Aren’t you just the little painslut?” he murmured, pulling me more tightly against him. His hard-on dug into my side and I shivered, glad to have the affirmation that he was as turned on as I was.

  “You want more?”

  I didn’t know if he meant more of the spanking or the stimulation, but I’d gladly take either one. “Yes please, Sir.”

  He cupped my mound with one hand, freeing my labia from the rope, then squeezed the sensitive flesh in one hand as he resumed spanking me with the other. More off-balance now he wasn’t holding me securely, I steadied myself against the floor and gave in to the sensation. With every hard, rhythmic spank, my body jolted and my clit rubbed against his hand, sending pleasure sparking through me. Every time, I got a little closer to coming, but he wasn’t going quite fast enough.

  “Sir,” I gasped, hoping I wasn’t about to piss him off.

  “Ask, pretty painslut.”

  My pussy tightened at the new nickname.

  “Faster?”

  He growled, “You tell me when you’re about to come, understand?”

  “Yes,” I whispered, forgetting to call him ‘Sir’ as he increased the pace of each strike and I moaned with need, each spank jolting me closer and closer to oblivion. I cried out with every spank, my body tensing more and more each time the sublime pain jolted through my body and converted to searing heat in my pussy.

  “So close…so close…”

  Spencer released my tender flesh, sending blood rushing back into the area—and just as I thought I was about to explode, he dealt three light, rapid spanks right over the sweetest of spots.

  The orgasm sluiced through me, my hips bucking, my pussy squeezing around nothing over and over again. My thighs trembled as I slowly sagged across Spencer’s knee, whimpering as the aftershocks kept coming, sending more pleasurable spasms through me even though I was exhausted.

  Carefully, Spencer lifted me up from across his knee and bundled me into his lap. I was practically dead weight in his arms.

  He held me against his chest, his arms wonderfully tight around me, and as his lips brushed over my forehead I tilted my head back to look up into his face.

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  Something in his face softened, as though he’d been worried about…who knew what? I smiled up at him for extra reassurance, not even caring when I shifted a little and my spanked flesh began to protest.

  “Will I have bruises?” I asked, hoping the answer would be in the affirmative. Bruises would be a reminder for days to come of what he’d just done, and what I’d experienced.

  “Probably not, pretty girl,” he replied, stroking my hair out of my eyes.

  I grumbled wordlessly, and he laughed, genuine pleasure in his expression. “Maybe next time.”

  Next time. I grabbed on to that and held it tightly, closing my eyes so he wouldn’t notice how much hope he’d just given me. I doubted he realised what he’d just said, since he’d been adamant there wouldn’t be a next time earlier.

  “When are you gonna fuck me, Sir?” I teased.

  He growled softly, spilling me off his lap and onto the bed. Before I could orientate myself enough to reach for his waistband, he’d unsnapped his jeans and was in the process of stripping naked. His cock was steel-hard under my hand, harder than I’d ever felt it before, and he crawled on top of me before I could get a good grip, spreading my legs wide with both hands, then rubbing the head against my entrance, up to my clit, down again.

  “You want this? Then beg for it,” he ordered, teasing me without pause and moving away every time I tried to arch up to take him inside me.

  I begged shamelessly, my words spilling out in a chaotic mess, barely comprehensible. He understood the desperation behind the babble, though, and slid inside in one long thrust, filling my wet depths easily.

  I moaned and rested my feet on his chest, arching my back to take him in all the way. He brushed light kisses over my toes before leaning in farther, encouraging me to put my legs over his shoulders as he took my mouth roughly with his.

  “Please, Sir,” I begged for the millionth time, and he grinned, beginning to take me hard and fast.

  The ropes around me were still very much present, reminding me with every thrust that I was tied into a beautiful work of art. I reached up over my head to grab the headboard, supporting myself as Spencer fucked me into the mattress, his body hard with tension, almost ready for his release.

  Even if I’d only been watching him from a distance, the complete abandon in his movements would have turned me on. Being the recipient of his thrusts, seeing his need close up, was unbearably erotic, and I squeezed hard around his cock, trying to push him over the edge and almost taking myself over instead.

  He changed angles, leant down and bit one of my nipples, first softly, then harder, finishing with a swirl of his tongue. Before he’d even moved on to the other breast, I came for a second time, his cock inside me making the orgasm more intense than the first. I dug my nails into the headboard and lost myself, crying out, and he muffled the sound with his kiss, driving deep and groaning against my lips as he came.

  Somehow, I managed to disentangle my legs from around his shoulders and we sprawled out together on the bed, breathing hard.

  “Fuck, that was incredible,” I whispered, curling up at his side and draping my arm and leg over him.

  Spencer

  I pulled a blanket from the foot of the bed, then lay back down, ready to cocoon my submissive in it as soon as she’d cooled down enough to welcome it.

  My submissive. She really had embraced the scene, though it had been mild compared to what I could have come up with.

  Shit. Had I really told her I’d give her bruises ‘next time’?

  As Alex shivered lightly, I unfolded the blanket and covered us both with it, pulling her almost on top of me and holding her tightly beneath the fabric. She was warm, soft and relaxed, her breathing almost back to normal, and I needed her body heat and contact just as badly as she needed mine.

  I rarely got into Dom drop territory, but this was unmistakably one of those times, despite how tame the scene had been.

  “Are you okay?” she asked softly, sensing my unease.

  Part of me wanted to deal with this alone; to get up from the bed, pull on some clothing and go downstairs to beat the hell out of a punching bag until I felt better. The rest of me craved my submissive’s presence, her smile, her gratitude and contentment. I’d never forgive myself if I left her alone after her first ever scene. I buried my face in her hair and breathed deeply, absorbing her, taking comfort from her.

  “Yeah. I’m good.”

  She raised her face to mine for a soft, sweet kiss, then watched me for a moment. “Me too.”

  This intimacy was more than I’d ever thought I’d have again. I wasn’t thinking clearly enough to say anything more, or to untangle the dark threads of unease in my brain from the light, optimistic ones shining through. I just held her, stroked her hair until I fell into a doze, still holding Alex safely in my arms.

  * * * *

  Spencer

  I woke up alone, and for a moment I couldn’t remember why that was such a bad thing. Then I remember
ed the night before and rolled over with a groan, as though if I went back to sleep the whole problem would be resolved when I woke up.

  My brain wouldn’t let me get away with trying that, though.

  You topped Alex.

  She fucking loved it. So did you.

  You’re gonna break her.

  You can protect her.

  What are you thinking? You couldn’t protect Kristin and you were at the top of your game. What makes this any different?

  I gave up on the attractive concept of oblivion and got out of bed instead, pulling on a pair of sweatpants and walking through the apartment room by room, checking for her.

  I found her in the bathroom in her underwear, her panties pulled down, staring in fascination at the tiny, light purple marks that streaked across her ass here and there. The rest of her flesh wasn’t so much as reddened any more.

  She noticed my reflection behind her and grinned at it. “Morning, Sir. Thought you said I wouldn’t bruise?”

  I couldn’t help but turn her and examine the skin for myself. “Didn’t want to disappoint you if you didn’t.” The bruises were practically non-existent, but any marks were a big deal to a submissive. I remembered when I’d first marked Kristin, and she’d acted as though I’d just proposed marriage…

  My smile faded and the lead weight that had crushed down on me back in bed returned. Alex noticed, of course, and wound her arms around my neck. “Thank you, Spencer. Last night was a fantasy come true. I can’t wait for the weekend.”

  She’d disappeared into the hallway before I realised I’d promised to give her a full-on scene at the weekend. Could I go back on that now, since I’d given her last night? She’d never forgive me if I did. Fuck, what was I doing?

  One more scene, and that would be all. Either she’d accept it, accept my limitations…or she’d leave. Either way, I’d promised her.

  Shutting myself into the bathroom, I started my morning routine. I usually left showering until after I’d worked out downstairs for a while, but as the enormity of the previous night came down on me full force, I changed my plans and switched on the shower. I wanted to see Callum before my first personal training appointment started at eleven. If he was on set, he’d just fucking have to take a break, because I needed a sounding board and no one else knew the situation.