Gasping in pain, she tried to rise, but his hand still on her back held her in place.
“Owwwww,” she moaned, blinking back tears. How on earth could a thin little ruler hurt so much?
Again, she tried to stand up, pushing back against his restraining hand, but he held her firm.
“Stay,” he commanded softly. “Let me admire my handiwork.”
Shame flooded through her as he pulled her knickers aside further, his big hand rubbing against her sore, bare skin, his fingers tracing along the lines that he had made.
“Let me see this naughty little bottom with the red marks on it from my ruler.” While he spoke, arousal tinging his voice, he continued rubbing her bottom, his skin rough, almost scratchy, against hers. “You were a very naughty little girl,” he growled.
His hand dipped lower, delving between her legs, his long fingers finding that special spot in a light, magical touch.
This time, her moan was one of excitement, not pain.
Abruptly, he withdrew his hand, slapping her bare lower cheeks instead, fuelling the flames that already danced across her bottom.
“Ow!” she yelped.
“Stand up,” he commanded, letting go of her, his voice hoarse with arousal.
She obeyed, adjusting her underwear and wincing at the tenderness as she smoothed down her skirt. But she couldn’t look at him. Weird feelings flooded her. Shame, insecurity, passion, pleasure, mingled with the pain from the spanking. He’d made her feel simultaneously liked a naughty child and like a passionate, lust-filled woman. How could a simple spanking make her feel so confused?
He cupped her chin and tilted her face up, forcing her to meet his gaze. His eyes blazed with passion. “You’re mine, little girl,” he growled. “Mine. You hear me?”
She did hear him. She heard the desire in his husky voice. Peeking down, she could see the bulge in the front of his trousers. A little quiver of desire went through her, followed by a flush of shame. She should not be getting turned on by this. He’d just set her backside on fire with nothing more than a few strokes of his small wooden ruler. It hadn’t even taken a lot of effort on his part.
“Do you know what it means to be mine?” he asked.
Did she know? She thought she did. And she’d just experienced part of what it meant. She knew there would be rules and spankings; he’d made that much clear. But what else had he said? Someone to give up control and let me take care of them completely. Had that been his exact wording? She couldn’t remember, but she knew it was pretty close.
“You want to take care of me,” she told him. “And give me rules, and spank me when I break them.”
He let go of her chin and put his hands on her shoulders instead, holding her tenderly. His loving smile nearly undid her.
“Yes, I want to take care of you, little girl. In every way. But the rules won’t just be arbitrary, they’ll be very specific, for your good. To take care of your health and wellbeing. And, in the case of being on time to work, to ensure you don’t lose your job. I want you to trust me, to confide in me, to unleash your burdens on me. Do you understand all that?”
It’s not like how it was with Cameron, her inner mind reassured her, and a wave of relief washed over her. Cameron had destroyed her. She’d given him her heart and he had taken it and trampled on it, he’d run away with it and broken it into a million pieces. If Matthew had been anything like Cameron, or if what he was proposing reminded her even a tiny bit of the relationship she’d had with Cameron, she wouldn’t want a bar of it.
She nodded. “I understand. But...” She broke off. How could she tell him she was hesitant? That she wasn’t brave enough to just jump in feet first with everything she had and hope for the best?
“But what, little girl?” His voice was so earnest, so kind, she took the plunge.
“I might need a bit of time. To get used to the idea. To learn to trust you. It’s not something I can do overnight, I’ve been hurt too badly before.” Her heart pounded. Would this be the end of them, now that she’d told him how afraid she was? Now that he knew she wasn’t as willing as he wanted her to be? Was it all over? She held her breath as his grip on her shoulders tightened, then eased and he brushed the back of one hand down her cheek in a tender, comforting gesture.
“Of course, baby girl. You take all the time that you need. You’re in control here.”
“I thought you were?”
He smiled. “I am. But you’re in control of your submission. It’s something that you give me as you choose; it’s not something I can wrest from you.”
She let out her breath, felt her shoulders relax. She’d been holding far more tension in them than what she realised. “So you’re not mad?”
“No, baby girl. Of course I’m not mad.” He drew her into his body then, and planted a gentle kiss on her forehead. She leaned against him, inhaled the musky, woody scent of his aftershave. It felt so right, snuggled against him like this, with his arm around her, holding her tight. She felt like she belonged to him.
She winced when he slid his arm down around behind her and squeezed her burning bottom playfully.
“Mine,” he whispered possessively.
His erection pressed into her belly as she ground her hips against him. She reached her hand back both to protect her bottom against further assault, and to rub it better.
“No,” he
