He was pretty sure she cursed under her breath as she leaned forward to crawl, but he wasn’t going to count off for that. He liked her dirty mouth, and the brazen things she said, and she could curse all she wanted as long as she called him sir and did what he told her to.

  Damn.

  This had to be the best view in all of Black Light. Cassandra Moreira on all fours, her lean curves swaying with each movement, and as short as that dress was anyone walking through the curtain behind her was going to get an eyeful of her perfect ass. Not like his perspective wasn’t incredible. The neckline of her dress scooped down, letting him see her cleavage every time she lifted her head to glare at him.

  Feisty little brat.

  When she finally settled at his feet, sitting back on her heels, he leaned down to pinch her chin. “Good girl.”

  Her slow smile showed just how much she wanted to smart off, but instead all that passed her lips was a sarcastic, “Thank you, sir.”

  Fake, sugary sweetness had tainted every word, and he chuckled as he lifted her chin, craning her neck back. “Stand up and take this dress off for me. You can leave the boots on for now.”

  Logan held out a hand to help her up, and she looked at it for a long second before she sighed and accepted it, letting him help her to her feet.

  “You’re so strange. Sir.”

  He chuckled, moving back to enjoy the show as she bundled the fabric to her hips, making her big hair bounce as she pulled it over her head in one sweeping motion. There wasn’t even a tiny hint of hesitation to her undressing, but he imagined she spent a lot of time half-naked around people as a model. That thought sparked a flare of jealousy inside him, but he pushed it away because there were so many better things to focus on. Every inch of her warm brown skin made his fingers itch to touch her. He could be patient though, because that would happen soon enough. “How am I strange?”

  “You can be such a pushy asshole, and then you do the gentleman thing like it’s no big deal,” she answered, laughing as she tossed the dress onto the arm of the couch behind him. “It’s strange, but it makes you interesting.”

  Shrugging, he didn’t argue the fact that he was a pushy asshole, or that he’d been raised to be a gentleman at all times — and, like a gentleman, he allowed almost a full thirty seconds before he grinned. “That’s eighteen.”

  “God dammit,” she muttered under her breath as she shook her head, but her smile was sunshine bright when she looked at him again.

  “Been a while?” he asked, stepping closer to slide his hand along the curve of her waist, resting it on her hip to squeeze.

  “About ten months,” she replied, still smiling, but his thoughts stumbled as she quickly added, “Sir.”

  Wait, is she serious?

  “You haven’t played since Roulette?”

  “Not a lot of time to track down the local BDSM club when I’m traveling for shoots or events, and the short times I’ve been back in town have kept me busy.” Cassandra shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. “So, yeah, you could say I’m a little out of practice, sir.”

  Fuck. And he’d been playing the hard-ass on protocol.

  “Well, then I guess you can be forgiven. We’ll keep it at seventeen,” he said, trying to play it off, but she scoffed.

  “I don’t need you to take it easy on me, sir. Or did you forget I’m not breakable?”

  “You have such a mouth on you,” he growled, catching her by the back of the neck to push her the last couple of feet to the couch. Sitting down, he hauled her across his lap in a single motion, yanking her ass into position to land the first hard spank. The sting burned his palm, so he knew she’d felt it, but all he got was a quick gasp. The next swat was firmer, making her ass shake, and he loved the way her body tensed. “Let me lay out the ground rules for tonight, my little brat.”

  “I am not—” she started to argue, and he cut her off with another hard smack of his palm, immediately adding a matching one to the other cheek.

  “Every time you act like a brat, I’m going to make you suffer a little longer. Each time you forget to call me sir, you’re going to wish you hadn’t.” Smack. “And whenever you think about being disobedient, remember that it was your choice to come to Black Light tonight. You chose this over dinner.”

  The next three spanks he added in quick succession, feeling the burn building in his hand as he focused each one on top of previous swats. Her hips wiggled over his lap, a sweet little sound slipping past her lips before she laughed. Propping herself up on her elbow, Cassandra twisted to look back at him. “Do you hear me complaining, sir?”

  “I swear…” Logan landed the next one directly on her sit spot, concentrating there to punctuate each of his words with hard swats. “You. Are. Such. A. Brat.”

  She squirmed against him, waking his cock up all the way as she let out a satisfied little groan that almost sounded like a purr. “If this is how you treat brats, sir, then call me whatever you want.”

  Biting back his smile, he grabbed a handful of her ass and squeezed, reveling in the heat as he added up the spanks in his head. Fourteen. Four more. Cassandra felt way too good stretched over his thighs, and if he wanted to get to what he’d planned, he needed to get her off his lap.

  Naughty girl.

  “Oh, you’re in so much trouble,” he growled, landing another stinging swat.

  Chapter 8

  Cassandra

  Her ass was on fire, but she loved it.

  She loved this.

  It was like she hadn’t even let herself think about how much she craved the pain, the kink, the dominance and submission until Logan had pushed her up against the wall. Then it had all flooded back like a sinful tidal wave, and each fierce spank just sent another wave crashing over her.

  How had she gone so long without this?

  Smack! A fresh rush of fire spread out from his hand, and she bit back the moan as it blended in with the heat in her skin. It hurt in the best way. Logan wasn’t playing around tonight, and she appreciated it. She didn’t want to waste time reminding him of what she was capable of taking, and the fact that he remembered what she liked had her smiling into her arms as another hard spank landed right on her sit spot.

  Hissing air between her teeth, she lifted one foot off the couch without thinking about it, but she slammed it back down when he chuckled above her.

  “Aww, did that one sting?” he mocked, and she laughed.

  “Maybe a little.” Another crack of his hand seemed to echo off the walls as he laid the swat directly over the same sensitive place, and she groaned with that intoxicating blend of pleasure and pain as the endorphins rushed through her system like delightful little soldiers. Her entire ass felt like it was glowing, and when he stroked his hand up her thighs to squeeze one cheek she bit down on her lip.

  “How do you address me at Black Light?” he asked, his voice edged with a growl that went straight between her thighs.

  “Sir,” she answered, and he shifted under her, his cock pressing into her side, but she’d seen his restraint during Roulette, and she had no doubt it would be a while before he fucked her.

  What scene have you come up with, Logan?

  His hand moved slowly, stroking over her ass and down her thigh before gliding back up on the inside. It sent a shiver through her as he got so close to where she wanted his touch — but he reversed, sliding back down her opposite thigh. Then he repeated the movement again. Ass, thigh, and then up the path between her legs, only to stop short.

  “Toying with me, sir?” she asked, leaning up so she could turn to see him. His gaze was focused on her ass for another minute as he continued his maddening strokes, but he eventually paused with his hand just inches from her underwear, looking over at her with a wicked grin.

  “I’m just getting started,” he replied, swatting her hard before completely lifting his hands from her. “Time to get up.”

  “What?” The surprise in her voice wasn’t fake as she rolled to her side on his lap, staring at him.

  He just stared back, lifting his eyebrows the tiniest fraction, and she groaned.

  “Sir,” she added, and he chuckled as he folded his hands behind his head.

  “Go on. Get up.”

  Shaking her head, she laughed under her breath as she climbed off his lap, planting her boots on the floor to stand. Logan Chisholm looked absolutely gorgeous reclining on the couch, his blond hair caught in that perpetual just-fucked state that made her want to run her hands through it. In that position, his button down stretched nicely across his muscular chest, and although she knew he was quite a bit older than her… he made it look good. Everything about him had her squeezing her thighs together in anticipation, but it was his blue eyes that had her attention for the moment.

  That devious little glint in them held so many promises.

  His gaze roamed over her curves, and it was almost like she could feel every place he looked. A tingling rush of memory from the last time he’d really touched her, up against the wall. That wall, she thought as her eyes flicked over to the space near the pool, remembering just how good it had felt to have him inside her, her legs wrapped around his hips as he made every thrust count.

  Fuck.

  Cassandra could feel the heat in her cheeks, and she just hoped that he couldn’t tell she was blushing, but his grin as he stood told her he had an idea.

  “No sass?” he asked, tilting his head.

  “I’ve got plenty, sir.”

  He chuckled. “Oh, I know that. I’ve been aware of your brat side since Roulette.”

  “You keep calling me a brat, sir, but I’m not. I don’t throw tantrums,” she retorted, grinning at him.

  “I didn’t call you a little, Cassandra. Brats have many flavors, and your sassy mouth and attitude are one hundred percent brat.”

  “So, you don’t want me to call you Daddy?” she asked, and a groan rumbled through his chest as he caught her by the waist and pulled her tightly against him.

  His lips brushed against her ear, a warm rush of breath sending a chill rushing over her skin just before he growled, “I’ve never really been into that… but if you get the urge when you’re begging later, feel free to try it out.”

  Goddamn.

  If her underwear wasn’t soaked already, it was now. Cassandra’s mouth felt dry as he dug his fingers into her hips and leaned back, skating his gaze over the meager cleavage Abelita’s gift had managed to create.

  “Ready?” he asked, grinning, and she tried to shake off the image he’d planted in her head as she nodded. “Good girl.”

  Logan turned away to grab his duffel bag from the floor, tossing her dress over his shoulder before he caught her by the back of the neck. Under any other circumstances she would have punched a guy in the throat for this kind of demeaning direction, but with Logan it felt natural.

  Hell, it felt good.

  She liked the way his fingers pinched in just enough for her to feel the strength in his hands, a public display of dominance and possession as he pushed her past the pool and up the steps into the dim hallway where all of the fantasy suites were tucked away. They didn’t have to go far though, because the little screen outside the door in front of them read ‘Reserved’ and Logan walked her right to it.

  “Inside,” he commanded as he opened it, releasing her neck to swat her ass again.

  “Yes, sir,” she answered with a laugh, moving forward into the playroom that looked exactly like a doctor’s office. The walls were stark white, and the ominous metal cabinets glinted in the bright, clinical light. But, the centerpiece of the room was the padded exam table, complete with a strip of paper running down its center. “So, do I call you doctor, now?”

  “Sir is fine,” Logan replied as he shut the door. Not that it mattered, since the huge window in the wall meant anyone wandering down the hall could see everything they did. It did make it a lot quieter though, muffling the music the club kept on as Logan put his duffel bag up on the counter next to the tiny sink.

  Moving to the exam table, Cassandra turned and hopped up onto it. Listening to the paper crinkle as she leaned back to grin at him. “I don’t know… dirty doctor sounds like a lot of fun.”

  Logan glanced at her from where he was gathering things from the drawers, a handful of shiny devices that he dropped onto a little metal tray with a clatter. “Did I say you could get on the table yet?”

  “No, sir,” she answered. Spreading her knees a little, she watched his eyes flicker down before coming back to hers with a hard expression.

  “Up,” he commanded, but she lingered, curious what Logan would do when she wasn’t tied down to a spanking bench. It only took a second for him to close the gap between them, a hard grip finding the back of her neck as he yanked her off the table and immediately turned her around to bend her over it. Shoving her down with his hold on her neck, he spanked her again and again. Brilliant flashes of burning pain had the heat returning fast, accompanied by the sting with each crash of his palm, and she knew she was thoroughly soaked when he finally stopped.

  Breathing harder, head spinning, Cassandra tried to find something clever to say, but then he was pressed against her. Leaning over her back with his hand still on her neck, controlling her, holding her down while he ground his dick against her ass.

  Fuck.

  It was the weight of him pinning her down, or the hard bulge she could feel trapped behind his slacks, or the combination of both that kept her tongue still. All she wanted was to feel him inside her again, and she squirmed under him to get it, rubbing against his erection until he smacked her hip.

  “Naughty girl,” he purred, nipping the skin over her ribs. “You’re trying to push my buttons.”

  “Seems like I’m succeeding,” she quipped, and he delivered a mock thrust as he landed another swat.

  “Oh, my little brat, you wish I’d fuck you right now. I’ve got way more self-control than that.” Chuckling, Logan released the back of her neck, leaning up to unhook her bra with a flick of his fingers. Then he stepped back, his fingers finding the edge of her underwear to drag them down her thighs, over her boots, and then he tapped each ankle to make her lift her feet free of the delicate lace.

  “Not tearing my clothes this time, sir?” she asked, propped up on her elbows to turn and look at him. Logan stood up and shook his head, her underwear dangling from one of his fingers.

  “Do you want these in your mouth, or do you want to be able to beg?” The words shot straight between her thighs, and she honestly couldn’t decide which option sounded hotter, but he chose for her when he tucked them into his pocket. “Never mind. I definitely want to hear you begging.”

  “Confident, aren’t you?” Cassandra grinned as she turned onto her side, laughing a little as his gaze trailed over her, a blaze of hunger in his pale blue eyes before he dragged them back up to her face.

  “That you’ll be begging?” He smirked and wrapped his hands around her thighs, flipping her onto her back in a smooth move that bent her knees and pushed her thighs wide — leaving him in an excellent position between them. “Absolutely.”

  “You’re so cocky.” Her eyes trailed down to the bulge in his slacks. “Sir. Especially since you didn’t get me to beg during Roulette.”

  “Really? I seem to remember you saying a lot of ‘please please please’ while I had my fist inside you.” Logan had mocked her, adding a breathy tone to the words, and she couldn’t help but laugh.

  “Okay, you’re right, I probably said please.” She shrugged. “I still don’t think that counts as begging, sir.”

  “Guess I’ll just have to try harder tonight,” he replied, not seeming to be even the smallest bit fazed by her comment. Sliding his hands up the backs up her thighs, and then down the slope of her calves, he set her heels down on the edge of the table. “Now it’s time to take these incredibly sexy boots off for your exam.”

  “You like these, sir?” she asked, watching as Logan grabbed one of her boots to start pulling it off, and she twisted her foot inside it to help him. “My roommate picked them for the outfit.”

  “She has excellent taste.” With one final tug he got the first boot off, walking to the wall to set it out of the way.

  “Who says my roommate is a girl?” Cassandra loved the flicker in his expression before that mask of self-control descended again.

  Was that jealousy?

  “Whoever it is has excellent taste then,” Logan corrected, and she laughed as he grabbed the second boot to repeat the process. This one took a little more effort, and he ended up stumbling back a step when her leg finally came free, grumbling under his breath.

  “Her name is Abelita,” she finally said, having some mercy on Mr. Serious, and Logan sighed, shaking his head as he went to set the boot next to its match.

  “Do you fuck with everyone like this? Or are you just a brat with me?” he asked as he came back to the table, pulling one of her wrists above her head to loop a built-in cuff around it, tightening it with a sharp jerk.

  “I don’t take life too seriously, sir.” Cassandra watched his face as he threaded the cuff back through, walking around the back of the table to tether her other wrist down as well. He looked so intense, but that seemed to be his default expression when she wasn’t making him smile or laugh. “You might benefit from doing that more often.”

  “Doing what?” he asked, looking down at her as he finished cuffing her arms above her head.

  “Not taking life so seriously.”

  “Right.” Logan scoffed, reaching over her to place a hand on the table beside her ribs while the other trailed up her side, circling the outside of her breast. His gaze avoided hers, staring instead at her nipple as it slowly tightened into a peak without him ever touching it. It was the teasing touch that kept sweeping so close without ever actually reaching the sensitive bud that caused it, sending a shiver over her skin and bringing both nipples to attention.

  “You don’t believe me?” she asked, her voice a little breathier than before as the slow burn of arousal spread.

 

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