Page 31 of Mischief Mayhem

I wanted to believe him, and perhaps that’s why I agreed to this in the first place. But some small churning in my gut reminded me to keep my emotions at arm’s length. This wasn’t a relationship. This was kink. Period. End of story. With the tension of my sudden anticipation growing between us and nothing else to ask him, I glanced down at the paper again. “Get to work on that. I’ll be back in a few moments.”

Hollywood nodded, picked up the pen, and began writing down his limits. Now that we’d taken sex off the table for tonight, the real work of breaking him down could begin. Oh, he’d come, and I probably would, too. But I’d stay resolute on our No Fucking policy, at least until this felt more solid.

Right now, we were walking on cracked glass, hoping it didn’t shatter, and I’d never been much of a risk-taker, at least not when it came to my stupid little heart.

11

HOLLYWOOD

I scribbled through that checklist like my ass was on fire, marking maybe or yes to most of the stuff on it. I’d never been into scat or wet works, so those were firm limits, but anything else was on the table. I filled out the spot for safeword, writing “Full House” since that was the hand I’d been dealt that put us in this position. Then, I sat at the table and waited for V to return. She’d told me to stay put, so I didn’t dare move. I just sipped at the water like a good boy and stared at the scratch in the middle of the wood, remembering when KC made it as a teenager.

My heart pounded down into my cock, already rock hard with expectation at what tonight might bring. I hadn’t had a dominant since my ex and that had been more about her pissing off her husband than it was about building a relationship with me, but fuck it. I’d just wanted to get my ass spanked and dick sucked, and she’d been up for the job.

When the door opened down the hallway and the boom of V’s shitkickers sauntered toward me, I bit my bottom lip and glanced up at her.

Fucking. Fuck.

She looked amazing, wearing a black leather bodysuit with a halter crossing her chest that disappeared over her shoulders. She’d worn the same boots she had on the night at the clubhouse, and my blood pounded harder at the memory of her digging that heel into an old bullet wound.

I didn’t realize my mouth was hanging open until she tucked the end of a riding crop under my chin to close it.

“Are you ready, pretty boy?” She leaned down so she could glance at my checklist, giving me a view straight down her cleavage. Fuck, I wanted to shove my face into that mound of flesh and breathe her in deep. I wanted to tuck my cock in between those magnificent tits and fuck the tip into her mouth until I came. “Hmm, so we like pegging after all.”

“I like a dick in the ass as much as anyone.” There was nothing quite like being held down and screwed so hard I saw stars. Not all guys would admit it; most wouldn’t even try it. But with someone who knew what they were doing, my prostate ached for a good massage.

“Shut up.” She brought the crop down on the table so hard, I jumped more than the glasses of water. “You can talk when I tell you.”

Gulping, I nodded and swallowed the exhilaration shooting through my veins. She was the only one who talked to me like this, and it was so fucking mean, I loved it. I couldn’t imagine anyone else doing what she could do. It was part of what made her so alluring in the first place.

“Safeword is ‘full house,’” she said, fisting her fingers into my hair. “You may speak that at any time. Otherwise, the only words you’ll say are ‘Yes, Mistress.’”

“Yes, Mistress,” I repeated, giving her another quick nod of approval. My hands trembled, and I clenched them into fists to keep myself from appearing so nervous. Why the hell was I shaking? This was V, a woman I’d known since childhood, a woman I trusted beyond reason.

“Good boy,” she said, yanking my head back.

Another jerk rocketed through my cock at her words, and the praise slut inside me sat up at attention. I liked earning her affection. I liked when she handled me like this.

“Now, get up and walk down the hallway to my old room. When you get there, take off your clothes and kneel on the pillow on the floor.” She let me go as I pushed to my feet, attempting to play it cool by not sprinting down the hallway to do her bidding. Her degrading giggle indicated I hadn’t done a very good job.

I ripped my shirt over my head as soon as I got inside the room, kicking my boots off by the heels. I nearly lost my balance and fell over, but once I had those off, my jeans went next. I thought about leaving my boxers on. She had said we weren’t going to break my streak, so I didn’t want to be standing around with my dick hanging out. But she had told me to get naked, so I pushed my underwear to the ground and stepped out of them.

Then, I spotted the red cushion on the ground, perfectly sized for someone to kneel. Giving myself one last chance to bail out, I eyed the door and swallowed down my cowardice.

I want this. It’s gonna be fun.

I dropped to my knees, rested my hands on my thighs, and waited for my Mistress to come do her worst. Heartbeats pounded in my chest like a bass drum as I looked around. A metal St. Andrew’s Cross stood in the corner with padded cuffs at the end of each part of the X. A spanking bench sat next to that, the leather seemingly supple and unused though I knew better. I wondered how many asses that thing had seen. A rainbow display of ropes hung on the wall at my side and the dresser under that had all its drawers closed, but I could’ve guessed what treasures lay protected behind its wood. If she’d asked about pegging, she must have a strap, and my muscles quaked at the thought I might see it one day.

I took a deep breath to calm my anticipation. This was all part of the scene—drawing it out, making me wait, using my time against me. After all, the teasing was half the fun.

A fucking million years later, V finally walked down the hallway, the echoes of her boots thumping in time with my pulse. She rounded the door and slapped the crop in her other hand, raising a dark eyebrow as she assessed me.

“I have to say, Hudson,” she started, taking a few steps toward me, “I did not think you would be so obedient right away.” Reaching the business end of her tool out to me again, she glided the cool leather down one side of my cheek before going to the other. “I thought I’d have to train you at least a little bit.”

I swallowed, resisting the urge to talk back.

“Look at how beautiful you are on your knees for me.” Mistress shook her head and squatted down so we were eye level, her gaze surprisingly gentle despite the horrors she must have planned for my ass.

I preened at the compliment, my cheeks burning, a hot flush going down my neck and over my chest. She reached out to trace a finger over the circular scar on my shoulder where I’d been shot two years ago. Chills erupted over my skin when she dragged it farther down to the one we shared, the one that meant I’d saved her life.

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