Page 40 of Wanted
“Yes, Sir.” She nodded, but already her lingering irritation at his implied weakness was giving way to the tingling now growing inside her. Her stomach was knotting. The anticipation heightening as they turned from unfamiliar streets onto familiar ones. She was on a route she knew now. They were almost to Black Light, and her nerves were kicking into high gear.
She closed her eyes, trying to imagine the beach and warm sand squishing between her toes. She blew out a slow breath, willing her uncooperative heart to slow. This wasn’t going to be any big deal. It wasn’t like she was going to walk into the infamous BDSM night club and run straight into Ethen. His ghost, maybe, but not the man and probably not any of his friends. He’d been very careful who he’d let fuck her at the private parties in his house. Yes, a few had been Black Light members, but most had been strangers picked up in parks, malls, or bars. He hadn’t wanted anyone at the club to know what sort of things he did, especially to his submissives, in private.
Her hands moved from her lap to her stomach, smoothing imaginary wrinkles from her new dress. It was black, sequined, high in the skirt, low in the back. The whole time she’d been putting on her makeup, she kept looking at herself in this dress and half the time she thought she looked all right. The other half, she thought she looked like a skeleton, with her blonde hair done up in a high ponytail on top of her head and just a few too many ribs showing on her chest where her cleavage should have been drawing eyes.
His hand settled on her thigh, just above her knee, giving her a gentle squeeze. The heat of that sank into her even more effectively than the seat warmer before he said, “You look good, Anna.”
She nodded. “You do too.”
And he did. He looked better than good in black leather pants, a black, short sleeved t-shirt that fit as if it had been molded to his chest and broad shoulders, and black leather wrist cuffs.
“I’m more used to seeing submissives in cuffs like that,” she’d said when he’d first emerged from his room and she saw what he intended to wear to the play party tonight.
“They’re convenient,” was his mild reply. When she’d only blinked at him, he’d said, “If you misbehave, I don’t have to stop what I’m doing and get my bag. I just have to cuff your hands in front of you with these and put you over my knee. Or over a spanking bench, or on a cross. The point is, I’ve always got restraints and a belt on me, and there isn’t a damn thing you can do about it once I decide to use them.”
He’d probably be appalled at how deliciously her stomach had dropped when he’d said that, lighting a low pulse of arousal low in her belly and sending a heated flood down to soak the crotch of her panties. Or maybe he did know, because he smiled and winked at her.
“I could use my safeword,” she’d belatedly replied.
She’d secretly melted all over herself when he came walking back to her, tipped her chin in his hand so he could look into her eyes as he said, “And that, honey, is why you get to go to the play party tonight.”
They turned down the next street, and she saw the parking garage, with the psychic shop just a little further down the street. The well-lit front looked so innocent. How many people not ‘in the know’ would have absolute fits to discover there was more going on behind that innocuous storefront than palm-readings, mystic stones, incense, and tarot cards?
She rubbed her stomach again, but it was too late to turn around and go back now. They’d come all this way, and to be honest, as nervous as she was, she really didn’t want to go back. Would walking in there feel like coming home, or like walking into a tiger’s cage?
Finding a place to park, Marcus shut off the car and then sat back, making himself comfortable to wait. It was his habit. The last time he’d got out first to get her door had been the day he’d brought her home. Now, he waited for her to compose herself, to brace herself mentally and physically. Only when she was ready enough to open her own door, did he get out.
“I’m ready,” she whispered.
“Good girl.”
They got out together, left the parking garage and went down the stairs to street level together, and crossed the street walking side-by-side, because if she fell even once into the trap of walking behind him, there was a paddle on the wall ‘with her name on it’ and he wasn’t shy when it came time to swing it.
“I’m not Ethen,” he’d say. “Don’t you dare treat me like him.”
She tried really hard not to, but if she wasn’t consciously thinking about it, the habit was to fall back, let him take the lead, and trail in his shadow. Unseen, unheard, head down. She was comfortable like that. Walking in at his side was the uncomfortable thing. It felt... obvious, scrutinized. Dominant.
Marcus preferred her by his side though, so by his side she did her best to stay. But the closer the building loomed, the harder it was to keep pace with him. Her nervousness was spreading from her hands and her stomach, into her legs. Her knees all but knocked together by the time they reached the front door.
The bell on the shop tinkled as Marcus opened the door for her. It still grated on her every time he did that. In one part, it made her feel special when he did gentlemanly things like opening doors for her, but on the other, she really ought to be the one doing that for—
She squeaked a yelp at the speed at which he grabbed her arm the second they were inside. The world spun as he flipped her under his arm, wrapping her around his hip before the flat of his iron-hard hand came raining down in a sharp storm of slaps that attacked the whole surface of her bottom. The sting escalated into pain with shocking quickness, and it was almost more than she could make herself take in motionless obedience.
She yelped again and grabbed his leg to keep from reaching back. It took more than a few seconds for him to finish, and when he did, it was all she could do not to grab her butt the second he yanked her upright again.
“Are you ever going to roll your hand at me again?” he calmly asked.
“No, Sir.” The sting in her bottom was already blossoming into smoldering heat. And yet, her rebel mouth kicked in anyway, “But you’ll notice, you didn’t fall over.”
He tipped his head, studying her for five of the longest seconds of her life. She had a feeling the only thing that saved her from going back over his hip was when the security guard in the back of the shop parted the curtain and looked out at them. “This is a public place, people. Wait until you get downstairs.”
Tsking tongue against teeth, Marcus clamped the warm hand he’d just spanked her with on the back of her neck and steered her toward the guard.
“Evening, Luis,” he greeted. “How have you been?”
“Doing really good.” He brightened, beaming. “Paula is too. She just passed her last exam. In about two hours, someone’s going to spell me and she’s going to be up on the stage for a reward and a bit of stress relief. She wants to see how many she can take with the bullwhip before she calls it. It’ll be intense. When I saw you on the guest list, I thought I’d mention it.”
“I’ll be there,” Marcus told him, shaking his hand and patting him once on the shoulder before taking Anna’s arm.
