Signed, Sealed & Delivered Page 2

  And he was still waiting. “If it pleases you, Sir.”

  “If I ask your opinion directly, I expect a straight answer.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “You understand the difference?”

  “Yes.” If asked a direct question, he required honesty. If he suggested something he’d like to do to her, the decision as to whether or not to do it was up to him.

  “Did you ever get your spanking?”

  “I did.” And the memory was there, fresh and real. “When I was about twenty-three. I met a man at a club. I’d had a drink or two and told him what I wanted. Since he was a Dom, he took me home and gave me a sound thrashing.”

  Ethan didn’t ask questions, but his silence was both instruction and invitation. She continued, “It was hot. I, uhm, loved it. But then…” She trailed off, mucking around to find the right words. “I had this hunger to…I don’t know. Serve? I wanted to be on my knees, I wanted to kiss his hand. He wanted to fuck and then hold me in his arms.” She broke position to run her hand through her hair.

  “Punishment is a part of submission,” he said. “And so is reward.”

  “But—”

  “But you weren’t craving just a spanking, little one. You were craving submission. Your Dom didn’t understand the mental angles. You wanted punishment and reward. You got punishment, but there was no crime to be punished for. Not even a made-up one. The psychological angles weren’t explored or exploited.” He captured her chin with his thumb and forefinger.

  She felt his power, his strength.

  She was glad she came. There was no place on the planet she’d rather be than on her knees in front of a man who did understand the psychology of what she craved.

  “Therefore it was shallow. Meaningless. And it didn’t satisfy.”

  “Yes.” That was it, what she herself had never comprehended.

  “Your instincts were right, by the way. You should have had a deeper hunger to serve. You should have wanted to kiss his hand. That’s submission. Spanking and being tied up, that’s kink.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with kink.”

  “Quite right,” he agreed. “A little ‘tie me up, tie me down’ can be good for some. But for others, for submissives, it’s not enough.”

  “For me, it’s not enough. Not that I don’t enjoy just being tied up and…”

  “Say it.”

  She ran her tongue across the front of her teeth. “Fucked.”

  “Go on.”

  “But I lay awake thinking that there has to be more.”

  “A submissive finds pleasure from pleasing her master.”

  And she wanted to please this man. She wanted to turn her head into his palm, wanted to kiss his hand. She had no idea if she pleased him at all. Did the way she stayed there, fighting for balance against the car’s sway, despite the fact her body ached, make him happy? Damn it! She had no idea if she was doing anything right.

  “That said, that doesn’t mean you cannot or will not be punished, spanked, or flogged simply because I want to beat you. Seeing you writhe beneath my whip will give me pleasure.” Tightening his grip a bit, he added, “But it will never be meaningless.”

  She wanted to lean into him, to surrender. The pad of his thumb felt rough, callused. This man was so much more than just a gentleman.

  In the quiet, in the dark, he asked, “What do you want to do right now? What do you want to say?”

  “Thank you,” she whispered. “I want to thank you, and not just because that’s what a properly trained sub would do.” Her thanks came from the heart. This man, more than anyone she’d ever met, understood her. “Thank you for understanding, for helping me to understand.

  “I want to kiss your hand because I know it will give me pleasure, as well as pain. And I want to press myself against you, begging for your touch.” Never had Alana been so boldly honest. This man she’d never met before tonight aroused her, tantalised her. She wanted him to possess her.

  Yet she was still fully clothed.

  He held her face prisoner still, and he tenderly stroked her cheekbone with his forefinger.

  She tried to kiss him, but he forbade it. She closed her eyes. “I—”

  “Is your pussy wet?”

  “Yes.” And it was. Very wet.

  “Show me.”

  Alana frowned. Show him, how?

  He released her and sat back in his seat.

  Spreading her thighs even farther apart, she grabbed the hem of her skirt and pulled it up. She tucked it into her waistband to keep the material out of the way, and then reached between her legs to run her fingertips across her damp crotch.

  She bit back an involuntary moan. Her entire body was sensitised, and even the lightest touch from her own fingers was enough to push her over the edge.

  “Show me,” he repeated.

  She held out her hand towards him. Resting on the cane, he once again leaned forward. He took her hand and raised it to his nose. There was no way to miss the sharp scent of her arousal. It filled the car. She thought she should be embarrassed, but, releasing her, he gave her no opportunity.

  “Lick your fingers.”

  What?

  “Lick your fingers,” he repeated.

  With a shudder, she forced herself to tamp down her instinctive rebellion and do as he instructed. She raised her hand, and then sucked her fingers into her mouth. Her juices were salty, but, she had to admit, not all that unpleasant.

  “Do you want to orgasm?”

  “Yes,” she whispered. The shame of the admission made her drop her head forward.

  “You want to fuck yourself in front of me, where even Thomas can hear your every moan?”

  So that was the driver’s name. Thomas.

  “Alana?”

  She wanted the orgasm.

  She didn’t want an audience.

  Being uninhibited in front of Ethan was one thing. He’d tolerate nothing less. But behaving that way in front of both men was another, especially since she was attracted to the driver. “I’ve never masturbated in front of anyone,” she confessed.

  “Because?”

  “I’ve never been an exhibitionist.” Something seemed particularly naughty about that.

  “So you’d prefer to be denied an orgasm?”

  “No,” she said quickly. She knew enough about the lifestyle to realise it wasn’t smart to turn down an offered orgasm. You never knew when you’d get another chance.

  He turned on an interior light. But because of the way it was positioned, she didn’t get a better glimpse of him. “You have two minutes to bring yourself off.”

  “Two minutes?” She couldn’t do anything in less than five.

  “One minute and fifty-five seconds,” he amended.

  “But—”

  “Allow me to help.” He leaned forward and slapped her cunt, hard.

  She jerked and cried out. Her breaths came in shocked, panting bursts. But once the burning sting receded, she was even wetter than before. Damn it. Damn him. He knew her so completely already.

  “Fuck yourself,” he ordered.

  Her fingers shook and her senses swam.

  This couldn’t possibly be happening.

  “I—” Feeling miserable, she parted her labia. From his smack, her clit was hardened and swollen. She pulled back the hood, exposing the nub so she could gently rub it.

  This was more difficult than she could have imagined, letting go of her inhibitions long enough to masturbate herself to orgasm in front of two strangers, despite the fact she’d begged for the opportunity to come to England.

  She worked her fingers against her clit, pushing them deep into her pussy, but the damned orgasm remained elusive.

  So close… Painfully close… She jerked her hips, humping her hand. But she couldn’t quite…

  Suddenly, Ethan dug his hand in her hair, simultaneously pulling and imprisoning her head as he said, “You’d do well to follow my orders, girl.” His breath was hot on her face. �
��If you don’t climax when given the opportunity, it will be a long time before you are given another chance.”

  She nodded, but the motion pulled her hair tight and made her wince.

  “I have a fairly good idea what kind of Doms you’ve been with in the past,” he added. “Weak. Players. Men who don’t understand submission. Do not confuse me with them.”

  “No,” she said, “I won’t.”

  “I told you to fuck yourself.”

  Furiously, she kept working her pussy. Her senses were overloaded, her nerves were stretched to their limit, and her brain was unable to complete a rational thought.

  “Time’s up,” he said.

  Chapter Two

  An obviously dejected Alana dropped her hand and as he released his hold on her, sank onto her haunches.

  “Another thing you’ll learn,” Ethan told her, intentionally keeping his voice moderated and patient, “is that I do not tolerate my subs feeling sorry for themselves. It gets in the way of learning. You’re here of your own free will. You’re welcome to leave at any time. I trust you’re clear on that?”

  Alana nodded.

  “Then why are you not kneeling correctly?”

  She cursed softly and scrambled back into position.

  Part of Ethan wondered what in the hell he was doing here. Several years ago, he had completely sworn off training. Men, as well as women. There was little reward in it. He taught natural subs what they needed to know, then sent them off, rarely to be seen again.

  Since his return from the war, he hadn’t accepted anyone. He’d been comfortable, even happy, alone. He was satisfied to have Thomas in his life, and the estate would pass to his brother’s children. Everything was satisfactorily handled.

  The blasted cold and damp bothered his knee. He could have stayed at home, in front of the fire, nursing a fine brandy that Thomas poured for him.

  Instead, he was out in the nasty weather, trying to teach a headstrong woman to get out of her own way.

  Normally he wouldn’t have bothered, but she was persistent.

  She’d managed to work past the layers of security he’d built around himself, and she’d accessed his private e-mail.

  He’d discarded her first request. And the next dozen.

  She was brash, though, and pushy. He’d been intrigued.

  And, if he were as honest with himself as he demanded she be with herself, he wasn’t sorry he’d dragged himself out of the house to meet her at the airport.

  The excitement of training again, and especially, of training her, had brightened an otherwise dreary winter. “Spread your legs farther,” he told his lovely want-to-be sub.

  Despite what she said about her impulse to kiss her Dom’s hand after she’d been spanked, despite the fact she’d thanked him and kissed him, despite what she herself thought, she wasn’t a complete natural. She had to fight her instinctive urges. Serving him would be an afterthought, forcing her to subjugate her own impulses. And he doubted she could do that. It took extreme desire to be a sub if it didn’t come naturally.

  She probably wanted to explore the naughtier side of life and then scamper away. Ethan wouldn’t be surprised if she turned her American arse back west and fled across the pond in less than two days.

  He just hoped he was wrong.

  Her thigh muscles trembled at the unnatural position. Still, she didn’t move. “Hands on your thighs. And no matter what, you may not touch yourself.”

  He looked at her. Her brows were drawn together, and she struggled not to disobey him. Clearly, she wanted the climax that was just a few more seconds out of reach. There was nothing calm about her.

  Which, perhaps, was why he’d accepted the challenge, even though he’d sworn he’d never accept another novice. Training a natural? That was old hat; he’d done it dozens of times. But someone who was merely interested, more curious than anything, almost a total novice? Now that was different. “What’s the longest amount of time you’ve gone without an orgasm?”

  “A day?” she said, still with that adorable frown on her brow. “Maybe two? Unless I have sex, I usually masturbate twice a day.”

  “And when you’re being dominated?”

  “I have multiple orgasms,” she admitted.

  Ethan heard no shame in her admission, and he delighted in it. Absently he wondered how many orgasms she could take before passing out in his arms. “Tell me about the shortest amount of time it took you to come.”

  “Tony…he was a Dom who took me to his condo. He started to spank me, and after about half a dozen slaps, I started to wriggle about. I thought I’d get chastised, but he instructed me to part my legs. He ground his thumb against my clit and I came instantly.”

  “Interesting that in your fantasises, your Dom doesn’t fuck you. Yet you’re telling me you come quickly while being spanked.”

  “I do.”

  “Were you punished for orgasming instantly?”

  “No.” She shook her head.

  He noticed her tip her head, as if straining to see him. He sensed her frustration, stemming, he imagined, from the inability to look at her Dominator, the stranger she’d entrusted her mind, body, and soul to. Purposefully, he used the dark and shadows to delve into the deepest parts of her psyche.

  “Tony got off on pleasing me.”

  “While I expect you to get off on pleasing me.”

  A huge difference, they both knew. But ultimately, that’s where her pleasure would come from.

  “It pleases me to have you lie on the floor, on your back, with your legs spread. Now.”

  She licked her bottom lip in a nervous gesture. But she complied without having to be told a second time.

  “Lift your arse.”

  Digging her heels into the floorboards, she lifted her hips.

  “I want to know, beyond what you’ve already said, why you’re here. We have exchanged enough e-mails that you know I’m not inclined to give you a good hiding, then fuck you until you curl up and go to sleep.”

  “That’s not what I want.”

  “Are you certain?”

  To her credit, she hesitated before answering. Then she gave the honesty he demanded. “I want to explore that part of me where I want to kiss my Dom’s hand after he’s administered pain with it.”

  Not a natural, but curious enough to be malleable in his hands. “Masturbate yourself.” He repositioned the interior light. Since she was on her back, looking up at the car’s ceiling and he was lounging back in his seat with a small beam directed between her legs, he could see all her secrets, but she still couldn’t see him.

  “That’s a girl,” he said, “rock your hips as if you were being fucked.”

  Since she had only slim high-heeled shoes to balance on, following his orders proved difficult, as he’d intended. The muscles in her thighs and calves strained, and the motion of the limousine made it even more challenging.

  “You’ve got a good view then, Thomas, in the rear-view mirror?” Ethan asked.

  A horrified blush burned into her cheeks. Ethan was charmed.

  “Yes, Master. Indeed.”

  A small shudder passed through her. Ethan knew it was one thing for a new sub to expose her pussy to the man mastering her, but it was another entirely to have another servant ogle her.

  “Ethan,” she breathed.

  “Having him see your pussy cream pleases me.”

  She opened her mouth as if to argue, but he interrupted her thoughts by saying, “Spread your labia.”

  It took only a couple of seconds for her to overcome her hesitation. That was a couple of seconds longer than he’d allow her in the future.

  “Your cunt is wet, slut.”

  She whimpered, but part of Ethan’s training was the constant assault on emotions and mental as well as physical defences. His use of language was intentional. Everything he did was intentional.

  He grabbed a very large dildo from a storage compartment next to the leather seat. He pressed it against her gaping
vaginal opening.

  “Ethan?” she asked.

  “Sir,” he corrected. One thing at a time. “I’m holding a large dildo,” he told her. “It will probably feel too big.” He began to ease it in.

  “It is…” She gasped. “Too big.”

  “No, it’s not,” he said. “Relax and take it.”

  “I…” She thrashed from side to side.

  “Can. You can. You will. It pleases me to see you stretched and vulnerable, and I assume it pleases Thomas as well.”

  “Yes, Master, it does,” Thomas said. “It’s been a while since we’ve had someone to play with.”

  “Keep your hips up,” Ethan said, seeing her struggle. “Keep your hole wide open for this cock.” He worked it, pushing it in, pulling it back out, twisting it around. “It’s glass,” he said. “Only the best for my little sub.”

  Stretched, probed, fucked, she gasped. No doubt it hurt. But her gasps had pleasure in them, as well.

  “Arse up,” he said when she started to drop her hips.

  “It’s…”

  “The perfect size,” he finished for her. “Even if it feels like it’s too big. You’ve got a greedy, needy cunt.”

  His words, as naughty and raw as they were, made her wetter.

  He chuckled. “See?”

  “Is this…? Uh… I mean…”

  What was she trying to say? “Punishment for not bringing yourself off?” he supplied helpfully.

  She yelped. “Oh!”

  “Yes.”

  Twisting and pushing, he forced the enormous cock in deeper.

  “I can’t…”

  “You can.”

  She tried to squirm away, fighting off the intrusion. He pinched the inside of her thigh.

  She cried out. But the distraction worked. The toy slid in all the way, filling her. Her eyes closed.

  “It’s like…” She seemed to cast about for words.

  “It’s what?

  His lovely sub was unable to answer. He wanted to ram his cock up her arse as he reached beneath her and twisted her nipples painfully. That would be sensory overload.

  His blood rushed to fill his penis, making it hard and demanding.