Hanging by a Moment (A 1Night Stand Story) Page 4

  “Easy, baby,” he whispered, steadying her on her feet. “Turn.”

  Emily obeyed and closed her eyes as some of the tension drained in response to his gentleness. They flew open as the zipper glided down her back. He slid the dress from her shoulders and let it pool at her feet, leaving her nearly naked in the soft light. Every bad memory of gym class, her ex-husband’s cutting remarks, and her body image came screaming at her. She started to cover herself.

  “No.” He caught her wrists. “You’re a very beautiful woman, and I want to see every inch of you.”

  “Please—”

  “Emily….” He guided her hands to her sides. “Face me.”

  She turned and lifted her eyes to meet his. Gone was the hard, demanding Master. Tom had returned. Gentle, sweet Tom. She melted at the affection and tenderness in his gaze.

  “Trust me, baby.” His deep, warm, reassuring voice vibrated to her core. The comforting sound of it made her drop her guard and relax. He sat, pulling her into his lap. Hyper-sensitive with adrenaline, every fiber of the silk suit he wore burned against her heated skin. His woodsy scent was comforting and raw male. “What’s wrong, Emie? Tell me why you want to hide from me.”

  Emie—so sweet and soothing. She nestled into his chest as he wrapped his arms around her. He held her for a moment and she used the time to gather her thoughts and gain a little equilibrium.

  “I asked you a question, honey,” he said a little more firmly.

  “I don’t know.” She buried her face into his neck.

  “I think you do. Tell me.”

  “Tom, please. I don’t want to talk about it now.” She shifted in his lap, unable to find a comfortable position. He unhooked her bra, rubbing small circles on her back. “Can we turn off the lights?”

  “No. I want to see you. In fact, I plan on exploring every inch of you, with the lights on.” She stiffened at the prospect. “I’m surprised an artist is ashamed of a naked body.”

  “I’m not ashamed of a naked body.”

  “Then, what’s the problem?”

  “There’s no damn problem. Let me go, and let’s get this over with.” She shoved against his chest to rise.

  “Did I tell you to fucking move?” he growled, digging his fingers into her skin. “Now either you tell me what the hell the problem is, or I’ll march you, naked, through this house, up to the third floor, and we’ll play in front of all those people who were at your show tonight.”

  “You wouldn’t dare!”

  Emily regretted the words the second they were out of her mouth. Tom stood, roughly set her on her feet, grabbed her arm, and dragged her toward the door. “No! Stop! Let me fucking go, you bastard!” She clawed at his hand, fighting to be released.

  “Then start talking.”

  “Fuck you!”

  He ignored her struggles, reaching for the doorknob. Like a butterfly trying to move a piece of granite, she couldn’t pry his fingers loose from her arm.

  “I’m fat! Okay? I’m ugly! I’m a damn freak! I don’t want anyone seeing me! Are you happy?” Tears poured down her cheeks in a flood of mortification. She’d never verbalized how she really viewed her body, and the humiliating words hung in the air.

  Tom stared at her, shock registering on his handsome features. The sexiest man she’d ever known would finally see he’d be much happier with one of the twiggy-Stepford wives. She clung to the lapels of his jacket and cried as he pulled her close. He kissed her forehead and ushered her to the bed where he set her down with another kiss. Picking up the denim work shirt she’d worn earlier, he wrapped her inside its comforting folds. In her shattered mind, there weren’t enough clothes in the world to cover herself. He joined her on the bed and held her. Time dragged in uncomfortable silence before he spoke again.

  “Emie, I’m not sure how we’re going to do this, but somehow, I need to make you see you’re nothing like you think.”

  “I know, once we screw, it’ll all be over with and—”

  “Stop that! I don’t see any of those things. You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I thought so the first time I laid eyes on you. You have the perfect woman’s body. I love your curves.”

  “That’s your opinion,” she scoffed.

  “As your Master, I’m the only one who counts. I don’t care what anyone else thinks. You’re mine, Emily, and, to me, you’re perfect. I can’t wait to explore and taste every inch of you.”

  Emily shivered at the prospect of Tom’s hands and mouth exploring every inch of her. He embraced her. And she relaxed, going liquid at his sweet touch.

  “Come on, honey, we’re not done, yet.” He stood and took her hand. “Get back into your position. Right here.” He resumed his seat in the big leather chair.

  She stood in front of him. At least, this time, he allowed her to keep some clothes on. For now, she was down to a denim work shirt and her panties.

  “Will you enlighten me as to why you found it necessary to be a cock tease all night? For someone who doesn’t like public displays, you have no problem creating one. Speak. Now.”

  Emily couldn’t begin to explain why she’d done it. It was fun, and she’d loved seeing him blush at her erotically suggestive behavior.

  “Emily, you’re really pissing me off. I want an answer.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Wrong answer. Try again.”

  “I-I don’t know!”

  “Do you do this crap with every man you meet, or am I just lucky? I’d really hate to believe my little girl is a slut, unless, of course, she’s my slut.”

  “I’m not a slut!”

  “There’s a difference between being a slut and being my slut. Now do you do this with every man you meet?”

  “No. ” She added a sarcastic, “Sir.”

  If Tom Ryan thought for one second she would hand him what he wanted, he had another think coming. She didn’t give a fuck how charming he could be with his cute shyness. She would make him earn every inch of ground he gained.

  “So I’m just lucky? I see.” He gazed off into the distance as she defiantly stared at him. “Well, my little one, I plan on making you carry out every nasty thought you put in my head. Starting with the first one you suggested—get on your knees.”

  Emily was itching for a fight. The defiance that sparked in her eyes and her clenched fists expressed loud and clear that she wouldn’t make this easy for him. The challenge of training this beautiful creature awoke a powerful desire he’d never experienced.

  Tom had never talked to any woman the way he spoke to her. But it felt natural and right. With her, there was none of the tension he’d experienced with other women he’d tried to date. He and Emily understood he was Master. He suppressed a grin, fighting not to let his guard drop as he watched her sexy body quiver in anger. He prepared himself, not putting it past her to try and strike back with a slap. As much as it broke his heart to see her cry, he still needed to maintain the tone of their relationship. She didn’t move. Much like when he’d addressed his troops, when he gave an order, he expected it obeyed instantly. He didn’t tell people what to do to hear himself talk; he had a reason for every directive he issued.

  “When I say move, you fucking move! On your fucking knees, now!”

  Emily maintained angry eye contact with at him as she sank to the floor. There was a rebellion coming, and he prepared to crush said rebellion in ways which would leave her breathless. When he reached forward and cupped her chin, her shoulders sank and her face softened.

  “Do you enjoy making me so uncomfortable?”

  “A little.”

  Tom’s chest tightened with suppressed laughter. Thank God his training had given him the experience to keep a straight face in situations like this. It had been helpful when his children had come up with some crazy excuse for bad behavior. This was in the same vein, but with better results.

  “You were a bad girl tonight, Emily. Not only are you going to do something about my hard cock, I’m spa
nking you for what you did.”

  Her eyes widened and hazed. Lucian was right; she had a little masochistic streak in her. He had warned Tom to take it easy the first time to pay attention to her body and notice when it tensed or relaxed, to employ patience in finding her tolerance. He’d also warned Tom to expect a fight. Her lovely face turned defiant once more.

  “I’m not a child!”

  Tom cupped her chin again, and she shivered. He loved how simply touching her with affection and gentleness made her still and calm. “No, God love you, baby, you’re all woman. But you need to be taught I’m not your plaything, and you will not try to humiliate me for kicks.”

  She started to speak and then snapped her mouth shut when he dropped his head and drilled her with his don’t fuck with me look.

  “Now, we can do this the easy way, or we can do this the hard way. The easy way is you pull down those sexy panties, lie over my lap, and take your punishment like a woman. The hard way is, I tie you down and paddle that sweet ass of yours until you can’t sit. Which is it?”

  “Okay, I promise I’ll behave. I’ll consider this my warning,” She rubbed his knee, gazing up at him with wide-eyed innocence.

  Tom couldn’t hold back any longer; he released a deep belly laugh. She was so damned adorable! He almost let her slide. But the idea of spanking her sweet ass was overwhelming and intensely erotic. He looked forward to playing with her over and over again.

  “This isn’t Let’s Make a Deal. This is, get over my lap or get tied down. I’m spanking you.”

  “Tom, you can’t be serious.”

  “I’m dead fucking series. Now you have three seconds to make a decision…three.”

  “What happened to one and two?”

  He started to rise.

  “Okay! Over your lap!”

  “Why was that so damn hard? Now it’s extra swats for stalling.” Tom took his jacket off. “Go hang this up and pick up the paddle from the bed on your way back.”

  Emily stood and did as instructed. She passed Tom the finely crafted maple paddle and pulled down her panties. When he reached for them, she paled, but she didn’t argue, just handed them over. He closed his fingers around the soaked fabric and watched a blush color her cheeks. It’s about damn time you blushed a little, too, honey. He held the thin paddle up and patted his knee. The instrument wasn’t intended for heavy play. She whimpered as he rolled her shirt up over the small of her back and secured her legs between his thighs, leaving her face down and ass up. He ran his fingers over her smooth skin, fascinated at how perfect she was and at how he would make her all his. This was a power trip like no other, and he understood the allure of this lifestyle.

  “Tell me why you’re being spanked.”

  “I was bad,” Emily murmured.

  “How were you bad?”

  “I was a cock teasing slut and I embarrassed my Master tonight in front of his client.”

  Tom arched an eyebrow. She’d thrown him a curve ball. God must love him after all. He’d filled his empty life with Emily. His cock surged as his brain went into overload. He never expected to hear those words from her. She was in for the ride of her life tonight. He had to get a grip. He closed his eyes, inhaled, and willed himself to concentrate.

  “And why are you making me give you extra swats?”

  “Because this cock teasing slut didn’t answer her Master when asked a question.”

  “That’s right. Will you be making that mistake again?”

  “No.”

  He knew a lie when he heard one. She’d do it in a heartbeat. Her quivering body told him she thrived on this sort of play. After his discussion with Lucian, it shed light on her behavior, and it was all so carefully crafted, whether it had been intentional or not he couldn’t say. All night he believed she’d chosen her words to make him crazy with the image of a sexy woman teasing him and rendering him helpless to do anything but take it. He could bet with a fair amount of certainty, she’d selected the statement of her offenses carefully to enflame him further. She’d even let Sir slip from her answer. Now he had to spank her. He smacked her ass, and Emily shrieked.

  “No, is that how you answer me?”

  “No, Master, no, Sir!”

  “I can see we have a lot of work to do. You need some serious discipline in your life.”

  “Master, please. I promise I won’t do it again.”

  Tom let out an evil chuckle, “Such a disobedient slave. You’ll do it again. I’m betting on it. You’ll just try to be more creative. Now count!”

  Chapter Four

  Emily tensed when Tom landed the blows in succession. She’d been wet the moment he entered the room and now was smoldering. With every swing he took, she grew hotter. He marked her ass in random, unpredictable patterns with the paddle. It stung, but he wasn’t hurting her. Emily started to drift to another dimension as her pussy absorbed the vibration. A gentle hum from the spanking teased her clit. Her brain short circuited. If he smacked her again, she’d come the second he connected.

  “Pay attention. If I have to count, I’m starting over.” he ordered with a harder correction swat.

  “Nine!”

  “I don’t fucking think so. Try again.” He demanded correcting her again.

  Fuck. I’ve lost count. “Six!” She flexed her inner thighs, trying to control her impending orgasm.

  “That’s still wrong, but it’ll work.”

  “Seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven…. Tom!” She started to shake uncontrollably.

  Emily dug her nails into the back of his leg through the raw silk trousers. She couldn’t hold back any longer against the tidal wave slamming through her. She was out of her mind. Never had she experienced something so powerful. Every fiber in her body snapped with sexual tension and release. Tom instinctively knew how to play her and what kind of mind-fuck she needed. She wantonly humped her hips while her pussy clenched and flexed. She screamed to be filled. He delivered exactly what she craved, reaching between her legs to shove two thick fingers into her, slamming her headlong into a second orgasm. She squeezed her thighs around his hand and milked his fingers with her pussy. Her senses were electrified and in overload.

  Emily shuddered violently and fought for air as her tensing muscles slowed their spasms. Her screams eased into moans and whimpers when she descended from her high. She was dizzy, disoriented, and covered in a thin layer of sweat. Slumped in exhaustion, she realized Tom had stopped and was softly rubbing her back.

  “That’s enough for now, Emie.” he murmured, helping her upright.

  Tom cradled Emily in his lap and soothed her back to a normal breathing rhythm. Somewhere in her intoxicated mind, she registered how easily he lifted her and carried her to the bed. He set her down and, she drifted out of consciousness.

  When she woke, she blinked and focused to see him sitting in the leather chair, flipping through her sketchbook. She snuggled into the blanket he must have taken the time to pull over her.

  “You’re very talented, Emie,” he said without looking up. “And not all your art is erotic, some of it is very classical. I especially like your concept of Mother with Children and Working Man.” While she slumbered, he’d taken off his tie off and rolled his sleeves up making him seem relaxed.

  Emily held her arms out. “Come here. Please.”

  Tom closed the sketchbook and put it back on the table next to the chair. He walked to the bed and sat beside her, bending to place a kiss on her lips. She became acutely aware of her response to his touch. The low humming in every nerve started again.

  “Are you rested, honey?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said, taking his hands.

  “Would you like some water? I went downstairs and found some while you were sleeping.”

  Emily propped herself against the ornate iron and wood headboard, losing some of her grogginess. The events that made her sleep so soundly flashed back into her memory. She glanced at him nervously. He dropped his head and his expression became fi
rm; she was taking too long with her answer.

  “Water would great. Thank you.”

  He picked up a tray near the door and brought it closer to the bed. An assortment of small meals and snacks met her surprised gaze. He opened the bottled water and handed it to her.

  “Are you hungry?”

  “Yes, I am,” she said, taking a drink.

  “What would you like, honey?” He gestured to the platter.

  “Some fruit.” He handed her the small bowl of fruit salad. “I didn’t eat before the show because I was so busy.”

  “That’s not good, baby. You need to eat something. I want you healthy.”

  “Don’t worry, I’m no twig. I can miss a few meals,” she quipped.

  “Emily, I don’t know what happened to make you think you’re heavy and unattractive but I don’t like hearing you put yourself down. I meant what I said. I think you’re absolutely stunning, and there is nothing I would change about you. The bad image you have of yourself bothers me. We need to work through this.”

  She put down the small treat she was enjoying. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “It matters to me because it’s serious. Emily, my daughter was treated for anorexia for most of her teen years and into college. Thankfully, she’s gotten over the hump and has a great fiancé but she still struggles with it. This body image crap bothers me because I’ve seen how destructive it can be. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

  Emily’s eyes stung with unshed tears. She couldn’t imagine the hurt Tom had suffered in his lifetime. First his daughter and then his wife, not to mention the horrors of combat he had to have seen during his tours. She wrapped her arms around him yearning to take away all the pain and misery he’d endured. Her mother had always told her every family has their cross to bear, but she couldn’t understand how Tom managed to even get through the day right now. She suddenly understood why it had taken so long for him to emerge from grief and loneliness. He didn’t need to deal with her bullshit baggage. Emily felt something shift in her. If he said she was beautiful then she had to learn to trust and see herself through his eyes. She cupped his face and kissed him tenderly.