Flora Dain - Charm

I hear his voice lower to a growl, a sure sign he’s noticed.

‘Then it takes longer. Enough questions. Time for your bath.’

A bath? I accept meekly. Nothing surprises me any more. I’ve agreed to his terms. I’ll go with it for now.

I’ll yell later.

He strolls into the bathroom, starts the taps, tips in various things from bottles, strolls back and inspects our lunch trolley.

I’m too excited to eat but the array of canapés, sandwiches, fruit and drinks looks tasty. Maybe I’ll try some.

Soon he closes off the taps and the suite fills with the warm, moist aroma of the bathwater but he’s in no hurry for me to get in. ‘Eat something. You’ve had a shock.’

He sinks onto the sofa and pats the seat beside him. As I take my place on the cushion next to his I can only think of the ordeal I face.

He’s going to spank me. When? Should I have refused this? How much will it hurt?

He’s surprisingly calm about it. In some mysterious way this makes it even more exciting. As he passes me dainties from the trolley and cracks open a couple of beers our fingers touch, our eyes meet and a smile plays at the corners of his mouth.

I feel colour rising in my cheeks. To distract myself I focus on the reason we came here – my ex. ‘Did you ever meet Ryan? Or is he too far down the pecking order?’

‘I watched him at interview once. Seemed pleasant enough. Struck me as a lightweight. But his work was good, they tell me. Innovative.’

I take a swig of my beer and gasp at its icy cold. His eyes dwell on my throat as I tilt the can. They burn into mine as I lower it.

‘Do that again.’ His voice is barely a murmur.

I feel a tremor run through me as our lunch turns into foreplay. Slowly I raise the can and sip again. ‘Hold it right there.’ I tilt the can down a little so it won’t spill and hold my breath as his fingers run lightly over the skin of my taut throat and then fold around my neck.

Throats are vulnerable, private. Especially so at this angle – and when you react to someone’s touch as violently as I do. I feel myself shudder.

‘What’s the matter, Ella? Are you scared of me?’

I lower the can and look him full in the face. ‘Sometimes.’

He tilts an eyebrow, his smile brief. ‘Only sometimes?’

‘Not when I’m angry.’

‘I noticed. Have you finished eating?’

I nod.

‘Drink your beer.’ His voice is soft, his expression grave.

Heat flares.

He pushes the trolley away, holds out his hand and raises me to my feet. ‘Come. Bath time.’

* * *

In the bathroom I stand in silence, arms outstretched, legs apart, as he slowly undresses me. I feel like a doll. When I try to speak he frowns and touches a finger to my lips. ‘Quiet. We’ll talk later. Let me do this.’

He inspects me as he removes my clothes, first my skimpy top, then the shorts he’s already unfastened. He lets them pool on the floor and then kicks them away impatiently. I resist the urge to pick them up, fold them and put them somewhere they won’t get wet.

He signals me to raise my arms high and then to turn for him, slowly. He takes in every angle of me as I circle. I try not to flinch as he scoops my breasts out of my bra and rests them on the cups, making them bulge a little, and then pulls my panties down so the lacy trim rests just below my hips. He runs his hands repeatedly down my sides, lingering in the dip of my waist and feeling my ribcage with his thumbs. His touch is making me burn. I’m nervous, wondering what he’s going to do.

‘Reach up and hold onto the towel ring on the tiles over your head.’ His voice is remote, its note of command edged with steel.

Warily I reach up and grasp it, feeling instantly exposed as my breasts thrust up towards his face. He smiles and stoops to fasten his mouth on my left breast. I jerk to attention as he sucks at me, his eager tongue swirling round my aureole, his teeth grazing my pebble-hard nipple with tiny nips that both scare and inflame me.

After a while he transfers to the other breast and I jerk again. This breast knows what’s coming so my nipple is that much harder, the burning feeling that much hotter. I moan aloud and writhe in his embrace.

His lips loosen around his generous mouthful of breast. I whimper as his fingers squeeze my other nipple and pinch hard, sending flames shooting all through my groin.

‘Quiet. And keep still or I’ll have to restrain you.’

‘Do I get a say in this?’

He leans up, his gaze hard. ‘Soon. Be quiet and keep still. Or you’ll be sorry.’

I arch an eyebrow, playful now. ‘Oh? How?’

He stands upright and folds his hands round both of my breasts, his grasp gentle, warm and deeply arousing. In his grip they feel enormous, resilient, like his touch alone is making them swell. My nipples tense instantly, the ache squeezing my aureoles tight around them, making them stiffen and grow numb.

‘ How? Well, your spanking might be harsher and last longer than it would have just now, let’s say.’

Deep between my legs something begins to throb. It was pulsing before, but now it’s positively painful. He’s not playing. Something about his manner tells me that for him this is deadly serious and I’ve just agreed to it and accepted his terms, whatever they are …

Ye gods …

‘Are you going to hurt me?’ I try to sound calm. I must know the worst.

He looks interested. ‘Not if I can help it. Why? Do you want me to?’

I stare. ‘Absolutely not. But I’m new to this. I don’t know what’s involved.’

He frowns like he’s puzzled and draws me into his arms. ‘Hey, you’re shivering. Just trust me. Can you do that?’

I swallow. This is all so unexpected. In reply I simply kiss him on the jaw.

He frowns down at me, troubled. ‘Do I take that as a yes?’

‘It’s just …’ I tail off as I search for words.

‘Hey. Your bath’s getting cold.’

I grin. ‘In Texas? In summer? It’s just this. If you’re doing this because you like it then fine, I’ll try it. But if this is some kind of punishment then you can forget it. I’m not accountable to you.’

He touches his lips to mine, his gaze stern. ‘You’re setting terms ?’

I hold his gaze. ‘Yes. I guess I am. Isn’t that what’s supposed to happen?’

He raises my hand to his lips and kisses my fingers. It’s just a light brush of his lips across my knuckles but I sense a climb-down.

‘Fair enough. Let’s just say I like it. We’ll take it slow.’ He kisses me on the mouth, his tongue urgent and hungry, and pulls away with an effort. I can sense his excitement. I can even feel his heartbeat. I’m curious. Why does he find this so moving?

‘Now the bath. And no more talking. I’ll tell you when. Strip.’

Slowly I take off my bra and then my lace-edged panties and toss them through the door into the dry safety of the other room. At his stern look I step into the bath. I sink gratefully into the water and he stands over me, peeling away his own clothes as I drink in the view – first his sturdy chest and shoulders, his narrow waist, and the light coating of dark hair that clusters where it matters and thins where it should, snaking a trail past his navel.

Where it reaches appears next as he unfastens his trousers and kicks them away, and finally removes his boxers.

I gasp as his stiffening erection looms into view, plump and swollen, its thick curve echoing the swollen, tight feeling down between my legs where I’ve been pulsing steadily since we walked in here. He holds my eyes calmly. The arrogant flare to his nostrils tells me he enjoys my steady gaze and feels no need to hurry.