The Billionaire’s Past (His Submissive #10)(15)
Author: Ava Claire

I felt a flash of rebellion at his flagrant disregard at my attempt to show how badly I wanted him. Take it easy? With him standing there, watching me strip with that heat in his eyes? My own darted to his crotch and it did nothing but make me more impatient. His erection made the throb turn into an overpowering ache. I could make out every thickened inch, wrapping around his thigh, piercing the tailored seams.

I looked up from the yummy bulge, hoping a stern look from him would calm me down, but there was no such luck. The cool mask of my dominant was cracked. His lips were parted, trembling ever so slightly. Blue eyes watched me intently, like he was daring me to mouth off. Hoping for it.

I didn’t disappoint.

I hitched a breath, feigning shock as I yanked the strap down, heart thumping when I heard the static sound as the material ripped and my breast sprung free. I glared at him disobediently, taking in the hard set of his jaw before I pointedly dropped my eyes to his erection.

I bit my lips. “Oops.”

I’d been so sure directly disobeying him would have provoked him. He would come closer, knot his fingers in my hair and order me to flip over so he could show me what happened when I forgot my place. It’s what had me watching every line of his face, practically chanting silently for them to tighten. Looking into the eyes that pierced, waiting for them to blaze. But he just stood there, face blank. No, not blank–unimpressed. Bored.

And I’d just ripped my brand new chemise.

He was definitely playing hard to get. Usually my punishment was immediate. I’d already be pressed into the cushion. Strapping me down would be irrelevant because I wouldn’t be going anywhere. My whole body would be taut, heart beating in my ears as I waited for the whistle as his hand cut through the air and collided with my ass.

But right now, I was still upright. Butt in the wrong direction. Not breathing through the strikes as pain met molten pleasure. Right now all I felt was frustration.

I had no need of stony faced Jacob, watching me intently when it was clear I was in need of some hard loving. Maybe it wasn’t clear…so I jerked the other side down, the material slinking to my waist. Both br**sts exposed, chest heaving as I glared at him defiantly.

Spank me. Punish me. Just take me. "What are you waiting for?"

His cool eyes dropped to his cuff and he slowly rolled up his sleeves. "This little display was endearing at first. You know how I love it when you beg. Usually, I’m so caught up in you I let your obvious attempts at lording your will over me slide." He leaned in and I closed my eyes, giddy at the thought of him punishing me, but he reached beside me, tugging at one of the hooks on the bench.

"This bench is a sign of a lifestyle. One where a submissive gives control, her being, over to her lover. Her Dominant." His eyes narrowed. "How have you given yourself over to me? All I see is a petulant child trying to provoke me. It is a waste, Leila. You know how this ends, with you on your stomach, ass in the air. Why force my hand?" He gave me a wilting look when I remained quiet. "Now you choose to listen? Answer my question."

Because the patience is a virtue stuff is BS. I censored my answer. "I just want you, Jacob."

"And I want your submission." He brought his index finger to his chin, tapping it lightly as he thought something over. "Perhaps I should send you downstairs to check the mail as you are. Go for a drive with you wearing nothing at all beside me."

Heat tingled in my cheeks at the thought of being na**d in public. Being seen. "Jacob…"

"You’ve forgotten what submission is," he cut in smoothly. "It’s more than rough sex, Leila. More than being tied up and tied down. It’s pushing limits. Exploring your sexuality." He snapped his fingers. "Get up."

I snapped to my feet, not sure what to expect. I definitely wasn’t expecting him to step around me and pick up the bench and walk toward the…

Oh my god.

He was taking it outside to the patio.

Memories of touching myself on the wicker chair, my nerves, and the way it felt to release my inhibitions rocked me. Touching myself was one thing, but Jacob spanking me out there? I was rooted firmly in place, the old, familiar pangs of apprehension back.

He stepped back through the French doors, wearing an evil smile. “What’s the problem? I thought you couldn’t wait to try out the spanking bench?” The smile hardened. “Isn’t that why you disobeyed me?”

I bit my lip, keeping my retort to myself. He knew better than anyone how self-conscious I got when I thought anyone was watching.

That’s the whole point, Lay. Pushing your limits. Jacob taking charge instead of the other way around.

It didn’t help psych me up for what he wanted to do out there.

I took a few steps forward, bringing my working strap back up, using my other hand to cover my other breast. “I shouldn’t have provoked you. I just really want you. Wanted this.”

He leaned against the doorway, his steely eyes telling me it was too little, too late. “And I want you. I plan on spanking you, Leila. Right out there.”

My throat tightened. It was dinnertime and it was perfect windows open weather. There were probably even people out on their patios. Before, I worried we might be heard. There was no longer a maybe. We would be heard.

Section Nine

I breathed in and out and moved forward. My body was already on board. I just had to get my head to catch up.

He was watching my movements, passion flickering in his eyes as I came closer. He shifted to the side, stopping me from stepping outside. His eyes glittered down at me, heat radiating from him.

He cupped the sides of my face. "Take off the dress."

I kept my eyes on him, letting go of my hold on the material. Watching him drink it up as I pulled it over my h*ps and let it fall the rest of the way. His eyes worked over the contours of my body and the only thing that kept me from gripping him or doing some physical version of ‘now what?’ was the fact that I saw he was fighting to keep himself from touching me. From taking me right on the spot.

He stepped to the side and I slid past, willing myself to look at the spanking bench and not the building on the other side of the bustling street.

I concentrated on everything else. How the breeze stroked my na**d body, delicious against my alert nerves. The sounds of the city instead of my heart roaring in my ears. The smell of the air. Of Jacob coming up behind me. Of his fingers tracing my spine.

"I wish you could see how beautiful you look, Leila." His voice was so low, stroking me as gently as his fingers. "Have you tried out the bench?”