Charm. Flora Dain

mine as the low, burning arousal that’s eaten into both of us for the last thirty minutes flares into white heat. I press up close and his tongue makes deep, angry surges into my mouth like it’s shouting without words.

      When he pulls away I’m panting too like I’m running a race and I’ve a long way to go. I bite my lip to fight back the urge to laugh from sheer joy. ‘What kind of lesson?’

      * * *

      Half a minute later I’m staring at him in blank disbelief. ‘You’re going to what?’

      His eyes are gleaming. A slow, sinister smile twists the ends of his long mouth. ‘You heard.’

      ‘I can’t believe I’m hearing this.’ It should be a joke. But something about his stillness and the heat in his look tells me he’s serious.

      He wants to spank me? What’s going on here?

      And all at once I’m burning up, seeing myself sprawled over his knee, at his mercy, his hands working overtime … I’m a grown-up person. At least I thought I was. But the very thought of him doing something so ridiculously humiliating is turning me to jelly, making me throb with excitement, making me wet. ‘Now?’ My voice has shrunk to a squeak.

      His voice drops to a purr. ‘In a while. We have some matters to see to first. First off, you’ll stay close to me until we’re both satisfied your boyfriend’s no longer a threat. Agreed?’

      My eyes widen. ‘If he is a threat. I’ve only got your word for that.’

      His jaw tightens. ‘Whatever. We track him together. Promise me.’

      I swallow, partly from fear, partly from excitement. ‘And staying with you involves what, precisely?’

      His eyes flash. ‘What do you think it involves, Ella? You started this. I just want to finish it, one way or another. Are you scared to go on? Say so and we’ll split. I’ll assign you a bodyguard.’

      I lick my lips. He’s asking me to take a massive step – but at the same time he’s just made a massive admission.

      He wants me. And he wants to try things with me, starting now. With a spanking.

      And all at once I know I want this too. I’ve never wanted anything so much in all my life. ‘We’ll go on.’

      His face remains grave, but somewhere behind his eyes I sense new heat, like a fire long suppressed that’s just flared into life.

      ‘Very well.’

      ‘What do you want me to do?’ I stand very still as he runs a finger down the line of my throat and over the swell of my breast, where my skimpy top makes it bulge.

      ‘Stay close. Simply that. We’ll travel together, we’ll share rooms, and we’ll tolerate each other as best we can. It’s only for a few days. He’s round here somewhere. He can’t get far.’

      Flames spurt deep in my groin as he runs his finger inside the waistband of my shorts, making the skin ripple over my belly. ‘And what if it takes longer?’

      He unfastens my shorts and pushes them down a little way and slips both hands inside, his fingers probing deep between my legs and under the lacy trim of my panties. I close my eyes and moan as his thumbs graze the twin slopes of my apex, where the folds are already swelling and super-sensitive. He lingers, sensing my need, his touch so intrusive and insistent I start to throb, parting my lips and closing my eyes, telling him that I want this even more than he does.

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

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

       CHAPTER SIX

      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