Tempting Tricks (Tempting Nights #2)

Chapter Seven

~Annabelle~

O h my god . I can’t believe Patrick Connors, my patient, just took my damn boots off and is kneeling at my feet. I know without a doubt this is wrong. On so many levels. But I can’t deny how much I want him, and how much I want him to do this to me. Every single nerve in my body is tingling with desire, a feeling so foreign to me and one I didn’t realize I was craving. Until now. Until he brought me into this room and I saw what could be delivered here.

I shiver as his fingers skim down my leg, even though I feel like my blood is boiling beneath my skin. My eyes lock onto his as he lowers my foot, a darkness I haven’t seen before staring back at me. He squints as he continues to gaze at me, the hand around my foot squeezing tightly. Before I can react, he releases his grip and stands, his features hardening as he looms over me. His hand darts out and latches onto my wrist, pulling to lift me off the bed until I’m standing next to him.

He releases his hold on my wrist and places a finger under my chin, raising it until I’m looking straight at him. He analyzes me for what seems like an eternity then finally speaks, his tone gruffer than before. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

“Yes.” I don’t even hesitate in my response.

“Then let’s get started.” He releases the hold on my chin. “We only get thirty minutes to provide a demonstration to someone who isn’t a member of the club.”

“Oh.” I frown, not entirely sure why this time limit bothers me. “Okay.”

He chuckles, one side of his mouth quirking up as if he can read my mind. “It’s enough time, don’t worry.” Then he moves to sit on the bed. “Come.”

He extends his hand, and I place mine within. His fingers tighten around mine right before he yanks my body toward his, pushing me down over his lap in one quick motion. A small yelp falls from my lips when my chest meets his thighs, my free hand flying to my head to insure my wig stays in place.

“Give me your hand.” His voice is low, but the tone is commanding and one I know instinctively not to challenge. I immediately release the hold I have on my hair, thankful the wig stayed firmly in place, and hold it out in front of me. He takes my other hand and joins them together, stretching them out in front of me, placing them on the bed. “Leave them there. Understand?”

I nod, speaking quickly, my breathing matching my erratic pulse. “Okay.” I hear the slap before I feel it, just a slight stinging, but my whole body convulses at the shock.

“You’ll answer yes sir or no sir from now on.” I feel his chest press against my back as his lips brush against my ear, hot breath drowning out any other sounds. “Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” I rush out.

“Good girl.” He lays his palm slowly against the area on my bum he just slapped and caresses it, a hum vibrating from his chest. “I think these need to go.” His fingers glide higher to the waist band of my panties and begin bunching the material before pulling them down, exposing my entire backside.

I twist my head to look at him, my body lifting at the same time, but still when I see the expression on his face. His hand flattens on my lower back, pushing my waist back into his lap. “Are you quitting already?” He cocks his head. “Just use your safe word and I’ll let you up.”

I release the grip my teeth have on my lower lip to reply huskily, “No, sir.”

His lips curve up into a tight smile as he nods. “I’m going to spank you six times. Count, or I’ll add more.”

“Okay,” I gasp out.

His brows rise as his smile grows wider, and I realize my mistake too late as I feel his hand smack against my tender flesh.

“Ow!” My heels kick up at the contact. “I mean, yes, sir!”

“Count,” he growls out.

“One!” I spit out.

“That’s better.” He places his hand over the spot throbbing on my ass and begins rubbing it in a small circle, lessening the pain pulsing against my skin, shifting and spreading it thin. He does this for only a minute before lifting his hand and bringing it down again, this time on the other side of my ass but just as hard.

“Two,” I squeak out between clenched teeth. So far, this just hurts. I don’t understand how it’s supposed to feel good. But then, he begins the soft, circular motion with his hand again, the heat moving lower, igniting a tingling sensation between my legs. I squirm, trying to tighten my legs in an effort to quell the feeling.

He chuckles, his weight on my back, lips tickling the edge of my earlobe again. “You like it.”

I’m not sure why, but shame floods through me as I answer hoarsely. “Yes, sir.”

He groans and I feel his length jerk, hard and thick against my side. Before I can react, his hand comes down again, a little harder, a little lower, hitting me evenly across both cheeks. A low moan leaves my mouth, my pelvis thrusting against his leg, before I manage to say three. The massaging, even lower this time, only fuels the heat building in my core.

His hand lifts again, but this time, he slaps me twice in a row, once on each side of my buttocks, hard and fast. I’m so surprised, I almost forget to count, but spit out, “Four! Five!” before he can punish me further. His fingers brush over my skin, so sensitive now, his light touch causing the flesh across my body to erupt in goosebumps. My hands clench the bed covering, the material balled in my fingers, in an effort to try to keep my body still as I feel my pussy contract and flood with heat. I want to sit up and straddle him, push myself up and down on his cock until I come.

His fingers skim so low, almost brushing against my swollen lips, and my ass pushes back, inviting him to please, please go lower. I feel his body vibrate again, and I almost rise up to confront him but stop when he begins to speak in a hushed voice. “Do you know why they say this feels so good to some people? Why getting spanked, or giving yourself totally over to someone else is so pleasurable?”

I’m a doctor of psychiatry. I’m not stupid by any means, and I obviously understand that, for some, pain equals pleasure. But it isn’t something I have ever entertained or thought about until recently. I don’t need pain to feel good. Or do I? “I don’t know,” I murmur, my emotions speaking instead of my brain.

His lips graze against my ear again. “You mean, no, sir?” His hand stills on my ass, and I flinch, waiting for another blow. Instead, he runs his nose against my cheek and pulls back. “It’s about the control.”

“What?” My brow wrinkles as I turn to look at him.

“People who live their lives in complete control, or in control of others. In coming here, they can give that up, let someone else have all that, all the decisions, all the power, for just a little while. It’s a relief. A weight lifted.”

I think about what he’s said and am about to respond when he continues. “Is that your problem, Belle?” His hand is back on my ass, caressing it again, but all I notice is how sharply he enunciated my name, almost in anger. “Do you have too much control in your life?”

“I don’t—” I start to defend myself but am silenced when his hand strikes me a final time, this time so low he brushes the very edge of my pussy. “Six!” I mewl out as his hand immediately begins rubbing my ass in a slow, circular motion, my grip on the covers deadly. I can’t stop myself when I raise my hips and press my ass more firmly against his hand. I want more. The stinging sensation has traveled straight to my pussy, causing it to throb with need.

“Let’s see, shall we, Belle?” My name is punctuated again as he speaks roughly. “Let’s see if this answered your question.” He slides his hand between my ass cheeks and follows it all the way down until his fingers skim against my pussy. He groans out loud when he drags them harder against my opening, this time pushing two fingers inside of me, my wet core pulsing tightly around him. “Did you find pleasure in the pain?”

“Yes,” I admit and shove myself against his hand, whimpering in relief as I feel myself grip onto him, any shame I felt overridden by desire. Before I can surge myself even further, he pulls his hand free from between my legs and moves to shift me off his lap in one fell swoop.

I cry out, my hands clutching for the surface of the bed as I try to regain my balance. He stands and glares down at me. I look up at him, wide-eyed and confused. “What’s wrong? What did I do wrong?”

He looms over me, his eyes dark, his mouth in a firm line, his hands fisted at his sides. I stand, my fingers finding the hem of my negligee, pulling it lower in an attempt to cover more of myself than possible with the short material. I repeat my question when he doesn’t answer me. “Did I do something wrong?”

He blows out a breath as he crosses his arms, hands still clenched, and looks up at the ceiling then shakes his head. “No.”

I bend down while he’s looking away and snake my panties off the floor to slide them back on. When I complete my task, I look up to find him staring at me again. “Then why do you seem angry at me?”

“I’m not.” He uncrosses his arms and points to a door. “That’s a bathroom. You can clean up or do whatever you need to do in there. There’s ibuprofen for the pain.”

“Okay,” I say cautiously and look in the direction he pointed. “Is that all?”

He shrugs dismissively. “It’s a demonstration. You had a question, and I’m pretty sure I answered it for you.”

I cock my head and look at him, my mouth hanging open slightly as I try to figure out how things went from really hot to really cold. But then, this is Patrick Connors I’m dealing with. Emotions aren’t something he deals with on a regular basis, so why should I expect them here in a sex club? “So, that’s it? We’re done?”

He nods. “If you’re interested in joining the club, they have a thirty-day trial membership you can purchase when you leave.”

I blink rapidly, trying to keep my stupid emotions in check, and nod once. “Well, all right then.” I bend down to retrieve one of my boots and thrust my foot angrily into it, then look up at him. “I guess we are done.”

His gaze drifts down my body then trails back up to lock onto my eyes before he finally speaks again, desire in his voice. “I’m here almost every weeknight if you want to see me again.”

I scoff, shoving my other foot into my boot, then stand abruptly, no longer intimidated by him. “You’re serious?”

“You’re angry.” He reaches out and takes each of my forearms in a light grip, stepping closer to me, drawing our bodies flush. He latches his gaze onto mine, lowering his head until his lips brush lightly against my open mouth. “Don’t be,” he whispers as he leans even closer, my eyes closing as a new wave of longing sweeps over me. “I’d love to explore more of you, see what else your body craves.” He sweeps another soft kiss against my lips, on my cheek, and then against the base of my ear. His breath is hot as he exhales and then whispers, “But time’s up.”

My eyes snap open at his words, but all I see is his back as he strolls out of the room, a low chuckle left in his wake as the door closes. Holy shit, please tell me that was a coincidence.