The ribbon is still tied around my wrists, but I can feel that the knot is slightly loosened due to my renewed yanking. I place my hands back above my head, breathing heavily as I am still coping with the pain from the surprise slap. Slowly but steadily, the pulsating ache is turning into the warm afterglow I have come to appreciate too much.

  His tongue is back between my legs, spoiling me endlessly as he continues to taste me. I groan with lust – and silently wish for more. More of him. More pain even.

  As if he could read my mind, his other hand flies across my left breast. The pain is immense, especially since he did a better job at hitting my nipple this time. But despite the teary eyes and the anguished cry with which I greet his gesture, I somehow manage to control my arms and leave them where they ought to be.

  The painful slaps did cut into my delicious vertigo and caused me to widen my eyes with inconvenient clarity.

  But just for a split second.

  I sigh and moan as I relish the sweet afterglow that adds to my pleasure.

  I give up. If he wants me to come, I will. Right now.

  "I'm gonna c –" I utter but never finish the sentence.

  His timing is perfect. Just as the first few waves of my orgasm take a hold of me, he adds another two slaps. One on each side – and without letting his tongue rest.

  I explode beneath him, helplessly squirming and moaning as my climax takes over and obscures the world around me.

  CHAPTER XXIV

  Nicky

  "Thank you."

  My voice is faint and hoarse. I am lying in his arms, reveling in the sweet post-orgasmic state.

  "We're not done, yet," he whispers. "I am just giving you a little rest."

  "My roommate will be home soon," I interject as I randomly remember Yuka.

  She is out meeting a friend, but I know she will come home before she heads out for work tonight.

  "Okay," he says. "We'll go somewhere else then."

  "A hotel," I presume.

  He shakes his head. "No."

  "Where then?" I ask.

  "You'll see," he replies. "Get dressed."

  He loosens his grip around me so I can get up. The ribbon is still in his hand. He has unfastened the knot right after my orgasm died down, so I could comfortably cuddle up in his arms.

  I climb out of bed and proceed to get dressed, watched intently by Evan, who is now sitting up on my bed and observing my every move again.

  "I love this," he comments.

  "What?" I ask as I am getting myself into my dress.

  "Your reactions," he explains. "The tiny signs of discomfort and nervousness when I look at you. The way you shield your eyes from me, hiding behind your beautiful hair."

  I look at him, dumbfounded.

  "The way your hands shake just a tiny little bit," he continues. "And you keep fixing things on yourself. Your clothes, your hair. You become so self-conscious and shy when my eyes are on you."

  I frown at him. But as I feel the urge to move my hand up to my hair to play with an especially wild lock that keeps blocking my view, I realize that he is right.

  "You're... creepy," I whisper.

  He laughs and gets up from the bed to zip up my dress at the back.

  "And you are incredibly cute, Nicky," he says. "Let's go."

  Of course, his driver is waiting for us downstairs. Evan still doesn't share with me where exactly we are going, and I decide not to ask. What’s the point? He didn't tell me before and he won’t tell me now.

  "So," he proceeds after we have been driving for a few minutes. "I am ready to talk about your homework now."

  I glance over to him and frown. How could he think of that now? Is it really that important? Essential to determining where this relationship is going?

  "I haven't done it yet," I admit. "My head was... elsewhere."

  "Is that so," he says, looking unhappy. "I am disappointed to hear that."

  "To be honest," I add, "I don't feel comfortable with it. I don't like you trying to interfere with my life like that. All these things are none of your business until –"

  "Yes, they are," he interrupts me. "I told you that it is important for me to take care of you – and to see you happy."

  I cast him a doubtful look. "It rather seems like you're trying to change me. To influence me. Just like parents or teachers would."

  "I can see why it feels like that," he admits. "But tell me one thing: Are you happy? Are you truly happy with how your life is going right now? Is this exactly what you want to be doing?"

  I hesitate. This is not the kind of conversation I want to have right now. But mostly, because it is uncomfortable.

  Because he is right.

  "I don't know what I want to do," I say. "It's not that easy for some people."

  He nods. "I know it's not. Let's find out together then."

  I look at him, unsure whether I am interpreting too much into his words. He returns my look with a sincere yet stern expression on his face.

  "I am in this for the long run," he says. "I know I might have suggested otherwise – with my words and my actions. But Nicky, you are too good and too close to my heart. I would be an idiot to let you go."

  I blush. "Oh."

  "Don't worry," he says, accompanied by a cheeky grin. "I am not going to kidnap and collar you right away. But I want to prove to you that I am serious about you. That you can trust me. Because I trust you."

  "How?" I ask.

  He smiles. "I'm glad you asked because we're here."

  The car stops just as he finishes his sentence. He doesn't wait for the driver to get out and open the door for us, but does it himself, offering me his hand to follow him.

  "Where are we?" I ask, standing next to him, looking up the high-rise building in front of us. At first, I believe it is another hotel, a fancy one. But a second glance at the entrance tells me that there is no reception, just a few glass doors behind which I can spot a bright and big hallway with marble floors.

  "Home," he simply says.

  He takes my hand and leads me inside, passing two security doors before we are inside in front of an elevator.

  "You live here?" I inquire.

  He smiles at me. "Yes, I do."

  I have no idea what part of the city we are in, as the blackened windows of the limo hardly give way to the outside. But the drive wasn't that long. Wherever we are, he cannot be living that far away from my own home.

  We take the elevator up to one of the highest floors. Evan has to enter another code for the elevator to even stop on that level, and when the door opens, there appears to be another door for which he has to use a card.

  It is a private elevator. We end up getting out in a little lobby that leads directly into a gigantic living room.

  He takes the lead and I follow him, trying not to gawk too much as I take in the beautiful space around me.

  I have always held the prejudice that rich people don't have any taste, but Evan is clearly not guilty of that. The place is not cluttered with expensive objects that are of no use but to show off. In fact, there are very few things around. The colors are rather reserved and well matched, and the living room suite actually looks comfortable and not too much of a designer piece to be actually used.

  "I have never brought anyone here," he says, standing behind me. "I know, you don't have to believe those words, but they are true. This is a place I have only shared with you."

  "Well," I say. "Not yet. I haven't seen much yet, have I?"

  "Little brat," he whispers, leering at me. "There is something else we need to do first."

  "What would that be?" I ask, looking up at him all innocent.

  He leers at me again, looking as handsome as ever.

  "Your punishment," he says. "For not doing your homework."

  Oh, right.

  "I am actually glad you didn't," he adds. "It gives me an opportunity to show you both in one day – sweetness and rigor."

  Once again, I am robbed of my ability to speak and just look up at him in anticipation.

  "Are you ready?" he asks.

  I nod. "Yes, Sir."

  "Take off your shoes," is his first order. "And your panties."

  My pulse accelerates. How have I ever enjoyed any man without this thrill of anticipation that even the tiniest order from him gives me?

  I do as I am bid and step out of my shoes. Taking off my thong while I am still fully clothed is strangely arousing.

  "Good girl," he assesses when I am done. "Now get on your knees. And follow me. On all fours."

  A little frown skirts across my face with that order. He notices and raises his eyebrow as a warning.

  "Yes, Sir," I hurry to reply and get down on my knees in front of him.

  "That better be the last hesitation I see from you today," he warns. "You're only making it worse for yourself. Now come."

  "Yes, Sir," I reply, crawling behind him as he starts walking to the left.

  "Keep your head low and your pretty ass up," he adds.

  "Yes, Sir," I murmur, unsure what to make of the way I am feeling.

  Body and mind are in the middle of their favorite fight. While my heart is racing with excitement and I can clearly feel my arousal building up between my legs, I cannot shake the thought of how humiliating this is. I would never want to be seen like this.

  By anyone but him, that is.

  We are slowly moving along a hallway. The floor beneath me changes and is now dark wood instead of lighter marble as it was in the lobby and the living room. It builds an odd contrast, and I would love to lift my head to see how everything else around me corresponds to the different texture beneath me.

  We enter a room to the left and Evan pauses, waiting for me to arrive behind him. I can feel his eyes on me and try my best to follow his wish, hollowing my back to lift my ass – and keeping my head low, even though it is extremely hard at this point.

  "Good girl," he praises. "You will not get up on your feet while we are in here, do you understand?"

  "Yes, Sir."

  "Sit on your knees and look up at me."

  I comply and manage to get a quick glance at the room we are in before our eyes lock onto each other. It's his bedroom. Or one of them. Judging by the size of this apartment, I wouldn't be surprised if he had several.

  He looks down at me for a moment, as if he was contemplating what to do next.

  "Oh fuck it," he finally whispers. "I was going to make you wait for it a little longer, but you are too much."

  I blush and smile when he starts fiddling at his pants to open them.

  He is hard. His impressive erection springs free as soon as he removes his pants and almost hits my forehead, which causes me to giggle.

  "Shut up," he hisses, and grabs me forcefully at the back of my head.

  He pushes me forward, forcing himself into my mouth without any warning. I gag as his tip pushes against the back of my throat, but he does not give me mercy. With brute and demanding thrusts, he shoves his entire erection in and out of me, literally fucking my face and growing harder between my lips as he does.

  I instinctively lift my hands for defense in an attempt to push him away.

  "No!" he snaps as he sees it. "Keep your hands down. Don't you dare push me away!"

  I can give nothing but a hoarse gag as a reply and try to swallow him in as much as I can while still gasping at least a little air.

  I start to get dizzy. The inability to breathe properly and the fast motions with which he forces his perfect cock into my mouth send me into sweet vertigo.

  Just as my eyes roll back into my head and I am beginning to feel that I can't take it anymore – he stops.

  I gasp for air while saliva drips down my chin and his cock, joined by tears of exhaustion.

  "On the bed," he orders. "And remember, don't get on your feet. I want you on all fours on the bed – with your ass facing me."

  "Yes, Sir," I wheeze, as I follow his order.

  As soon as I have positioned myself the way he wants me to, he lifts up my dress, exposing my naked wetness.

  "What a good slut you are for me," he assesses as his hand wanders between my legs.

  I moan and hollow my back while one of his fingers circles around my clit, sending vibes of intense sensation through my spine.

  I let out a sigh of disappointment when he removes his hand.

  "Remember," he says. "You are being punished. This one is for me, not you."

  Unbeknownst to him, a little smirk runs across my face as this is the sweetest kind of punishment I could imagine.

  But that smirk disappears when I hear the sound of his belt buckle.

  Oh no, this is going to hurt.

  The first slap hits me shortly after that realization. And damn, it does hurt!

  I flinch, but don't want to give him the satisfaction of crying out. Yet. That changes with the second blow, though. He is alternating sides, but this one hurt a lot more than the first and causes me to let out a little yelp.

  Three and four follow shortly, with hardly a break between them. The belt cuts into my naked flesh like a hot knife. Number five adds ringing noises in my ear as the pain takes over. I am breaking a sweat, now loudly panting and whimpering as I cope with the pain.

  "Two more," he says. "Can you handle that?"

  "Yes, Sir," I manage to reply.

  Six. I almost flee across the bed, trying everything in my power to remain in my position and not beg for mercy, which he won't give me.

  Seven. The last and strongest one. I let out a desperate cry as the belt cuts into my flesh, torturing me with burning ache.

  "Seven," I hear Evan's voice behind me. "The lucky number."

  I have nothing to reply to that and just remain on all fours, shaking and whimpering as I cope with the burning pain on my behind.

  This is the best part. The transition from pain to that sweet afterglow. An intense throbbing as a reminder of the hardest spanking I have ever received in my life.

  Evan grants me just a few moments to savor it, giving me a chance to gather myself just enough to be able to take him. I am wetter than ever when I feel the tip of his hard cock teasing my entrance.

  Relief runs through my body as he finally fucks me, thrusting his considerable length inside me without the slightest hesitation. He grabs me by the hip, thus intensifying the intense, deep shoves. His pelvis continuously presses against my burning ass cheeks, sending hot stings through my entire body that only increase my pleasure.

  This one might have been for him – yet I join him in an earth-shattering climax as he finds his release deep inside of me.

  Epilogue

  Nicky

  It has been exactly three years since I first walked through these doors. Of course, I didn't have my own card back then. And the place did not have the little touch of Nicky that I have been adding steadily over time.

  It’s been a long day, like most days. But still, I get home before him. I don’t mind it at all. Evan’s passion for his work, his company, is something I wasn’t able to understand years ago, but I get it now. I had to find my own passion to understand what it is like to live and work like the people I used to despise before.

  I slip out of my shoes and lazily stroll through our luxurious penthouse. Our home.

  I smile as I see the little note and the dark red roses – two of them – that Evan left on our kitchen table.

  I had completely forgotten about our anniversary, mainly because work has been crazy this week. Of course he wouldn’t forget. He’s more of a romantic than I will ever be. I came to understand that a long time ago and the beautiful roses are just further proof of that.

  Three years.

  Three wonderful years since the day he literally opened his door for me.

  My eyes rest on the roses in front of me. What a different person I was back then. What a different life I was leading. There are so many things I have Evan to thank for. With him, I not only found the love of my life, but also the kind of life I truly enjoy living.

  Yuka made fun of me the first time I invited her to our place after moving. But she was not blind to my newfound happiness. And I know she does enjoy having the place we once shared to herself, which is only possible because she changed a few things in her life, as well. Even though she is hesitant about admitting it, she may have found the man she has been looking for. And a job that allows her to live on her own for once.

  She even congratulated me for not listening to her back then and giving Evan a second chance.

  Without him, I never would have ended up where I am right now. I am an editor at a small indie publishing company. It’s not an illustrious career to boast about, and I could never afford to live in a place like this on my own. All the luxury in our life is still thanks to Evan’s wealth, but I’ve stopped feeling bad about it.

  I love my job and I work hard for my success, harder than I’ve ever worked in my entire life. The kind of books and magazines my publisher is responsible for are the kind that I would want to read myself. We serve a certain niche and are far away from mainstream media in many regards. This is the reason why we will never make huge amounts of money, but it serves the right kind of people, a minority with a particular taste in fashion, music, and entertainment.

  This is where I belong.

  I love the people I work with – and I love Evan for enabling this life for me. If it wasn't for him, I am sure I would still be at the exact same place I was three years ago.

  A waitress. There is nothing wrong with that, but I was an unhappy waitress who was unwilling to face the uncomfortable questions he forced me to deal with. That’s the difference.

  It was hard work. I had to finish my degree and apply for internships, gaining working experience just like everyone else.

  But Evan was there to help me through it. In many regards.

  I absentmindedly touch the silver ring around my neck. The lock has not been opened in a long time. I wouldn't want it to be. I’m proud to wear his collar. And no one has ever asked me about it. For outsiders it appears to be nothing but jewelry. Jewelry that I truly love. I wear it every day.

  I am collared. Yet I have never felt freer, because I finally feel like I belong.