“Your usual, sir.” A waitress appeared beside me, my preferred drink offered up on a tray.
“Thank you, Trish.”
She glowed, maybe reading too much into my knowing her name. I tried to know the names of everyone who worked for me, especially the good ones. She’d been working there for over a year, reliable, moved things along nicely.
“You need anything you let me know.” She added a little wiggle to her walk, but I had eyes for one woman and one woman alone. Right now she was laughing at something the bartender said. I wanted to wipe the smirk right off that tattooed hipster’s face.
I gripped my drink tight in my hand, watching Kara through narrowed eyes. She wasn’t mine, I reminded myself. Not really, not yet. But I’d get my week. For seven days I’d have her all to myself. Now I’d let her have her fun, let her bop around waiting tables or whatever game she was playing here. I could wait this out. I’d already waited a cruel number of hours since her text message agreeing to our arrangement. In the end, though, I always got what I wanted.
Across the bar, Kara made her way to a table with two couples. I watched her from my dark corner. She had such an easy way about her, so gracious. A natural beauty.
I wanted her all to myself. Screw sharing her with this room full of people, I wanted to drag her down to a dark cave and keep her there with me for days on end. Seven to be exact.
Kara was talking to that group of guys again. A bachelor party, I bet, up for some back-slapping Montana good times. They might be heading out to stay in one of my resorts. They looked like high-rollers.
That skirt she was wearing. What did she have on under it? Lacy scraps like last night? Little boy shorts? I couldn’t see even a hint of panty lines. What if she had nothing on underneath? I knew she probably wore something, but still I wondered. Fantasized.
And that t-shirt. Technically it was the bar uniform, one I’d found somewhat subtle and even restrained until now. How did she make it look like a tiny top at Hooters? She was busting out of it. Could I even see a peek of midriff? That wasn’t fair.
Problem was, I wasn’t the only guy fixated on her. I had to share the attention with an army of other numbnuts. That bartender who looked like he belonged in some indie band was hitting on Kara like it was his job. And she was loving it, flirting her ass off right back at him.
I gripped my drink tighter. This was just like it had been that summer I’d worked at her ranch. Watching her flounce around, teasing, taunting and looking sexier than hell but always out of reach. I’d had to grin and bear it, the servant not good enough for the princess up on the hill, the spoiled little daughter of the boss man.
I’d had enough of that. This needed to end. She didn’t belong out there waiting tables, bringing other guys drinks. She was supposed to be here to meet me. Serving me.
What finally sent me over the edge was the blond asshat. First one guy grabbed that waist of hers, then another one, a blond guy holding her close like he was about to make love to her. Fuck that. She belonged to me.
Barreling down through the throngs of people, I made my way over to Kara in a few seconds flat. She didn’t see me coming. I grabbed her hard and fast and swung her up and over my shoulder in a fireman’s carry.
“What the—?” she managed to spit out, twisting in my grip.
“You’re coming with me,” I growled, angry, storming with her over my shoulder out of the bar. My hands up on her hips, my fingers gripped the top of her thighs as I carried her out and over to the private elevator up to my penthouse.
“Declan!” she protested, banging a few fists against my back. I ignored her, refusing to let go until the elevator’s ‘bing’ and I stepped inside. The doors closed and I slid her down the front of my body, one hand firmly cupping her ass, the other at the back of her head.
Driven, angry, I leaned down and kissed her, crushing her lips against my own. She protested for a mere second, then met me with fierce need. Her lips, hungry and urgent, sought mine as she kissed me back, mewls rising from her as if the animal within needed release. I consumed her, licking, sucking, meeting her tongue with mine, needing more. At her neck, I traced a line down to the V-neck of her shirt, searing into her skin.
Ferocious, I grabbed the neck of her thin cotton t-shirt in my two hands and ripped it right off of her.
“Declan!” Kara exclaimed in shock, hands up to cover her heaving breasts spilling out of her black, lacy bra.
Determined, still angry, I secured her wrists back behind her in my hands. Her nipples stood out, hard and ripe, against the silk of her bra. I brought my mouth to them, sucking hot and hungry. As I licked and laved, sucking her needy buds, she moaned and leaned into me. I grabbed her ass and pressed her full into my huge, hard erection. She gasped and writhed against me, her eyes half-lidded with lust.
I pressed the elevator stop button. I didn’t want to wait until we got to the penthouse. I needed this now, right in the elevator.
“Turn and put your hands against the wall,” I commanded.
Shaking, she gave me an unsure look, but then moved and did exactly what I said. I wrapped my hands around her waist, then pulled her hips toward me. She gasped in surprise, but let me push her back down so she was standing ass-up, hands on the wall. One hand still on her back, I trailed the other down her body, down to her round, sexy bottom in her skirt. She moaned in anticipation.
“Oh, my Kara,” I murmured, slowly stroking her ass. “Kara, were you waiting tables in my bar?” I kept my voice low and level, stern.
Breathy, she glanced back nervously. “Yes, Declan.”
My hand gripped her left hip strong, pulling her buttocks closer toward me. With my other hand I continued to caress her, tracing the bottom of the skirt, grazing the inside of her thighs. “You were supposed to be waiting to meet me at seven.”
“I know. I thought—”
Smack, I brought my hand down hard on her ass still in her tiny black skirt. She gasped, breathing ragged, her hands grasping the wall.
“Don’t speak unless I ask you a question,” I commanded.
Slowly, so slowly, I brought my hand up to the outside of her hip. I gathered the stretchy cotton fabric of her skirt in my hands and pulled, inching it up, up and over.
I’d never seen anything so gorgeous as Kara’s stripped naked ass. She wore a thin black thong. She made no protest as I tore it off as well, throwing it to the floor alongside her discarded shirt. Seeing her in just cowboy boots and a black bra, hands against the wall awaiting my commands I couldn’t suppress a groan of male approval. She was perfect and she was mine.
I caressed her lower back, the curve of her hips, down along the base of her round, soft cheeks. She moaned and squirmed with building arousal.
“Who do you serve, Kara?” I asked, my voice low and controlled. She gasped and began to pant, but didn’t answer. I raised my large hand and brought it down firmly on her naked ass. Quivering, moaning, she cried out and I could hear her mingled sensations in it, the surprise, the pain, the intense pleasure.
Smack, I brought my palm down again. Her skin began to turn pink under my assault. Smack, I spanked her rough and hard on her tender flesh. She twisted and started to move, her hands slipping down from their position.
“Keep your hands right where I told you,” I barked at her. Whimpering, panting, she did as she was told. She was bent over, but I could still see her erect, aroused nipples through her bra. I brought my foot inside hers and pushed her legs further apart. Pressing her back down with one hand, I bent her over far enough that I could see her full slit. My nostrils flared, my cock throbbed and I bit back a groan at the sight of her arousal. Her pussy was slick, glistening and swollen with need.
She liked her spanking. It made her soaking wet to follow my orders and take her punishment. Yes, Kara would do well as my submissive.
“Good,” I stroked her lower back, arched, tilting up her ripe, ready, pink ass for my pleasure. She sighed under my praise and I made a rumbl
e of satisfaction deep in my throat. “Now, I asked you a question, Kara.” Taking my hand away, I brought it down sharp and hard again on her backside. She gasped and moaned, soft sounds of deep pleasure tearing from her throat.
“Who do you serve, Kara?” I asked, teasing her with my fingers, so close to her sex yet not touching. She whimpered and thrust toward my fingers, offering herself up, begging for my stroke. But I didn’t give it to her. “You serve me, Kara. Not guys in a bar. You serve me.”
My voice grew harsh once more. “Say it!” I brought my hand down with a firm smack on her ass.
She cried out in intense pleasure. “I serve you!” she moaned. “You, Declan.”
“That’s right,” I exhaled, giving her her reward. My fingers found her wet center. I stroked her folds, so drenched for me.
“Oh!” she cried out, bucking her pussy against my fingers, desperate. “Yes!”
“So needy,” I teased her, beginning to slowly circle her clit. She started to move, her hands slipping off the wall as she twisted toward me. I withdrew my fingers. “Hands back up where I told you.” Reluctantly, she brought her hands to the wall again, her legs spread wide for me.
Rewarding her, I brought my fingers back to her sex. She began to tremble as I stroked. I could read her body, sense what she needed and when. Taking my fingers from her clit, I plunged a long, thick finger up inside of her trembling, wet walls. She cried out, panting and raw. Back to stroke and tease her clit, I could feel her pleasure building, her need coiled tight, preparing for release.
I withdrew my hand.
“You were naughty, Kara. You don’t get to come. Not yet.” I smacked her full across her buttocks again and she cried out, sounding even more urgent. My fingers covered in her juices, I ran them slick around the edges of her pussy and along the inside of her thighs, teasing her. Letting her know I knew just how much she needed it.