Vienna Betrayal - Lila Dubois Page 0,44

her with a passion so strong and deep that “want” hovered on the edge of “need”.

“Strip,” he commanded. “Then kneel.”

Chapter 11

Alena reached back and unhooked her bra. Taking off a strapless bra was always a good feeling, but even more so when removing it meant she was one step closer to having his hands on her.

As she held the bra out, then dramatically let it fall to the floor, she also let go of the real reason she was here. She boxed up the part of her mind that was furiously working and reworking her plans.

Right now she was Alena the submissive.

His submissive. What was about to happen with him had nothing to do with what was on the first floor of this building.

Alexander sat back in his chair, one elbow on the table. A king at ease in his castle?

Funny, but that metaphor didn’t seem as fitting as calling him a knight.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said last night.” Alena hooked her fingers under the waist of her panties.

Alexander raised a brow.

“The captured queen.” She slid her underwear down to her knees, then let it fall to the floor. “Is that how you see all subs?”

“No.”

Alena stepped out of her panties, then dropped to her knees. The marble was cold and hard.

“Are you going to make me beg you for every word?” She reached up and removed the comb that held back one side of her hair, setting it on top of her discarded bra.

“No.” He smirked down at her.

Alena inched closer to him, until she could fold her arms on his knees and prop her chin on her wrist. “What are the other types of subs?”

Alexander slid his hand into her hair, tugging until she scrambled to her feet, her hands braced on his thighs, their faces close enough together that she could smell the rich scent of red wine when he exhaled.

“The brat.”

Alexander forced her to turn towards the table. They’d shoved their plates away, and that meant there was plenty of space for him to bend her over the table, her bare breasts pressed against the wood.

“Hands behind,” he murmured, tapping the small of her back.

Alena managed it, though it was awkward and difficult to do while facedown on the table. Alexander helped her, his touch slow and deliberate.

“Lace your fingers together.”

Alena shivered, and it had nothing to do with being naked. Her butt was sore from two back-to-back nights of impact play and here she was, in the perfect position for more spanking.

When his hand grazed her bare ass cheek, she yelped in alarm.

“Sore?” he asked.

“Yes. I’m not sure…” She sighed. “I was going to say I’m not sure I’m up for impact play tonight, but I trust you.”

“You shouldn’t.”

Alena twisted awkwardly to look back at him, her fingers curled around one another to make sure her hands didn’t separate and slip off her back.

“That’s not something you should say to me right now,” she half warned.

“Face down.” Alexander grabbed her shoulder and forced her torso down onto the table.

His hand slid over her ass again, then he added a quick, hard swat. It hurt enough to tense her muscles. She squeezed her eyes closed.

Another spank, then another.

At the fourth one, she broke. She shoved off the table, her shoulder knocking into Alexander’s chest.

She whirled away from him, backing up several steps. Her breathing was labored, fueled by newborn panic.

“Alena.” The word cracked like a whip and she winced, taking another step back. Her dress was on the floor by his feet, as was her underwear.

“Alena?” His voice softened, her name now a question.

“You said I shouldn’t trust you.”

“Yes.”

“Do you see how I might find that alarming when I’m alone in your home with you?”

Alexander frowned. “You’re…scared?”

The panic folded in on itself, making way to exasperation. “Yes, Alexander. I find it alarming when you say I can’t trust you when, unlike at the club, there would be no one here to help me if you…” She swallowed heavily. “If you really hurt me.” Her fingers twisted together nervously. “It didn’t help that I told you I’m sore and you still started to spank me.”

He crossed his arms. “You’re a lazy sub, then.”

“Excuse me?” Alena’s fear disappeared in an instant, replaced by outrage. She mirrored his posture, arms folded under her bare breasts.

“You’re submissive because you’re lazy. You want the Dom to do all the work, make all the decisions, while still controlling what happens.”

“I am not a ‘lazy sub.’” Alena narrowed her eyes at