Come Back to Me (Bound to You Book 2) Read online

  And it was his job to honor that trust. He couldn't bear the thought of seeing that distance in her eyes again, her eyes filled with distrust and hurt.

  But she'd come back to him.

  She'd come back.

  Her eyes were filled with wonder and trust again, and she yearned to please him.

  Her trust was his to cherish.

  And he needed to keep her there.

  He'd led her to this place. She'd followed him, willingly lain across his knee and taken on the challenge of obeying him. It was time now to bring her to a higher place, a place of deeper intimacy and trust.

  Her recent conversation with Little Lady showed where her heart and head were. Meredith wanted to feel important to him. She needed to know he cared about her. Maybe she'd thought his pulling back from her was due to his being lazy, or indifferent to her feelings, but he knew the reality was quite different. He'd simply needed more time to plan where to take this next.

  But she couldn't read his mind anymore than he could read hers, and his mistake had been in not talking to her. She needed more reassurance. They were still in the process of rebuilding.

  It was time now to honor the trust she'd placed in him.

  Paolo wasn't sure if what he had planned would bring about what he hoped it would. But that didn't matter. It was the process of working through it together that would bring about the healing they so desperately needed.

  He inhaled, steeling himself for the day ahead. It would take self control, patience, and strength.

  Reaching over to where Meredith still lay asleep, he gently shook her shoulder.

  “It's time now, Meredith. Time to get up.” She stirred, but turned her head and rolled over, snuggling into the pillow and settling in to go back to sleep. He watched her for a moment before he shook her shoulder once again.

  “Meredith. I want you to get up, now,” he said, more insistently this time.

  She groaned. “One more minute,” she murmured, making no attempt whatsoever to even open her eyes.

  He frowned.

  This would not do. He had plans for her. And his plans for her involved teaching her to obey him. His plans were not just for his benefit, but for hers as well. He could not allow any form of disobedience. They needed this weekend, and it was time to begin.

  He'd give her one more chance.

  “Now, Meredith.” She groaned.

  Jaw set, he leaned over, lifted his hand, and spanked her bare skin sharply. She yelped, her eyes blinking open.

  “I said it's time to wake up, now.”

  She sat up, frowning, rubbing her bottom. “That's a mean way to wake me up,” she grumbled. He narrowed his eyes, leaned closer to her, and lowered his voice.

  “You'll do what I say before I show you how mean I can be.”

  He watched her carefully. How she would respond next would indicate to him how to respond.

  It was time to move forward.

  She needed this from him.

  And moving forward meant it was time for her to obey him.

  ***

  Being woken with a sharp swat was truly not Meredith's choice method of being woken. Her hand on her bottom, she rubbed, still so sensitive from the night before. What was that all about? He was frowning at her, an eyebrow raised, and she suddenly realized he was fully prepared to deliver far more than a single swat if she didn't hop to. He crossed his arms over his chest. She sat up quickly, still groggy, but afraid of disobeying him.

  “What is it?” she whispered.

  “I said it's time to get up. Go make coffee for the two of us, and come back here.” He glanced at the bedside table. “You have five minutes.”

  She rolled out of the bed and scooted quickly to the doorway, but as she reached the doorway, she froze, suddenly remembering what he'd told her the night before.

  “Yes, Sir!” she fairly shouted. His lips twitched but his eyes remained stern.

  Meredith's mind raced as she made her way to the kitchen, adrenaline pumping through her as if she'd just woken and realized she had a plane to catch. He'd told her he had plans for her, and that this weekend he would expect her to obey him.

  You will go over my knee, not once, or twice, but any time I demand it.

  I will tell you what to do and when.

  She turned on the coffeemaker and opened the cupboard to retrieve mugs, but as she did, she realized one of the blue mugs had a chip on it. She frowned, glancing in the cupboard, realizing it had been months since she'd gone through their cabinets and cleaned them out. Maybe this weekend would be a good to pull things out and organize them, if he said they weren't going anywhere…

  Meredith realized with a start that she hadn't even put the coffee grounds in the coffeemaker yet, and she had three minutes left to obey his instruction. She yanked the coffee out of the cupboard, quickly prepared the coffee, and pushed the “brew” button, tapping her foot as it lit up and began to kick in. Why was it taking so long? Five minutes had seemed like enough time to brew a cup of coffee, but as she waited for the red light to indicate the coffee was brewing, it seemed as if the clock was ticking by at double time.

  Two minutes left.

  She walked quickly to the fridge and retrieved the creamer, took the sugar out for Paolo, and sighed with relief as coffee began to pour into the carafe. She quickly poured the cups of coffee and muttered under her breath. Why on earth would he give her a time frame? She was perfectly capable of making coffee without making it into a timed affair.

  Would he want something to eat with it? She opened the cupboard, looking for something she could give him, as she glanced at the clock. She had thirty seconds. And as her eyes flicked down the hallway, temptation began to whisper to her.

  What would he do if she were late?

  Her mind began to wander.

  Would he use the flogger again? Shit, that thing was so sexy. But no, it wouldn't be right to intentionally push him. Would it? Her job was to obey, and she didn't want him to have to punish her, not already, not so soon. Plus, he'd nearly promised her plenty of spanking this weekend.

  Lingering in front of the cupboard a moment, she finally decided to skip food for now. He'd only asked for coffee, after all, and he only had a few seconds left.

  She would not push it. Not now, anyway.

  She stirred the coffee, tossed the spoon in the sink, and walked as quickly as she could to the bedroom, careful not to spill the coffee.

  Paolo was staring at the clock when she came in.

  “Not leaving any time to spare, babe,” he said, as he reached for the steaming mug of coffee.

  “Yep. I made it in time.” She smiled coyly at him. “Though I must confess I was tempted to be late, to see what you'd do.”

  He frowned.

  Shit.

  Well, why the hell had she gone and admitted that?

  “But I didn't!” she protested. “I decided to obey you! See?”

  He raised both eyebrows. “You decided you'd obey me? There was a question?”

  Her eyes shifted downward and she squirmed. She sat on the edge of the bed and took a sip of coffee, swallowing against her rising nerves.

  “It was a fleeing thought, Paolo, nothing more,” she whispered. She forced a smile. “And I did what you asked. I was only curious what you'd do if I were late.”

  “You mean besides whip your ass for disobeying me?”

  Besides?

  God!

  “Um,” she whispered. “Can we change the subject?”

  His eyes twinkled but remained steadily focused on her, as he sipped his coffee. “When I'm done with this one,” he said stubbornly. Shit. “I'd have spanked you disobeying. And I'd have taken your coffee away from you.”

  Eyes wide, she took a long, deliberate gulp of coffee before he changed his mind and followed through with his dire threat. But she felt irritated. He'd wanted her to tell him what she was thinking, what was on her mind, and then when she did, he made her feel like a brat for how she felt.
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  That certainly didn't encourage her to want to confide in him.

  He took another sip of coffee, carefully watching her as he did. “I can tell by the look on your face, something is bothering you, Meredith,” he said. “Tell me.”

  “Well, how am I supposed to keep telling you what's on my mind if you're going to punish me for what I think?”

  He put his coffee mug down on the bedside table and folded his hands in his lap. “I have never punished you for your thoughts. Where is this coming from?”

  She sighed. “I only told you I was tempted to disobey you. And you're threatening to punish me,” she said, fighting against the urge to raise her voice. She steadied her voice. “And I don't think that's fair.”

  He nodded. “Is that all?”

  “Yes, sir,” she whispered.

  “I'm not punishing you for your thoughts, Meredith,” he said. “But you just told me now you were tempted to disobey me.” His eyes darkened, and his voice lowered. “And I want it clear that we're not playing that game. If you choose to disobey me on purpose, I will punish you. Every time. The coffee this morning was a small instruction. Hardly anything. And yet, your instinct was to say no.” She nodded, as he paused. “I want you to want to obey me. You're ready now. You're ready to learn more. You're ready to be challenged. And part of that challenge is overcoming your own will. More than that even.” He paused. “At times, it might even mean overcoming your instinctive desires.”

  He stared at her with the look that made her quake.

  “You get me?”

  She nodded. “Yes, Sir,” she whispered.

  “Good. So it's clear that if you choose to deliberately disobey, I'll punish you soundly. Yes?”

  She gulped. “Yes, sir.”

  “Very good,” he said, sipping the coffee. “And the coffee is perfect.”

  She smiled. “Thank you.”

  He gave a curt nod. “Are you done with your coffee?”

  She stared down at her empty cup. She hadn't even realized she'd finished. “Wow. I guess so.”

  “Hand me your mug.” She obeyed, and her heart began to pound. He had that look about him, and she had no idea what to expect.

  “Now I want you to stand. I want you to strip. And I want you facing the wall, hands flat in front of you, nose almost touching. Go assume that position now.”

  She felt an icy prick of fear mingled with excitement at his command. She stood, slipping out of the pink nightie from the night before. She felt self conscious suddenly, standing in front of him like this, but she obeyed, stepping quickly over to the wall, and placing both her hands in front of her. The wall was cool to the touch, and she shivered. Her skin prickled in anticipation.

  It was a wildly vulnerable position to stand in, naked before him. Would he spank her? What was he thinking? The coffee hadn't fully kicked in yet, and she still felt a bit groggy, but excitement caused her to perk up. She could still feel the stripes of pain from having been spanked the night before, in some places a sort of dull ache like she'd worked out her muscles, but in others, a sharp surface sting. Would he spank her again? Now? And what the hell had he spanked her with the night before?

  “What's on your mind, baby?” he murmured. She shifted slightly, careful to make sure she kept her eyes trained on the wall and her hands in place.

  “I was wondering what you used to spank me last night,” she confessed. “I know the feel of the flogger, but what else did you use? I didn't see anything else out.”

  He chuckled. “I didn't expect that question.”

  She smiled to the wall. “I didn't expect that spanking.”

  He gave another low chuckle. “I used the flogger to spank you. But the handle was designed to function as a riding crop, for a more serious sensation. The flogger I bought for you is on the tamer side. The handle kicks things up.”

  Ohhh. He really had done his homework, clearly.

  “It sure does,” she murmured.

  “Quiet now, bonita,” he said in a low command.

  Meredith obeyed. She didn't know how long she stood waiting for him, acutely conscious of standing before him vulnerable and exposed, and aware of the fact that she was completely at his mercy. Her mind teemed with questions, but with an effort, she forced herself to quiet her mind. She focused instead on the wall in front of her. Cream-colored, it looked like a clean, blank slate and to the right, just out of her vision, she could see the black edge of a framed print of their wedding day. As her breathing quieted, she could hear nothing but Paolo's breath behind her. She still felt a prickle curiosity and anticipation, but a calm had descended on the room.

  “Are you cold, baby?” he asked softly. His voice was so husky, and the low rumble of his voice seemed like a rough caress.

  “No, Sir,” she whispered.

  “Now, Meredith,” he said, his voice low, a rumbling whisper. “Tell me your thoughts now.”

  “I don't really have anything to share,” she whispered. “I just feel… calm. Centered. Curious, but in a good way, like when you made me kneel to wait for you.”

  “Good. Very good. You're a good girl.”

  She felt his praise melt over her, sunshine and light.

  Good girl.

  He shifted behind her, and she heard the bed creak as he reached for something. She jumped as she heard the jingle of his belt buckle. Her breath caught and her heart began to race.

  “Remember your numbers, Meredith.”

  She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. “Yes, Sir,” she whispered.

  She wanted to turn, to see his belt in his hand, but forced herself to make the choice to obey.

  “You've done well, bonita,” he murmured. “Your submission is beautiful to me. Do you know that?”

  She swallowed. “No, Sir,” she said. “I didn't know that, no.”

  “It means you trust me,” he said. “And I want to honor the trust you've given me.”

  “Yes, Sir,” she whispered. She heard the whiz in the air before she felt the stroke of his belt on her naked skin. She gasped, raising up on her tiptoes. It was a completely different sensation. Different from the ticklish stings of the flogger. Different from the deeper thud of the crop. Different from the feel of his large, powerful palm slapping her bare skin. It stung, but not terribly, and immediately after the sting she felt warmth spreading over her skin.

  Little Lady had told her she liked the feel of leather, and it always sounded scary but sexy. She inhaled as she sensed him rearing back again behind her.

  This time the sting was sharper, and she gasped.

  “What was the one instruction I gave you?” he chided. Instruction? She'd stayed in place, but he hadn't told her anything—oh!

  “I was supposed to give you a number!” she said. He said nothing in reply, but she felt a punishing swat land in reply.

  “Seven!” she yelped. “That was a seven!”

  “Just seven?” Another swat, this time harder, and it was all she could do to stay in position up against the wall. It hurt, badly than anything she'd yet experienced, the layered sting of his belt on her bare skin searing into her skin. She wondered in a haze of pain if he'd left a welt.

  “Oh my God! Ten!” she shouted.

  “Mmm. And that's a ten,” he murmured. “I gave you one simple instruction and you didn't do what I asked,” he said, in explanation of the increased intensity.

  God! When would she learn?

  Swat!

  “I've folded my belt over,” he said. “That was the ten. Now it's wrapped around my hand with a tail like a strap. I tested it against myself, and doubled over it's far more painful. Do not turn around. I could hurt you with this if I'm not careful, as it's length is more difficult to manage, and I can't tell from your reaction yet if it's surprise or pain you're reacting to. So it's essential you give me your numbers. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes, Sir,” she said.

  He was quiet, and she heard him shift again.

  “Again, Meredith
.” Then no warning, just another sting as his belt landed again and she gasped.

  “Seven,” she said.

  “Very good. Good job, baby. You're taking your spanking well, bonita.”

  Swat!

  Arousal zinged between her legs, her nipples painfully hardened, sweaty palms and labored breathing as she waited for the next zing through the air.

  Swat! Softer, this time, but still warm and stinging.

  “Five,” she gasped.

  “Perfect. You're doing so well, baby.”

  Swat! It felt the same as before, not too hard, not too soft. “Five again.”

  No response this time, but when the next swat landed, she yelped involuntarily.

  “Eight,” she breathed. Her bottom was on fire now, the warmth of a spanking from his belt spreading. The sound of the belt whizzing through the air, the feel of the sharp, sensual sting on her skin, his command of the situation, consumed her. She swallowed, willing herself to stand upright as he continued, swat after swat, and she murmured a response, vaguely aware of the fact that harder swats didn't seem to hurt as much as they did when he started.

  “Mmm. Yes. You're warmed up now,” he said quietly.

  Swat!

  “So a harder swat isn't as painful as it was when I first began.”

  Swat!

  Finally, she heard the jingle of the belt as he placed it down.

  “You've done well. So well, baby. Come here now.”

  She turned to face him, every sense heightened. Her bottom stung, her lower back where his belt had landed, even her thighs were throbbing. He sat on the edge of the bed waiting for her, his eyes twinkling but face stern. She could tell even from the distance how hard he was. He pointed silently to the floor and she fell to her knees. She could feel the roughness of the carpet beneath her knees. The warm, sensual pain on her bare skin. She heard his breath and hers, and felt his powerful hands grasp her when she drew close. And as she knelt, she became aware of feelings that surprised her.

  She felt...happy.

  Joyful.