Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 107660 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107660 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
CHAPTER 10
ASPEN
“What the fuck is subspace?” I muttered to my empty apartment.
I leaned in, as if getting closer to the words on my computer screen would cause them to make more sense.
The pressure between my furrowed brows increased, and I struggled to relax.
I always wondered what it would take to create the slightest wrinkle in your austere face.
If only he could see me now with a whole canyon of a groove.
He claimed his nearness caused the wrinkle, but really it had been my confusion about my reaction to his nearness.
I…hadn’t hated it.
His body acted like a magnet to my skin, raising goosebumps as if every inch of me strived to be closer to him.
Every moment left me questioning my sanity—left me wondering how the hell I got from one point to the next. In reality, I knew what started it. The stress of the day wore me down and my mind refused to quiet. Despite the never-ending ramble of thoughts running through my head, one kept returning to the front. The reminder of when everything went quiet. The reminder of the calm I achieved with Lucian.
Despite being able to rationalize it, standing outside his door still seemed surreal. As if my body acted on a base impulse, disconnecting from my mind because it knew going to Lucian Daire and asking for anything was insane. Let alone asking him to spank me.
And the insanity continued from there.
I actually asked him. I actually said the words instead of shoving his demand to hear the request back in his face.
He said yes.
I willingly bent over his desk.
He lifted my skirt and bared my ass.
He touched me.
I liked it.
He called me princess and told me I was a good girl.
I melted under his praise.
He struck me again and again.
I craved each hit.
But the most insane moment of the night? I orgasmed.
I hadn’t allowed myself to orgasm since I was a teenager. Even when I tried to, a part of me always remained aware of my body, refusing to fully untether my control. A part of me always remembered that it wasn’t safe to completely let go.
Except, this time, every ounce of my body and mind slipped into the quiet abyss. Each stinging slap lured me further and further into a place I didn’t have to think—didn’t have to worry about what was safe and what wasn’t. I became nothing beyond what he wanted me to be.
I’d slipped into a state of such heightened euphoria beyond my control that I doubted if I’d ever come back to reality. But I had. The foggy and muffled world slowly cleared as the orgasm faded. And the first thing I heard was his deep voice, praising me for how well I came. I basked in his approval, still clinging to the mind-numbing void.
Until it faded and my body collided with my consciousness. The crash back to reality yanked my muscles tight, urging me upright. Urging me to flee.
I cringed when I remembered the lame “thank you” I muttered. Again.
The further I got from the office, the tension from earlier in the day flooded back, bringing with it a wave of emotions I didn’t know where to start with. Once I got home, I blasted music and took a bath in an attempt to blot out my racing thoughts.
I sank under the water, weighed down by shock and embarrassment over my orgasm. God, I’d gone there to ask him to spank me, to help me find that calm control, and somehow lost any form of control, turning it sexual. What was wrong with me?
The worst part was Lucian. I’d stood tall and righteous when we first met, warning him about sexual harassment and there I was beating down his door for a spanking and then coming from it.
After a fitful night of sleep filled with dreams of Lucian pulling my panties aside and fucking me, I couldn’t bring myself to face him. So, I took the morning to prepare for a lunch meeting and decided to return home after.
That was two hours ago, and I hadn’t moved from my spot on the couch with my computer, researching everything I could.
I read the words on the screen, uncomfortable with their description.
Submissive.
Subspace.
Subdrop.
“I am not submissive,” I affirmed. Because of course I wasn’t. I worked my ass off every day to become the boss of Quinn Music Group. I dominated that office and everything in it. I remained in control; in projects, meetings, dates, partners, friends, myself. I didn’t submit to anything in my life.
Despite the affirmation, the website explained how people who were always in charge found comfort in letting go with someone else. It talked about how spanking could release endorphins, allowing people to release their tension and relax. That explained the euphoric floating sensation, but it didn’t ease the chaotic confusion tightening around my chest.