My laugh sounded empty. “We’re not doing this.”
“Take that stick out of your arse. We’ve a roomful of equipment you’ve neglected to test, and a whole pile of resentment simmering in a pressure pot. Something’s got to give. This is the sensible choice.”
“The sensible choice is we resolve our differences like adults... slowly... over time...”
“Or we knock it out in the open, right here, right now. This is our way, Andy. This is our scene, at least start acting like it.”
“I know who I am, Faye.”
“I’m not so sure...” she goaded. “I think you’ve lost your touch... Are you scared, Andy? Scared you’re out of practice? That I’ll break you like a scared little girl? You’re excited, aren’t you? Do you want to see the mess he made of my tits?”
She wasn’t expecting the crack on her shoulder blades. A perfect strike, the tails licked her skin with perfect pressure. Her skin prickled, bloomed pink. “Your smart mouth is going to get you into a world of fucking trouble, Faye.”
“I hope so,” she breathed, then braced herself for another. This one was harder, faster, jolting her out of position for just a moment. Her hands reached around to her bra clasp. I swallowed as she tossed it to the side. “A bare canvas,” she whispered. “Hit me. Andy, it’s what we both want.”
We shouldn’t play angry. Shouldn’t play at all. The heat was building behind my eyes, years of resentment gripping my fingers tight to that flogger. “You fucking asked for this,” I growled.
I criss-crossed her back with swipes, darkening her skin to my favourite hue. Her breathing slowed, head dipped in concentration. Occasionally she’d moan, just the faintest little moan. Her back was a wall of pink by the time I’d done with her. She held out a hand for the flogger, and my eyes soaked in the dark of her swollen nipples. Her tits were splotched with colour, each tooth mark etched in purple. Her tits rose and fell with her breath. I fought the urge to reach for them, tease them, put my hungry fucking mouth around her nipples and bite until she learnt some manners.
“Shirt off,” she said. “Against the wall. Same drill.”
“You’re not hitting me, Faye. I don’t play that way.”
“Since when?” She raised her eyebrows. “You think you’re the only one who’s got resentment issues? Tit for fucking tat, Andy. Get your fucking shirt off.”
“You’d better make it good.” I gestured to the rack. “Crop next, one of the models they use at the Badminton horse trials. Quite a fucking bite on it.”
She watched as I took off my tie and unbuttoned my shirt, her lips curling into a smile. “Come on, pussycat, hands against the wall.”
I placed my palms flat, mind whirring. I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d played. I raised the stakes, raised them sky fucking high. “New game, Faye. Winner takes all.”
“Winner?” she quizzed.
“Ten strikes each, working our way along the selection. We alternate, until one of us bails. You can take seven strokes to my ten if you like, make it fair.”
She landed the flogger hard around my ribs. “Don’t flatter yourself. You’re out of practice, my tolerance is higher.”
“We’ll see about that.” I hissed as she landed another. “You win and we’ll dust your desk off, set you up in the office.”
“And if I don’t?” She cracked the flogger with perfect precision, right between my shoulder blades. My skin burned like hell.
“If I win you’re working the bar for as long as I want. No argument, no questions.”
“Deal.” She unleashed the torrent. The flogger was savage, but not savage enough to test my limits. She was breathing heavily by the time she was done, more heavily than I was. I checked out my back in the mirrored wall. Lobster pink. She’d got me good.
I unhooked the crop from the wall. Jabbed it through the air in her direction. “Skirt off. Now.” She didn’t protest, just unbuttoned and dropped it. “Panties, too.”
She raised an eyebrow but did as she was told. “You going to use that thing on my pussy? That’s a bold precedent.”
“I’ll use it wherever the fuck I want.”
“I like this game.” She took up position, and I tapped the crop against her thighs to indicate wider. She shifted her feet apart like a good girl. “Make it good, ten strokes.”
The glorious thwack of crop against tender thighs. She started, sucking in breath. I didn’t give her long to recover before landing another, just a fraction below. The pain would bloom as one. She rocked on her toes.
My ten went by in a heartbeat, cock pulsing in my suit trousers. Her thighs were a fucking delight as I handed her the crop.
“Strip,” she hissed. “Everything.” She smirked as my cock sprang free. “Seems you haven’t lost your appetite after all.”