Collared (Vegas Nights Book 1) Read online

  It was a joke that was, in Diamond’s opinion, was getting old quickly.

  Her body shifted in his grip, as Pax leaned forward, and opened the nightstand drawer, causing her to clench her already battered bottom and wince. The nightstand drawer was where Pax kept his implements.

  “Now, let’s see here, which of these have you not gotten to test out yet?” he mused, drawing out the torture, as they both knew that his personal implement collection was massive, full of both heavy duty professional grade spanking implements, and many household items that Pax swore were equally effective for punishing a naughty bottom. He took his time, rummaging through the contents of the drawer, occasionally holding an item out for her inspection before shaking his head and returning it to the drawer. She groaned and whimpered and whined at each new suggestion, but the truth was, she enjoyed this part of the ritual as much as he did.

  She could always tell when he made his decision. He’d give a deep chuckle, and pull her in closer to his waist, as he settled back onto the bed. “There are only two implements that are really appropriate for a naughty girl who doesn’t get ready for bed when she’s told to. I think we’ll go with the hairbrush tonight, and if you’re a good girl and take your punishment well, I’ll brush your hair when we’re through with your spanking.”

  A hair brushing after her spanking sounded nice, and Diamond settled in happily, folding her arms and crossing them under her head, satisfied that Pax wasn’t really mad, and he was just making a point about obedience and rules. Pax was big on rules and obedience. Sometimes, when she tiptoed on a rule, he did this, settling her over his knee for a small spanking to test a different tool in his arsenal, usually only giving her a mild taste, as a warning and a reminder that she had committed to being his submissive, and that she needed to remember that commitment, and act like a sub, even when it was hard.

  She assumed that this was to be one of those times, a rather mild reminder spanking, an excuse to give her a taste of something new—until the first crushing blow of the hairbrush fell upon her already tender cheeks.

  Diamond prided herself on taking a spanking well, usually managing to stay pretty stoic until the end was in sight—this was not to be the case tonight. The first taste of the thick wooden hairbrush had her scrambling frantically out of his grasp, and off his lap, landing on her bottom on the floor with a soft thud.

  Pax looked down at her with mild amusement. “I take it you’re not a fan of the hairbrush?”

  “No, sir.” Her lower lip quivered in distress, as he motioned for her to stand up.

  “Good. This will teach you a good lesson in remembering who the top is in this relationship. Get back up here, and take your spanking.”

  “I can’t.” She stayed on the floor, glaring at the innocent looking hairbrush. It was all light and pretty with soft bristles and a beautiful rose carving on the handle. She never would have guessed it would be the most evil implement in his arsenal this far, or pack such a fear inducing wallop.

  “Get back up here before I get to three, or I will double it, and you’ll be getting much more than a taste.” He paused, and looked at her seriously. “One,” he counted slowly, drawing the simple word out with meaning.

  She propelled herself off the floor and over his lap before he finished speaking. This time she clutched the bedcovers in her fists, as if they alone could keep her in position.

  “You’re getting ten,” Pax informed her speaking deliberately. “That one didn’t count, and you will count them.”

  “Yes, sir,” Diamond whimpered, bracing herself to prepare for the pain. She quickly learned there was no way to fully prepare for the wrath of the evil brush.

  “One!” she cried out through clenched teeth.

  “Who’s the boss here?” Pax asked, raising the hairbrush to his shoulder, in preparation for the next one.

  “You are, Sir,” she whooshed out as the brush made contact for the second time. “Two!”

  “Who makes the rules?”

  “You do, Sir.” Her voice was a quiet whimper as her eyes filled with tears. The third swat fell, breaking open the floodgates. “Three!”

  She was beginning to get the point that this was to be a semi-serious spanking, and that Pax had a point to make about who had which role in this relationship by the time she counted out the fifth one, and answered the question that followed it, with a teary “Yes, sir.”

  “Do you understand that you made a commitment to be my submissive, and that implies that you actually attempt to be submissive, even when you don’t agree, and that it’s not all fun and games and experimentation? Is that getting through to you now?”

  “Yes, sir! Six, seven!” She cried out quickly as the two swats fell in quick succession.

  “Good. I’m going to make these last three count.” He declared, even as she wailed her remorse.

  “Who’s the submissive in this relationship?” he asked, changing it up slightly. As promised, the eighth swat fell directly in the middle of her sit spots, and her entire crease felt as if somebody had set fire to it. She screamed, a long loud scream that ended in a distraught wail, and she still had to answer his question.

  “I am, Sir! Eight!”

  “And who’s submissive are you?” The ninth fell in the same spot as the one before it, and the fight completely left her.

  “I’m yours, Sir,” she sobbed into the bed sheets. “Nine!”

  “That’s right,” he affirmed, raising the brush once more, preparing for the final blow. “You’re my submissive. You belong to me. Now, who do you belong to?”

  The final swat landed across the tops of her thighs, as it always did, and she was prepared for it. “I belong to you, Sir! Ten!”

  Pax’s large hand came to rest across the middle of her throbbing backside, and she squirmed as she heard the side drawer open once more. He wasn’t putting the brush away, he said he would brush her hair afterward. She heard the hiss of air as a small tube of cooling gel opened and a dime size dab of the cold liquid hit her flaming flesh. Arnica. Thank god for small favors, she thought, finally relaxing as Pax began massaging the gel softly into her welted flesh.

  “Do you think you’ve learned a lesson tonight?” Pax’s voice was soft now, a gentle cooing, that could have easily lulled her to sleep, if not for her throbbing ass and the fact that he expected answers to his questions.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You’re mine,” he said, as his large hands continued their soft kneading exploration of her bottom. “Being my submissive has many perks, and it probably has an equal amount of downfalls as well. You know, people always talk about how submission is a gift, and it is, and I get that. Your submission to me is a gift that I will strive daily to be deserving of. But you know what people don’t talk about? Dominance is a gift too. Being a dominant is a lot of hard work and self-sacrifice, just as being a submissive is—if the dominant is doing it right anyway.” He added the last part as an aside before continuing. “Being your dominant means I will always strive to make sure you are safe and well taken care of. I will spoil you when you are good, and I will punish you when you are naughty. I’m not the kind of dominant who relishes in making arbitrary rules just because I can. And because I don’t do that, I expect my rules to be obeyed, as giving you rules for your health, safety and well-being is how I do my job of making sure you are taken care of in all aspects of life. Your job as my sub is to follow my rules.”

  The beautiful description of the dynamic brought a fresh wave of tears to her already wet eyes, and made her feel ten times as guilty over her earlier naughtiness, even though she knew that wasn’t his intent.

  “What about your pleasure?” she whispered thickly. “Isn’t that part of my job as your submissive as well?”

  “Sweetheart,” Pax said with a grin, helping her off his knee, and into a sitting position on his lap. “If giving me pleasure feels like a job to you, we’re doing something wrong. It gives me great pleasure to bring you pleasure, both in and o
ut of the bedroom, and I hope that it’s the same for you.” He softly wiped the tears that were still making tracks down her flushed cheeks, and helped her to her feet, patting her bottom as she stood.

  “Woo-ee. That is one torn up bottom, my love. I’d suggest you be on your best behavior the next few days, and give yourself some time to heal. You know the drill. Off to the corner you go.”

  As she wrinkled her nose, and padded off to the corner to serve the time out Pax always required after a spanking, something niggled at the back of her brain. She felt as if she was forgetting something important, and she didn’t know what it was. It was probably just a heady combination of guilt and exhaustion. Role play and a hair brushing could take a lot out of a girl, she was learning.

  The corner that Pax had dedicated as her “naughty girl corner” was nearly directly below the overhead fan, and she relished the cool breeze drifting down to fan her scorched backside. As she stood silently with her hands behind her back, and her nose to the wall, she could feel Pax’s eyes boring into her, watching to make sure she followed protocol. If she so much as moved a muscle without asking his permission first, he’s be over there in a heartbeat, applying his hand to her already heated backside as she stood, and her time in the corner would start over once he was finished. It was a lesson she had learned the hard way. Pax was a bit of a hardass. He ran his own life with military like diligence, and he had equally high expectations for his submissive, but she didn’t mind. He could be equally as gentle, and was quick to offer a hug of forgiveness, a word of encouragement when it was needed the most, and to bring her to her knees both literally and figuratively with an eloquent reminder of what submission and dominance really were about, as he had done earlier, and did often.

  Pax cleared his throat loudly, her signal that it was time to come out. Head down she crossed the room to where he still sat on the bed, and kneeled at his feet. She didn’t look at him, but forced her voice to ring loud and clear enough for him to hear. “I’m sorry, Sir, for my mistake. I won’t argue with you again. Please forgive me.”

  “Look at me, Diamond.”

  Only then, with his express permission did she dare to meet his gaze.

  “You’re already forgiven. Now get on up here, and sit between my legs,” he instructed moving his body fully onto the bed so that he now faced the door instead of the window, propped up by a giant pile of pillows behind his head, he sat with his legs in an Indian style fashion, open wide enough for her to sit comfortably between them, and picked up the hairbrush that had only minutes ago, been used as a weapon of assault on her not so innocent bottom.

  She sighed in contentment as the soft bristles caressed her scalp and worked their way through her fine blonde hair. She hadn’t had her hair brushed by someone else in years, and never by a man. It had always been her sisters. Having Pax pamper her head with the same brush he had previously used to punish her bottom was an exquisite experience, fraught with delicious contradiction.

  She leaned into him, relishing every stroke of the brush that she had earlier cursed. They sat in silence, no words needed. The whisper of the brush, her naked body leaning against his, and the dull ache in her bottom against the down comforter told a story of its own.

  Her eyes began to close, and Pax, patted her shoulder, softly. “Time for bed, little one.”

  She caught a glance of the clock, as she rolled over into her spot and smiled as she snuggled against him. “I got to stay up after all,” she boasted with a tired but satisfied giggle.

  “Yes, you did, but it’s going to have to go on your weekly report. This is why it’s not a good idea to disobey the boss or your dominant—especially when they are one and the same. You get punished twice over.”

  “It was worth it,” she replied happily, just before she drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter Eight

  When Diamond woke up the next morning, Pax was gone. That was nothing unusual. He rose with the sun and started his day, usually sneaking back to his own suite and eating breakfast before she was even awake.

  She glanced at the clock, grumbling when it read at ten after nine. Another thing for her weekly report, but Pax and the other girls assured her that it was normal to have a lot of small infractions in the beginning. Diamond wasn’t used to having work rules outside of her actual time spent working. Aubergine had been much more relaxed in that regard. She liked it though, the fact that Pax cared so much for all of their health and well-being that he had rules and enforced them. Her backside might not like it come next Tuesday though, especially if she didn’t get a break before then. She would though. She had to leave early tomorrow morning for LA. The thought had her shooting up in bed like a jack in the box. That was the thing she had forgotten—the niggling in the back of her brain that hadn’t left her alone last night.

  Emmy’s graduation from college. She had promised her family months ago that she would be home for it. At Aubergine, she had gotten the time off cleared back in April. And then she had gotten fired less than a week before the actual event. Smooth, Diamond, really smooth. Still, she had to go. And it wouldn’t be too hard to convince Pax—as long as she worked tonight as promised. There had to be some benefits to dating the boss after all.

  Crap. That meant she had to add packing to her massive to-do list for the day, in between a required work out, an appointment at the spa, lunch with Pax, and, of course, work. She also had to find a graduation gift for Emmy, and unless she wanted her day to go completely to hell, she had to do it without leaving the hotel. Good thing Rojo was an upscale establishment, home to many shops, restaurants and spas that were renowned across the states. She wasn’t sure that any of them would have an appropriate graduation gift, but she would have to make do with whatever she could find.

  Picking up the phone, she put in her breakfast order—coffee, toast, and fruit, and set off to the bathroom for a shower while she waited. There was no time to waste.

  * * *

  Pax was having a hell of a morning. Several of his casino dealers had gotten a bad case of food poisoning, and called in sick to work that morning leaving him to scramble to rearrange the schedule to find replacements. That had taken a while to sort out. Then there had been a fight between two of his girls at the café that morning. He had arrived after it had all gotten sorted out, apologized to the restaurant manager, and sent them both up to their rooms promising that he would be “discussing” it further with them on the following Tuesday. That had mellowed them right out. He had half a mind to suspend them from working the event tonight, but tonight was too important and the person he would mostly be punishing with that idea would be himself and the other girls on duty who would have to pick up the slack.

  At least all the chaos had made the morning pass quickly and it was now noon. He had a late lunch scheduled with Diamond for one. It couldn’t come fast enough. His business phone rang in his pocket, and he stifled a curse. “Please Lord, save me from dealing with another disaster this morning,” he muttered, digging the phone from his pocket and putting it up to his ear.

  “This is Pax,” he barked, wincing as he listened. “Yup. I’ll be right up.” As he headed to the couture designer boutique shop on the upper level, he prayed that this would be the last thing today for real this time. He should have known. These things always came in threes.

  He took the private service elevators, even though it was a longer walk, hoping that by doing so, he would be able to avoid any more crises coming his way.

  Joanna, a silver haired woman in her fifties, who dressed exclusively in pink every day of her life, came around the counter to greet him as he entered. “Paxxy!” she cooed, kissing the air next to his cheek.

  “Joanna.” He forced a smile, but he wasn’t in the mood for chit chat and pleasantries. He wanted to find out the problem, fix it, and make it to Diamond’s suite in time for a little pre-lunch dessert. “What seems to be the problem?”

  Joanna pouted momentarily, giving in quickly as his mood became appar
ent. “Well, Paxxy,” she began, stubbornly using the pet name she had chosen for him, and insisted on using no matter how many times he had told her not to. “You know that new girl I hired last month? Julia?”

  “Mmhmm. What about her?” Anyone that came into his hotel, even into the shops he didn’t own had to have extensive background checks and be approved by him. Julia had passed with flying colors.

  “Well, I had her cover the front this morning while I did some inventory and pricing in the back room.”

  “Yes,” Pax murmured, wishing she would get to the point, and at the same time bracing himself to hear the worst, fully expecting at this point to spend the rest of his morning talking things out with the cops, providing Joanna with moral support while she filed a report.

  “Well, I guess one of your girls came in here, and bought some of our items we got last month from the celebrity auction.” The shop was well known for its selection of upscale vintage clothing and accessories, sometimes offering specialty items from the wardrobes of American icons such as James Dean, Audrey Hepburn, and Marilyn Monroe—a fact that Joanna took great pride in.

  “Okay.” Pax nodded slowly, not quite seeing where this was going.

  “Well, generally, I just save up all the room charges and send them to you at the end of the month so you can sort it out and make sure nobody went over their quota, but… Julia isn’t aware of how things work around here. She didn’t recognize the room number as belonging to one of the showgirls. I never would have allowed one of them to charge such an amount without running it by you first.” She trailed off, frowning as she rounded the corner and opened the pink cash register, withdrawing a receipt and handing it to him.

  Pax accepted it, doing a double take at the circled amount on the bottom of the receipt. “Holy hell!” He exclaimed. The amount was four times the amount of their monthly allowance quota. “What did they buy?”