Declaration to Submit by Jennifer Leeland Read Free Book Online

clue how to get what she wanted. Not in a way that demanded honesty.
    The problem with corporate success was that it often came from manipulation, from intense planning, and from sticking to procedure. And though Mark had known what scenes he wanted to play out with her from the beginning, she was on the defensive. He had to expect subtle defiance.
    “Stand here. Hands behind your back, please.” He led her to the middle of the sitting room and retrieved his duffel bag. He’d packed a lot, not knowing what Nell’s triggers would be, not knowing what she might need.
    To Mark, being a Dominant wasn’t just giving orders or having control over another person. He wanted her willing, so aroused that she’d surrender. It was Nell’s unshakable control coupled with the glimpse of her vulnerability that appealed to him, spurred him to pursue her.
    One by one, he removed toys from his bag. He was well aware that his collection was intimidating. Six dildos each of varying size. Three floggers, one leather, one rubber strands, and one suede. Three butt plugs and a set of nipple clamps. A vampire glove, the silver pins glittering in the sunlight that peeked through the window. Two paddles, one with holes in the surface, the other with smooth black leather. Two bundles of rope, one thick and rough, the other smooth and soft. One leather slapper, a set of handcuffs, and finally, a blindfold. The last item made Nell shoot him a worried glance, but he placed it next to the other items.
    “Last night, you were inebriated in public at a ConFed event.” Mark hardened his voice and glared at her sternly. He loved the way she trembled. There was something sexy about her trepidation and her reluctant arousal at his strict tone. “Our first order of business is your punishment.”
    She swallowed but remained still. Her fingers twisted together until her knuckles were white. Her feet were bare, and her hair was a riotous mess around her shoulders. Her gaze was on the floor when his attention was on her, but she would sneak a glance at his face when he looked away.
    He turned her so that she faced the couch. “On your knees.”
    Slowly, she sank to her knees, her hands still clasped behind her back. He pressed on her neck until she bent her head to the couch cushion. She turned her head, and her cheek rested on the couch, her hair a fan spread across the surface. “Ass up,” he snapped.
    He had moved the coffee table and slipped in behind her. As he picked up the black leather paddle, he caught her worried stare. “What’s your safe word, Anelda?”
    “Salmon.” Her voice sounded strained.
    “I’m going to spank your ass ten times. I’m not holding back.” He met her stare steadily. “I don’t want you to be quiet or stoic. I want to hear how much it hurts. But if it’s too much, you will say your safe word. Understood?”
    Her lower lip trembled. “Yes, Sir,” she whispered.
    Her smooth, round bottom shook as he brought the paddle back for his first strike. “You have a beautiful ass.” The way her dress hugged the curves of her hips and stretched over her butt made his dick as hard as a rock.
    “Thank you, Sir.” The last word was a screech as he swung hard and the paddle cracked against her butt.
    “Count them,” he demanded.
     
    WHAT THE HELL was wrong with her? She’d told him she only liked pain after an orgasm, but this felt good and bad and right and wrong all at once.
    Her breath hitched. “One.”
    The paddle whistled through the air and slammed into her ass. “Two,” she sobbed. Fuck. It hurt. Her butt was on fire, and her nails dug into her wrists. Yet something warm and sweet spread across her chest, making her nipples hard little points.
    The next three strikes were peppered over her ass quickly, with sharp bites of pain spreading over her thighs. She squirmed to get away from it. “Three, four, five.”
    His hand slid over her aching flesh, and she moaned at his touch. As his fingers crept beneath