His Judgement Read online

He listened to her as she spun a tale of power. She was indeed the formidable woman he’d come to know and care about. When he finished the conversation, he was no longer afraid of what Michael Trent could do. Tonight, he could forget the other man, as well as his concerns. Tonight, he was merely a Dom. Darkness crept into his mind, a tasty and burning desire fueled by the very thought of a vibrant blonde.

  Sighing, he tapped his fingers against the window. How much he was going to tell Joelle about his real life he wasn’t certain. He took another sip before checking his watch. The time was five after seven. A hint of disappointment, bridging anger rushed into his system. How dare she be late? Strict discipline was needed. He rubbed his temples, soothing his beast. He was unraveling to the point he wasn’t certain he’d maintain needed control.

  Seconds later he heard her light knock. He waited for a full minute before walking to the door.

  “You’re late.”

  Joelle swallowed hard. “I’m sorry. Traffic.”

  “I don’t care. You’ll soon learn being tardy will bring you severe punishment.” Craze pulled her inside and against him. “Obedience I demand.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He yanked back his frustration. She would learn the rules soon enough. “You look amazing.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Joelle half smiled.

  “But that doesn’t excuse your late arrival.”

  She bit her lip. “I know. I was running late, working and I lost track of time. No excuse. Time just rushed by today.”

  Craze exhaled as he studied her. The once powerful vixen seemed demure tonight, resigned to the fact she was going to be punished. After closing and locking the door, he turned to face her, remaining quiet for a full minute. “We all have requirements in our lives, duties. Right now, your duty is to serve me. Understood?”

  “I want nothing more, sir.”

  “I want to get to know you, enjoy dinner.”

  Her look was one of relief.

  “Let’s get your punishment over with so we can enjoy the rest of our evening.”

  “Sir, I…” Joelle fidgeted, dropping her purse.

  “Once I punish you the incident is over. Is that understood?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The look of heated anticipation was exhilarating. “Remove your dress. I assume you followed my directions?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Good girl.” Craze walked toward the couch, picking up the quirt. He turned and showed her what he held in his hand. “This is used to control horses. This will be used to whip your ass and legs. Are you wearing your plug?”

  “Yes. I do try to obey you,” she whispered as she walked further into the room. Her eyes flashed, showing her willful side.

  “Then I suggest you undress or I’ll add ten more to the twenty you’re going to receive.” He’d calculated what he thought she could handle. The session would stretch her trust as well as her desire.

  Shivering, Joelle closed her eyes and slowly removed her dress.

  There was something so incredible about her naked luscious curves, her hourglass figure. He could tell she remained embarrassed about her body, as if no man had ever taken the time to expound on her beauty. She was such an assertive woman by day and a girl who needed a strong man by night. “Come. Lean over the back of the chair.”

  She nodded and kept her eyes lowered as she moved past him, leaning over the soft leather.

  “Show me your plug.”

  Dropping her head, she used both hands to open her ass cheeks.

  The bright red rubber end was exposed easily. Craze smiled, his heart racing. She belongs to you. Dear God, his head was spinning. “Good girl.” He fingered the leather before walking behind her. He rubbed her back, his fingers working delicately until her breathing slowed. “This will hurt, but you’re going to maintain your position. Am I clear?”

  “Very, sir.”

  “All women need a firm hand, you included. When you relinquish control, you regain what you lost a long time ago.” In his element, he heard the crisp sound of his voice, the stern and very commanding tone. She required no less.

  Crack!

  “Oh!” Biting back a scream, she dug her nails into the top of the chair as she reared up.

  “Position.”

  Pop! Whap!

  “Fuck… I…” Joelle moaned, her entire body shaking. “I just…”

  He peppered four more strikes, catching the top of her thighs. He’d practiced, knew his strength and had developed a technique. This wasn’t by any means a harsh punishment. Salivating, he retreated for a moment, the need to issue harsh strikes catching him off guard. She wasn’t used to this and she required time, trust. Careful. Be careful.

  Crack! Crack! Slap!

  With each snap of his wrist, he watched her reaction, stopping after a few to soothe the woman he cared about. The thought riveting, he wiped sweat from his forehead and continued.

  Joelle whined, pushing back from the chair. “I’m sorry, sir. I…” Breathless, she stumbled forward, throwing herself over the top.

  In the dim lighting, he was able to see tears slipping past her lashes. The man inside slammed against the sadist, and for a few seconds he was blinded, unsure of what to do. Use her. Fuck her. Use her. Beat her. He clenched his fist, gritting his teeth. Sweat rolled down his back. “A few more. You’re doing well.”

  Crack!

  Barely two minutes later he was done. Done. He wanted to issue more. God help me.

  “Oh.” Joelle whimpered softly.

  Standing back, Craze eyed the quirt, panting as he squeezed the handle.

  She slumped down, her whimpers subdued.

  Craze carefully placed the implement on the coffee table and gathered her into his arms. “You did so well.” Holding her forehead, he eased her head back against his chest. “Very well, indeed.” His heart was beating as fast as hers and he kissed the side of her face, licking away several tears.

  She clung to him, sucking in her breath as she continued to shake.

  Craze smoothed down her hair and hummed, the timbre husky as desire remained high. She succumbed to his touch as he cradled her, nuzzling against his chest.

  Joelle fingered his shirt, drawing aimless stick figures as she stopped crying.

  He waited until her breathing was even before he spoke. “Come and sit down with me. I’ll pour you a glass of wine. It’s all over now. No more tonight.”

  Sniffing, she nodded as she was led to the couch. She sat down gingerly, folding her legs under her. She winced, giving him a weak smile. “Thank you, sir.”

  “You’re welcome.” A euphoric high swept through every inch of him and as he walked toward the open bottle, he took a moment to control his breathing. His reaction was unexpected. This was unlike the other nights. This was pure punishment, total control.

  And she wanted more.

  Craze poured a glass, reflecting on how they met, and prayed their connection was more than just physical. Everything about this was reckless. “I think you’ll like the wine.”

  “I’m sure I will, sir.” She accepted, giving him a waning smile, and took a sip. “Mmm.”

  “Excellent. This is one of the wines I fell in love with the last time I went to my favorite vineyard.”

  “You’re a wine lover?”

  “Very much so,” he laughed as he sat down. “I enjoy all things beautiful, full of flavor.” Taking her hand, he kissed her fingers one at a time, savoring the way she relaxed, her shoulders less tense.

  “A complex man, my sir.”

  “As you are a woman.” Craze adored the way she called him ‘sir’. The word was much more natural, easily whispered from her lips.

  She exhaled and shook her head. “You’re right. I think everyone has various sides.”

  “Ones we’re terrified to show.”

  “So true. You’re a painter by hobby. What do you do as a profession, sir?”

  He sighed and continued fingering her hand. “Let’s j
ust say I keep the peace.”

  “Interesting. So do I, in a way.” Her laugh was genuine, yet her eyes darted back and forth across his face.

  “Hmmm. I’d say you were a cop, but the suit I met you in suggests otherwise.” He knew Joelle was searching for more, digging. This was her true nature.

  “And I’d say you were a construction worker, but your hands are those of an artist, my sir.”

  Craze lifted his glass. “Nicely done. You sound like an attorney.” He noticed the flash in her eyes and wanted to get to know every inch of the lovely lady.

  “Why do you say that, sir?”

  “Because you have a way about you, observant while keeping a distance.”

  Joelle laughed. “I could say that about you as well, sir.”

  “You are a very good observer.” He gave her a look.

  Shrugging, she remained silent.

  “So, we’re at an impasse.”

  “For now. I do want to tell you about me, just not yet. Can we leave this as a fantasy for a little while, sir?”

  He leaned over until he was barely an inch from her face. “For now. Owning a woman means I need to get to know her, all of her, inside and out. I need to hear about your deepest fears as well as your longings.”

  “Why? I mean, why, sir?”

  “Why?”

  “Why the need?” Joelle asked, her lower lip quivering.

  “Because this is the man inside, a part of who I am.”

  “One no others are allowed to see, sir?”

  Nodding, he sat back and grabbed his drink. He wasn’t surprised she’d been able to see through his mask and he certainly hadn’t left clues, merely opened his padlocked door a crack. “You’re right. I scare them away. For some reason women can’t understand a man being in charge, his desire to command not only the boardroom but his entire life.”

  “Equality of the sexes.” The way she said the words was much more pointed.

  Craze nodded. “Exactly. We all fear what we’re unaccustomed to. Few of us can take a leap of faith after our twenties. We’re set in our ways, worried about what others will think, no matter how we hunger.” A few seconds passed and he studied her face, her mind processing every syllable, every word, and was more intrigued than ever.

  “Then why me, sir?”

  “Why you?”

  “Why did you take a chance on a woman you don’t know when you’ve been very good at hiding your entire life?”

  Inhaling her sweet scent, he brushed a stray strand of hair from her face as he thought about his answer. “Because you’ve known me all your life.”

  Joelle furrowed her brow, a frown on her face. She looked down for a few seconds and when she lifted her head she nodded once. “As you’ve known me. Ownership. You’re serious, sir?”

  “Yes. Complete submission.” The single shiver told him many aspects about the lovely woman including she wanted him to push. Cupping her chin, he squeezed, her single moan telling. “Total domination of you without any question. You will be mine.”

  Chapter 8

  You will be mine. Shivering, the words lingered in the back of Joelle’s mind and had been since the night he’d issued them. He’d stated the words before, but this time they held more of a desperate need, a true telling of his requirement. She stood in front of her bathroom mirror, glaring at her reflection. “Craze.” Just saying his name out loud was intense enough. Her body reacted to every thought, every memory, keeping her hot and wet, her mind befuddled. Today she simply couldn’t afford to be anything but spot on. She’d worked too hard on the case. The illustrious Mr. Martin was going to be convicted of murder. Period.

  Her thoughts drifted to Craze once again, the last conversation they’d had. She’d wondered more than once what he did for a living. She’d deduced he was a professional, an engineer or accountant. No, he had far too much flair and imagination to be an accountant. What if he was also an attorney? Gripping the counter, she exhaled slowly, her instinct kicking in. His face. She had seen him before, maybe. But where? “Oh, no fucking way.” She had zero time to contemplate the possibilities.

  Why the hell hadn’t she required him to give her his real name? The same reason you didn’t give him yours. “Ugh.” A quick glance at her phone and she couldn’t help but wonder where he was, what he was doing. They’d kept in contact, but she purposely had pushed him off, giving her work schedule as an excuse. Granted, she’d told him everywhere she’d gone. His texts had been short and to the point

  Are you wearing your plug?

  Are you being a good girl?

  Fuck your ass tonight with a large dildo, going very deep.

  No playing with my pussy.

  The words always gave her a thrill, a deep tingling in her pussy. A good girl? She was anything but, and longing to have another session with him. Her ass had healed from the last spanking and she craved another, one much harder. A bead of perspiration trickled down the side of her face. Swallowing hard, she closed her eyes, remembering the way he’d touched her, the way his firm grip gave her such a freeing feeling. The last time he’d fucked her, a surprise in the shower, he’d been rougher than before, bending her over and thrusting his cock into her asshole.

  The pain had been blinding and incredible. Joelle wiped the salty drip away and leaned over panting. She could still hear her moans as he pumped his dick in and out, unrelenting, his balls slapping against her bruised ass. She gripped the sides of the counter, jutting her hips out as she imagined him lifting her skirt, slapping her ass over and over again.

  You belong to me.

  You’re mine.

  No other man will touch you.

  The words remained as a reminder. Lifting her head, she unbuttoned her blouse, exposing the top of her right breast. The bite mark remained. He’d drawn blood, sucking the wound as well as her nipple as he thrust his cock into her pussy. Shivering, she had no idea why she was so attracted to the intense and very mysterious stranger, but their electricity was increasing.

  Joelle exhaled and fingered the mark before pushed the top of her bra past her nipple. Another bite remained around her rosy bud, another placed on her left. Along with the belt marks that had faded, he’d certainly marked his territory.

  After the trial there was no holding back. She was going to call him, beg him to fuck her. The realization was startling. After a few more seconds she buttoned her blouse and rose to her full height. Today, she was an attorney.

  Exhaling, she counted to ten and fell into the role. She had everything she needed to win this case, absolutely everything. Now, she just needed to put all the pieces together.

  She gave herself a reflective nod and glanced at her attire. The suit was just an off shade of red, enough so the piece wasn’t glaring, but certainly powerful. Everyone in the courtroom was going to know she was taking command. There was enough bad press already, so today was all about being as cool as a cucumber.

  “You can do this.” Winking, she pointed her index finger. “You will do this. Your entire team is counting on you.” She took a step back, smoothing down her skirt, giving herself a final nod of approval before heading out of the bathroom. A cold shiver trickled down her spine. Her instinct terrified her. What if he was a second defense attorney? She’d been told there was a team. Jesus Christ. What if? If this were the case, she’d deal with the ugliness then. There was nothing she could do now. She was going to have a tough enough time working against the diligent but vile Mr. Brentwood.

  She gripped the sink, not surprised she heard her cell phone once again. Gregory had called her twice more, the last call almost disgusting in nature.

  “If you don’t return my calls, I’m going to crucify you in court, but there are some things you need to know. I’ve followed you. I know what you’re up to. You will burn.”

  The nasty words remained furrowed in Joelle’s mind. What in the hell did Gregory think he knew? She grabbed the phone, ready to give the asshole a defining moment in his career. Seeing Miranda
’s number pop up, she frowned. Her bestie knew exactly what was on the line today. Interruptions she loathed. “Miranda. Are you okay?”

  “I know you’re headed into court, but there’s something you need to know.”

  “What? About the case?” Joelle asked as she studied her lipstick.

  “Not exactly. Craze. The name kept rolling around in my mind,” Miranda said, her words rushed.

  “And?”

  Miranda huffed. “I’ve figured out who he is and you’re not going to believe it.”

  Thirty minutes later Joelle stood outside the courtroom. She remained nervous as well as curious to see if her instincts were right and if Miranda was out of her mind. This wasn’t what she’d expected to hear but the information fit the man, confirming her suspicions. She’d concocted her own puzzle, adding Gregory’s supposed scandalous information into the mix. Still, she was fumbling to put the damning bits into a box to deal with later, but could she? That was the problem. If the truth had been uncovered, she had a tough decision to make. Tough? This might be career defining. Right now, she wanted to crush Gregory like a bug.

  There was a chance she’d have to recuse herself from the case, allow another attorney to prosecute. Then again, how and what would she tell her boss? She’d insisted she didn’t need any help, abhorred showing up with a full team. Weakness. That’s what she thought several people showed. “Shit.” She glanced at her watch. Stalling wasn’t in her nature. Time to go in and face whatever would come.

  Sucking in her breath she opened the door and walked inside. The courtroom was packed. Thank God, reporters weren’t allowed. On the drive over she’d received two calls from Betsy, warning her of her heightened notoriety. The Press continued to use the phrase ‘Come Back Kid’. When this was over, she was going to draft a nasty rebuttal.

  She made a beeline for her seat, judiciously easing her files on top of the table. No need to appear ruffled. After scanning the courtroom, and seeing no one she recognized, she breathed a sigh of relief.

  You can do this.

  She placed her phone on the table, fingering the screen. Just then a text popped in.