Locked (The Alpha Group 1)

"I'm sorry that I interrupted you."

"We've worked on this before," he said, starting to pace once more. "It's not your position to decide who I can and can't talk to. That's not part of our deal."

She nodded quickly. "I know, sir. I'm sorry."

I shifted uncomfortably. I didn't understand. Hannah was a grown woman, and Sebastian's employee, but she was being chastised as though she was a child.

"Unfortunately Hannah, sorry isn't good enough. You know the rules. What do we do with girls that misbehave?"

Hannah stared at him, wide-eyed, clearly dreading answering the question. "We punish them," she squeaked eventually.

"Indeed."

Oh my god. No wonder their relationship had seemed strange. I wasn't so naive as to not be familiar with BDSM, but I'd always thought of it as a niche fetish, something relegated to kinky underground sex clubs and the odd upper middle class basement. Truthfully, the whole idea seemed vaguely ridiculous. What kind of self-respecting woman gave up control of herself to her partner? It defied all logic. But crouched in that cupboard, watching Sebastian display such visceral control, I felt a small tingle of excitement. Part of me wanted to know what happened next.

He gazed at Hannah for several seconds. "I think it will be the black paddle today." She whimpered. "Go on now," he continued, "you know what to do."

I watched, mesmerised, as Hannah headed slowly over to the wall, opened up a small and rather cleverly hidden cupboard, and withdrew a long leather paddle. My mouth went dry at the sight of it. It was a scary looking implement about two feet long, and coated length to tip in rough, black leather. It seemed out of place given the class and sophistication of our surroundings.

I suppressed a morbid laugh as Sebastian's comment from before finally clicked. "We'll find time for a paddle later."

With the object in hand, Hannah hesitated momentarily.

"Bring it to me," said Sebastian, who had removed his jacket and began to roll up his sleeves. His arms were long and lean, but layered with taut ropes of muscle, like those of a professional tennis player.

Hannah sucked in a deep breath. For a second, I thought she was going to resist, but after steeling herself, she marched dutifully back across the room and placed the paddle in Sebastian's fingers. He swished it through the air a few times, testing the weight of it. "Perfect. Now, present yourself for me."

Trembling, she bent over the leather armrest of the sofa. I was shocked that she was being so compliant, but on some level, I understood. The authority radiating from Sebastian now was almost palpable; a singular force of relentless will. Everything about him spoke of man in utter control; from the weight of his voice to the certainty in his eyes to the measured purposefulness of his movements. There was no doubt in his mind that Hannah would give him what he wanted, and as much as I hated to admit it, I found that determination incredibly arousing.

Sebastian growled in appreciation as he peeled Hannah's skirt back, exposing her naked ass to the air. "It frustrates me that we have to keep doing this," he said, reaching out to cup one cheek, "but I suppose it does have its advantages."

Hannah shifted, drawing in sharp little breaths while he caressed her roughly. As I watched, I found myself wondering what his touch would feel like on my body. His hands looked so strong, and there was something so possessive about the way he stroked her.

"Are you ready for your punishment?" Sebastian asked.

"Yes sir."

"Good."

I wasn't sure what to expect next. It seemed like there should be some kind of preamble, but instead, Sebastian simply whipped the paddle back and brought it crashing down into Hannah's ass.

"One. Thank you, sir," Hannah said through gritted teeth. He spanked again. "Two. Thank you, sir."

God, she even has to thank him. That's one thing you'd never catch me doing.

...or any of this other stuff either.

Jesus Sophia.

Clearly Sebastian was an experienced practitioner. He truly looked in his element now. Every gesture was graceful and precise, and with every stroke, his body flexed and bulged. I hadn't thought it possible, but somehow the situation made him look even more attractive. I felt the unmistakable throb of desire pulsing between my legs.

A glance at Hannah told me I wasn't the only one enjoying myself. Sebastian was so powerful, and every blow looked more excruciating than the last, but as he settled into his rhythm, the shock on her face gradually melted away, replaced with something I could only describe as a kind of pained ecstasy.

Watching her take pleasure in being punished was confronting, but also strangely exciting. The dynamic between them was so raw and so intense that I could practically taste it in the air. I shifted uncomfortably, desperately willing my arousal away, but all I succeeded in doing was knocking a suit off the bar behind me. I caught it with an outstretched hand, but the damage had already been done. In an instant the closet door was flung open and I was once again pinned in place by that penetrating gaze.

Sebastian stared at me for several seconds. I saw him reacting a hundred different ways in my head, but eventually he surprised me by breaking into a laugh. "Well, well, well. Sophia. We did say we might see each other again, but I hadn't expected it to be quite like this." Strangely, he didn't seem surprised, just amused.

I gazed up at him with gaping eyes, blushing furiously. I didn't know what I could possibly say. The whole situation had gotten way out of hand. I briefly debated trying to talk my way out, but judging by the twinkle in his eye, the time for that had passed.

So I did the only thing I could think of.

I ran.

I leapt out of the cupboard and bolted for the hallway. He probably could have stopped me if he'd wanted — the gap between his leg and the cupboard door wasn't very large — but he didn't move, he just watched me, a curious smile on his face.

Before I knew it, I was in the corridor, and then the main room. The guests all stared as I tore across the wooden floor, but I ignored them. All I cared about was getting somewhere safe. Every part of me felt frayed, confused, agitated.

At some point, it occurred to me that I'd left my shoes behind. Just like Cinderella, I thought. Although I'm not sure if the story traditionally contains quite so much masochism.

For some reason, that thought struck me as perversely funny. I began to laugh as I ran. By the time I broke through into the bar's main room, I was cackling like a street corner drunk.

I was certain someone would be chasing me, but there were no signs of pursuit. Even the door guard was mysteriously absent.