Dominic stood behind the bed with his arms folded across his chest, the leather strap held firmly in his hand. He knew he was pissed off, and he was trying not to be pissed off, but the harder he tried not to be, the more pissed off he became. He didn't know if he was pissed off at Tammy, spread across his bed with her chest down, ass in the air, panting like a dog in heat in anticipation of the next blow of the strap, or himself, for being turned on by the strapping he'd just given her.

She was gorgeous. Or at least he was supposed to think that she was gorgeous. He looked with admiration at the ass he'd just striped pink, and her heaving, ample chest on the bed, her mass of thick black curls spilling on the bed around her. He'd fantasized about fisting those curls when he first met her. She was fit, everything in the right place, legs that went on forever, and shit, that girl knew how to move that body. Matteo had picked up a friend of hers, and convinced him that Tammy was the perfect submissive. She was ready for someone to master her, eager to please, and her friend, the one Matteo had spent the night with, had assured him she wasn't one that came with a lot of baggage. She was in it for the kink, liked to be tied up and spanked, and would be eager to please in a bedroom scene.

Oh, she was absolutely in it for the kink. And God, she wanted to please, so bad it made him sick.

And that made him mad. He was mad, because he didn't know why the scene wasn't fulfilling. Wasn't he in it for the kink? And hell, wasn't he looking for someone who was eager to please him?

Making a show of pacing behind her, he tried to calm his anger, but she apparently took the pacing as him intentionally building up anticipation, while she squirmed eagerly. When she tilted her head to the side, he could detect the smallest glimpse of a giddy smile. He was damn glad he'd commanded her into silence, because all she did was twaddle on and on as if she'd gotten her lines from a porn flick.

"Oh, please, master," "My job is to hear and obey, sir," "Harder, please," "I want you to pound into me!" His eyes almost crossed on the last one, and he regretted the decision to not gag her. Gagging wasn't his thing, but he was beginning to see the benefits.

It was getting late. Tired, and despite his mental state, fucking turned on, he needed to bring this scene to an end before he really did lose his temper. He wanted release and a good night's sleep. Coming up behind her, he went through the motions. The strap fell to the floor.

"Stay on your knees," he growled, grateful she was face down and he didn't have to look at her or kiss her. She nodded into the bed, good little submissive that she was, as he took her, telling himself he was pleasing her, fulfilling a mutual base desire. And as he ground into her, he was careful not to hurt her, indulging purely in the carnal desire he had for the girl beneath him, focusing on the curve of her ass and swell of her breasts. Taking a handful of her gorgeous locks in his hand, he pulled her head back, just enough to cause her to moan but not enough to really hurt her, as he truly did want to feel that hair in his hands. He well knew this would be the last night he'd let this girl in his bed, and he might as well get in his kinks while he could.

"Please," she gasped. "Oh my God, let me come!"

Dom didn't even bother slapping her ass for talking, grateful they were almost done already.

"Yes," he spat out, and it came as no surprise that when she finally came, she screamed like a rabid animal.

"Oh my God! Oh my God, yes, yes, yes!" He closed his eyes tightly, focusing on something, anything, that would help put him out of his misery. The softness of the woman beneath him. The memory of the sound of the leather cracking as he swung the strap. She lay limp as he groaned, bracing himself above her, and when he was done, he rolled over onto the bed with abandon. He closed his eyes tightly so he didn't have to see her sex-sated eyes mooning at him.

Doing what any good dom would do, though it came more from trying to appease his guilt than a true concern for her welfare, he showed her where she could clean up, and tossed her a blanket so they could catch some sleep before he kicked her ass out in the morning. No cuddling. It was not uncommon for a dom to set the terms of post-sex protocol, and she could pout, but whatever; he needed some damn shut eye. It was his damn vacation, after all.

For a moment he entertained the thought that maybe he'd luck out and she'd want to hightail it home now, and he could get some sleep alone in his own bed.

No such luck.

She wanted fucking pillow talk.

"I swear to God, that was the best spanking I ever got, and believe me, I've gotten lots of spankings. You are so good. I mean, you've obviously had lots of practice. I was with this one guy who was a Dom, or at least he called himself a Dom. Seriously, the guy was all slap slap slap and I didn't even feel it, plus he didn't say a thing and just stood there like a—"

"Tammy," he interrupted, eyes shut tight, forearm slung over his face.

"Yes?" he heard her ask.

"I don't want to talk right now. Let's get some sleep."

She sighed. "I was just trying to tell you that you were really good," she said in a whiny voice that had suddenly risen several octaves. He opened his eyes. Her lower lip stuck out and his stomach twisted at the pathetic, fabricated puppy-dog eyes she was giving him. Maybe she wasn't eager to please. Apparently, that was just a show in bed. Figured.

"Thanks," he said with forced politeness. The quicker he pacified her, the quicker she'd go the hell to sleep and so, theoretically, would he.

"I've been with lots of other Doms," she prattled on, "and really, you are amazing. Like, top of the line. I think next time, I want to—"

The phrase 'next time' sent him bolt upright. He glared as she stared at his bare chest, and the definition in his abs, his sideways posture giving her a prime view. To his horror, she reached a finger out and caressed the top of his shaved head and continued to trace it down to the scruff of his beard.

"And oh my God, I swear, you look like an amped-up, sexified version of Mr. Clean or something. I've never been with a Dom with a shaved head before and I—"

"Tammy!" he spat out through gritted teeth, using what little remained of his self-control to remove her adoring fingers from his head and place them deliberately on the bed. "Mr. Clean is bald. I'm not bald. And I mean it."

"What?" she said, the sing-song tone of her voice gone now, as her lip went out again.

"No talk. Sleep."

She glared.

But two could play this game, and fortunately, he had the upper hand.

Narrowing his eyes, he gave her 'the look', the look he used at school to convey to his students without words that there'd be hell to pay if they didn't shape up.

She huffed.

"Lay down," he ordered in a low, stern voice. "Roll over. And go to sleep."

"I can't just go to sleep!" she protested. "Just wham, bam, go to sleep ma'am?"

Hanging onto his temper with the last shred of self-control he had, he deliberately inhaled. "Do you really want another spanking?" he asked.

Her eyes widened, then gleamed. "Well, I didn't know you'd be ready that soon, but if you really—"

His temper snapped.

"You say you've been with lots of Doms? Let me ask you this."

She leaned in, eyes wide but a bit apprehensive. "Um, yes. And yes?"

He lowered his voice to just above menacing. "Have any of them ever given you a real spanking? One that didn't end in sex? A good, hard spanking that teaches you to behave yourself and obey?"

She blinked, frowning.

"Well. No," she said.

"Do you want tonight to be the first time?" he continued in a low whisper.

"No," she whispered back.

"Then go to sleep."

She frowned. "Fine," she muttered, and to his relief, she rolled over on her side, away from him, and pulled the blanket up over her shoulder. Despite her insistence that she wasn't tired, within minutes he heard light, whiffling snores. He sighed with relief and fell back on his own pillows, willing himself to sleep. He tried to relax, focusing on the soft, fluttering curtains at his window, the night air—

He sat upright.

Fluttering curtains? Night air?

He leapt out of bed.

Holy shit! She did not!

He spun on his heel and glared at the sleeping form on his bed. The only thing preventing him from waking her ass up, hauling her out of bed, and delivering that 'real' spanking he'd threatened, was the knowledge that she would be awake again, not asleep, and, therefore, delay his plan in getting her out of his house.

He'd told her very clearly to shut and lock the window, as he'd made sure his front door was locked.

She'd disobeyed him. He knew her friend had mentioned Tammy was a bit of an exhibitionist, but… shit! How had he not realized she'd left those windows open on purpose? With a stifled groan, he peeked under the curtains, as if he could tell by looking out his window if anyone had heard anything. No one was out there, of course, but with the row of windows across from him… God, if anyone he worked with ever found out—professionals at his rank did not pick up girls at kink clubs—and just after the scandal, too, when the board was just itching for a chance to clean up their reputation.

He sighed, as he shut the window and locked it. Nothing he could do about it now.

With a final glare at Tammy, he yanked his pillow and a blanket off the bed, and marched off to his living room to sleep on the couch.