by Nicole Fox
I gently push at the back of her head, making her move faster. She hasn’t stopped looking at me. The connection between us is electric. If I weren’t trying to prove a point, I’d be ten inches into her pussy by now.
“You can do better than this, love,” I say, cocking my head.
I pull her head back now, and start to thrust.
Chapter Five
Tanner
I fight back the urge to gag, at first. I’ve never done this before and while I’m totally freaked out to be doing it on the front steps of a mansion, with Kit and a dozen other guys watching, I’m more worried I’m not doing it right.
I close my eyes to stay in the moment. He moves my head back and forth at a pace he likes, controlling me. I take his cues and listen to his commands because, at baseline, I want to make him happy. I want to make him feel good because if he feels good, then it’s really me who has the control, right?
I mean, I know I should be embarrassed or angry. To be put in this position of vulnerability, to be debased like this, it’s disrespectful. And confusing, I guess, since he’s obviously tried to stop anything sexual between us up to now. But I’m not mad or embarrassed at all. In fact, I feel a deep, deep want unfurl in my core, a desire to go further, to be closer. This is turning me on.
When he tips my head back and thrusts, I have to force my throat to stay open, to take the length of him. I hear moaning and realize it’s coming from me, from deep inside my throat as I take all of him. I work my tongue along the shaft as he picks up the pace.
“That’s it, baby. Take all of it,” he says. It’s barely a whisper, an encouragement just for me, he says. “Just a little longer.”
I open my eyes and his gaze is right there. It’s dark and hungry and focused. It’s like we’re alone. He wants this. He likes it. And I want to feel him come for me.
He doesn’t break our connection, just stays totally focused on me, giving me soft words of encouragement until I feel the salty release start to slide down my throat. I swallow, and when he’s fully spent, he withdraws, tucks himself back into his jeans, and holds a hand out to help me up.
He pulls me in front of him then and meets the eyes of Kit and the other Grave Robbers, who watch with varied expressions. Two of the guys are sporting active wood. Kit, however, looks revolted, his mouth turned down in a deep grimace.
Griz reaches around, one hand snaking up under the hem of my dress and to my inner thighs, pushing away my panties, slipping a finger into my folds. I’m surprised once more to find myself wet for him. Drenched, in fact, and as his lips meet my ear he says, “Good girl.”
My hips move forward ever so slightly, pushing into his touch. He chuckles a bit, splaying his other hand over my dress-covered breast, pinching at the nipple underneath. His fingers find my clit and he strums it like a guitar string. I lean back into him, wanting nothing more than for him to play me straight to the edge.
“Sorry, Kit,” Griz says. “As you can see, this young thing has been well and fully claimed. She’s mine, and she’s not going anywhere with you.”
Kit starts to step forward, his hands in tight balls at his sides, but thinks better of it when a third gun ends up pointed at him. These four guys are outnumbered. There’s no way he can fight for me and get out of here unscathed.
He puts his hands back up in surrender. His eyes meet mine and I’m surprised to be able to hold his gaze long enough that it’s he who looks away first. He scowls and says, “We’ll go quietly. We’ll let Draven know that his daughter is sucking cock on your doorstep like a common whore. That should go over real well.”
“Great,” Griz says, his fingers still working my clit, his tone slightly bored. “We’ll be here. Probably naked. Show up again and we’ll blow your heads off.”
Spike makes a hand motion and several of Griz’ men flank the Grave Robbers, walking them to the front gate. As they disappear, Griz lets go of me and I feel disappointed, somehow. I mean, what did I expect? He had me blow him in front of an audience as a power play. This whole thing was for show to piss off Kit, to send a message to my father. But it felt like something more. I’m inexperienced, but I know what sexual chemistry is and we have it.
He walks me back inside, and I look at the floor. Whoever that woman was—the one who got wet sucking a guy off in public—she’s gone now. I feel used and ashamed. But also … wanting. I still feel his hands on me. I still taste him in my mouth. I still want him.
I don’t know how to feel. I guess that’s how he wants it.
# # #
Griz
Fuck. That was not how I wanted that to go. I wanted Tanner to stay inside. I wanted Kit and his men to leave unsure of whether she was here or not. Then I could have toyed with them, worked more of an angle.
But fucking Spike, hopped up on whatever, had to bring her out and force my hand. When we say we’ve laid claim to someone, we need to mean it. And I’ve played Mr. Nice Guy with this woman for long enough.
We head into the bedroom. I shut the door and order her to shower. She starts to protest, but when she sees whatever sour expression I’m sporting, she shuts her trap. She starts the water, undresses, and gets inside.
I watch her through the glass door like some creep. She doesn’t seem to mind, though, as she makes a show of soaping her body, spending a good amount of time between her legs and over her taut nipples.
She’s got a beautiful body, this Tanner Williams. I think she’s only just beginning to discover the power she could wield with it, too. As I watch, my cock strains against the confines of my jeans. I cross my arms over my chest and assume a position of power. I will not lose control with this girl. She means less than nothing to me, which means I can control my fucking self.
She steps out and the water slides over her skin. She dries off and then heads to the sink to clean her teeth and brush her hair. She stays naked for this whole rigmarole, as if she’s trying to drive me crazy. It’s kind of working, though I refuse to let any part of me show it. Even the part that has a mind of its own.
Once she’s satisfied, she turns. “What now?” she asks.
I can’t take my eyes off of her beautiful lips, lips that just sucked me dry. I stare at them a long time, savoring the moment when she licks her bottom lip before sucking it into her mouth, a sure sign of nervousness in spite of her best efforts to look calm and confident.
“I’ll ask the kitchen to make us some dinner,” I say. “There’s a black dress in the bag I sent. Put it on. “
She obeys and I make a mental note that she might be fun to play Dom and Sub with later, watching as she pulls on the slinky black dress and nothing else. She leaves her hair wet but twists it into a braid that falls over one shoulder, tying it with one of Shannon’s pink hair ties.
I lead her to the dining room, which has been cleared of other club members and set just for us. Chef comes out as soon as we arrive, explaining the menu and asking Tanner if there are any dietary restrictions she should know about. Tanner says no, and we’re presented with a bottle of wine.
“Are you even old enough to drink?” I ask.
“Yes, but I don’t drink much,” she says. “I’m twenty-three, by the way.”
“Ah,” I say.
“How old are you?” she asks, sipping her wine. Her eyebrows shoot up into her hairline, a pleased smile on her face as she takes another sip. “That was better than I expected it to be.”
Her obvious pleasure and pleasant surprise make my cock twitch again. I take a drink from my own glass and then say, “Twenty-nine.”
“Young to run a club,” she says, picking at a piece of bread nervously.
“I guess,” I say. “It’s a lot of headache.”
“Why do you do it?”
“Because I was asked to follow someone else’s lead but that never felt right. I had my own ideas about how a club should run. so I built what I wanted. And I’m a stubborn son-of-a-bitch when I put my mind to something.”
She nods and lo
oks around the room. “Yes, I’ve noticed that,” she says.
A staff member comes in and delivers a soup course. She waits for me to take my first bite before she digs into hers. When she takes her first sip, her eyes close and her lips curl as a soft sound of satisfaction escapes her lips.
“Kit is in love with you,” I state.
She opens her eyes. “He wanted to claim me for himself. That was jealousy, not love.”
I tilt my head in question.
“He’s offered to marry me several times. My father hasn’t said no, so Kit takes it as a yes,” she says. “In all honesty, he’s’ nearly old enough to be my dad and it creeps me out.”
I consider this as we eat. So Kit came because he really did plan to be the valiant knight who would save the princess. He thought if he could retrieve Tanner and deliver her home safely, Draven would reward her to him as a prize. It’s kind of pathetic, really, but I get his motivation. All clubs are political. Kit would want to set himself an easy path to leadership, ready to step right in once Draven steps down or croaks.
“He wasn’t even supposed to see you,” I say. “I intended to leave him guessing.”
“Well, he saw me,” she says, her cheeks darkening beautifully as she blushes. “A lot of me.”
“You did well,” I say.
“You act like I helped you close a business deal,” she says.
“In a way, you did,” he says.
“I can’t see how having me blow you in full view of all those people did anything other than enrage Kit, which will enrage my father.”
I lean onto one elbow, my hand over my mouth. I’m not going to explain myself to this girl.
She waits for me to talk, and when I don’t, she sits back in her seat with a huff. “I’m not some whore, you know.”
“Never said you were,” I answer.
“You treated me like one,” she says.
“It was a political move, nothing more.” I answer. “And you don’t get to make the rules.”
“Why, because I’m your prisoner? Or was I supposed to be a guest? I’m just not sure there’s a difference.”
“Does your father let you talk to him that way?” I ask.
“What way?” she asks, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Disrespectfully.”
She opens her mouth and then shuts it. Takes a swig of her wine. Leans forward. “Seems like I can say whatever the fuck I want, since I’m the one being pawned like a game piece. You need me, and you can’t get whatever it is you want if I’m harmed.”
“There are many ways to hurt someone, Tanner,” I say. “I’d be careful if I were you.”
# # #
Tanner
I’m pissing him off; I know I am. But I feel like this is an act he puts on, this asshole you-need-to-respect-me bullshit.
Fact is, I’d rather give two hundred public blowjobs than go back and marry Kit. I don’t need Griz to know that, but that’s how I feel. Mostly. I’m still kind of mortified about having to do that in front of my dad’s guys. I’m also weirded out about how much I liked it. But if I really want to keep it simple, I felt really stifled in my dad’s overprotective world. I wanted to get out, and Spike offered me the opportunity to do just that. So the more Griz does to keep me out of Kit’s hands, the better. I’m sure that makes me sound nuts, but there you have it.
I stand up and wander around the table to where Griz sits. He’s still in his club colors, still dressed in head-to-toe black. I stand in front of him as he stares up at me, face like stone, showing nothing. His jaw twitches like he’s annoyed.
I climb onto his lap, straddling him. I’m not wearing any underwear, so my bare pussy rubs against the thick material of his jeans. I’m so wet already; this small little thing nearly sends me over the edge. Our eyes lock as I put my hands in his wavy hair, rubbing against him.
As I lean in to kiss him, he turns away. I try not to feel rejected. I shouldn’t feel rejected, because his massive cock is hard between my legs, indicating that he’s responding just the way I want. But kissing is an intimacy, and his refusal to lock lips with me only means that he doesn’t yet think of me as anyone worth connecting with on that level.
Oh, well, I’ll just settle for running my tongue and lips along his neck. My hands rest on his shoulders; I work one down his chest, across his abs, over the hardness of his cock. All while I rock against him, the wetness and want growing.
“I could come like this,” I breathe into his ear.
He picks me up as he stands, his big hands on my bare ass, and lays me on a nearby, empty table. He keeps our hips connected as he rips at my dress, exposing my tits. His mouth is on them in an instant, breath hot against my pebbled nipples. He sucks and bites and I feel like I might combust. My hips rise, still moving against his covered erection.
He works my tits as I dry hump him like some teen in a basement. When I come, I’m shocked. I cry out and he covers my mouth with his hand.
“Chef will think you don’t like the food,” he says, his eyebrows arching just once, playfully, a remarkably endearing thing from such a serious man.
He pulls my dress back up, covering my breasts once more, but leaves my pussy exposed, my legs open for him as I lie on the table.
“One taste,” he says, holding up an index finger as he leans in, his bearded face between my legs.
As his tongue slides along my folds, I nearly melt. But before I can really enjoy the sensation, he pulls away, helping me upright, pulling my dress down, leading my back to my chair.
When Chef brings our next course, there’s no sign that we’ve just engaged in one very weird make-out session. She places our salads in front of us and we compliment her on the soup.
My abdomen is heavy with want. I can hardly eat for being so aroused. I keep watching Griz for some sign that this will continue after dinner, but he’s stoic as always. I want to scream from frustration.
“Why this multi-course dinner like we’re on a date?” I ask after spending two courses in silence. Chef has just brought out a bowl of chocolate mousse and I damn near might have another orgasm from the sheer deliciousness.
“I thought you deserved a reward for your performance out there.”
“So you force me to suck you off, then you placate me with food?” I ask.
“Did you feel forced?” he asked. “Think about it and let me know.”
“I … I mean … you did order me to do it,” I say.
“Did you like it?” he asks.
“That’s irrelevant,” I answer.
“It’s not.”
I grind my teeth together. This man is beyond frustrating.
“Did you like it?” he asks again.
I bite the inside of my lip and let a breath out through my nose. “Yes. Yes, I liked it. I liked it more than I’d like to admit, but there you go. But just because I liked it doesn’t mean I consented to doing it.”
He sits back in his chair, his eyelids heavy. I don’t know if this is from all the wine he’s had, or from the orgasm he gave me, or from the memory of my mouth on his cock, but it’s a sexy look for him. One that makes me want to go for round two—crowd of onlookers or not.
I want him to tell me he liked it, too. That he wants me. That he’ll claim me for real now.
But he doesn’t. He stands and says one of his guys will escort me back to the room.
And then he leaves.
# # #
Griz
Feeling that girl come just from that little interaction was almost my undoing. It took literally every ounce of self-control I have to stop myself from jamming my cock straight into her smooth wet pussy.
As I wander around the club property, I interact with a few of my guys, thankful for the distraction. A few share updates on deals; one shows me a picture of his old lady and their new baby. It makes me think of Shannon as a baby, of myself as a young, single, grieving father.
I have to leave quickly, patting him on the back and promisi
ng him a congratulatory cigar. But I need to get away because these are the moments when it’s the worst. It’s these in-between moments, when the hallways are quiet and the guys have a minute to share their lives, that I think of Giselle.
Giselle was a sex worker. She was also beautiful and caring and my first love. My only love, I guess, other than my daughter. She looked like a fucking supermodel with her long black hair and exotic eyes. I met her when I was a cock-strong teenager, full of piss and vinegar and eager to get my rocks off as often as possible. She was actually a few years older than me, and it wasn’t until she came to see me with a black eye when I was maybe twenty that I realized how much I cared for her.