Sliding my hands into my pockets, I slowly pace toward her, reminding myself that she’s here to be fucked, not figured out.
“Raya?” I ask when I approach her side, pulling her around on her stool until she’s facing me.
In an instant I see something change in her, her brown eyes suddenly glowing, any misery dissolving. That shimmer, although I know it’s a front, emphasizes just how beautiful she really is. I hold my hand out to her. “Drew.”
She gives me her hand and brings her gaze to mine again. Then she smiles, looking almost amused. I’m caught off guard, taken aback by the brightness of her expression. It gives her beauty a new edge, a warmth that makes my stomach flip. It completely contradicts her request for detachment, and at this moment I’m glad, because I’m seriously in awe. I beat down my admiration as she cocks her head a little, making a layer of her hair fall across one of her sparkling eyes. The urge to reach forward and brush it away nearly gets the better of me. “Nice to meet you, Drew.”
Her hold of my hand is tight, surely meant to be confident, when I know it’s actually nerves making her squeeze so hard. “Is something funny?” I ask, keeping my expression stony.
I pull my hand free of hers, trying not to frown when the heat of her touch fades from my skin. Taking a stool next to her, my gaze remains on hers as she laughs the same deep, throaty laugh I heard on the phone. The sound echoes in my head, and I have to work hard not to smile at her unknown amusement.
“I’m sorry.” She returns to face the bar, still fiddling with her mobile. “I wasn’t expecting…” She drifts off and swallows, and I notice her exposed collarbone, the path from her throat to her shoulder a perfect line of sensitive flesh pleading for my lips. “You’re not what I was expecting.” She returns her attention to me, her brown eyes now full of appreciation.
“And what were you expecting?”
“I don’t know.” She glances away, and I find myself reaching for her face to turn it back. She doesn’t pull away, just lets me hold her jaw as she gazes at me.
“You’re attracted to me.” I state it as a fact, and she nods in my hold.
“Although you’re a little older than I expected.”
“Ouch.” I laugh lightly at her frankness. So much for emotionless.
“It’s not a problem, though,” she rushes to reassure me. It’s reassurance I don’t need, yet for some odd reason I’m glad she’s not bothered by the years that separate us.
“Then we’re off to a good start. How old are you?”
“Twenty-four.” She purses her lips, nervous. “Is that a problem for you?”
“Not at all.” I release her face, registering her relief. “Would you like a drink?”
“Hendricks, please. Straight.”
I signal the barman over and order our drinks, feeling Raya’s eyes on my profile the entire time. There’s an unease simmering within me, something alien and unsettling, and I can’t quite put my finger on the cause. I generally don’t feel at all. Not around here, at least. All of my emotion is reserved for Georgia. Yet the woman sitting beside me is unearthing an intrigue beyond how hard I’m going to come when I fuck her. It’s unsettling. Why is she here? I want to know, but definitely shouldn’t ask.
I slide her drink toward her and watch as she takes a sip. She swallows and takes a breath. “Is this customary?” she asks, raising her glass. “I mean the drinks.”
“You want to get straight to the fucking part?”
She fails to hide her slight recoil, and though I remain straight-faced on the outside, I’m smiling a little on the inside. Honestly, her nerves are turning me on. What I could do to her. How I can make her feel. It’s just ramping up the flow of blood through my veins.
“I thought we were supposed to talk,” she says quietly, almost unsure. “Find out whether you can give me what I’m looking for.”
I decide to humor her. “What do you want out of this?” I tip my whiskey to my lips as she studies me.
“I’m a woman. I have needs.” Her chin raises in a display of sureness.
I silently call bullshit. “Then date,” I counter swiftly, and she laughs lightly, forcing me to tamp down the pleasure inside me that the sound stirs.
“When you date someone, Drew, they want to get to know you.” She levels me with an expression that can only be described as determination. And damn if it only makes me want to figure her out even more. “People around here don’t want to get to know each other, right?”
“Right,” I agree, though I don’t sound as sure as I should. “So you’re here to screw with no risk of…what? Feeling?”
“And to forget for a while.” She quickly looks away, a small frown marring her perfect face, as if she didn’t mean to say that.
Her answer has me holding the liquid in my mouth, more curiosity creeping up on me. I swallow, beating it back. “I can do that.” I’ll make her forget her name, where she is, why she’s here. Life as she knows it will cease to exist once I lay my hands on her.
Raya nods, slow and thoughtful, as she returns her eyes to mine. “I’ve no doubt you can.”
I know I can. I down my drink and place it carefully on the bar. All this talking, while intriguing, is working me up. I need to let off some steam, and I’m not waiting until Raye decides whether I’m the man for the job. Getting up from my stool, I offer her my hand while scanning the lounge for my victim. I spot Karen in the corner alone, her attention on her mobile as she sips wine. The hardball lawyer is about to be hard-balled. “Just let me know when you’re ready.” I look back to Raya when she doesn’t take my hand, finding her looking toward Karen, too. “Raya?”
“That’s it?” she asks.
I withdraw my hand, noting her disappointment. “We’ve met. The ball’s in your court from here.”
Surprise suddenly masks that disappointment. “I hardly know anything about you.” She shakes her head, certainly reminding herself that she doesn’t want to.
“Like I said, this isn’t a date. All you need to know is that I have a cock and I have ability, and with them I can blow your mind.” I stride away, my blood now pumping.
Karen looks up as I approach, an appreciative smile curling her red lips. She places her mobile on the table gently, every movement slow and seductive.
“Someone looks like he’s on a mission.” She pushes out the velvet chair opposite her with the toe of her stiletto and nods to it. “Join me.” She discreetly spreads her thighs as far as her skirt will allow. She’s bare beneath, and my eyes root there, all my blood heading for my cock. I flex my neck and roll my shoulder. “I’ve done enough talking for this evening.”
“I saw.” Karen casts her eyes across to Raya, but I resist looking myself. “She looks a little devastated by your departure.”
“I said I was done with talking.”
“Doesn’t look like she is.” Karen stands and struts off, her eyes dancing with amusement as she passes Raya.
For the first time, I get a sense of her height, her eyes level with my chin, though the heels she’s wearing are giving her that advantage. “I’m ready now.” Her expression is fierce and determined as she reaches for my hand and laces her fingers through mine.
The room seems to shrink, taking the oxygen with it. My cock swells, my skin prickles with excitement, and my hand flexes around hers. And I just manage to find some breath to speak.
“This way.” My voice is unusually rough and low, my thoughts tunnelling as I lead her through the lounge. The foyer, a sea of black marble, clinical in its hardness but decadent in its darkness, amplifies the click of her heels as she trails me, her grip tightening around mine. The barely lit chandeliers above us reflect light off the white shards embedded in the stone surrounding us, soft darts of sparking lights leading the way.
I look over my shoulder as I pull Raya on, and the resolution in those deep brown eyes of hers, making that hidden shimmer break through, even just a fraction, sends my craving to near unbearable levels. That shi
mmer will be a blinding sparkle once I’m done with her; not forced or fake.
Pushing into a private room, I pull her in and release her hand. The shift of the lock, sharp and final, pierces the silence. I hang back, resting against the door, giving her time, letting her drink it all in. The cage in the corner. The St. Andrew’s cross. The swing suspended from the ceiling. The huge leather bed. The bondage horse. Everything. Her body is rolling with her breathing, her arms lifeless by her sides. My mind would usually be spinning with plans, what I’ll do and where we’d do it. But now I can’t think past simply getting her naked. Putting my hands on her skin. My lips on hers.
I inwardly flinch and blink my vision clear. Just get on and do what you do best, Drew. Fuck her into oblivion. Make her scream with desperation for more.
I move in, closing the space between us, and pull her hair away from her neck. She immediately softens before me, her head falling back, her inhale deep. I study the expanse of taut, soft skin, my gaze trailing down to her collarbone.
“You ready to get completely lost?” I ask her. Fuck me, I think I’m on the way to forgetting my name, too. The smell of her is stimulating and debilitating all at once. The feel of her is electric on my skin, and I’m not even naked yet.
A need in me, a desperation I’ve never experienced before, robs my mind of rational thought. Why? What is this? Every woman I’ve been with has been sexy and has turned me on. But Raya radiates a soft, almost innocent sexiness that I’ve never encountered before. It’s a powerful quality she holds, and it’s even sexier because she doesn’t realize she has it. She’s effortlessly alluring, but her uncertainty is clear, even if she’s fighting to mask it. I look at the women here and know what they want, but why they want it isn’t something that interests me. I take pleasure and I give it. That’s it. Now, though, I’m getting a powerful satisfaction, pleasure even, just from helping her escape. It’s not a physical pleasure, but a soul-deep pleasure. I feel privileged that I get to be the one that does that for her. Jesus, this woman is stimulating a curiosity in me that’s waging a war in my head. That little slip-up of hers in the bar has my mind spinning. What does she want to forget? Why doesn’t she want a man to get to know her? And, more significantly, why the fuck do I feel like I want to?
“I think I’m already lost,” she murmurs.
I shake my head clear. Get to business, Drew. Business doesn’t involve mastering this woman’s mind. It involves fucking her mindless.
I realign my focus and blow a cool stream of air across her neck, pushing on. “My lips on your skin,” I whisper. She shudders, as do I. “My fingers fucking you, stretching you, getting you ready to take me.” I lower my mouth and bite down on the delicate flesh of her shoulder. Her body leans back further into mine, her head rolling to the side. “My cock plunging into your cunt.” I slide my hand onto her tummy and pull her back, rolling my erection into her arse.
It’s hard, but I resist the urge to strip her bare, throw her on the bed, and sink into her here and now, reminding myself of why she’s here. And why I am, too. But, damn, physical contact is only heightening my hunger. I just want in on her body. I want in on her mind.
Resting my chin on her shoulder, I walk us forward toward the bondage horse, feeling her fingers weaving through mine where my hand rests on her tummy. I flex my hold, squeezing her hand in mine, an uncharacteristic show of reassurance. But it feels natural for me to ease her, and I’m in no position to question it now that I’m touching her. Her heart is pounding so hard I can feel it sinking into my chest.
Wait. My steps falter when realization dawns.
It’s not her heart.
It’s mine.
“Okay?” she asks quietly, glancing back at me. Her question is forgotten the moment her eyes come into view. Sparking eyes. Eyes overflowing with a craving that I can relate to.
I don’t answer, breaking away from her warmth. “Stay there,” I command curtly, fighting to get myself back on track. I collect a blindfold from the cabinet and smooth it through my fingers as I move back to her, questioning my intention to cover those eyes. She doesn’t move a muscle, doesn’t object or try to see where I am. She remains still as I tie the ends securely.
Am I trying to avoid her eyes? To hide the sparkle that’s working its way under my skin?
No. This is simply to heighten her senses. This is me and what I do. Jesus, what’s with all the analyzing? I shake my mind clear and push on, reaching for the hem of Raya’s camisole and pulling it up over her head. I drop it to the floor, my eyes not leaving the expanse of her back. No bra. I swallow and lower the zip on the side of her leather jeans, revealing the first glimpse of black lace. My fingers brush her skin, and heat sweeps through me like wildfire. Another swallow, except this time I step back to gather myself. Deep breaths.
I push my shoulders back, ignoring the shooting pain, then take a long inhale and try again, reaching for the waist of her trousers and drawing them slowly down her legs. With each inch of her skin that’s revealed, my breathing becomes more and more shallow, until I’m completely holding my breath. Her parted lips and shallow pants as she kicks her heels off and steps out of her trousers tell me I’m succeeding in fulfilling her request already. She’s forgetting. It’s beyond me why, but it makes me feel accomplished. Happy.
I’m forced to take another moment, rising and stepping back, away from her, gaining some distance. It doesn’t work. The electric energy being generated by our close bodies continues to sizzle and crack. It’s debilitating, my head and body in chaos. I just can’t help but wish I knew what I’m helping her forget, and it’s taking everything in me not to demand an answer to the question that’s buried itself deep in my brain. These reactions I’m having aren’t normal. I don’t like them. But I can’t seem to stop them.
I wipe my brow with my forearm and refocus my attention on getting myself naked, my hands shaking through my task. I glance down at my cock, stifling a moan at the sight of it weeping. This has never happened before. I know if I wrapped my fist around the base, only one stroke would have me gone. I’m renowned for my endurance—my control, my pace, my cool approach. What is this shit? I growl, pure frustration, and yank Raya’s black lacy knickers down her legs, pulling a small cry from her with them. It’s just a sound, a sound of anticipation that I’ve heard from hundreds of women before her, yet from her mouth it’s the most powerful aphrodisiac I’ve ever encountered. As potent as her naked body before me. More commanding than her skin begging for my touch. Almost as dizzying as the questions swirling in my mind.
I stalk across to the sideboard and grab some cuffs and a spreader bar, having a stern word with myself. When I make it back to her, I drop the bar to the floor and it lands with a thud, making her jerk a little. Placing my palm in the center of her back, I push her forward until her front comes to rest on the horse. She’s bent over it, her arse on perfect display. “Arms above your head,” I order, and she complies immediately, taking her wrists up to the hoops at the end. I round the horse, my eyes on her face as it rests on the leather pad, her full lips parted slightly. I unbuckle the cuffs and secure them over her wrists, giving them a good yank when I’m done. “You want me to stop at any point, just say the word.”
“What word?” she asks breathlessly.
I smile to myself. “Stop, Raya.” I sweep her hair off her face and lower my mouth to her cheek. “The word is stop.” My tongue licks up her temple, my eyes closing in bliss. “I want to hear your pleasure.” I slide my hand into her hair and fist it. “Make sure I hear your pleasure.”
She nods, her torso rolling.
My fisted hand softens and caresses her hair, and I take in her serene face as I tie her hair up, wanting to admire every angle. “Good girl.” I collect the spreader bar and kneel behind her, nudging her legs apart. Once again, she follows my order without question or objection. She’s perfect. So perfect.
I fix the bar between her legs, adjusting it wide. The spread of her legs makes the
m seem longer, more lithe, more amazing. I drag my fingertips up the backs of her calves, behind her knees, under her supple thighs. My soft touch earns me a whimper, and I stand back, relishing the sound as well as the vision before me. She’s laid out bare and restrained. For me. Sacrificial. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. So beautiful, I just stand for a while, admiring her.
I take backward steps to the sideboard so I don’t lose my view, grabbing a condom and blindly slipping it on. Heart pumping, I swallow and place myself behind her, taking my hand to her nape and dragging it down the center of her back. My touch elicits a ripple of her spine and a low, happy moan.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been so desperate to put my cock in a woman.” My finger traces the crease of her tight arse until it finds her passage, the small muscled ring tensing. “Relax, Raya,” I order gently, working my finger in circles. “Just a thumb.”
“Oh God,” she breathes, the cuffs shifting.
My spare hand reaches for her nape and massages as I continue to work her arse, her body softening with each circle of my thumb. “That’s it.” I apply a little pressure and breach her opening, making her jolt. “Steady.” She starts to pant. “Breathe.” I push in farther, releasing her neck and grasping my throbbing cock, starting to slowly work myself. My groan is animalistic, almost a growl. “Remember what I told you, Raya?”
“I can’t remember a thing.”
I smile. Then I’m doing something right. But I still slap her across the arse for forgetting, a stinger of a slap, and she cries out, her legs buckling a little. “Try again.” My thumb pushes back inside her, no soft approach now.
“Hear my pleasure,” she pants, breathless. “You want to hear my pleasure.”
All I Am--Drew's Story Page 2