by Stacey Lynn
There was no way a vibrator was going to be enough for the release I so desperately craved tonight.
“Very well,” Jensen said. His voice turned to steel and his words snapped at me like I’d done something wrong. With his hand on my hip, he spun me and gentled nudged me toward the door.
Outside, the brighter light made me blink several times all while I trailed behind his long and quick strides before he reached the second room.
God. If I was close to coming already, I didn’t know what I’d find in there.
He pushed open the door and stood to the side, waiting for me to enter. When I passed him, he flicked on the lights just as the door clicked closed behind me.
This wasn’t a public room at all, but a private one.
And we were completely alone.
My eyes bugged out and I spun around. “What are we doing here?”
Jensen
Fuck the voyeurism.
She was so aroused, she was drenched with the scent of it. I would lose control if I took her into another room.
We needed to talk and plan our next meeting, and I needed to go home and be alone with my right hand before I forced things to move too quickly tonight.
“I think after that show I have a good idea of what turns you on,” I said with a smug grin.
Her cheeks were stained pink and even though I’d tried to give her a few moments to calm down, her chest still rose and sunk with panted breath.
If I ran a fingertip along her clit, she’d probably shatter into a million pieces.
“Hard limits,” I said, my voice thick with need. I slammed my hands into the front pockets of my jeans so I didn’t reach out and touch her. “What are they?”
Her eyes went wild and her lips parted. The move made my cock jump and force itself against my zipper. Hell, I needed to get home. And quick. Maybe I’d need to make a quick stop in the bathroom and take care of myself like some damn randy teenager before I left.
“Um...”
“Sir,” I clipped. I hadn’t forgotten she stopped calling me that when we were in the playroom. If she was already mine, she’d have earned herself several hard swats with my hand for it.
My jaw clenched. Damn. How could I have pushed this part of me down for two years and now it threatened to explode in a loss of self-control? I inhaled a long breath to calm my fraying nerves. It was that or climb out of my skin.
“Sorry, sir.” She squeezed her eyes closed and took several slow breaths. Gaining her composure and most of her senses, she continued. “No fisting, urine or scat play, electro play, animal play, public humiliation or multiple partners. And, I’m not fond of ropes.”
I made a face. That was new. A lot of subs in the last few years had fallen in love with being tied into intricate patterns. I wondered why she didn’t like it, but didn’t ask. I hadn’t trained in Shibari so it didn’t matter.
“No multiple partners?” I asked. “You’ve never been curious about a threesome?”
“No. I want to submit, I want to give up that control, in the bedroom, and I’m willing out of it depending on the circumstances. I don’t know if I’m interested in twenty-four-seven like a slave, yet. I have my own business and I can’t drop things because someone needs me all the time. I want a relationship, not just play, although I realize that doesn’t have to be us. I’ve wanted this for as long as I could remember and now that I have the chance to explore it, I want that, too.”
Her response shook the floor beneath my feet. She continued to surprise me. Her confidence even through her nerves told me she knew exactly what she wanted.
I took a step forward. Fuck, she was starting to undo me. She wasn’t only beautiful, but clearly intelligent. From the firm set of her shoulders, her unwavering knowledge of what she was looking for, to the way her eyes gleamed with excitement when she spoke, all of it increased my awareness of her.
“You’ve never wondered, though?” I asked, deepening my voice and standing in front of her. She lifted her chin and looked me in the eye. “What it would feel like to have two cocks deep inside you? One taking your ass, the other your pussy, maybe a third fucking your face? You’ve never thought about it what it would be like to be taken by three men simultaneously, while their sole desire was to please you?”
Not that I’d ever let another man touch her. Just thinking about the way Dylan pressed his hands on top of hers earlier made me want to rip him to shreds.
The way her eyes glazed over, though, the way her hands balled into fists and she gasped told me that I could push her further than she’d ever thought she could go...and she’d like it.
“No, sir. I haven’t thought about that.”
“Would you be interested? If your Dom asked you to do it?”
Her lip was sucked between her teeth and popped out before I could do it for her. I grinned approvingly. “Don’t be nervous or embarrassed, it’s just you and me, pretty girl.”
“I would have to think about it. What you describe sounds beautiful, and I know sex is seen as open in this world, but to me, monogamy is still important.”
A woman with values and morals. She’d throw them away for a flogger or a clitoris clamp, perhaps a ball gag, but she drew the line at another male. It was interesting, and not common.
I dipped my chin to her response and stepped back, a seductive grin stretching my lips. “Master Dylan has told me that you’ve researched this for quite a while. Do you know the welcome position? The first position a sub will always be in for her partner?”
“Kneeling.”
“Do it,” I commanded. She hesitated and her lips parted before she looked away. “I’m not asking, Haley.”
“I thought Dylan said there would be no touching tonight.”
“Ah, but I’m not going to touch you.” I let her breathe a sigh of relief before I continued. This wasn’t against the rules, nor was it following exact protocol. But I’d waited long enough. I wanted to see her fall apart. “You’re going to touch yourself, and I’m going to watch.”
“Sir, um, do I have to?”
I tilted my head and feigned ignorance. “Did you not come here to learn submission? To speak with and be trained by a Dom?”
“I did, sir.”
She was remembering. I was almost disappointed. I wanted to warn her by reddening her ass and see what response that elicited.
“Then move to kneeling. I want to see your form.”
With only a slight hesitancy in her movements, she dropped to her knees.
Holy fuck. I gripped myself through my denim, uncaring that she saw. The thick, heavy bulge was noticeable and I needed relief.
I swallowed my groan and focused on the woman before me.
She was everything and nothing like Courtney. Dylan hadn’t been lying one single bit. She submitted easily, already responding to me, and she wanted it. She might not have needed it, but someday soon, she would. Yet she had all the confidence and a deep knowledge about herself and her needs that Courtney had lacked.
Stop comparing!
“Very good, pretty girl,” I commended and walked a small circle around her. “Straighten your spine but keep your head down.” She responded quickly, moving until the line of her back arched nice and tall and she kept her shoulders back. “Keep your heels together, and your ass on them, widen your knees as far as you can.” She obeyed without hesitating. Eager to learn. I liked it.
No, I fucking loved it.
“Normally, if we play together, you will clasp your hands together at the back of you. Nod if you understand.” Again, a quick response. “But tonight, we’re going to do something different. I want you to pull your skirt up to your waist, okay?”
I normally wouldn’t ask, and this was pushing it already. Dylan would probably want to cane me for this.
She listened. Thank God. “If you want me to be the one to train you—”
“I do.”
I squatted in front of her.
“I do, sir, I mean.” Her stammer was cute.
“How do you know?” I asked, at her eye level but not touching her. She didn’t lift her eyes to mine which was good, I hadn’t told her to.
“Because I trust Master Dylan and he said you’d be good for me. He’s been kind and forthcoming and patient with me, I see no reason to disbelieve him about this.”
Well, fuck. “Very well.” I stood up and dropped my hand back to my dick. “Push your panties to the side and show me your soaking-wet slit. It is wet, isn’t it? I’ve been able to smell you since we walked up those stairs earlier.”
A quick intake of breath, followed by a long pause.
“Remember,” I said, lowering my voice. “Submission is your call. I might be in charge, but this is an equal transfer of power. Always. Red means stop and yellow means slow down until we come up with our own safe words, okay?” She nodded immediately, her fingers resting on the inside of her thigh. “Do you need to say yellow?”
“No, sir.” She slid her black thong to the side and caught it with the fingertips of her other hand. She was holding herself open to me and every bit of her shaved and beautiful, pink pussy glistened with wetness. “I just needed to remember I had the option,” she finally said.
“Always. Look at me, Haley.” She pulled her eyes to mine and I flashed my most compassionate look. She would never know how important this was to me, but I hoped in time, I could ensure she knew I meant it. “Anytime we do anything, it’s always about you. I will stretch your limits, push you outside your comfort zone, but if you don’t like it, we try something new. My job is to please you, to bring you pleasure...you being pleasured is my reward, understand?”
“Yes...yes, sir.”
“Very good.” My mask slammed back in place. “Slide your fingers through your pussy. Soak up your wetness and play with your clit. I want to see how you get yourself off, how you’ll do it again when you get home tonight because as much as you want this right now, it’s still only barely enough to take the edge off your neediness.”
“God,” she whispered, her voice raw. “How do you know that?”
“Sir,” I responded for her. I leaned forward and whispered, “And if you forget that word again, the first thing we’ll do after our next meeting is try out my spanking bench. Now obey.”
“Sorry, sir,” she said, even as she began doing what I said. And in the exact same order. Her fingers, nails painted a red to match her toes, slid through her pussy. I heard them sliding, couldn’t pull my eyes off her. The outer walls of her vagina pulsed, trying to suck her fingers inside of her and her clit was so swollen it was visible. She trembled from her own ministrations and dragged her finger from her pussy to her clit, gently flicking it back and forth.
Fuck. Someday, it’d be my fingers, me, making her body quiver like that.
“Keep your hips still,” I said, as she shifted and arched toward the movement of her fingers. She would need to learn control—that was obvious. She was fighting for her orgasm instead of letting it come to her. “And look at me.”
She did immediately, and her heavy-lidded eyes told me everything. She fucking liked the fact she was getting off in front of a stranger.
“You close?” I asked, bending down to be at her eye level. I could wrap my hand around her neck and pull her toward me, slide my tongue between her parted lips. I didn’t. “Come when you’re close, Haley, and don’t hold back. I want to hear you.”
“Shit shit shit,” she chanted. I kept my eyes on her, our gazes locked and her orgasm hit her before she knew it was coming. It barreled down from her dilated pupils, to the heat of her cheeks that spread to her chest, before her entire body quivered and shook. “I’m coming!” She shouted, throwing back her head and squeezing her eyes shut. “Holy shit!” she cried out over and over as the orgasm rolled through her. I glanced down at her spread thighs to see her center pulsing and contracting as she fell over the edge.
As it left her body, she fell forward, gasping for breath.
“I’d like to comfort you and touch you. Is that okay?”
I’d put her through a lot in a short time. She was most likely overwhelmed with everything she’d seen tonight, and now done. I suspected she needed the contact.
She nodded, still unable to speak, so I sat down on the floor and pulled her into my arms. Her legs draped over my lap and my hands settled on her back, one higher toward her shoulder. She settled her face into the crook of my neck.
“Good girl,” I cooed, rubbing large, soothing circles on her back. “My pretty girl was perfect.”
Her body gave another shudder and I smiled, slid my lips against the top of her head.
Haley was going to be perfect.
I was so royally fucked.
Chapter Five
Haley
I crumpled the piece of paper in my hand and scowled. That damn, narcissistic loser of an ex-husband simply wouldn’t go away. I would have thought with as little energy Timothy put into making our marriage work, that he wouldn’t have expended nearly this much effort post-divorce.
I’d given him everything he asked for during the divorce even against my lawyer’s advice. The resort and my parents’ home had everything I needed.
But his new tactic, trying to sue me...that went too far.
It didn’t help that I had received the lawsuit first thing Monday morning when I arrived at my desk. I needed to focus on the tasks at hand, but it was difficult considering I was still living in a fantasy land from last Thursday at Luminous.
Gah. My body still tingled at the things I’d seen...the things I’d done...and I couldn’t stop thinking of Jensen.
The way he spoke to me and commanded me. While at the same time, ensured I was comfortable by explaining everything and asking me questions.
He’d been right, too. I had come home from Luminous and immediately had to work out my sexual frustration all over again. I did it while imagining his voice, his eyes on me, him telling me what to do every moment. And I hadn’t done it just once, but twice.
I woke up Friday, my body slightly sore and stiff, and my mind reeling. My phone stayed in my pocket through the morning while I helped the crew prepare all the rooms for our weekend check-ins, my first time being in charge by myself.
The entire weekend had gone smoothly, thank goodness, but I suspected that had more to do with Maria, the head housekeeper and lifelong friend to my parents.
I had been too absorbed with the thoughts of Jensen promising he’d call me to arrange a meeting to discuss my training, and too distracted when my phone remained silent.
All weekend long I’d replayed Thursday night in my head, and as each day passed, emptiness settled deeper in my stomach. Had I not been good enough? Was he not willing to train me after all? Had I not listened appropriately?
All these questions tumbled in my mind and, adding the frustration of this new lawsuit from Timothy, by the time I was in my office on Monday, staring at the lawsuit and trying to un-wrinkle the mess of paperwork in my hands, it was too much.
I felt lost. Unsettled in a way I didn’t imagine would happen after my first kink-experience, as vanilla as it was.
But it was all new to me, and I had more questions. The fact my phone continued to remain silent after four days made me want to place my head against my desk and let loose the emotions I’d been trying to hold on to.
Forcing myself to push Jensen out of my mind—which hadn’t worked yet, but a girl could hope—I pulled up law firms in Grand Rapids on the internet, and searched for a new firm to hire.
I had never actually hated Timothy while we were married, just felt disappointed—in him and myse
lf for not truly seeing all the warning signs he’d clearly flashed my way.
He had been the bad boy, and he’d swept me up in his tales and touches and gentle kisses and I’d desperately wanted to believe every word he spoke.
No, I hadn’t hated him, not until I received this paperwork.
Now, I despised him.
“Ugh,” I groaned as I clicked through Google’s listing of local law firms. Mr. Townsend’s office in Ann Arbor was one of the largest, so I needed to find someone comparable. I needed a lawyer capable of beating them even if I knew this whole suit was laughable.
As I continued flicking through pages and sites and law review board recommendations, one name continued popping up.
Mr. J.R. Rhodes. His name was everywhere in cases won, the size of his law firm, the number of attorneys he had, and the recognition he received from various associations.
I wasn’t able to find any personal information on him or even a thumbnail photo. Based on the success he’d had, I imagined he was old enough to be my father.
Inhaling a confidence-building breath, I picked up the phone and called his office.
He sounded like he was the best. And that was what I needed.
* * *
“What do you mean he’s booked for the next three months?” My voice was high-pitched and panicky, and I couldn’t stop making that shrieking sound.
A heavy, annoyed sigh filtered through the phone. “I’m certain I made myself clear, Mrs. Portsmouth.”
“Miss,” I hissed. The first thing I did once my divorce was final was head to the Social Security office and change my name back to my maiden one. Getting rid of the last name Miller was almost as exciting as leaving Timothy in my rearview mirror.
The receptionist’s voice went quieter. She wasn’t speaking to me when she said, “Yes, Mr. Rhodes, your dinner reservation for six o’clock has been confirmed at The Royal Mile.” I quickly scribbled the name down on a Post-it when she said, more clearly this time, “Now, if that’s all, I believe I’ve told you all you need to know. Mr. Rhodes is simply not available to help you.”