by Dani René
“Do you enjoy breaking the rules, Giana?” I question, before taking a long sip of the amber liquid. I normally drink a dry gin and tonic when I’m in here, but tonight I felt like something heavier. Something darker.
“Sometimes,” she murmurs. “It depends on the person I’m breaking them with.” If that wasn’t an invitation, I don’t know what is.
“How about you join me tonight? I’ll show you how to shatter all the fucking rules,” I offer, draining the glass. Before Giana can answer, the blonde on stage cries out in pleasured pain. We both drag our attention to see the Dom whipping her beautiful cunt.
“Do you do things like that?” she questions in a soft, raspy tone.
My head snaps back to the brown-eyed goddess I’d love to whip until she’s coming all over me.
“It depends on the person I’m with,” I quip, throwing her words back at her with a deep growl.
“And if that person happens to be me?” she asks. Her head tips to the side with a quizzical expression on her face. I’m about to answer when Oliver strolls up beside me, settling himself in the vacant seat.
“Bourbon, pretty girl,” he orders gruffly. Turning to my best friend, I notice he’s a bit worse for wear.
“What’s crawled up your ass?” I question, before turning back to watch Giana pour two triples into the tumblers she set aside.
“You remember that asshole, Fredericks?” he growls. I nod. “Well, he just called. He wants me in court tomorrow at seven.”
I knew that would happen. Chuckling, I lift the glass as soon as my new toy sets them down. With a wink, I offer her a nod, hoping she’ll understand we need space. I’m pleasantly surprised when she does pick up on my silent signal and heads over to the far end of the bar to serve other customers.
“I’m more than happy to take a rain check, man,” I inform him, knowing that he takes court seriously. He never stays out late if he’s got an early morning appearance. Neither do I for that matter.
I knew I had to move on from mediocre jobs and that’s when I started working with Oliver. He agreed to hire me as long as we didn’t let our friendship get in the way. At work we were colleagues, after hours we were best friends, brothers. I knew I wanted to work for the infamous Mr. Michaelson. Over the years, I’d been with every other company. I looked up to him. Watching his career progress, the man is as ruthless in a courtroom as he is in the dungeon. When I first saw him walk into Seven Sins, I had been working with him for a year. It brought us closer together, knowing that we both had a penchant for the darker side of life.
The first time we shared a girl was when he took Nathan Ashcroft and me on as trainees. He taught me about delivering pain, just the right amount to draw pleasure from the female form. He knew Raquel. He introduced us. Always intuitive with what is going on around him. And since then, he’s been a brother, a mentor, and a business associate. He announced me as partner to his firm after my fourth year. Being a few years older than me, you’d think the man would make sure I knew it, but he treats me as an equal, and that’s earned him my respect.
“I better go, or I’ll be here all night tempted by the beautiful women and men. See you in the office tomorrow. And—” He leans in, and his gaze casts over my shoulder to Giana. “Don’t be late.”
I don’t know how he does it. How he knew that she’s going to be beneath me tonight, but once again, he floors me.
“I won’t,” I respond quietly. Sipping on my drink, I don’t meet his gaze that seems to be burning a hole through me. Once I set the glass down, I finally meet his gray eyes. He merely smiles as he saunters out of the club, leaving me to plan my night with the pretty bartender.
Giana
He’s been sitting there watching show after show, and with each of them, I notice him sip the drink I poured him slowly, as if savoring it. And I know it’s his way. When he’s about to play a scene, or take home a toy, he doesn’t get drunk, ever.
When I pretty much offered myself to him earlier, I thought he was going to take me up on it, but Oliver appeared, had a quick drink, and then left.
I have another hour to go on this shift, and all I keep thinking about is kneeling for this man, having him bind me to a pole and whip me until I’m screaming his name. And we all know that I definitely know his name.
He rises from the chair and turns toward me with his signature smirk on that incredible mouth. “I’m heading out,” he murmurs over the bar, slipping something toward me on the mahogany surface. “If you’re interested in breaking any rules, you’ll need this.”
I don’t look away, keeping my gaze on his; I reach for the plastic card and watch as he makes his way to the exit. Once the door shuts and he’s out of my line of sight, I take a look at the card beneath my fingers.
A sleek silver rectangle the size of a credit card. On the top, centered in dark ornate lettering, are the initials E.D. I flip it over. There’s an address printed in a generic type. No phone number, just the three lines of a local home; my heart catapults into my chest.
It’s been so long since we’ve been close. Since his fingers have brought me to orgasm that the tingle between my thighs intensifies at the thought of once again feeling him. Every nerve in my body tells me to go for it. I have nothing to lose. Slipping the card into my pocket, I continue the rest of my shift with a smile on my face and my belly flip flopping with nerves.
When I pull up to the gates, there’s a small intercom I can access from the driver’s window. I push the button once and hear the buzzing from the speaker. A click. Then the gates slide open with ease.
The anxiety flutters in my stomach, and I wonder if he’ll recognize me from his past. Pulling up the drive, the house comes into view, stealing my breath. Three levels of incredible beauty. Lit in a soft orange glow from the drive and the windows, I take in the monstrosity that is the Draydon Mansion.
Once I kill the engine, I exit the car on shaky legs and head toward the door. Before I can knock, it swings open, and I’m met with a lady who looks to be in her late forties. She’s incredibly beautiful with a tight bun at the back of her head. Her makeup is immaculate, better than mine, and she offers me a nod. I take in her appearance, noticing she’s dressed in a black and white uniform.
“Hello, I’m—”
“Giana? He’s in his office,” she says, gesturing to the right as she steps aside and allows me to enter. The warm smile on her face puts me at ease for a moment, but as soon as I take in the interior of the home, I’m speechless. The dark décor reminds me of an old Victorian castle with the dark reds, blacks, and grays. There’s a navy and purple modern artwork that hangs on the wall at the entrance, and smaller ones along the walls which seems out of place with the rest of the décor, but even so, it’s breathtaking.
Two large vases both filled with red roses fragrance the room with their alluring scent and I can’t help inhaling deeply. I recall the day Elijah walked into my hospital room with a single red rose he’d picked in the gardens. My most prized possession. Red for lust and a rose for love.
The maid, who hasn’t told me her name, leads me toward a drawing room, or is it called a living room? There aren’t any sofas, only two wingback chairs and a long dark wooden table that runs almost the length of the room.
“Wait here,” she says, leaving me standing in the abandoned room and shutting the door behind her. My eyes roam around the room, taking in the paintings, large fireplace, and the windows that overlook the back garden. A small patch of grass is lit up by lamps outside, which allows me to make out the flowerbeds just outside the windows. I feel him before I hear him, then the lights in the room dim to almost full darkness.
“Hello, Giana.” The sensual timber of Elijah’s voice comes from somewhere in the room, but I can’t see him. “I’d like you to strip for me. I want to see what beautiful lingerie you have hidden under those clothes.” The order is veiled in a soft, sensual whisper.
“Eli—”
“I didn’t ask you to speak. I aske
d you to take your clothes off,” comes his fluid response. No nonsense. Commanding. This is what I wanted, what I’ve craved for far too long.
Nodding, I tug the T-shirt, which is part of my uniform, over my head. The pink lace bra I’m wearing molds to my B cup breasts. My nipples are hard from exposing myself like this to a man I’ve thought about every day since I was eighteen and he walked out on me.
Unbuttoning the jeans I’m wearing, I slip them down my legs and step out of the fabric, leaving it on the floor beside me. I want to ask him why he’s doing this. I also want to know if he’s going to fuck me, but all I can think about is the fact that I can’t see him and he can see me practically naked.
“Good girl. Now, I want you to climb onto the table in front of you. Kneel like a submissive would. You know how to do that, yes?” he questions and I nod. “Good. Your pert little ass will perch on your heels, your palms on your thighs, and those pretty brown eyes closed.”
Every word of his instruction drips with desire and dominance. A deadly combination. It is cloaked with lust which matches my own. Obeying him, I slip onto the table and sit back.
My hands, as he mentioned, are on my bare thighs. I shut my eyes. The temptation to peek sizzles through me, but I don’t. I allow myself to experience first-hand what it’s like to be dominated by a man like him.
I feel his presence behind me before he speaks. Warm breath on my ear alerts me that he’s leaning in. His lips brush against the shell of my ear lightly, so much in fact that I think I’ve imagined it.
Deft fingertips unclasp my bra, and I allow him to rid me of the material. Once my breasts are bare, he whispers. “Put your hands behind your back, Toy.” His voice is a husky rumble that shudders through me, from the top of my head, down to my toes.
I move my arms, gripping one wrist with the opposite hand. Soft rope teases my skin, causing goose bumps to dot my body. From my elbows, he binds both arms in slow measured movements all the way down to my wrists. The position juts out my breasts and curves my back.
“Open your mouth,” he orders. Once my lips are parted, I feel a ball being fitted with a strap around my head. Oh my God, a ball gag. “Are you scared, Toy?” Without the gift of words, I shake my head, no.
He grips my shoulders, lifting me up onto my knees. Seconds later a cold metal object trails down my shoulder, between my heaving breasts until it reaches my belly button. Stifling a moan, I wait. Once it reaches my panties, soundlessly, it slices through the material. I know this because the breeze on my bare slick flesh has me shivering.
“You’re a very good toy. Did you want to play with Daddy?” The question should freak me out. It should even make me want to stop and run away, but it has the opposite effect. I should say no, but I don’t. I nod. Quickly agreeing to whatever he has in mind. “I love pretty toys, and you’re exquisite.” His words are filled with hungry desire. Reverence.
He trails his fingertips over my pussy and a whimper falls from my lips, which is muffled by the small ball that’s positioned in my mouth. I can’t stop myself from bucking against his hand. His chuckle is deep, rough, and husky. So damn sexy, I might come just by listening to him laugh.
“You’re a responsive little toy. I like that. And your cunt is so wet, so damn hot. I can’t imagine how good you’ll feel around my big dick.” He growls. And I mean, actually growls. It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard. “Do you want to feel my whip, little Toy?”
Nodding again, I wait. He shifts, I hear the shuffling of his pants, or jeans—I’m not sure what he’s wearing. Then silence falls around me, covering me in its false sense of security because I know I’ve agreed to punishment, pleasured pain. Having no vision, makes my anticipation heighten painfully.
Moments later, the soft leather, of what I’m only guessing is a whip, trails over my ass, thighs, and calves. Lightly taunting the soles of my feet, he lifts it and with a whoosh through the air, it bites into my soles.
Another whack comes down on my calves, my thighs, and the fleshy globes of my ass. His movements are controlled, yet I can’t make out their pattern. He continues his assault, again and again sending my mind into orbit.
My clit pulses with need. I want to touch myself, I want to come. To unravel and find release, but he continues whipping me. I’m whimpering behind the gag, spit drips from my lips onto my hardened nipples.
Then, he drops it without a word. I’m tugged by my arms to a standing position. “Are you still wanting to play with Daddy?” I don’t have to think about it, I nod immediately. “Good girl.”
His shoulder makes contact with my stomach as he lifts me over his shoulder, then sets me down onto my stinging ass. The cool wooden table below me eases the burn. With both hands on my inner thighs, he spreads me wide to his gaze.
“Your cunt is perfect. I’m going to eat you, Toy. Do you understand?” All I can do is nod. What does he think? I’m going to refuse?
His mouth crashes down onto my core, suckling, licking, lapping at me like I’m a delicate feast laid out for him. He devours my pussy as if I’m his religion and he’s worshipping me. I’ve never had any man eat me out like this. His tongue darts between my slick folds, deeper each time he fucks me with it. His thumbs open my lips, and his growl is feral. A rabid dog eating his first meal after being starved for years.
He sucks my clit into his mouth, biting down on the hardened pink bud until I’m screaming behind the gag. “I’ve got myself a screamer.” He chuckles as he continues his assault on me. I’m climbing up the hill into another dimension. His index finger taunts me until he strokes down my slit and finds my puckered entrance.
After my time in hell, I’ve never allowed anyone in there. Anal was always scary because it dredged up such dark memories, but right now as he slips one long digit into my tight entrance, his teeth graze my clit and two fingers dip into my drenched core, I don’t care. All I need is release, and I find it seconds later when he violates me so fast, so deep, and so fiercely that my body spasms, and I’m coming all over his face on a loud screech of his name. At least, I think it’s his name.
Fireworks, lights, and stars dot the back of my eyelids as I convulse on this man’s face. My toes curl, trying to find grip on the smooth surface of the wood below me. My fingers are numb as I claw at something, anything. It’s as if I’m flying and there’s no gravity to bring me back down.
Moments later, as I come down from the high, I feel him slip from me, rise, and his lips brush against my ear. “Your cunt is delicious. Now you’re going to learn how to swallow my dick.”
Elijah
Her taste. Her fucking scent. I’m addicted. I want more. She’s been a good girl, keeping her eyes closed as I devoured her cunt. I’ve never tasted anything so sweet before. Besides long ago. The girl I wanted, needed, and left. Her. Shaking the memory away, I focus on the woman before me. I recall the moment my finger slipped into her tight little hole between those pert ass cheeks, I made my decision, I’m claiming this toy.
Helping her off the table, I position her on the floor on her knees. The sight is arousing, erotic, and downright filthy. I make quick work of getting out of my clothes while she waits.
I’ve never been so hard before. My cock is steel as I fist it. Reaching around, I undo the gag and set it on the table. “I’m going to train you to swallow my cock into your throat. Understand, Toy?” She nods. Gripping her hair, I tug her head back. “Answer me with words. I want to hear that pretty voice,” I order gruffly, and she shocks the shit out of me by responding perfectly.
“Yes, Daddy,” she whispers.
“Open your mouth, keep it open. I want to see you drool on my dick. Open your eyes, I want to see your beautiful eyes tear up.” She flutters those lashes and her gaze pierces me painfully. Desire and hunger swirl together like a raging thunderstorm, but it’s not loud, she’s silent. I lean in and whisper. “Do you know why I like seeing your tears?” She shakes her head no. “Because I like making pretty toys cry. I enjoy breaking th
em.”
Without further warning, I watch as her mouth opens wide and I slide straight into her throat. The tightness grips the crown of my dick, pulsing as she chokes. It’s a beautiful sound, the gagging—soft gurgling, then loud retching—and all that drool.
Her big brown eyes look scared as I grip her throat and shove my cock so far down her throat, I hear the suckling sounds of her attempting to swallow. Her hands, still bound behind her back, allows her tits to jut out beautifully, catching the spit that drips from her chin. Tears stream from her eyes and I wonder how wet she is right now.
“Such a perfect pet,” I whisper as I pull out, allowing her a moment to breathe. Then, I slide into her again, her mouth engulfing all nine inches. Her nose hits my lower abs again and again. Gripping her nose, I cut off her chance at breathing as I sink into her tight throat.
Once her eyes flutter, I pull out and watch her gasp. Her eyes meet mine then as she looks up at me. A messy toy. The streaks of black mascara look exquisite as it marks her cheeks.
“Are you going to fuck me now?” Her question is raspy.
I can’t help smiling. She’s new to this; none of my other toys would have had the audacity to ask me something like that. And as much as it would have annoyed me with any of the other girls, something about this one makes me want to teach her.
“Stand.” I watch her easily rise to her feet, even with her arms still bound behind her back. “Bend over the table.” She does. Her obedience is what I’ve been needing, searching for. It’s not forced, it’s natural. I kick her feet apart and position my cock at her pussy. The heat coming off her has me aching to drive into her. Deep into a tight hole.