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Pride and the Stranger: Book 2 in the Pride Trilogy

Page 17

by TJ Dallas


  “You know exactly what I mean,” I replied breathlessly.

  She was goading me on, hinting for me to tell her how much I was swooning for her, how weak my knees were right now. She wanted me to fan her ego, and for some inexplicable reason, I wanted to deny her. To tease her. To make her want more. My insides clenched again as I took another picture.

  “Tell me, pet.”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I know what you’re doing.”

  She sat up slowly, resting her arms on her knees as she pulled them towards her chest. Her eyes darkened as she watched me circling her again, the camera a steady set of continuous clicks now. She scowled.

  “What am I doing?”

  “You’re fishing for adoring comments. You know how sexy you are; why do I need to say it out loud?”

  “Why wouldn’t you say it out loud?” Her scowl deepened, her lips tightening to a thin line.

  I shrugged.

  “Humour me,” she growled, and I took a slight step back, never letting the camera go.

  She was getting impatient, and the intensity in her eyes was starting to overwhelm me. I clicked the shutter again.

  “We’re done here,” she snarled. “At least you got what you wanted.” She stood up and made a move towards me.

  I was startled at how fast she moved, and before the camera strap had tightened, stopping its descent to the floor, she towered over me. I swallowed hard. Had I gone too far?

  She glared for a split-second before she let out an animalistic growl and stormed towards the door. I watched her leave, my breath shallow. Jeez, what is up with her these days? That was one hell of a mood swing if ever I’d seen one.

  I flinched as the door slammed.

  A week later, and the team had just finished cleaning up after an exceptionally busy night in the club. It was already quarter to five in the morning before we flattened the last of the cardboard boxes and started gathering our belongings from the staffroom.

  As we waited for Harry to appear from her office, Zoe and Melissa sidled up beside me. Melissa was Zoe’s oldest cousin, and Zoe had invited her to wait behind to talk to Harry. My gaydar had gone off as soon as I’d seen her at the wedding (it had gotten more accurate over the past two years), and I knew that Melissa was hoping for a job. She wasn’t, as the cliché goes, “out and proud,” but she wanted to be. Harry was the perfect woman for the job, literally being Pride and all. I smiled.

  “How are you feeling?”

  Melissa looked nervous, and she fiddled with the bottom of her blouse. “I just hope Harry likes me.”

  “She’ll love you, don’t worry.”

  As if on cue, Harry appeared from her office, unfastening the top button of her shirt. Melissa exhaled beside me, and I grinned. I knew the thoughts racing through her mind as the bare skin at Harry’s throat became visible.

  Harry approached, and the crowd turned to face her. “Sorry for keeping you waiting, but you absolutely smashed the target tonight. Forty-four thousand pounds, and I’ve still got one till left to count.” She chuckled as we cheered. “A fantastic night. Off you go.” Everyone stood up, turning to leave. “Melissa?”

  Melissa held her breath, but Zoe gave her hand a squeeze. Go on, she mouthed.

  Melissa nodded, swallowing hard as she turned to face Harry. They sat at a nearby table, and we tried our best to eavesdrop without looking over. Melissa was nervous enough, and I don’t think having her cousin and her cousin’s wife listening in to her job interview would help calm her down.

  We heard Melissa talk for a few minutes about past experience, and Harry listened quietly. Harry asked a few questions, and we noted Melissa’s voice getting stronger as she relaxed. Eventually, they both went quiet, and I couldn’t help but sneak a glance.

  Harry’s brow was furrowed as her finger stroked her bottom lip. She was silent for a long time before she finally spoke. “I don’t have any positions available at the minute,” she said, and my heart sank.

  Zoe met my gaze, her eyes wide in shock. She’d told me that Harry never turned down anyone who needed her help, whether they knew they needed her help or not. Melissa’s face dropped as well, and she struggled to hide her disappointment.

  “But I think there might be something available downstairs; come with me.” Harry stood up and motioned for Melissa to follow.

  Melissa caught my eye as she walked past, and I shrugged in confusion.

  It was a tense ten minutes until Harry finally returned, and Zoe jumped up. “What happened? Isn’t she gay?”

  “Oh, she’s definitely gay.” Harry laughed. “But she needs Georgia’s help before she needs mine.”

  Zoe and I looked at each other again, the bewilderment clear on our faces.

  “Melissa hasn’t told anyone, but she’s anorexic,” Harry said. “Any longer, and her health will start to deteriorate, quite rapidly. I’ve told her that I’ll keep her in mind if something comes up, so don’t worry; I will take her on after she’s spent a few months with Georgia, but Georgia will help her put some weight on first.”

  I hadn’t thought to question Melissa’s thin frame, I just thought she was tall. But now that I thought about it, she was exceptionally skinny, and a little gaunt around the face. Zoe was silent beside me, chewing the inside of her cheek.

  “Didn’t you know?” I asked softly, and Zoe shook her head.

  “No. I thought she’d have told me.” She looked disheartened, and I pulled her into a hug.

  “She hasn’t told anyone, pet,” Harry soothed. “She had it well hidden, and it took me a while to find it when I quested towards her. She doesn’t know that I know, of course, so don’t tell her I told you. Georgia’s aware of the situation, and she’ll take care of it.”

  Zoe nodded, swallowing hard. I squeezed her hand as I stood up, leaning down to pick up my bag. “She’ll be up here with us soon, and then you can teach her Ring of Fire.”

  Zoe chuckled. “She was the one who taught me.”

  “Oh. Well, hopefully she plays better than you, and I can watch you drink for the King for once.”

  She punched me playfully, but her shoulders relaxed.

  “Come on, let’s go home. I’m exhausted.”

  “Lara? A quick word?”

  I frowned again, looking around. Harry gestured her head towards her office, and my stomach dropped. Here’s where I get in trouble for the photoshoot disaster. I hadn’t been on my own with Harry for the past week, trying nonchalantly to not get isolated with her.

  I nodded, and Zoe hovered beside me, anxiously looking between us. “Go and start the car; I’ll be down in two minutes,” I said, but I knew my smile didn’t reach my eyes.

  Zoe hesitated, but she soon left, pulling the front door closed. I followed Harry to her office and sank into the chair.

  “I wanted to apologise for my behaviour the other day,” Harry said, leaning against her desk. “I know I’ve told you before that I don’t deal in regrets, but it’s not quite true. I’ve felt bad about it for days, and I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

  The tension evaporated from my shoulders. “It’s OK. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you how sexy you are.”

  “Do you want to tell me now?” she asked, a wicked twinkle in her eye. “Actually, no. Don’t answer that.”

  I laughed. “You know you’re never far from my mind.”

  She smiled, and we were both quiet for a moment, before she spoke again. “Are you going to tell me what you wished for? With the eyelash at your wedding? Or are you scared it won’t come true?” she teased. “I’ve wanted to know for ages, but I keep forgetting to ask.”

  I giggled. I’d forgotten about that. “I actually wished for someone to walk me down the aisle,” I admitted.

  Harry grinned. “So you did wish for me?”r />
  “I didn’t know who—” I quickly stopped myself. “Yes, I wished for you.”

  “Nice save, smart arse.” She rolled her eyes. “Go on, get out of here before that smart arse gets you in more trouble.”

  Lust

  PART 4

  Lust

  16

  Althea

  As soon as I shut the door to the chamber, I put a solemn expression on my face. I took a moment to compose myself and get into character before rounding to face Harry. She glanced at the floor before I could catch her gaze.

  I walked in a slow circle around her. The flogger in my hand trailed along the outside of my thigh, the tight leather of my corset squeaking in the silence. The flogger was one of my favourite toys: a pink-and-black handle with numerous thin suede tails, perfect for light BDSM play. Harry would never say no to a whipping; she loved it rough, but it was an awkward tool, and the mirrored chamber we currently occupied wasn’t big enough to wield it properly. She would get what she was given.

  Harry swallowed, averting her gaze as the anticipation rose. The first stage of our game was always troublesome for her. She had to resist the impulse to take control and dominate, and instead, she had to learn how to obey.

  “Tell me your safe word,” I said, breaking the silence.

  “Horseshoe.”

  “Good. Why are you still standing?”

  She dropped to her knees, her eyes flickering to the knee-high leather boots around my calves as I circled her again. I flicked my wrist, the flogger grazing her back, and she winced, arching away from the gentle sting. I knew it wasn’t painful, but it caught her off-guard.

  I forced down a smile, lest she caught my expression in the mirror. Pride loved to watch herself fucking, and getting fucked, and the mirrored chamber was her favourite. But for now, she kept her gaze down.

  “Why are you here?” I asked.

  “To be punished.”

  “Why are you getting punished?”

  “For disobeying.”

  I switched her with the flogger again, and a small groan escaped her throat. “Try again.”

  “For disobeying, Mistress.”

  “Better.”

  She couldn’t stop herself from stealing a peek in the mirror. I’d known she would, and I matched her gaze in the reflection.

  I tilted my head. “Did I permit you to look?”

  “No, Mistress.”

  “So why are you still looking?” The flogger grazed her back again, and she lowered her eyes to the floor.

  I circled her for a few more minutes, just observing. She didn’t look again, and I couldn’t withhold a smirk. I took some time to admire her. Her hands curled and uncurled as she sought to behave, and I recognised the effort it was causing her.

  But she couldn’t refute the powerful orgasm that would take her soon. Being forced to renounce authority to a Mistress was one of her fantasies, and I was happy to oblige.

  “Strip.” I turned my back on her, listening as she stood up and unbuttoned her jeans. It would drive her crazy, my blatant disinterest to watch her get naked. She loved to be the centre of attention. Placing the handle of the flogger between my teeth, I opened the drawer, pulling out a thick black ribbon.

  When I heard silence behind me, I turned, pleased to see her kneeling again. I secured the ribbon around her eyes, smiling at the resultant flush of pink on her collarbone.

  Now that she couldn’t see, I took another moment to marvel at her. My pulse quickened as I studied her, starting another slow stride, the heels of my boots clicking on the stone floor. Her head tilted as she took notice, her chest rising and falling faster than it was a minute ago.

  I cracked the flogger, the resultant shock producing a small hiss of surprise from her throat. The blindfold intensified the impact, and the tension rose when she wasn’t sure when to expect another lashing. There was barely a mark on her back from the contact, but goosebumps covered her skin.

  “Stand up,” I commanded.

  She stood, her shoulders tense. I could tell she expected another lash, but it wasn’t forthcoming. The suspense of waiting was exquisite.

  While she braced herself for the sting on her back, she wasn’t predicting the hand on her chest, driving her backward. She stumbled but caught her footing as her back found the wall, a considerable breath escaping from her chest with the impact. She let out a small groan and then recoiled as she realised what she’d done.

  “Silence.”

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  “I said silence,” I snarled. She waited for the correction. Again, I let her wait, anticipation rising for my next move. “Hold out your wrists.”

  Her arms shook as she raised them in front of her, swallowing hard. I lifted them above her head, clipping the cuffs in place, restraining her against the wall. She pulled against them, assessing the length. She couldn’t move them far, and I smiled. They were strong, and she didn’t stand a chance at getting out of them, no matter how hard she tried. I knew they would support her weight.

  “What do you need to do?” I asked.

  “Everything you tell me, Mistress.”

  “Very good. Are you feeling strong?”

  “Always.” She struggled to mask a smirk.

  I grabbed her throat, sinking my nails into her skin, and she choked, trying to draw a breath. “Answer that again.”

  “Yes, I’m feeling strong, Mistress,” she gasped.

  I let her go. “We’ll see about that.”

  I took a step back, watching her hair descending over her shoulders. Her chest heaved, perspiration starting to form, delicate wisps of hair sticking to the side of her face. She clenched her thighs together, a meek attempt at modesty, and I grinned. She’s learning.

  “I don’t remember allowing your feet to touch the floor,” I murmured, raising my eyebrows and enjoying the moment of confusion on her face.

  She pondered too long, and I stepped forward, digging a heel into the top of her foot.

  She growled, trying to retract it, and I saw the point when realisation hit her. I lifted my heel, and she bent her knees, placing both feet on the wall behind her, her biceps tensing as she held herself up, suspended from the cuffs. I stroked the flogger along the inside of her thighs.

  “Wider.”

  She repositioned her feet, opening herself to me, and my pussy soaked. My insides clenched, the musky scent of her arousal reaching my nose. She was dripping wet already.

  “Why are you turned on? Do you think this is a game?”

  “No, Mistress.” Her voice wavered, the knuckles on her fists turning white with the exertion of holding herself up, with nothing to support her except her own strength. Her thighs shook, and a drop of sweat slid down her cleavage. I regarded its gradual descent.

  I set the flogger aside, reached for a small bullet vibrator, and kneeled in front of her. I heard her heavy breath as I pressed my lips to the sensitive skin on the inside of her thighs. She flinched, expecting something sharper. She tasted salty as more sweat gathered, her biceps starting to burn and her abdomen tightening. Switching the vibrator on, I leaned closer to her pussy. She shivered, expectation thrumming through her.

  I lowered the vibrator to my groin, holding it tight against the flimsy lace of my thong, letting out a soft murmur as pleasure washed through me.

  Harry groaned in frustration, realising the vibrator wasn’t meant for her. She still has a lot to learn, I thought.

  I flicked her clit with my tongue. Her hips bucked, her foot slipping down the wall with the shock and sweat. She forced it back in position. The wall was smooth, and she had nowhere to gain traction or leverage. She knew I wouldn’t let her drop before I was satisfied.

  I groaned, pressing the vibrator firmly against my clitoris, my heart pounding. I exhaled against her pussy, her clit swelling and pulsing. I reached f
orward again, flicking her clit a second time. She let out a moan, the erotic sound from her throat sending shock waves through my core. I pressed harder, spreading my knees wider.

  She fell silent as I groaned, kissing her labia and flicking her clitoris at odd intervals as my orgasm began to build. She was struggling to hold herself up now, sweat running down the side of her face, her jaw tight. Her foot shifted again, and she tried to resume her position, but her arms were trembling. She groaned as she attempted to haul herself back up the wall, concentration etched on her face. She bit her lip, panting hard.

  I flicked her clit a final time as an extraordinary climax fired through me. I screamed, my stomach tensing and my thighs shaking, arching over as my pussy tightened.

  I shuddered to a stop and opened my eyes. Harry hadn’t made a sound. I saw her wetness glistening on her folds, sliding down her inner thighs, the sound of me coming causing her arousal to skyrocket. Her skin was soaked in sweat, and I glanced at her arms. They were shaking, but she hadn’t moved. I grinned, my breath slowing.

  I switched the vibrator off and moved closer to her, taking hold of her knees. “Take your feet off the wall,” I said.

  She took a deep breath, her abdomen tensing as she spread her legs in front of me, but she moaned in relief as I propped her thighs on my shoulders, taking the burden from her arms. She tensed her legs around my head, and I couldn’t help but break character as I took her pussy into my mouth. She was irresistible.

  She was so wet, and I gasped as her arousal coated my tongue. I flattened it against her, licking the length of her pussy, and she whimpered. I nipped her clit between my lips as I slicked three fingers inside her, her juices ready for me.

  A guttural groan left her chest as I found her G-spot, thrusting hard against it as her clitoris swelled in my mouth. I pounded deeper, her moans getting more high-pitched and desperate.

 

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