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Steal Me (Longshadows Book 1)

Page 10

by Natalia Banks


  “I’m an alpha male,” he declared before slurping the beer, a bit of foam clinging to his nose. “It’s the law of nature, what can I tell you?” Kat just nodded, trying not to laugh.

  “Is this your first time?” Dale asked with a cocky air about him that made Kat cringe.

  Her brows rose, and they shared a little, knowing chuckle. “No, I mean, your first time…in the underground.”

  “The underground?”

  “Yeah, you know what I mean, the dark side.”

  “Well, I suppose I’ve spent most of my life in the rebel camp, but I’m not against, y’know, switching over to the dark side.”

  Dale laughed again, snorting several times before taking another drink. He eyed her glass of chardonnay, sitting untouched. “You’re not gonna make me drink alone?”

  That’s not the only thing I’m gonna let you do on your own, Mr. Alpha Male, Kat was tempted to say.

  He looked her over with what she believed he thought was a very wry, sexy expression: one brow raised, half a smile digging up into his cheek. “Believe me,” he said in a different voice than he used before—lower and more delicately sexy, “I know what you want.”

  “Is that so?” Kat indulged him.

  Dale set his beer aside and leaned forward. Kat leaned back, bringing her wine glass with her. “You need a man to take control, to show you how truly vulnerable you can be. You need a man who’ll throw you down, tie you up, make you feel special again, make you feel the way you’ve always wanted to feel but never have.”

  For all the ridiculousness of this little man and his self-deluded swagger, she had to admit that he wasn’t far wrong. She did want those things, and hearing him say it only drove the point home. She may have wanted those things, but he wasn’t nearly the man she wanted them from. Kat looked away and downed half the glass in a single gulp.

  “You wanna be tied-up, tortured…just a little bit.” But this truth was only adding insult to injury. “You wanna be humiliated.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  He leaned back with his beer, head lolling cocky on his narrow shoulders. “You wanna feel how powerless you really are, how worthless. You wanna be smothered with my ass right in your face, don’t you? You want me to stand over your body, so I can piss right in your mouth—”

  One more gulp emptied the glass. “Yeah, I gotta go.” Kat was on her feet, purse in her hand, before she even realized it.

  He turned and whined out, “Hey, where’re you goin’?”

  “Hi, baby,” Kat said very sexily into her own cell phone, once more in the safety and relative sanctity of her own bedroom. “What’s your name, hon?”

  “It’s…um…Jim; I’m Jim.”

  She smiled, not because she was amused but because Jackie had assured her that it would come across in her voice. And she had clowned for enough children to know how to force a smile for hours on end, just another quality that Jackie assured made her perfect for the job. “Hi, Jim.”

  “Hi.”

  “So, what kind of things do you want to talk about, Jim?”

  He paused, and he seemed even to Kat, like a first-timer, maybe even a virgin. “I wanna talk about you and me.”

  “Okay, Jim,” she said, deliberately stretching out the phone call as instructed. She didn’t like doing it, as the charge was by the minute. But she also knew it was the waiting that made the arrival. She was ready to make the suspense as terrible as she could and make it last as long as possible. “What about you and me?”

  “I, uh, wanna talk about you reaching into my pants and pulling out my cock.”

  That took her a little by surprise, but it passed quickly as the reality of her job, and the aspects of her new reality rose to the fore. And, she imagined, they weren’t alone. She cooed into the phone. “Oh, Jim, it’s so big; I don’t think I can take it all.”

  “Suck it,” Jim said, with a new strength, and Kat began making sexy moaning sounds, slurping sounds, trying not to break out laughing. “Yeah,” Jim said on the other end of the line, “oh yeah, that’s good…” She could hear his shortness of breath—an odd, repetitive sound she could identify only by common sense.

  “Oh, you’re so delicious,” she said, trying to sound enthusiastic and engaged, which she knew was key to a performance worth giving, or a life worth living.

  “Did I ask?” The voice was different, instantly recognizable as Carter Fields. She started daydreaming and reminiscing about her time with the incredible Mr. Fields.

  “I—”

  “Shshshsh, quiet,” he said in a sexy rasp, “don’t make me hurt you.” For the first time in a while, a rush of warmth passed through her body, some areas more than others.

  “Okay,” she said, nearly breathless.

  “You see what this is?”

  “I-I can’t see through this blindfold.”

  He chuckled a little bit, low and in the very back of his throat. The loud crack of a leather belt told Kat instantly what it was. “Please…don’t.”

  “Don’t what?”

  “Don’t…” Kat’s mind began to flash from one possibility to the next. Is he going to whip me? Strangle me?

  “You’ve been a very bad girl,” he growled in her inner ear, “and you have to be punished.”

  “Please…”

  “Bend over,” he said with less warmth and more of an authoritarian snap. “Right here, over my knee.”

  Oh, she realized, of course. She imagined herself bending naked over his lap, her ass up and ready for the first strike of that leather instrument of discipline. She sat rigid, nervously awaiting that first thwack, the suspense terrible if not lasting.

  Smack!

  Kat could virtually feel the stinging pain shooting through her ass and into her crotch, ricocheting up into her body.

  Smack!

  She only then realized that her free hand had found her pussy, and that she was massaging herself vigorously, eyes dipping shut, almost oblivious to her surroundings.

  “Hello? Hello?” It was a man’s voice, but not Carter’s. “Hey, what’s going on here?”

  “Oh, um, sorry, hon,” she said, trying to shake it off and get back into character. “I was just sucking on your big, juicy cock—”

  “No, I was fucking you up the ass. What are you, drunk? What kind of bullshit phone sex line is this?”

  “I’m sorry, I…your cock is just so big, I can’t think straight. Oh, keep fucking me, baby—”

  “Oh knock it off. I wanna talk to your supervisor.”

  “My—?”

  “Yeah, that’s right, I know how these things work. Put me over to your supervisor.”

  “I-I’m not sure how to do that, I’m new—”

  “Well, don’t bother. I’ll call back and deal with it personally. I’m gonna get my money back for this, you bitch.” A click and a dead line punctuated his sentence.

  Kat decided to meet Ben at The Cloisters, an outdoor branch of The Metropolitan Museum of Art. They spent a peaceful though slightly awkward half hour wandering around the medieval art and architecture and strolling through the peaceful gardens. Stained glass and famed unicorn tapestries gave every glance its own little reward.

  “I’m really glad you called,” Ben said, more cheerful than she’d ever seen him. “This is…this is nice, y’know? Feels right.”

  “It’s nice to see you again, Ben. Seems to me we only ever spend time together when we’re working.”

  “You just noticed that now? Because, um, feels like I’ve been pointing out that we could spend more time together if you’d only wanted to.”

  “Ben!”

  “Okay, okay, I don’t mean to complain. Hey, the best things in life take time, right?” She couldn’t disagree with that, turning her attention to the light spring breeze instead, a pigeon fluttering by overhead. “Worth waiting for though.”

  “Ben, I know you’re excited, and I am too. But I guess there’s something I should tell you,” she admitted, wanting to be comple
tely transparent with him.

  “You’re pregnant?”

  “No, Ben, no but, well, recently I had a…a little tryst, I guess you could call it.”

  “A tryst? Not with Marvin?”

  “Mitchell? No, Ben, not with Mitchell. I, um, I didn’t actually know him, I guess I should say.”

  “Like a one-night stand.”

  She chewed on that for a second. “Kind of, yeah. And, well, it made me reconsider things…things with you, for example.”

  They strolled on, the gardens stretched out around them. “Well, okay, whatever.”

  “But I hope you’ll understand if I wanna take things kind of slow.”

  A few more feet passed, her nerves and muscles tightening just a bit. He finally said, “Okay, I get that, that’s fair. But, I mean, we’ve known each other for years, Kathleen, almost all the time you’ve been here. That’s a decade; how much more slowly can we possibly go?”

  “We were just friends, then we were business partners. But this is different, this is a whole different kind of relationship, and I just want to make sure we don’t move too fast and ruin what we’ve got.”

  Ben forced a smile, clearly biting back on his growing frustration. “Oooooo-kaaaaaay, sssoooooo, does that mean no hand job in the rose garden?” There was a stiff silence before an even stiffer chuckle. “Honestly though, don’t you think we’re past all that first-date crap?”

  “No, Ben, I don’t. What did you think, I was just going to fall down and spread my legs for you?”

  Ben looked around. “Well, not here.” This time they looked at each other and neither one laughed. “Kat, you know I’ve been waiting a long time.”

  “I thought you said you’d decided I was right.”

  “So sue me. I’m in love with you, awright? I always have been and I always will be. What more do you want me to say?”

  “No more, actually. Less, if possible—a lot less.”

  Ben rolled his eyes, arms flopping to his chubby sides. “Oh, y’know what? That’s it, I’ve had it!”

  “Ben, take it easy, we’re just talking—”

  “Yeah, and that’s all we’ll ever do. You’re staying, you’re leaving, you’re a virgin, you’re a whore—”

  “Ben!”

  “I don’t care anymore, Kat, I’m sick of this. I’m not gonna wait around for you, fawn after you, pull up your slack while the business I helped you create falls apart!”

  “You’re the one who needed to go on all those auditions,” she pointed out.

  “That’s right, and one of the things I was gonna tell you today”—his voice got louder, words coming faster—“one of the things I was so goddamned fucking happy about today, was that I was gonna tell you I got a gig, on an off-Broadway revival of The Producers.”

  “As Max?”

  “Yes,” Ben barked back, “as fucking Max—one of the two leads!”

  “Really? Oh Ben, that’s great, congratulations—”

  She wanted to hug him, and even tried, but Ben just stepped back, hands up and palms flat to stop her in her tracks. “Don’t bother to kiss my ass now; it won’t work.”

  “Kiss your—? Ben, I’m happy for you; that’s great news!”

  “Yeah, it is,” Ben said, his voice returning to a reasonable volume but still seething with a panted and long-suppressed anger. “It’s great, actually; it’s a big step up for me. But don’t think you’re gonna benefit from it, not one bit. You weren’t there for my struggle; don’t expect to be there for my success.”

  “Ben, it’s not that at all—”

  “And now you’ve had a change of heart, huh? Now maybe I’m not such a dumb, fat loser.”

  “I never thought that, Ben. It’s very cruel to even say that,” she said, genuinely surprised at how quickly things escalated.

  “The truth hurts, sweetheart.” Ben started walking backward, away from her for what seemed like the last time. “I’ll see you in court over the company; don’t think you’re just going to walk away with that too—make me look like a total fool.”

  “Ben—” Kat tried to regain control of the situation, but knew it was a losing battle.

  “No, you’re the fool, Kathleen Le Fleur; you’re the loser. Adios.” He turned and walked farther into the garden and out of her life. She stood there, embarrassed and alone after the second disastrous date in a single week. Just once, she thought to herself, I’d like to have a date where we both leave at the same time.

  Chapter 13

  Carter

  Crack!

  She screamed from behind her ball gag, but the dungeon was soundproof, deep in the basement of what became known as the Longshadows Academy. It was suited with things some clients simply needed, and Rosemary McGovern was one of them.

  Crack!

  “Rrrrghghghghffffff…”

  Rosemary’s bare ass was sticking out over the back of the sawhorse, her ankles and wrists shackled in. She strained to look back, but another crack of the whip snapped her head forward again—eyes clamped shut, mouth wedged open.

  Crack!

  Carter stood in his black shorts, his muscles flexing. He’d worked out to make sure he was in peak condition, though the way Rosemary wanted things, she really couldn’t enjoy that fact. It didn’t matter to Carter anyway.

  Very few things did.

  But he knew who he was and he knew who he wasn’t, and that was as important to Carter Fields as anything. He was doing what he wanted to do, what he needed to do, and there wasn’t a force on this earth that was going to stop him, especially not Rosemary McGovern.

  Crack!

  Rosemary screamed again, a string of drool leaking down from her mouth. Her back and ass were bright red, her lean body twitching on that custom-made bondage device. She rode it like a horse, and was about to be ridden on it.

  Carter dropped the whip—a loud thunk on the dungeon floor before he dropped his shorts and sheathed his sword. He used a lubricated condom in order to hasten his entry into Rosemary’s parched little star: pink and clean, her cheeks ripe and ready. He slapped her left cheek, the snap reverberating in the dungeon along with her muffled roar. Another surprising smack inspired a similar response.

  She arched the small of her back—presenting, inviting. Another hard slap was followed by a hard knead, squeezing and squishing those powerful muscles to her painful delight.

  She was ready.

  Carter positioned the huge head of his massive cock right at the point of entry, her body tensing, readying for what she knew was coming. He pushed in, just an inch or two, just enough to wedge his erection into her. He let it linger, a promise of the pummeling to come. After a tantalizing few seconds, he pushed in farther. Rosemary groaned, body flexing, limbs pulling against her shackles as she tried not to get free. Carter slapped her ass hard again, the crack filling the dungeon.

  He pushed farther, but only a few inches. He knew it was all she could take at that point, so he pulled back and began a slow and steady rhythm, sawing his great tool back and forth, her body shivering and quivering in front of him.

  But Carter knew something was missing, something which had never been missing before. These experiences were meant for the clients, but Carter had his own reasons for being there, and the client never had anything to do with him. He wanted what he wanted and he got it; that was what mattered.

  At least, that used to be what mattered.

  But Carter felt like he was just going through the motions, the former satisfaction he’d found in his work somehow beyond his reach. But he knew what it was, or rather, who it was.

  Kathleen Le Fleur. Her friends call her Kat.

  Something about her had touched him, stuck with him—there was no denying it. The way she fought, the way she succumbed, the way she felt around his cock—different from any other woman in a way he couldn’t describe but also could not deny. He stood there in that dungeon grinding Rosemary McGovern in the ass, but he couldn’t help imagine it was Kat’s ass, her body stra
pped onto that sawhorse, her voice groaning and wheezing and mewing behind that ball gag.

  Yeah, Kat, take it! I know you love it, and I know you love me! You’ve been thinking about me all this time, haven’t you? Haven’t you?

  Yrrrsssss, she squealed in his imagination, confession muffled by the orange rubber ball.

  Are you gonna cum for me again today? Hhmmm? You gonna cum for me, so hard like the last time?

  Yrrrsssss!

  Carter started drilling harder, measured depth plunging into her tightest crevice, in and out, harder and deeper; the immobile Rosemary McGovern squealed and rattled in her bonds, crying out her orgasmic horror, legs jittery, fingers splayed at the ends of her shackled wrists.

  But in Carter’s imagination, those were Kat’s arms, strapped to the legs of that sawhorse, that was Kat’s ass he was fucking, and that made him want to fuck all the harder.

  It made him want to cum.

  Carter couldn’t obstruct a remembered flash of that pretty face—sweet and vulnerable, gorgeous dark brown hair, strong, feminine and sultry body, gorgeous in ways she didn’t even understand. Those green eyes, chin and cheeks that were so symmetrical, a face so welcoming and warm.

  And those tits, perfect and supple and soft and firm, nipples that should be hanging in the fucking Louvre.

  He fucked even harder, his body telling him what his brain already knew. Pump and groan and slap and flinch—everything became exaggerated—the sawhorse creaking beneath Rosemary’s shackled body—faster and harder—his vision of Kat so convincing that he couldn’t contain himself.

  Dww ‘t! she pushed out of her gag, cmmm fr me b’be, plzzzzzz!

  Just the imagined sound of her pleas, the vision of her writhing body in front of him was more than Carter could take. His thick, strong legs jutted a bit, very nearly losing their footing, his whole body flexed to release that massive load, filling the chamber of the condom and leaking back into the seal. But he was careful to make sure it held tight, and his body wound down from the explosive release as Rosemary’s voice became clearer in his ears. Another exhausted slap on the cheek reassured her that she could relax, and so could he.

 

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