by Nikki Chase
“Thank you.” I notice his eyes narrowing and add, “Sir. Thank you, Sir.”
“Very good. You’re learning.”
I hesitate. “May I see your face too, Sir?”
Matt strokes my hair gently. “Yes. If you take off all your clothes for me.”
My jaw drops. He wants me to what?
Matt walks away, his steps silent as he approaches the chair in the corner, the sound absorbed by the walls. He sprawls on the leather, draping his arms on the back of the chair.
He watches me with unblinking eyes, his face hidden behind the sinister Minotaur mask. The air between us buzzes with electricity.
I finger the scalloped lace hem of my babydoll lingerie. I mean what’s the big deal, right? He’s already seen about eighty percent of my naked body. The lace is pretty much see-through, except for the parts over my naughty bits.
And naughty is exactly what I want to be tonight.
Besides, Matt’s gaze sears his lust on my skin. He lights a flame so hot all I want to do is shed my clothes anyway.
Matt’s eyes follow my hands as I pull the hem up my body and lift the flimsy fabric over my head, letting it fall soundlessly to the floor. In the mirror, I catch a glimpse of my heavy breasts.
“Look at me,” Matt growls. “And take your panties off.”
I do as he says and sit back down, squeezing my thighs together—it helps me feel less exposed and relieves a little of the pressure building in my core.
“Spread your legs for me.”
Matt reaches a hand down and rubs the bulge tenting the front of his pants. “You like watching what you’re doing to me?” he asks, arrogance dripping from his tone. “You like it so much you ignore my order?”
“Sorry, Sir.” I rip my gaze off his erection as I spread my thighs, revealing my most private place.
“It was a yes or no question.”
I fight through the throbbing in my throat. “Yes, Sir.”
“Play with yourself.” His gaze fixes on my pussy. His jaw tightens. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he swallows.
I’ve never done that before. But then again, I’ve also never followed a cocky stranger through a BDSM club and into a bedroom specifically designed for sex.
“Aren’t you going to take off your mask too, Sir?” I ask, my heartbeat so loud it’s all I can hear. I stare, unblinking, as Matt transforms from Minotaur to man.
And, my God, what a man.
His blue eyes look even more striking with his golden skin as the background. Dark hair, thick on the top of his head and neatly trimmed along his strong jawline. High cheekbones.
What’s a man like him doing with me?
“Now, play with yourself, kitten,” Matt says, reminding me of my task.
My fingers travel south. My cheeks burn with embarrassment, but I push on, slipping my index and middle fingers between my legs, over my soaked folds. My lips part, letting out a sigh, as I rub myself.
I’ve decided to be a different person tonight. And more importantly, I get this urge from deep in my soul to follow Matt’s every command. The idea of a man having full control of me has always appealed to me, but in practice, it has always felt wrong . . . until now.
I’m so wet I’m probably leaving a wet spot on this chest, even though Matt’s still seated all the way on the other side of the room.
I don’t want to mess this up. This could very well be my only chance in life to enjoy this exquisite experience, to have someone give me the permission to do things so dirty I’ve never even dared to imagine them before.
The sound of Matt unzipping pierces my concentration. I snap my gaze to find him pulling out an impossibly big cock. He shuttles his fist up and down.
My mouth fills with saliva at the sight. My muscles throb, yearning to be filled up. A moan escapes my lips.
Matt sheds his pants, socks, and shoes. He crosses the room and stands right in front of me, his cock at my eye level, so close I could see the throbbing of its veins, smell the sensual musk.
My jaw drops open, saliva gathering in my mouth.
But before I can ask to take his cock inside me, Matt drops to the floor and presses his hot lips against my thigh. His scruff grazes my skin. His tongue slippery.
When he reaches the top, I gasp. He sucks my lips into his mouth and licks me all over, like a starved man.
I let him devour me, putting my hand on his soft hair as I watch our reflection in the mirror, his head buried between my legs as my face flushes with color.
The sight, along with the insistent circling of his tongue around my clit, boils my blood. I’m close. So, so close. My muscles tense up. The pressure builds. And then . . . it’s gone.
Matt smirks at me. He knows exactly what he was doing. He knew I was about to come.
“Please . . .” I moan before I can stop myself.
“What is it, kitten? You wanted to come?” he asks.
I nod.
“Get on your hands and knees.” Matt points at the patch of floor between the chest and the mirror.
The thick pile of the carpet gives way under my weight. It’s soft as clouds.
Smack!
I jump in surprise as stinging heat burns my ass. I look in the mirror to find Matt’s palm hovering in the air, a lopsided smile on his handsome face.
“That was for the first time you forgot to address me properly.” Matt rests his palm on my ass cheek, the warmth of his skin a soothing balm for my skin. To my surprise, the throbbing in my pussy pulses even more intense than before.
He pulls his hand back, readying for a second blow. “You can stop this if you want to. But we both know you like it, don’t you?”
Smack!
I bite my lip as Matt caresses my ass cheek. But then his fingers wander closer and closer to my back door until he’s pressing inside me. Dry.
What was it again? “Yellow!” I cry out with urgency.
Matt chuckles. “Good. I just wanted to make sure you remember the safe words. Ready to continue?”
I nod.
“Say it with words.”
“Yes, Si—”
I yelp as another slap hits my ass.
“Good girl. That was the last one. You took it like a very good girl,” he says. “Now, I wanted to take this slow, but I can’t hold back anymore. You’re dripping all over the carpet. We can’t have that, can we?”
I shake my head. “No, Sir.” God, I need him inside me, like, right this second.
Lucky for me, Matt seems to have the same idea. He enters me with one urgent thrust, his girth forcing my muscles to open up for him.
I moan as he fills me up fuller than I’ve ever felt. He hits bottom, his balls slapping against me, knocking the wind out of me. If he were just a fraction of an inch bigger, I’d burst.
Matt grips my hips so hard it hurts, but the pain only makes the pleasure sweeter. He stares at me in the mirror, reminding me to meet his gaze as he rams into me again and again. At some point, the heat becomes too much and he takes off his shirt.
I didn’t think he could be more gorgeous than he already was, but he looks even better shirtless. He’s built like a Greek god, with hard, six-pack abs and a sculpted, V-shaped ridge connecting his hip bones.
“Look me in the eyes,” Matt growls as he takes a fistful of my hair, tilting my head up, forcing me to gaze further up from where his magnificent abs are.
The pressure in my scalp builds, complementing the clenching of my pussy muscles as I climb closer to the peak. Matt’s grip on my hair is firm but not painful. It’s primal. Animalistic. It reminds me who’s in control.
I push my ass back to take in more of him, crying out when he responds by fucking me harder and deeper. Matt slips his hand between my legs and plays with my clit, sending me to orbit.
My body shudders as he continues to pound into me. My muscles clench around his thick cock. My mouth opens in a silent scream as I forget how to breathe. The room spins into a blur until all that exists is M
att, me, and the fucking.
He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me up until my back presses against his sweat-covered chest. He thrusts up into me as gravity pushes me down deep onto him.
“Fuck. You’re amazing, kitten,” he growls as he empties himself into me, filling me with his gooey orgasm.
I sigh and collapse against him. As I fight to catch my breath, shivers come out of nowhere and wrack through me.
Oh my God. I’ve never come this hard before. Ever.
Who is this mysterious man? He saved me, he seduced me, and he gave me the best orgasm of my life—all in one night?
Too bad I’ll never see him again.
Don’t get attached, I tell myself. Just be grateful this happened at all.
Matteo
Ashley shivers against my chest. Damn, her body is so responsive. And the way she looked at me—I could get drunk off that sweet submission in her green eyes.
I watch as she catches her breath, her round, perfect tits rising up and down to the rhythm, expecting that same sweetness in her gaze.
But then her eyes shutter open. Right away, her eyes fix on the watch curled around her wrist. In an instant, I know everything has changed.
“I need to leave,” she announces, getting up and gathering her clothes.
“There’s no need to hurry,” I say. “Let me buy you a drink. We’ll enjoy the show in the main hall, chat a little, and I’ll drive you home.”
Her eyes widen. “I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“I just . . . I need to go home.”
“Let me take you home.” I grab my clothes and put them on as fast as I can. I may have to follow her out of here.
“No,” she bursts.
“Tell me why, or I’ll drag you to my car myself.” I’m only half-joking. It’s not like I’m kidnapping her. I just want to take her home . . . and find out where she lives.
“My family, they’re really conservative. They’ll freak out if they see you,” she says, slipping her feet into her heels. She’s already wearing her lingerie. I know she’ll have to visit the restrooms, where the lockers are, before leaving the premises.
“They’ll freak out if they see you coming home on a weekend with a guy?” I frown. That’s unbelievably conservative. “Wait. You live with your family?”
“Yeah. I told you. Really conservative.” Ashley grabs the brass knob and turns it, but the door doesn’t budge. She stands aside, her fingers gouging into her forearms. She’s not faking; she really is nervous “Would you mind opening the door for me?”
I push my key through the lock. I could choose not to do that, of course, and I could keep her as my hostage inside this room forever. But I won’t do that. I want her to give me her submission willingly.
“What’s with your family? Religious?” I ask as I hold the door open.
Ashley flies out the room, and I follow, realizing I’m barefoot as soon as my skin makes contact with the cool marble. “Nope. Just weird.”
“Weird how?” I know weird families. Hell, mine is more insane than most. I’ll bet I can handle hers just fine. She’d be worth the trouble.
“Smothering. Overbearing. Demanding.” She stands at the double doors leading to the public area.
“Look, my family’s the same way. I had my own life somewhere else, and they wanted me to come home, stat, so now I’m here. I don’t even know why they want me home.” I cram my words into the seconds that tick by as I unlock the double doors. I hold on to the knob, trapping her gaze. Get to the point. “I need to see you again, kitten.”
“Me too,” she says softly.
Relief courses through my veins. That’s all I need to know for now. I can’t let this goddess slip through my fingers, this magical girl who’s somehow both sexy and innocent, all at once. I’ve never met anyone quite like her.
I pull the door open. “Give me your number.”
Ashley’s hips sway from side to side like a pendulum as she makes her way through the crowd. “I can’t.”
“You can’t even give me your number? Your family won’t even let you take calls? Receive text messages?” I find that hard to believe. It’s the twenty-first century. There are thirteen-year-olds regularly accessing hardcore porn on their gadgets, and Ashley’s obviously in her twenties.
Ashley stops in the midst of her climb up the stairs. On both sides of us, people are either watching the sex unfolding on the stage behind me or enacting something sexy themselves. I wish Ashley and I could join them, my lips against her ear whispering something dirty while my fingers slip inside her panties.
“I wish I could. I swear, Matt,” she says, sincerity gleaming in her green eyes. “I’ve had to put up with these restrictions my whole life. Sometimes, I’m so frustrated I think about just disappearing. Start a new life somewhere without my family.”
I know exactly how she feels.
She huffs a short laugh. “That’s just a dumb thought I have sometimes. Forget I ever said that.”
“Will they really find out if I contact you?”
“I can’t risk it,” she says, glancing at her watch yet again.
I pat my pockets and find a piece of paper and a pen. “I need to see you again, Ashley.” I press the paper into her delicate hand. “Promise me you’ll call me.”
Ashley looks back at me, sadness breaking through the barrier she puts up against the world. There’s a crack in her shell—just a hairline fracture, but it might just be enough.
“I don’t want to get you in trouble, but I need to see you again. You said you want that too,” I remind her. “Or was that a lie?”
“I do want to see you again,” she says, her voice earnest.
I stroke her hand with my thumb. “So call me.”
Ashley hesitates, but then she nods.
“You’ll call? Promise me.”
“I promise. I’ll call you.” Ashley drags air into her lungs and sighs as though she doesn’t want this moment to end. “I have to go, Matt.”
I nod. I’ll let her go. For now.
Grace
Two Weeks Later
Squeezing the phone in my hand until the metal digs into my flesh, I tell myself the same thing I’ve been repeating for two whole weeks:
I should call him.
Since I found out earlier this week, the mantra has grown longer.
I should call him. He should know.
Oh, God. How did I get myself into this mess?
I mean I know how, of course. I was right there when it happened. And I know how human reproduction works.
But how could I have been this stupid?
The door creaks open. As my mom steps into my room, I drop my phone onto the bed. “Mom, how many times do I have to tell you to knock before—”
“What have you done?” she cuts me off, moving so swiftly her knee-length, floral dress billows as she moves. My mom always dresses like she’s about to go out, even if she spends most of her day on the couch in front of the TV—her spine zipped up straight, of course.
Her back pushes the door shut.
I frown. Does she know what I was about to do, who I was about to call?
I feign ignorance, staying still on my perch on the edge of the bed. “What are you talking about?”
It’s the best course of action when I have no idea what I’ve done wrong in the eyes of my family.
When I was eight, my mom asked me a similar question, and I started apologizing about a bowl I had broken, the sharp, jagged pieces shoved inside a random kitchen cabinet.
As it turned out, she hadn’t found out about that. She had just seen the bag of dog food I had left on the floor, which Sparky had of course gotten into.
“Did you think you could really hide something like this?” she holds up a white piece of plastic about the size of a pen.
My blood curdles. “How did you—”
“The maids were emptying the trash cans, and they found it inside the one in your bathroom.�
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Damn it. I can get no privacy in this house.
“Tell me it wasn’t positive,” she demands. The mattress dips as she sits beside me, her hand gripping my arm.
My eyes mist. Oh, no. I can’t hold it in.
“Oh, Grace.” Mom pulls me into a maternal embrace, her soft body giving me a cushion on which to fall. “What have you done, honey? What have you done?”
“I was dumb. I’m so sorry.” My voice is shaky. Tears roll down my cheeks. I’ve been holding it in, keeping this secret to myself. Restless days. Sleepless nights.
I didn’t think I could tell anyone. But now that my mom’s here, and she seems to understand, maybe everything will be fine.
“You know you have to get rid of it, right?” she asks, her voice piercing through the bubble of my impossible daydream.
I pull away and stare at her. “Mom. How could you even suggest that?”
“Grace, you’ve done something stupid. Don’t double down on your stupidity,” she says. Obviously, she has thought about this course of action before confronting me. “You know honor is everything, and you have dishonored important people by doing what you did.”
“Mom.” I can’t believe what I’m hearing. “I can’t do what you’re suggesting. I’m not going to do that just because of some feeble idea of honor held by men with oversized egos.”
Her lips flatten into a displeased line. “You know you’ve done wrong, Grace. Don’t defend what’s indefensible.”
“You know, I’ve only done what millions of other women are doing out there. Look outside for once, Mom. Outside those tall fences. It’s not the fifties anymore.”
“You are not other women. You know that.” An undercurrent of rage rushes under the placid surface of her calm.
I glare at her.
“It’s not fair. But then again, life’s not fair,” Mom says. “Everybody has their own share of difficulties in life. Accept your lot, and you’ll be happier for it.”
Anger burns hot in my stomach, but I bite back my acidic words.
“We live in a world where right and wrong doesn’t matter. There are only consequences.” She enunciates every word. “The consequences of an illegitimate pregnancy when you’re already engaged to be married to another man—a powerful man—are serious.”