by Sandy Lowe
Lauren was about to interrupt, but Emma shook her head vigorously. “I’m not jealous, I promise. I mean, okay, so I don’t love all the probably Hollywood-attractive women you’ve made scream, but it’s not about that.”
“Tell me what it’s about.”
“You’re this uber talented Don Juan type, and I’ve only just overcome my anxiety enough to orgasm. To be fair, I orgasmed very, very hard, so thank you for that, but still. I have some catching up to do, and I can’t promise that I won’t still have some issues to sort out. That’s going to be hard enough without adding strangers and sex clubs to the mix.”
Lauren sat back. Emma made a good point. The last thing she wanted was to make things more difficult. But Emma too often jumped to conclusions about what she liked or wanted without exploring what actually turned her on. “Okay. How about this. You make a list of all the things you’ve ever fantasized about that you’d like to do, and we’ll try some of them here. If it goes well, and it will, because you’re sexy as all fuck and I’m Don Juan, then we’ll revisit the idea of Kink’s.”
Emma took a tiny bite of bread and carefully chewed and swallowed before answering. “You’re not actually Don Juan. Don’t go getting a big head about it just because I compared you to a legendary lothario with the ability to seduce any woman he set his sights on.”
“It’s a singular talent. I try to be modest.”
Emma laughed. “You really want me to make a sex list?”
“An anything Emma wants fantasy buffet come to life list.”
“If you’re going to insist, then I’ll be forced to make the list, won’t I? But strange equipment bondage goes somewhere in the middle. I’m putting you fucking me from behind with a strap-on at the top.”
Ohfuckgodyes. Now. Now would be perfect.
Lauren took a really big gulp of wine. “Been thinking about that one, have you?”
Emma nodded. “I really enjoy it from behind. The angle is perfect and not having to look someone in the eyes helps.”
When Lauren made a choked sound, Emma poked her playfully in the ribs. “Don’t you go getting jealous now. I’ve had some nice sex with some other women too, you know.”
“Yeah. Not jealous.” Lauren shifted on the stool, suddenly wishing she’d chosen clothes a little looser, so her clit wasn’t trapped and pulsing against the seam of her jeans. God. Emma had no idea how hot she was. Or for that matter, how hot she was making Lauren.
Emma picked up their empty plates and put them in the sink. “Sounded like jealousy to me.”
“That’s a shame because it should’ve sounded like me getting turned on at the idea of watching someone fucking you from behind. You’d look amazing on your hands and knees with your ass in the air.” Lauren drained the rest of her wine in one swallow.
Emma’s wineglass almost hit the floor as she fumbled it. It was cute how clumsy she got when she was flustered. Lauren hoped it was more than flustered. Edging into the ballpark of unbearably aroused would put them on an even keel.
“You’d really want to watch someone else fuck me like that?” Emma asked.
Lauren nodded. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m still Don Juan. But yeah, it’s appealing.”
Emma huffed out a breath but failed to stop a smile. “For the last time, you’re not actually Don Juan.”
“If you say so.” She winked and took Emma’s hand to lead her to the couch. The sofa was draped with knitted throws and ancient looking pillows that just begged someone to sink into them. “It sounds like that would make you uncomfortable, someone else making you come?”
“People. Insecurity. Blah, blah.” Emma waved it away as if it didn’t matter, and then added, “Getting fucked by a stranger with your ass in the air isn’t exactly the best way to feel more secure.”
Maybe it was exactly the perfect way to feel more secure for someone like Emma, but Lauren kept that observation to herself. She knew a boundary when she heard one. Boundaries or not though, Emma was all hot and bothered. Her cheeks hadn’t cooled, and she kept shifting on the couch like she couldn’t quite get comfortable. Emma wasn’t ready, but she was sending all kinds of signals.
Lauren took a chance. “Come here.”
She threw a few of the throw cushions against the arm of the sofa, put her feet up, and gestured for Emma to settle between her thighs with her ass snugged between Lauren’s thighs.
Emma rested her head against Lauren’s chest and mumbled, “This is nice.”
“It’s about to get nicer. Close your eyes.”
Emma’s eyes drifted shut, and Lauren’s heart did a quick tap dance. Questions and conversations were good and important parts of the process, but the easy acceptance of Emma doing exactly what she was told without comment—the trust that took—was its own special pleasure. She eased up the bottom of Emma’s sweater, baring her waist and the button on her jeans. “You don’t want to go to Kink’s yet, and you don’t want to let me watch someone fuck you, but maybe you’d like to think about it if we stay right here together and imagine.”
Emma groaned, her breath already choppy. “Lauren.”
Lauren danced her fingers along the waistband of Emma’s jeans, stroking softly. “But you like it when we imagine together, don’t you? It makes you come very, very hard.”
“I don’t want—” Emma began.
“Yes, you do. You know what to say if you don’t want it. But you’re blushing and fumbling, and you can’t catch your breath, can you? I think you want to imagine being at Kink’s. I think inside you want me to tell you that you have to go… You want me to lead you through the front doors. I have my hand on the small of your back, a clear signal to everyone that you’re there with me. Mine to play with. You wore a dress you don’t like, so you won’t mind if I tear it off you. The little straps holding it up won’t take much to snap. I think you chose it on purpose, hoping I’d rip it.”
Emma squirmed, her eyelids fluttering and her legs falling open as if by instinct. Her body language was screaming for Lauren to continue, and when Lauren ran her hand down the inside of Emma’s thigh, Emma quivered.
“We find seats at the bar to do a little people watching until I decide that I’m ready to fuck you. When she walks in, your breath catches and you look away. You shift toward me and put your hand in mine. You don’t want to find her attractive. You don’t want anyone but me, and yet…”
Emma groaned and Lauren smothered a grin, stroking up and down her thigh. That’s right. All the things you want and don’t think you should have are driving you crazy, aren’t they?
“It makes me hot to know you want her. We’re here together, but why should that make either of us blind? I check her out, too. She’s on the wrong side of the equation to rock your world the way we both know you need. This one’s a slave. I can tell from the way she walks and the tilt of her head. Her wrists and neck are bare, and her skin is unmarked for now. Perhaps she’d be interested in doing a favor for a gorgeous woman who lost her breath just looking at her.
“I slide off my stool to talk to her. I ignore your squeak of protest when you reach out to stop me. Sorry. The second you saw her, you gave yourself away and now you don’t get to decide. If I want her to make you come, she will. That’s why we’re here. For whatever I want and all the things you don’t have to ask for. I know you want this. Your eyes bore into my back as I cross the room. If your stare could burn, my shirt would be aflame.”
“Lauren.” The word came out on a whisper. Emma tugged Lauren’s hand toward the apex of her thighs
“Not yet,” Lauren said. She loved seeing Emma turned on, lost and needy and not fully aware of what she was doing. She loved the Emma who could let go, the Emma who could embrace her sexuality and be true to her desire. How much Emma had changed—her surrender almost effortless, her passion quick to surface.
Lauren kept going, kept pushing Emma to face her unfaceable desires, just a little, just in theory. She could give Emma this.
“The slave disap
pears through an unmarked doorway, and I stroll back to the bar for my scotch. I’m looking right at you, waiting. I know you want to ask. You’re burning inside to ask, to prepare yourself. But you surprise me—and please me—when you stare right back, saying nothing. That’s when I decide I’m going to reward you. My good girl who doesn’t ask questions that aren’t hers to have answered.”
Lauren kept her promise by popping the button on Emma’s jeans and sliding her hand inside, cupping Emma’s pussy. Emma’s panties were already damp, and Lauren groaned softly in Emma’s ear, trailing her fingers back and forth over the silk, right against her clit. “So fucking hot already, aren’t you?”
“Oh, please.”
“I love it when you beg.” Lauren pressed firmly against Emma’s center, pushing the cotton of her panties inside just a little. “I love it when you lose control.”
Emma moaned, her hips lifting off the couch and into Lauren’s touch. “Please.”
“I lead you by the hand through the unmarked door, down a scrawny little corridor, and into a room designed for your pleasure. In the center, hanging from a solidly built metal frame, is a spreader bar. You don’t know what that is yet, but you’re about to find out. The slave is waiting, head down and hands clasped in front of her. She’s naked and you can’t help but stare. You stare at the slave. You stare at the ropes and pulleys hanging from the ceiling. You stare at me, lust in your eyes and in the pounding of your heart. I wonder if you’re going to try to run, if you’ll want to tell me no, but I don’t think so, not this time. You want it too much to pretend.
“I drag an armless chair over to face the slave and lead you to the spreader. You whimper softly when I tie your wrists above your head. It’s not very high, your feet are still firmly on the ground. I’m not going to push you too far, not today. With your arms like that, your chest pushes out, and that’s all the invitation I need to take what I want. I snap the useless little straps of your silly dress, and you gasp. The material drifts to the ground as soft as a petal falling from a flower. You’re naked underneath. You almost said no when I asked you to go without underwear tonight. Having nothing to shield from the world makes you uncomfortable. Being exposed makes you hot, too. I help you step out of your shoes.
“There you are—completely naked for me, flushed and straining. Absolute perfection.”
Lauren slipped beneath Emma’s panties and stroked her clit. She was wet and soft, already so close. Emma made a long, low, desperate sound, her hips rising, her belly taut. Her head lolled against Lauren’s shoulder. Oh yes. She was completely immersed in the fantasy now. Time to keep her on edge and make it good for both of them.
“I run my hands all over you. Not rough, not this time, but firm and methodical. Sizing you up, examining every inch of your perfect body on display just for me. I pinch your nipples, press my hand against your sopping pussy. Oh, the slave is going to have so much fun with you, you’re so ready for a good fucking. You pump your hips into my hand, your eyes begging for more. That’s the thing about being bound and stripped. You have no secrets from the one who has you captive. I know how much you want to come, but I also know how much you enjoy the ride. I’m going to make you wait. I step away and wipe my fingers on my pants. Your arousal leaves a mark. Your need, a stain against my thigh. How dirty. I’ve barely even started, and you’re already halfway there.”
Lauren breathed out slowly through her teeth. Don’t fucking come in your pants like a horny teenager. She didn’t usually have so much trouble controlling her response when she was in a scene. It was all about the submissive and their need. But Emma flipped switches inside her that she hadn’t even known were there to be flipped. Her responsiveness an irresistible infinity loop that fueled Lauren’s passion.
“I step out of my shoes and undo the buttons on my shirt, letting it hang open to expose my breasts. You lick your lips, your eyes following my every move. I remove my pants and I’m naked except for the shirt. You pull against your restraints. It’s so very unfair of me, isn’t it? I almost never strip for you, not like this, not when we’re in a scene and I have all the control. You want to touch me, but you can’t. You just hang where I put you as your need for me soaks your thighs. I turn my back and walk away from you.”
Emma whimpered as if Lauren really had abandoned her. Lauren pressed her fingers to Emma’s opening, and made a quiet shushing sound in her ear. Trust me. I’ve got you.
“I sit in the chair, facing you and the slave, who still hasn’t looked at either of us. Whoever trained her, trained her well. I spread my legs and drop my hand to brush over my folds. You pull at your restraints again. You say my name, half plea, half promise. It makes you crazy when I touch myself and force you to watch. You can’t touch anyone, not even yourself. That’s what the slave is here for. But you’ll have to beg me for it. You’ll have to watch me as I stroke myself. Watch me watch you come with someone else inside you. You don’t want it to make you hot, but it does. You can’t help it. You want it, even when wanting it makes you feel dirty.
“I instruct you to spread your legs and order the slave to kneel between them. She glances at me quickly, her gaze dropping between my thighs for a nanosecond, like she just can’t stop herself. She bites her lip, and I give her a nod. It’s okay to look.
“She starts out slowly. Barely caressing your folds with her tongue. So soft and gentle, you think you might be imagining it—but it feels so damn good. I lean back in my chair and spread my legs a little wider. I’m going to enjoy this. ‘Please,’ you beg me, your thighs trembling a little as you force yourself not to thrust into her mouth. You want it to be my mouth, not hers. You want to be between my legs, not have her between yours. You want me, but you want her, too, and it feels so fucking good when she licks you that you can’t help but moan. It’s so wanton to be getting off with someone else, when I’m right there watching you. Aside from your wrists tied above your head, this scene could hardly be called kink. I’ve gone so easy on you.
“If you don’t account for the mindfuck.”
Lauren dipped her fingertips inside Emma. In and out nice and easy, until Emma groaned.
“When she grips your thighs to steady you and dips her tongue inside, you cry out. I mimic her move, swirling my fingers around my opening as she circles her tongue around yours. I know just how it feels, Emma, just how much it makes you crave to be fucked. I thrust my fingers inside myself once, hard and fast, and you gasp, jerking against the slave’s mouth. Your excitement makes her moan. Our slave likes to suck pussy. She knows how to do it well, hot and messy with your need painting her chin. I slide a finger on either side of my clit as I watch her make you tremble. As she rips cries and moans from your throat. As your eyes glaze and your breath comes in ragged gasps. You have no choice but to accept her touch. I wanted her for you, and all you can do is acquiesce. My pleasure is your pleasure, and your need is my need as we climb together, closer and closer to the inevitable.
“I’ve got you trapped. Not with the ropes binding your wrists and not with the woman giving you pleasure. You’re trapped because you can’t look away. This time you don’t want to close your eyes, not even when she sucks your clit and you’re so close to coming your knees give way and she has to hold you up with an arm around your thighs. You’d never look away from my desire, from my fingers playing over my clit, from the way I circle and thrust, hot and wet for you. Your eyes bore into mine, and you barely blink. You strain to catch every moan and sigh. I’m so turned on watching you teeter on the brink of surrender. Your begging is a ceaseless refrain now as you squirm and thrust into the slave’s mouth. You need to come so badly, but you need my permission more. I almost give it to you, you’ve made me so fucking hot. Pleasure spins inside me, a tornado of passion that’s going to rip us both to shreds. But I’m spoiled and your mouth is so much better than my hand. Too bad for you that you’re so good at sucking pussy. Guess you’ll have to wait a little longer.
“I tell the slave to get up
. My voice is sharp. What sounds like anger masking the impossible desire biting at my sanity. I give her a signal, and she selects a harness and cock from a chest in the corner of the room. You watch her, your breath coming in whimpering gasps until I walk over to you, put my hands over your wrists, and press my body along yours. You’re so fucking hot you arch against me, try to wrap your legs around my waist, your pussy against my stomach. I laugh softly in your ear. Nice try. I step back and, with your hands tied, you lose balance and stumble back, too. Your face is a mask of frustrated desire. So much need churning inside you and absolutely nothing you can do about any of it.
“I tell you, ‘You’ll allow me to untie your hands without trying to climb me like a ladder, or we go home now. Topping from the bottom is unacceptable, I don’t care how turned on you are.’”
Emma jolted from her sexual trance.
Topping from the bottom is unacceptable.
Something didn’t feel quite right. Not wrong exactly, not bad exactly, but not quite okay. She squirmed in Lauren’s lap, her ears buzzing while Lauren’s fingers circled her clit, so close to sending her over. Uneasiness spiraled around the pleasure until arousal and confusion, lust and panic, coalesced inside her and lodged itself, hot and sticky, in her throat. “Lauren, stop.”
Lauren didn’t so much as pause. “You know what kind of steak you like, Emma. I doubt you’ve forgotten already.”
Emma’s skin began to tingle and tighten. God, she was going to come.
She didn’t want to come like this.
You know what to say if you don’t want it.
“Filet mignon.”
Chapter Seventeen
Lauren instantly stilled and pulled her hand out from Emma’s panties. Emma didn’t know whether to cry out in frustration or gratefulness. The last thing she wanted was to come accidentally when things needed to be discussed. Needed to be changed.
“Should I leave, or do you want to talk about it?” Lauren’s tone was deceptively casual, not a hint of frustration at having her scene shattered.