Elle's Seduction

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Elle's Seduction Page 5

by Abby-Rae Rose


  Before she could protest, his mouth swooped in to take hers, tongue plunging forcefully in delicious hints of power. Shocked by the rawness and the overwhelming needs of her body, she lost all thought to give into her need.

  Teeth nibbled at her lips and sucked them into his mouth as one of his hands grasped her and pulled her closer.

  She couldn’t get enough. She wanted to crawl up and slide right over him.

  A loud bark of command from the other room broke him from the kiss. Their breathing was loud in the small space as Elle tried to overcome her body’s insistent cries.

  Max’s voice was thick and gravelly, seductive. “What’s Fred to you?”

  Elle shook her head as she tried to think straight. “Huh?”

  Another shout from behind Maxwell had him setting her down. “Better let you get back to your job. Wouldn’t want Fred to be lost without you.”

  Elle blinked, the passion ebbing.

  The cruel twist of his mouth killed the last of her interest. “What—”

  “Oh, don’t play coy with me. We can pick this discussion up Monday morning when we meet with you and Fred again.”

  Elle stepped back, burned by the harshness of his voice.

  Maxwell turned, leaving her standing shocked, before she could reply. The pleasure and passion that had raced through her blood curiously churning in her stomach in a mass of tension. For the first time in a long time she was alive, every nerve tingling. Monday couldn’t come fast enough. She just wasn’t sure if she’d throttle him or kiss him when she saw him next.

  She definitely thought a nice right hook to that scrumptious jaw might not be out of place.

  Chapter Six

  For Maxwell, The Den was heaven. Dark corners and nearly naked bodies combined like an aphrodisiac to his Dom sensibilities. Here, he was king. He could bring a woman to her knees and raise her up to the highest peaks.

  Like a modern warrior with whips and chains instead of knives and swords, he conquered sub missive’s fears and helped them find an inner strength and passion that they didn’t know had existed. Before, a new conquest had always given him a special thrill. A new face — some young, some not so young—but all of them shaking with the need to experience the forbidden and ready to please a master.

  At the bar, he settled his leather clad butt in a stool and tried to pull his attention to the moment. He itched to find relief for the twitchiness he’d experienced since laying eyes on Elle Norton. Last night, he’d only just managed not to attack the poor girl. While she may have enjoyed the kiss, he didn’t think she was ready for where that kiss would have taken them.

  No, that little innocent Bo Peep wasn’t ready for this Big Bad Wolf.

  Besides she was in too tight with Fred. Even if she wasn’t involved with the man, Fred certainly had his eye on her. Anyone with half a brain would have realized that when they watched the two of them together. He didn’t need office politics ruining his weekend, or the cork-screw curls and plump lips of one Elle Norton invading his every waking moment.

  Bright lights strobe the dance floor as Maxwell yelled for Kevin to load him up.

  Darren slid into the barstool beside him just as Kevin put a foaming beer in front of him. “Watcher, Maxwell?”

  Maxwell nodded his head and let the silence speak for itself. Darren knew what the elephant in the room was and looked determined to interfere.

  “You just need something to take your mind off things, mate.” Darren whistled down the bar and a spry little red head hollered back.

  Within a few moments, a beautiful and well stacked woman with a small waist accentuating her beautiful curves in all the right ways approached him with a huge smile. Her fairy hair glowed from the small light at the bar.

  She showed promise. He could feel that itchy need settling and moving from his stomach to his groin just watching her. This was what he needed.

  Maxwell assessed the girl and shook his head. Darren was incorrigible. “Where’s she come from?”

  Darren, his eyes twinkling, whistled a second time. This time another red head came out of the crowd. Maxwell groaned. Leave it to Darren to recreate one of his finest fantasies. “Thought you shouldn’t sit here feeling lonely when I knew of two girls who were just itching to meet us. Identical twins you know.”

  Maxwell studied them. They stood giggling, their nimble bodies nearly bore in matching black jersey dresses hitting mid-thigh. Strobe lights highlighted their sexy curves through the thin material, sending a spark of interest right through him. Bra-less and very fit.

  He had no doubt that Darren had vetted them and they would submit beautifully. While untrained, their bodies were primed and ready, their eyes steady and sure.

  Fuck. He wanted this. He was made for this. How many times in the past had he craved the excitement and power and the delectable calm of having someone under his hand, responsive to his every wish? These two, a matching pair, would be any dominants prized possession.

  The quieter of the two was intense, those blue eyes studying him, eating him up. The other only had eyes for Darren.

  Seconds ticked by as both girls became restless and the beat of the music called to them.

  Darren didn’t wait for him. “Come on, sweetheart, let’s get to know one another.” With a knowing smile, Darren left him with the other one dragging the first out to the dance floor.

  The quieter one stepped up and smiled. “Would you like to dance?”

  Maxwell smiled. “Is that what you really want, Red?”

  “The name’s Stephanie.” She closed the distance. This close he could smell the sweet scent of fuchsia. Her pulse beat wildly at her neck, her breath a pant through her open lips. “And what I really want is you.”

  Power hummed under his skin as she stood there. All he had to do was take her. Once he lost himself in the thrill of a conquest, he’d forget about that prissy southern belle with the dimples and sexy-as-hell ass.

  This was exactly what he needed.

  “Tell me, Stephanie, do you like pain?”

  She shut her eyes and lowered her head, mumbling.

  He wouldn’t have that. “Speak up.”

  Stephanie looked around, her eyes wide and startled. He found her shyness exciting—this would be one that would put a bit of a fight to protect herself. When he was done, she’d not only be absolutely confident, but that shyness could be used as an aphrodisiac for her capturing the eye of a new master, someone more permanent when he left for L.A.

  “Stephanie, everyone knows why you’re talking to me. Shyness won’t get you anywhere here.”

  The flush on her cheeks made him smile. He could see the struggle as she fought to come to grips with herself, her pupils wide as saucers. She liked the excitement with just that hint of fear. Finally, she spoke in a soft voice just loud enough to be heard. “I like pain, a lot.” She trembled as she stood there.

  All around them couples hid in corners and gyrated on the dance floor, arousal and hot sweaty flesh on display. “Show me.”

  Her head whipped up; her eyes meeting his. She kept her mouth shut tight though. She at least knew not to fight him. Keeping her head looking straight and defiant, she reached up and cupped her breasts through the thin material of her dress. Nipples poked through the fabric, the outline of bars clear and unfettered by a bra.

  His breathing sped up as he watched her eyes close and a moan escape as she twisted those nipples and kneaded her breasts. Around them, people stopped talking to watch her.

  He went behind her and whispered in her ear. “Open your eyes, Stephanie.”

  Her body stiffened against him and her hands stilled. “They’re all watching you, wanting to see what you do next. Some of them want you for themselves.”

  A whimper came from her as he reached around and tweaked a nipple. Even as she fought the attention, she squirmed in pleasure. “Tell me, are you wet?”

  She shook her head, but Maxwell knew her type. She just needed a firm hand to overcome her fea
r and grab hold of the power inside of her. “Find someone in the crowd, someone catching your eye.”

  She struggled against him as his hand slid down to the apex of her thighs. He felt the small crowd had gathered around them. This club was about sex and fetish. No one judged. “Have you found him?”

  A glance at where she was looking shocked him. There in a pink PVC skirt was Sholanda, a beautiful black Domme that frequented the club. This one was full of surprises. They would be a good match. A wicked thought came over him. “Or her? Do you want her, Stephanie? She likes pain. You would have to be a very good slave to have her. Tell me, are you bold enough to do whatever it takes to tempt her? You could have both of us, you know, if you were a very good girl.”

  A shudder rippled down her back as she groaned. His hands pulled her against him in an embrace. Already the idea of breaking her was losing its appeal. Sholanda was an easy out, but he wouldn’t leave the poor girl out in the cold.

  A wicked smile curled Maxwell’s lips as his hands moved down her hips. She shook with excitement, her heart pounding where her back met his chest. “Let me in, Stephanie. Show me just how much you want me.”

  Her thighs clenched as he tried to push against the material. Another touch and she released herself to his fingers. The fabric stretched and allowed him to slide between her folds to ride over her hard clit.

  At his first touch, she bucked against him, wet heat soaking her dress. The exposure here on the floor of The Den already had her on the edge. “Do you know who that is? Her name’s Sholanda. She likes to give pain but she’s a tried and true exhibitionist. She would want to show you off like this—only naked and completely exposed.”

  His fingers tangled with her juices as he ruthlessly thrust the cotton across her clit, making her pant with need. “Pinch those nipples for her. That’s right. Knead them.”

  With nibble fingers, he grasped her clit and pinched it, breaking a cry from her as she ruthlessly twisted her nipples. Right on the edge, she bucked against him, trying to free her clit. Loose herself.

  “Tell me. What do you want? All these people are watching, waiting to see you come apart.”

  She whimpered against him fighting against herself.

  He didn’t want to push her too far, but that inner knowledge of what to do had him in its grip even if his libido had lost its interest. “All you have to do is say stop and we end it. Or do you want more?”

  She shook her head.

  He meet Sholanda’s gaze. At Sholanda’s nod he pushed her. “Tell me—I stop now if you don’t.”

  Stephanie sobbed as she fought it. Finally, she whimpered, “More. Please, Sir. More.”

  With a ruthless twist, he released her clit and slid his fingers through her folds fast and furious, pounding his hand against her clit and pubis. Her screams were drowned in the loud music as she fell apart. Her release was brutal and honest, intense.

  Exhausted, she nearly fell to the ground. Knowing that at least tonight he was finished, Maxwell called Sholanda over. “I believe this one is meant to be yours.”

  Sholanda looked Stephanie over and nodded. A woman of few words, she took instant control, whistling for one of her other slaves, a broad shouldered beast of a man, to come over and lift Stephanie.

  “Take her to my chamber. I think this one needs to learn some manners.”

  A quick flash of warm dark eyes and a smile were his thanks and she was gone.

  Damn, he was finished. If he couldn’t take on Stephanie with her red hair and twin sister just begging for it, then how could he hope to get excited about anyone else?

  No, there was only one woman he wanted right now and he wasn’t going to find her at The Den.

  ***

  The insistent ringing of the phone pounded at Darren’s head. “Awww...jeez!”

  One look at the alarm clock told him whoever it was needed to go back to sleep. Nine o’clock was no time for the wicked, and he didn’t want to talk to anyone else.

  Untangling his limbs from the other two sets of legs in the bed and moving through the weight of bodies surrounding him took several seconds. The phone kept ringing. He couldn’t get out and no one was moving. “Could someone get the fucking phone?”

  A male grumble next to him, something about getting it. The cell phone landed on his pillow just as it stopped ringing.

  Who the hell was calling that early?

  Several minutes went by and sleep engulfed him again as bodies snuggled up tight to him and settled back in. Just as he was about to go under, the phone squawked at him again. “Damn!” He fumbled with the phone and flipped it open. “What the hell do you want?”

  “Darren.”

  He’d know that voice anywhere. “Maxwell?”

  He crawled through the bodies, grumbles following him, but the bedding were quickly pulled back up and bodies rearranged. Darren watched as his empty spot was taken over by red hair, erased. It was a testament to his life. No one would miss him.

  Scrubbing his head, he moved to the bathroom where he could get some privacy. “What do you need?”

  “Get dressed. We’ve got to strategize.”

  “Elle?”

  Loud voices sounded over the line as if a large group of people had gathered. Maxwell’s voice came back a second later, “I can’t talk much, but you remember what we discussed?”

  “Yeah, but I don’t like it—”

  A sound on the other end interrupted the conversation. “I’ll meet you at the Den this afternoon.”

  The line went dead and Darren was left staring at his scruffy face in the mirror. God, he looked like shit. Unshaven, hung-over, and blurry eyed, he wasn’t much to look at right now. Give him a mission and he could seduce any man or woman in the western hemisphere though. Come to think of it, any man or woman in the eastern hemisphere too. Those Asians could be kinky bastards. The only ones he wouldn’t go near were the tepid housewives.

  A quick flick of his wrist sent the water flowing into the faucet in a loud rush. Memories threatened to invade his calm. He couldn’t go there. The pain, confusion, and guilt were in the past. He’d shut the door on that a long time ago and it wouldn’t do him any good to dredge it up now.

  His friend needed him. Maxwell didn’t ask for much, but Darren knew more than anyone how much that man needed a good woman in his life. Damn if he wouldn’t have to get dressed and presentable to do it.

  Now, what to do with the posse in his bed? Maybe he had a bit of time for some fun before he had to leave.

  An evil smile lit his face as he picked up his toothbrush. Yeah, those two didn’t know what they were in for. He liked to experiment, push people to the edge. Little did they know just how far they were going to go this morning.

  Darren turned off the water before facing the bedroom and wiping his mouth.

  A couple of aspirin would take care of the headache and he would be ready for business. Parts of him were already jumping to attention at what he had in mind. Sometimes he amazed himself at his own wickedness; but when you’d been taught to break taboos since the day you were born, it was second nature. Undoubtedly, he was going to hell.

  Since he’d had no say in his damnation, he was going to enjoy the ride.

  Chapter Seven

  When Maxwell Stranton made a decision, nothing held him back. And he’d decided nothing was keeping him from going after Elle.

  The only thing standing in his way was Fred.

  Friday’s disaster and Zackary’s tongue-lashing was nothing compared to what Maxwell would have done with the man, but the advertisements were out and the launch set. An emergency call of the Board had occurred Sunday morning and they’d decided to move ahead with the launch of Vermilcitude.

  Maxwell was going to work out the kinks in the product and make sure it went to market as promised, while Darren continued to work through the financials. Fred, unfortunately, was staying despite Maxwell’s own objection.

  He’d also finagled a space next to Elle since they wou
ld have to work together. All he needed now was the right opportunity and the right pressure. That’s where Darren came in. Together they could seduce a nun. Luckily, it shouldn’t be that difficult.

  At the office, he met Fred for the first time by himself. “Good morning, Mr. Stranton.”

  “Fred.” It was only nine a.m. and Fred was sweating like a drunken sailor. Maxwell wondered if he was normally this nervous. Or maybe it was just Maxwell he was nervous around. Fred certainly didn’t act nervous around Elle. Heck, he seemed downright cozy with her.

  Fred continued into the stony silence. “I’ve taken the liberty of setting you up with my team. Elle will probably be the best person to work with. I’ll take her off her normal duties and she’ll help you with whatever you need.”

  He couldn’t believe Zackary had let this idiot get them into this mess. Maxwell was going to spend the next two weeks armpit deep in worms and ants. How fun! Even the allure of Elle couldn’t keep him from cringing.

  Fred showed him into a drab office with dirty tan walls and high impact carpet. Cubicle farms spread out as far as the eye could see. For Maxwell, this was his version of hell. All that was missing was a fax machine and binary code deconstruction to lull him into the abyss.

  Three aisles in, Fred stopped and waived to an empty cube. “This is yours. There’s a docking station for your laptop...” Fred’s droning was washed out by the sweet southern twang of the voice on the other side of the cube.

  Elle.

  His luck was just about to change. He’d hit the jackpot. Maxwell would be just three and a half feet from her every day, all day. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

  Fred stood looking at him expectantly. Crap. What had he said?

  “Sorry.”

  It took several tries for Fred to clear his throat to jumpstart. His nervousness clear in the shakiness of his normal contralto. “I just wanted to say, Mr. Stranton, that I’m deeply sorry about Friday. We’ve worked hard on the new product. It’s something I hold very near and dear to my heart. It sounds a bit ludicrous, ants and worms. We’ve done our research and I stand behind the decision.”

 

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