by Kelly Alexis
Whitney moaned. She was teetering on the edge, and he was teasing her, dragging it out and driving her crazy.
"Does that feel good?" He was so close to her, his words were hot on her ear, and yet none of his body was touching her except his fingers.
"Yes, Sir," she answered, letting her head roll back. All the bones in her body felt soft and weak, barely able to support her.
He let his fingers stroke her rib cage and dip into her belly button.
Take me, she cried out silently, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of hearing her beg.
He moved those treacherous fingers lower, over the lips of her labia, then separating them and flicking her swollen clit.
Stay there and finish it. She tried to transmit her will telepathically.
But Adam had plans of his own, and she had no choice but to let him play it out his way. He withdrew his hand and sat back on his heels.
"God, you're beautiful." His words were soft and sincere.
Whitney had never felt beautiful. She knew she was pretty enough, especially when she took time to put on makeup and fix her hair. Most days, she just clipped it up on top of her head, neat and professional. He would probably not be that impressed with the real Whitney. Beneath this wig, she was someone else.
Under his almost constant gaze, she had lost her self-consciousness and now savored the freedom. There was something incredibly exhilarating about being open to his view, to have him admire her body and to be so completely turned on by her. Of that, she had no doubt. His cock had been rock hard for almost the whole time they'd been together. It was an incredibly powerful feeling, and yet she was totally powerless.
The bed shifted as he rose up and moved closed to her. His legs pressed against the back of her thighs and he parted her ass cheeks so his cock nestled between them. He pulled back so the tip of his cock eased down her crack, then with the help of one of his hands gripping its girth, he guided it between her legs.
Whitney's legs were already spread, but she tried to adjust so he would slip inside. She had gone past wanting him—she needed him to fuck her and finish this torture. The friction of his rigid penis massaging her clit felt so good. What was he waiting for?
Finally, when she thought she'd go mad, he eased inside her. He didn't stop until he was buried up to his root, his hair tickling her waxed genitals. She was still amazed she was able to take his full length. He started slamming into her, lifting her off the bed. His nuts smacked against her thighs and his grunts echoed each thrust.
It was rough and raw and, for her, not all that enjoyable. Her own near-orgasm was lost as he continued. Her mind drifted as his relentless action continued for several minutes until finally his shout and the rush of hot cum in her vagina signaled it was over. He fell back, exhausted. She slumped onto her heels, her arms stretched upward, still in the cuffs.
She was disappointed. It had been all about him and his pleasure. He had gotten some sort of twisted delight out of turning her on, but he hadn't let her finish. This was supposed to be her fantasy, and, yes, she wanted to experience being a sub. But she liked it better when there was mutual satisfaction.
Whitney was tired and just wanted to have a few minutes alone. Her enthusiasm for the fantasy was waning. Her Prince Charming was turning out to be a rutting bore. For the first time, all weekend, she wondered how much longer she was willing to stay.
Chapter 7
Adam felt rejuvenated. He'd gone soft by letting her sleep on the bed, so he had to redeem himself as a strict Dom and give her a little punishment. He hadn't actually meant to fuck her. He wanted to torture her and leave her hanging. But the sight of her round, firm ass and the feel of her silky skin had made him toss aside his good intentions and just screw the hell out of her.
But that last one had taken a lot out of him. He never would have believed it possible, but he was sore and tired. He really wanted a long soak in the hot tub he'd seen out on the deck. His only hesitation was that she would probably expect more sex, and he just wanted to relax.
He looked up at her where she still hung in an awkward position, bound by the cuffs. If she felt half as dirty and sweaty as he did, she needed some tub time, too.
He stood and walked around to both sides of the bed and released her. She collapsed onto the bed and didn't move. For a second, he was afraid she had passed out, and he was relieved when he saw the strong pulse of her carotid artery in her neck.
"Get up, sub."
She didn't move for a full minute. He was beginning to think she was going to defy him, and frankly, he didn't have the strength to punish her. If he admitted that, he'd be hounded out of the Dom union, if there was such a thing.
Finally, she stirred and dragged herself to a sitting position. She swung her long legs over the side of the bed and slid off, coming to stand in front of him.
"Yes, King."
Her voice was flat, and her eyes were dull. She shook her hair back off her shoulders and straightened but kept her eyes downcast. For once, he was uncomfortable that she didn't try to meet his gaze. She seemed to have lost her spirit, and that was one of the things he'd enjoyed most about her.
"We're going to dinner in an hour. I'm going to spend some time in the hot tub. Why don't you take a bath and get cleaned up?" He decided not to have her join him. It would just be a distraction.
She didn't seem disappointed. In fact, he thought she perked up a little, which sort of pissed him off. Was she tired of being his sub? Was he boring her?
He watched her practically run to the bathroom and shut the door behind her. For some reason, it made him have second thoughts. Wouldn't he rather be in there with her than alone in the hot tub? Or have her share the hot tub with him?
But to change his mind now would seem weak and indecisive. And if there were two things he was, it was neither weak nor indecisive. He strode across the room and yanked the cord to pull the drapes back. On the other side of the French doors was a large cedar deck with a killer view of the Rocky Mountains and the heavy dark forest surrounding Breathless. He walked outside, expecting it to be cold, but a large overhead heater warmed the entire area and there were heated tiles beneath his feet. Thick, one-way glass panels kept the weather outside and blocked people from seeing what was going on up on the balconies.
Adam flipped the switch, and the water in the hot tub was sent into a frenzy of bubbles. He stepped in and sank down until the water came up to his neck. Of all the fantasies he'd had about this weekend, having too much sex hadn't been one of them. He liked being in total control, but not having any interaction from a woman he suspected was intelligent and interesting made it kind of boring. How many blow jobs could he get in sixty hours?
Holy shit! Where had that come from? He had never turned down a blow job in his life. He couldn't imagine getting tired of them.
Adam stretched out and let the powerful jets work their magic on his tired muscles. He just needed a little rest. Being god and master was a lot more strenuous than he would have guessed.
A half hour later, he got out and shut off the jets. He felt energized but hungry. After dinner, he would check out the chest and see what new scenarios he could come up with to enjoy his sub. He grabbed a big, fluffy towel off the shelf and roughly dried his hair and body. He'd asked room service for dinner clothes to be provided for her because, tonight, he wanted to take her out and show her off to all the other guests at Breathless.
After all, how many other men here had such a hot sub? He laughed.
None!
She came out of the bathroom about ten minutes later. She had combed her hair and applied eyeliner and mascara to her eyes for dramatic effect. Her full lips were a sexy cherry red, and he remembered how much it turned him on when those lips were working his cock like a peppermint stick.
It didn't help his libido that she was wearing nothing except a towel wrapped around her body and, of course, her collar. When she saw that he was dressed in a suit, she just shrugged, a gesture that cl
early said the towel was the best she could do.
He was tempted to let her go to dinner dressed exactly like that. But he didn't think it would pass the dress code that, while not official, was implied.
"Look in the closet. There should be something in there for you," he told her.
She seemed doubtful, but when she checked inside, he saw her return, holding a short midnight blue dress made out of some kind of shiny material. She glanced over at him then dropped her towel and stepped into the dress.
His cock pushed against the zipper of his slacks at the reality that she had no underwear on and would be sitting across the table from him all night with a bare pussy. He smiled. That would certainly make the meal more interesting, especially if he accidentally dropped a fork and had to lean over and check it out.
She looked stunning. The cobalt blue of the dress brought out the blue in her eyes. He'd noticed how they changed colors from an amazing shade of turquoise when she was happy to a turbulent sea blue when she was upset to a deep jade green when she was really turned on.
A pair of silver, strappy stilettos had also been provided, and he watched her put on a show of slipping her feet into them.
She was startled when he snapped the leash on the collar. "Did you think I was going to let my pet run free?" he asked.
"No, King," she answered, but he thought he saw a hint of mutiny in her eyes.
He held his arm out and gave her collar a little jerk. "Let's go see how well you've been trained."
She linked her arm in his and walked with him through the doorway and into the hall. She held her head high, and if she noticed the curious stares of the people in the elevator, she didn't give any indication. Adam suspected she'd gone into the same zone she'd been in when he made her push the cart into the hallway while she was naked.
Dimitri didn't so much as blink when they stopped at the maître 'd's desk.
"Good evening, Mr. King. Your table is ready. Follow me, please." Dimitri led the way through the crowded dining room to a table in the middle. The whole room had been turned into a Valentine's Day nightmare, with smiling cherubs and red hearts on every table, along with bouquets of red roses. All very tastefully done, but overkill for anyone who was allergic to the holiday. "Will this be satisfactory?" Dimitri asked.
"Yes, this is perfect." When he had made reservations, Adam had requested a central location. He wanted to show off his pretty pet.
Dimitri held her chair out for her then placed her napkin across her lap and handed her a menu.
"She doesn't need that," Adam stated. "I'll order for both of us."
Dimitri took the menu back and waited until Adam was seated to hand him a dinner menu as well as a thick, leather-bound wine menu. "Your waiter tonight will be Steven. I'll send him over for your drink orders."
Adam nodded his approval and opened the wine menu. He glanced through the selections then closed it.
A tall, young, blond Greek god approached and introduced himself. "Good evening. My name is Steven. What would you like to drink?"
"Red Bull on ice," Adam answered.
"And for you, miss?"
"A glass of white wine, please," she answered.
"Very good, miss." Steven headed toward the bar.
She was sitting in the chair next to him, and Adam reached under the table and slipped his hand under her skirt. Her thighs clamped together, and he frowned.
"Open your legs, sub."
For a split second, she met his gaze, and he was struck by the dark blue flash of anger he saw before she lowered her gaze again. But she obeyed, and his fingers found her pussy. In spite of her obvious discomfort, he was pleased to find that she was wet. This little bit of exhibitionism was apparently at least a little bit exciting for her. He slid his fingers inside and stroked her until she shifted on her chair, grinding against his hand. Satisfied that she was quick to respond to his stimulus, he pulled his fingers out and put them in his mouth.
"You taste so sweet. I think that's what I'll have for dessert."
"Yes, King," she muttered.
Steven returned with her glass of wine, a glass of water for each, and a Red Bull for Adam. "Are you ready to order? We have an excellent prime rib tonight and, also, the chef has prepared fresh Atlantic cranberry pecan crusted salmon."
"The prime rib sounds good for me, and she'll have the chicken parmesan."
She opened her mouth to protest, but he silenced her with a look.
"Yes, sir. I'll put this order in."
As soon as Steven left, she asked, her voice stiff, "May I drink my wine?"
He nodded and swirled the ice in his glass of Red Bull.
"Nothing stronger?" she asked, nodding toward his glass. "Or is it a Dom thing?"
"Alcohol isn't allowed," he explained. "But even if it was, I have a low tolerance. One drink and I kind of lose control. Two drinks and I'm out."
She lifted her glass and studied him thoughtfully as she sipped her wine.
He looked around the room, noting all the envious stares from most of the men. He didn't notice any other women wearing collars, so either she was the only sub there tonight, or the other Doms treated their subs better than he did her.
There was no more conversation between them. Did he miss the small talk about stuff that didn't interest him like there usually was on his dates? Not really. But it did help him to get to know the women better. He really didn't know anything about the pet sitting next to him. And oddly, he was curious about why she was here and where she came from. But it was a line he didn't want to cross.
He didn't want to think of her as a person. Their relationship wasn't based on them being equals. He was the master, and she was his sex slave.
The thought that he had missed his sensitivity class today crossed his mind, and he gave a mental shrug. He needed this experience more than he needed a lecture about how to be politically correct. The world was too full of PC bullshit. He would have preferred to live when men were men and women did all the work and kept their mouths shut and their legs open.
Adam didn't have a lot of respect for women, with one exception. His mother had left when he was only two-years-old. He didn't remember anything about her. His dad raised him with tough love, meaning Adam practically raised himself. A series of women went through his dad's life while Adam was young. But none stayed long or had much of an impact on his life.
Only his grandmother had given him the love and encouragement that had made him excel in school and inspired him to go to med school. Her death had broken his heart, but it created a focus that had become his passion. No other woman measured up to her humor or her creativity.
The young ladies he dated had done nothing to change his opinion of women, in general. They were flighty and shallow, impressed by his prestige and his bank account. He couldn't force himself to settle down with some pretty but boring young lady just so he'd have a date for official functions and a playmate in the bedroom.
He glanced over at his quiet sub. They hadn't had a real conversation, but he sensed intelligence behind those mysterious eyes. She made an attractive dinner date, and she could certainly satisfy him in the bedroom. So far, the experience had exceeded his wildest fantasies, and they still had another thirty or so hours left. He smiled as he thought about all they had done so far. Yes, she pleased him. Very much.
Steven brought their salads and placed them on the table.
She sat there, waiting for permission to eat. He knew she had to be hungry, because all she'd had all day was two pancakes and a slice of bacon.
"You may eat." Then Adam picked up his fork and started on his salad.
When their meals arrived, he dug into his prime rib with gusto. It was delicious, and he was hungry. When he was almost finished, he noticed she was picking through her food, eating just the spaghetti and avoiding the chicken. His gaze lifted to her eyes, and he saw that big, silent tears were rolling down her cheeks.
He felt an unusual tug of his heart, but he turned
away before she sensed any weakness.
Adam didn't know how to deal with a woman's tears. That wasn't part of this fantasy.
A half hour later, Adam stood and picked up his sub's leash. She followed behind him, her head held high, as regally as a queen. Everyone in the dining room watched them walk out. Dimitri wished them a goodnight, and Adam led her along by her leash to the elevator.
He wasn't sure what they were going to do when they got back to the room. Her energy level had dropped, and he guessed, she was as tired as he was. After shutting the door behind him, he turned on the fireplace and sat on the couch.
"Sub, pour me a Red Bull on ice." He had let her leash go when they entered the room, so she was free to move toward the mini-bar in the kitchen. "You can get yourself something, too." He leaned his head back on the couch as he waited.
She returned with a full glass and handed it to him then stood, unsure what he wanted her to do next. "Sit," he commanded and took a drink. He watched her perch on the edge of the chair across from him and sip her wine. "Tell me why you're here," he said, surprising himself almost as much as he surprised her.
"I…uh…just wanted to see what it was like," she stammered.
"What what was like?" he asked bluntly. "The Dom/sub thing? The sex? The adventure?"
She took another drink before answering. "As you've probably guessed, I don't have a lot of experience. I have a high-pressure job, and I don't have time to develop relationships. Not that I want one," she hurried to add. "I guess I wanted to have some fun without any responsibility."
That sort of echoed his own situation. Adam was intrigued, but he wasn't feeling so good. The room was spinning, and he was having a hard time focusing. "I think I'm more tired than I realized," he said and frowned that his words sounded slurred. He took another drink, which didn't help at all.