Ruby

by Jeffe Kennedy

  He paused and hooked a finger between her wrists, pulling them down and out, so the lapels gaped even more alarmingly. Taking her earlobe between his teeth, he nipped her, sending a spike of deepening arousal into her. “I decide, not you.”

  Turning her to face the mirror fully, he unbuttoned her jacket while she held her breath, looking down the hall to see if anyone was coming, if the girl kneeling by the door watched them.

  “Eyes forward,” he instructed.

  Helplessness overtaking her in a rush, she obeyed. She couldn’t stop it if someone did see them, and the realization freed something in her. He parted the fabric, revealing her white breasts and turgid pink nipples. Cupping them in his brown hands, he weighed the full flesh and thumbed her nipples.

  “So beautiful—perhaps we should show them off to everyone here, yes?”

  Panicked, yet desperately interested in the idea, she saw her eyes pleading with his in the reflection. Though for which outcome she didn’t know. In France, the women often went topless at the pools and beaches, and she wondered if she’d have the courage to follow suit. At this moment, she didn’t need courage. He would decide.

  The knowledge relaxed and emboldened her.

  He rolled the nipples thoughtfully, tugging on them, and she moaned, growing wetter by the moment. “The more I push you, the hotter you get. You tempt me, little morsel, to gobble you up immediately. But I know the full flavor is in the simmer.”

  “Bobby Prejean!” A man’s voice called down the hall.

  Dani froze and Prejean’s eyes glittered. He squeezed her breasts and, with a wicked wink, turned her to face a strange man.

  She caught a glimpse of an expensive tuxedo before she focused on his shoes. Now she understood the submissive downward gaze of the girl by the door. She couldn’t meet this man’s eyes while she stood there, hands bound and breasts naked and mottled pink from Prejean’s touch, and the men shook hands, exchanging pleasantries.

  “And who is your guest?” The man’s voice sounded kind, cultured, politely formal, as if this were a normal cocktail party.

  “This, George, is Ruby Tuesday. She’s a tourist.”

  They way he said it and George’s soft “ah” of understanding communicated more than that Dani visited New Orleans.

  “Well, then, I won’t keep you. Show her all the sights. Franco has that lovely blonde kitten strung up in the interior courtyard. Quite the sight to see. Welcome to my home, Ruby Tuesday. You just tell Uncle George here if Bobby doesn’t treat you right.”

  She looked up at the wink in his voice and the handsome older man toasted her with a crystal highball glass and a genial grin. Hesitantly she smiled and he nodded approvingly.

  “Yes. Have fun, lovely girl. Gorgeous tits.” He moved on down the hallway, calling out to the girl by the door with affection.

  Prejean buttoned up her jacket again, but left it agape by one more button and then brushed her bottom lip with his thumb. “You’re a natural, New York. You thrive on the thrill, don’t you? Let’s find out what else lights you up.”

  He turned her and moved her into the next room. People greeted him with polite kisses and smiles, ignoring Dani unless he introduced her, at which they greeted her with formal warmth. One group, cocktails in hand, parted as they approached, and Dani caught her breath on a sharp inhale of shock. In their midst, a woman was tied over the ladder-back of a wooden chair. Her black dress had been tossed up to reveal fuchsia tulle beneath, framing her naked bottom. With her legs spread and ankles roped to the outside of the chair legs, all her private parts were exposed to the party.

  Dani had never seen another woman’s vagina like this—swollen and slick with fluids, a few shades darker than her pink skirts.

  The woman pleaded and cried from somewhere under that pile of silk while a man in an Armani suit spanked her with a wooden paddle. He exchanged jokes with the people watching, occasionally pausing to run his hand over her reddening skin, while she wiggled and promised to be good.

  Riveted, Dani couldn’t tear her eyes away.

  “You want it to be you, don’t you?” Prejean whispered in her ear, slipping his hand under her hair and stroking the back of her neck. “Punished for all to see.”

  Flustered, she looked down, terrified he’d follow through, unbearably aroused to contemplate that he might. She could always use the safe word, she reminded herself. The thrill-seeking corner of her soul almost wished she didn’t have one. No safety net.

  One of the men in the group held the leash of a man crouched at his feet like a worshipful puppy in black leather. The man holding the leash held down his hand and his pet kissed it, fervent, and squirmed with pleasure when the man ruffled his hair. The man on the floor caught her watching and sent her a saucy smile, totally at odds with the moment before.

  Steering her by the back of the neck, Prejean guided her to another group where a woman kneeled on the floor, her party dress yanked down to expose her bosom, her head severely stretched back, making her throat a vertical line. A man practically straddled her, a fist in her hair to hold her in that position. He slapped her, hard, and Dani gasped.

  “Shh...” Prejean slipped an arm around her waist and held her back against him. “Remember what I told you.”

  It was hard to believe that the woman could want this. The man slapped her again and she sobbed out a protest, then unzipped his trousers and, taking his very long cock in her hands, fed it into her mouth, swallowing him deeply as mascara-streaked tears rolled down her face.

  “Everyone here has a safe word,” Prejean reminded her, leading her away. “George is very strict about it. And deep-throating like Delilah was doing is nearly impossible to force. She loves to be made to do it, you understand?”

  Dani nodded, still uncertain—and now deeply glad to have that safe word after all.

  On a couch, an elegant older woman conversed with another couple, while an angelic young man sat on her lap. His hands were cuffed behind his back and he rested his head on her shoulder while she fondled his cock and balls, never pausing in her conversation. His face, creased in concentration, showed his pleasure and frustration.

  “If he comes before she says he can, he’ll be punished,” Prejean told her. “It’s a common game that never gets old. Let’s go see the show in the courtyard.”

  To her surprise, they went upstairs, through an opulent bedroom and out a set of French doors to a wrought-iron balcony with two chairs. Prejean, however, guided her to the rail.

  Below, torchlight flooded the interior courtyard, making it nearly bright as day. Party guests sat in small groups at little tables. On other balconies around the edges, shrouded in shadows, other people watched the scene.

  Quite a sight, that George guy had said.

  A woman with an Amazonian build stood spread-eagled between two upright posts like in King Kong. Except she wore no clothes at all. Her glorious body shone with sweat, her short hair dark with it. At the moment, she sagged against the ropes binding her, head hanging down and her large breasts rising and falling with rapid breaths.

  A man dressed in a black cloak and a grinning demon’s mask circled her, carrying a long whip. Snaking red lines crisscrossed her skin, from her muscular calves, across her flat abdomen and up to her flexing biceps.

  The man moved behind her and her head came up sharply, a deer scenting the lion. She clenched her fists, tensed, waiting.

  Dani held her breath too. When the blow cracked on the woman’s
back, she cried out with her, her voice a small echo of the woman’s full-throated scream.

  “Watch what happens.” Prejean pressed behind her, reaching around to undo her buttons, parting the jacket so he could cup her breasts. The warm sensuality of his touch wove through her jangled thoughts and emotions.

  The woman below writhed in her bonds, her toned muscles flexing, her face a rictus of pain. Or delight. They looked much the same. The man struck her again, a softer crack of the whip, and she moaned, her body pleading with him. For more or less, Dani wasn’t sure.

  Prejean pinched her nipples and she moaned along with the woman. He brushed a kiss on her cheek and slid his hands up to ease the jacket off her naked shoulders. Transfixed by the woman’s plight below, Dani barely noticed when he unlocked her wrists. But she started a little when he fastened them to rings on the wrought-iron railing, her arms spread wide and her bare breasts exposed to the cool night air.

  The people on the other balconies showed as mere shadows, all the light focused down on the players in the courtyard. Prejean toyed with her breasts, squeezing them while he trailed nips and kisses down her neck.

  “They can’t see much,” he said. “Besides, you have the mask. You could be anyone. Now watch the show like a good girl.”

  After a flurry of whip strikes that seemed to leave the woman in a near frenzy, the man circled back in front of her. He said something to her that Dani couldn’t hear. The woman bobbed her lowered head, which clearly wasn’t good enough, because the man in the demon-mask lashed the whip against her muscular thigh.

  The woman screamed out, “Yes, please, master!”

  At the same moment, Prejean squeezed her breasts and bit down on the sensitive juncture of her shoulder and neck. Dani gasped, the sensation like an electrical shock to her groin.

  “That’s how you get your pet to call you sir.”

  She shuddered, unable to imagine going through what this beleaguered woman suffered. The man in the mask set the whip down and picked up a long strap. Prejean bunched his fingers in her skirt, sliding it up her legs. He’d moved her hair to drape forward over one shoulder and feasted on the back of her neck, his silky beard tickling her skin.

  The man below snaked the strap in the air and the woman answered an unheard question. He strapped her calves and thighs, a regular pattern. This didn’t seem to hurt as much as the whip, the woman moving in sensual waves of what looked like intense pleasure.

  Prejean had pulled Dani’s skirt all the way up, baring her ass and pushing his groin against it. With one hand he tormented her nipples, now tugging, now tickling. The other hand brushed the tops of her thighs, tangling in her very damp pubic hair. When she started to spread her legs, he anchored a boot on either side of her feet, keeping her thighs tightly pressed together. Dani wriggled against him, remembering the boy on the older woman’s lap who wasn’t allowed to come until given permission.

  Below, the man, demon mask leering, strapped the woman all over her body, raining blows in an escalating cascade that seemed to drive her beyond reason. He even spanked her breasts with it while she threw her head back in a kind of delirium.

  Dani whimpered as Prejean slipped his fingers between her clamped, wet thighs.

  “Oh, Ruby, how juicy you are,” he taunted, pinching her nipple so she cried out and teasing the lips of her pussy. “You’re near ready to boil over. You may speak, but only to say one thing. Say ‘please, let me come, sir.’”

  The man below had moved behind the woman again. He stood and waited, asking her something. Prejean pushed his hand into Dani’s pussy, still holding her so tight she could barely move. It wasn’t enough. It wouldn’t be unless she asked him.

  The man stepped back and the woman hung there, tense, expectant. Prejean stroked her clit gently. Not enough. Dani moaned and he chuckled, waiting. “I’m very stubborn. I can keep you locked to this rail all night, riding the edge of orgasm.” He rubbed the root of her clit, stoking the flames.

  The woman below was begging, her whole body a posture of supplication. Dani tugged against the rail. The way he held her so still seemed to make the flames of desperate need rocket out of control.

  “Please...” she whispered.

  “I’m waiting to hear those sweet words, chère.”

  The courtyard below fell silent, full of straining suspense. Prejean pushed his fingers deeper into her folds, pressing in. She tried bucking against his hand, but he wouldn’t let her. You play my way.

  In a lash of movement, the man below brought the strap up between the bound woman’s spread legs. She convulsed, screaming in pain and ecstasy.

  An incoherent cry choked out of Dani and she threw herself into the abyss. “Please, let me come, sir!”

  “Good girl,” Prejean said in satisfaction and he kicked her legs apart, driving his fingers into her and pressing his thumb against her clit.

  She came instantly, arching back against him, letting him pillage her offered neck with his mouth, shattering into waves of mindless pleasure. He didn’t stop with that first peak, but continued to work her, driving her upward again. She thrashed against his hand, ready for another shot of that high-voltage orgasm.

  Then he did stop.

  She moaned in protest and he gave her a little smack on the ass, moving away. Twisting to look over her shoulder, she smiled at him and wiggled her bottom. “Please sir, let me come again.”

  He pursed his lips, as if thoughtful, gaze raking her while he wiped his hands with a towel from a nearby stand—like the ones hotels had in their fitness centers. Prepared for everything. He shook his head. “No. Not yet. Maybe not for a long time.”

  “But—”

  “No protesting.” He looked very stern. “That just earned you another punishment.”

  He began working her skirt down again.

  “Can you at least clean me up with the towel?” The frustration made her irritable. The demon-masked man had untied the woman, lavishing kisses over her face while he cuddled her in his arms.

  “No. I want you to feel sticky and sodden. And remember I did it to you.” He unlocked her wrists from the rail but encircled them in a strong grip, pushing her back against the wall, arms stretched over her head. His lips brushed her cheek and he ground against her. Helplessly aroused, she responded, her hips moving with him, her nipples rubbing against his shirt. “Asking isn’t the same as getting. Especially when you forget to ask nicely. I decide.”

  His lips barely brushed hers and she strained toward him, hungry, starving.

  “Do you want me to kiss you?” he teased, pulling back.

  “Yes, please.” She remembered. “Sir.”

  “Ah, you don’t say it yet like you mean it. But we can work on that. Ask again.” He kissed the corner of her mouth. “Ask me like you mean it.”

  “Please, sir,” she pleaded, rocking with his movement. “Oh, kiss me or I’ll go crazy.”

  “Close enough.”

  His mouth took hers, a devastating possession. He kissed her senseless, using lips, tongue and teeth. She hung there, strung up by his pirate’s grip, half-naked and writhing with abandon under his touch.

  Utter free fall.

  He released her, withdrawing from her mouth with a series of small sweet kisses. When she opened her eyes, still in a daze, he smiled at her.

  “What now?” she asked.

  “Back to my place—” his smile became a wolfish grin, “—where we can finish this nig
ht properly.”

  Chapter Five

  He let her dress herself in her jacket, leaning back against the rail and watching her with speculation. The silk lining chafed her tender nipples, and her breasts felt unbearably full, her lips swollen from that pounding kiss. Already he’d plundered her, leaving her gasping and very aware of her slick neediness. And they hadn’t even had sex yet.

  It might not yet be midnight. Hours yet until dawn.

  How much more could she take?

  “Second thoughts, chère?” His voice soft, yet daring her to cry off.

  “What, and miss out on all these delights you keep promising? No way, Bobby Prejean—I want to see exactly what you can deliver.” She made her voice deliberately saucy, slurring it the way they all did—Bobbah P’jhn—regaining a bit of the balance he’d stripped away.

  “Ah.” His dark eyes glinted and mouth curved behind that wicked beard. “I’m going to love making you sorry for using my name. I hope you enjoyed that orgasm—it’s the last one you get for a long, long time.”

  Anticipation steamed through her blood as he led her back through the party, strong hand encircling her wrist. The visions of what he might do to her in the privacy of his home blinded her to the prurient displays of the lavish gathering. The naked girl by the door called a cab for them and one arrived in minutes.

  He handed her into the cab with gentlemanly grace, giving the driver his address, then slid an arm behind Dani’s neck and swept up her legs so they draped across his lap. Holding her like this, braced against the cracked plastic of the cab bench, he kissed her again, long and slow. His hand brushed the naked back of her knee, making her shiver, and edged up under her hem, moving higher on her thigh while his mouth moved dreamily over hers.

  Nervously, she looked at the driver, to see he was, indeed, watching them in the rearview mirror.

  “Put your hands around my neck and answer ‘yes, sir,’ or I’ll diddle you right here,” Prejean whispered against her mouth.