by Susan Stoker
“A date?” I repeated, not expecting such a simple demand.
“Yeah, a real fucking date at some fancy restaurant, where you let me pay for everything.”
A laugh welled up inside me. “Now I’m concerned for your business, because you don’t seem to get how negotiating works. You’re supposed to ask for stuff I don’t want.”
One long stride and he was back at the edge of the table, his face only inches from mine. His voice was commanding. “You’re gonna wear that red dress you wore to your sister’s thing when she got engaged.”
My mouth went dry. I’d met Julius, Kyle and his girlfriend Ruby for drinks after my sister’s engagement party two weeks ago. The red dress was short and had a plunging neckline. I’d bought it to make myself feel better. Tariq’s adultery wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t on me. I was almost thirty, but I still looked damn good, and the dress was a reminder I could be sexy.
I could be… wanted.
“After dinner,” Julius continued, his tone confident, “you’re gonna come back to my place and stay the night. I’m not talking about fucking. I want you in my bed. I want to wake up next to you. You asked what I want, and that’s it.”
I nearly melted down the side of the table, not just from his words, but the way he set his powerful, dark hands gently on my knees and slid them up my thighs. His touch was electricity, sparking across my skin.
“Deal?” he asked.
I choked out the terms in an eager voice. “You show me what it’s like on this table, and I’ll give you a date and wear the red dress.” I set my hands on top of his and curled my fingers around them, inching his hold up onto my waist. “I’ll spend the night in your bed.”
I was sure we’d do a heck of a lot more than just sleep, but it was sexy to leave the promise unspoken. He tipped his head down and sealed his lips over mine. This kiss was slow, but just as intense as the last one, and I tightened my grip on his.
He didn’t confirm the deal with words. Instead, when the kiss was over, he went to the door and pushed it closed. He lingered, facing the wall with his broad back to me, and he put his hand on a hip.
“Deiondre,” he said. “I’m in room two and taking out my earpiece. Nobody knocks on the door unless it’s really fucking important, got it?”
Whatever answer he received, it seemed to satisfy him. Julius turned to face me, and as he peeled off his suit coat, he strode toward the white chair. The coat was folded neatly and set on the cushion. He unhooked the earpiece with its spiraled cord, tugged the small battery pack attached to his waist, and set the communication system down on top of the coat.
A tremble of excitement began at my ankles and worked its way up to my knees as he locked his gaze on me and began to unbutton the cuffs of his black dress shirt. He rolled his sleeves back to the elbow, showing off his strong forearms. His skin was darker than Tariq’s, and much more beautiful. I couldn’t wait to see more of Julius.
“You gonna get naked?” he teased, but again, there was a hidden edge, like he was worried I was going to change my mind. “Want my help?” he asked lightly.
I wasn’t normally shy, but I was nervous having him out of reach. “Do you want to take my clothes off?”
“It’s not about me right now. It’s whatever you want.”
I slid down off the table to stand beside it. “Okay. I want you to do it.”
The room was charged with energy and my body was a live wire. His eyes hooded at my request, and he complied, dipping his fingers under the hem of my top and slowly working it up. Our gazes were fixed on each other, broken only for a second as he tugged the shirt over my head, and dropped it silently to the floor.
His Adam’s apple bobbed with a thick swallow.
I stood absolutely still as his fingers landed at the button of my pants and undid it. He inched my zipper down, but his eyes never strayed from mine. It was like he found my eyes more interesting than the skin he was revealing.
I gasped when he put his hands under my arms and lifted, seating me on the table. Then, he slipped off my heels and tugged my pants off, one leg at a time. My chest rose and fell with my hurried breath, and then quit moving altogether as his hands crept along my body, his fingertips searching for the hooks at the back of my bra.
His mouth was damp and warm against the side of my neck, planting kisses there as tension released from the band and my bra came undone. Oh, shit. This was the moment of no return. I was about to be topless.
He must have sensed my hesitation. “Okay?”
I grabbed him by the back of the neck and moved his head toward mine until our mouths could meet. I was more than okay; I’d just needed a moment to acknowledge the threshold we were going to cross. As we kissed, I pulled my bra free from my body and added it to the pile of clothes on the floor.
His hands roamed over my bare back and goosebumps burst on my skin. My nipples tightened into points under the cool air and the anticipation of his hands touching me.
But he didn’t.
At least, not on my breasts. He turned me on the tabletop and eased me down onto my back, his dark brown eyes intently watching me. The leather was smooth and cold, and every muscle in me tensed. I’d negotiated for this, but anxiety crept in. It grew larger as his gaze finally broke from mine and he pulled open the top drawer.
My hands were balled into fists at my sides, and I bit down on my bottom lip. Should I take off my panties while he was busy getting the straps ready? I couldn’t make myself move. Watching him was too distracting.
Plastic crinkled as he pulled out the black blindfold. He held onto it, hesitating, and my body took over. I tugged the blindfold from his hold, slipped the straps behind my head, and pulled the shade down over my eyes.
In the darkness, I calmed almost instantly. The blindfold covered my nerves, so all I was left with was so much excitement, I worried I’d burst. His fingers gently wrapped around one of my wrists and urged it up over my head.
“If you wanna stop, just tell me,” he said.
I didn’t want him to stop… in fact, I couldn’t wait to get started. Anticipation thundered through my bloodstream, heating me to a million degrees.
The scratchy sound of Velcro coming together filled my ears as he closed the first restraint, and then he took my other wrist and did the same. I startled as his unexpected fingers curled around the sides of my thong and drew the scrap of fabric down my legs.
Blindfolded, bound, and now naked, I was more physically vulnerable than I’d ever been, but Julius had already seen me at my most emotionally. He’d been there for me, and so showing him this version was… easy. It only strengthened my connection to him.
And speaking of connection—was he going to touch me? After he’d removed my panties, his hands were gone. It didn’t sound like he was moving. He was standing beside the table, just breathing.
“What are you doing?” I asked softly.
“Looking at you.” God, his voice was like velvet. “Jesus, Courtney. You’re so fucking beautiful.”
It punched a sigh from my lungs. The ache for him pulsed incessantly in every cell of my body. “Are you going to touch me?”
“You better fucking believe it.” His fingertips trailed over my cheekbone, just below the edge of the blindfold. It was his warning so I didn’t startle when his lips settled on mine. This kiss was seductive, even though seduction was unnecessary. Even if I wasn’t tied down, I’d do whatever he wanted.
He used one fingertip to draw a line over my lips, tracing down my chin and along my neck. Its slow path forced more goosebumps to pebble on my flesh. It was the only place we were connected, but I felt his power everywhere.
“You like it?” he asked.
His touch, or being under his control? The answer was a strong yes to either. I pressed my lips into a thin line and nodded quickly. I had to squeeze my knees together against the sensation as he steadily dragged his finger over my collarbone and down between my breasts.
It continued farth
er. Past my belly button. Swiping over my skin until he was at the delta of my legs, about to—
Gone. His touch disappeared and the table beneath me jostled faintly. He’d just opened a drawer. Which one was it? The pain one seemed unlikely, but Julius always kept me off-balance.
Strings landed gently on my chest and my brain flooded with confusion. What the… Oh. The flogger.
My breath caught. How was he going to use it on me? The sensation of the unknown was exciting. Was this how the women felt while on the table, at least a little bit? The curiosity was foreplay all on its own.
The flogger tails moved, sweeping downward over the curves of my bare skin. The leather caressed over my sensitive nipples, and my mouth dropped open. The sensation was nice. It made the muscles low in my belly contract with satisfaction as the tails continued their journey. It moved all the way down over my thighs and to my knees before floating away.
It sort of tickled, but was more like a wave of pleasure.
Again, the strands dropped onto my chest and began to dance over my flesh, working lower. I shuddered from their wicked stroke. It felt so freaking good. Like a skilled masseuse’s hands priming my skin.
“Open your legs,” Julius commanded, and I gasped. It was both strange and amazing to hear him like this. His tone was warm, yet in control, and I was more than ready to obey. I peeled my knees apart, no longer feeling shy, and when the flogger coursed over the most aroused part of me, I jerked against the restraints, stunned by the feeling.
My gasp made him chuckle. “You get it now?”
“Yes,” I whispered. Or perhaps I pleaded. It was insane how something so simple was also so incredibly erotic.
He did it at least three more times, and each pass felt better than the last. I curled my hands around the ribbon holding my wrists to the table and arched my back, letting the leather play over every inch that was clamoring for attention.
“Fuck,” he groaned appreciatively. “You’ve got no idea what this is doing to me.”
It was almost impossible to think he was enjoying this. Sure, I was naked, but he was fully clothed and we weren’t even touching. How could he be getting any pleasure from it? “This is,” I said, sounding doubtful, “doing something for you?”
Sex with my ex-husband was all about the finish line for him. Was Julius merely humoring me? Pretending he was into it for my benefit?
“If you mean ‘doing something for me’ is getting my dick hard, then, yeah. Because it’s definitely doing that.”
I blinked under the blindfold. Really? I felt warm all over. After Tariq, I hadn’t realized how desperate I was to feel desired again, and Julius made me feel that way a million times over. My bottom lip trembled and I bit down on it, holding back the urge to cry with relief. The surge of emotions was intense, and probably amplified given my current state.
“Julius,” I said on a broken breath.
“I’m here.”
And he was. His hot mouth locked onto mine, and I arched once more off the tabletop, straining against the straps, only this time because I wanted to throw my arms around him and kiss him until our lips were sore. His tongue tangled with mine, and the way it moved in my mouth was like he was fucking me.
I moaned, crying my need against his crushing lips, and wished I could go back in time. Back to the stupid house party where I’d run into Tariq the first weekend of my junior year and let him talk his way into my pants later that night.
I’d been so fucking stupid, lured by the glamour of dating a guy who was a football star and sure to go pro. It served me right. The bright lights on him that were so attractive at first became glaringly blinding, and I’d been trapped. I was weak. It’d been easier to stay with him and his manipulative ways, than deal with the truth. No matter what he said, Tariq was never really going to change who he was. He was never going to become a decent guy.
Julius, on the other hand, had always been one. Had what I’d wanted been right in front of me this whole time?
Something cold, metal, and kind of heavy, slipped around my wrist, just beneath the strap of ribbon. He couldn’t see it beneath the blindfold, but my eyebrows pulled together. “What’d you just put on me?”
His hand skimmed over my arm, caressing. “My watch. It’s gonna tell me your heart rate.”
My pulse leapt. “Why do you—”
“I’m about to make you come a bunch of times. This way I know when to back off.”
Holy.
Shit.
Chapter Five
Julius
I had to be fucking dreaming.
Courtney was in my club. She’d kissed me. Oh yeah, and she was naked. Naked. My brain kept screaming it on a loop, like my eyeballs weren’t working. She was so fucking gorgeous, it hurt to look at her. Her skin was like snow, her nipples were a pretty pink and her fucking body made me want to sin a thousand kind of ways.
Her fair skin looked more fucking beautiful against the black table than any girl’s I’d seen. I’d stroked myself as I’d watched her writhe under the flogger. That shit was intense. I didn’t play a whole lot. I sat my ass in my office chair night after night and watched other guys get their rocks off.
But, I took some notes.
I wasn’t a Dominant like most of the guys who came to my club. Wasn’t into pain. Or humiliation. Didn’t really understand the orgasm denial shit, either. If a girl could come, why not get her there? Who was going to complain about getting too many orgasms?
I’d worn the magnetic mesh band on my watch today instead of the links, and thank fuck I had. Her wrist was tiny, but the band fit. My smartwatch said Courtney’s heart rate was hovering around ninety. One-thirty or one-forty should be the peak, but the only way to know for sure was to make it happen.
I opened the second drawer and stared at my options.
The white and purple toy in the left slot was a favorite in the club. Sometimes after the client left and the girl was let out of her straps, she’d reach into the drawer and finish herself off when the guy didn’t have what it took. Tara said the toy got the job done for her in less than a minute.
I pulled it from the drawer and stared at Courtney again. Fuck me. Between playing Division I ball in college and running this place, I’d seen a lot of naked women in my life. But this girl bound to the table was something else. My dick throbbed in my pants, so I grabbed it and squeezed, pushing back the feeling. I’d meant what I said, that this experience wasn’t about me. It did happen to be one of my favorite things to do, though.
Making Court come her brains out? I didn’t have a bigger fantasy.
She jolted when I put the round suction head of the toy against her clit and pressed the button to turn the thing on. Its buzz was quiet against her skin. The thing had to be positioned just right, so I pulled the head back and moved it up just a little higher—
“Oh my God,” she groaned. Yeah, that spot was better. Her heart rate spiked upward.
One-oh-five.
One-ten. The color changed to yellow on the screen of my watch.
Her little whimpers of pleasure were the sexiest goddamn thing ever. I put my free hand on the table and gripped the edge of the cushion. I didn’t want to touch her this first time around, but keeping my hands to myself was one tall motherfucking order. Seven years I’d wanted this.
My grin went ear-to-ear. “Quit squirming or you’re gonna knock it free and lose all that suction you like.”
One-twenty.
Her chest was heaving and her head tipped back. Tendons in her legs flexed as she pointed her toes. Jesus, watching her was insane. My heart was going to pound right out of my ribcage.
“Oh my fucking God,” she cried.
One-twenty-five. One-thirty. It climbed like a rocket, and her moans did the same, signaling an explosion. The screen blinked red, flashing the numbers as she took off.
Courtney had been a cheerleader at Ohio State, so I knew my girl could get loud, but her gasp was bigger than I’d thought it be.
Damn near a scream. Louder than it’d been in my fantasies, and better sounding too. Her throaty moan that came after was a lick of heat through my spine, burning all the way to my cock.
She bucked up off the leather, straining against the straps. I tensed my grip on the table until my hand ached. Not yet. I wanted to touch her, but when I did, it needed to be the only feeling she had.
She shook and trembled. I could see the goddamn waves rolling down her legs and it pumped more blood straight to my dick. I was gonna bust my zipper if I got any harder.
I pulled the toy away from her skin, turned it off, and dropped it beside her on the table while she continued to come down from her O. The watch screen was yellow now as her heart rate slowed, matching her breathing. She closed her lush lips to swallow a ragged breath.
There was a drawer on the end of the table she hadn’t explored. It had rubbers, lube, and other shit and I grabbed the bottle of massage oil I wanted. Jesus help me at the sight of Courtney all glistening. I could barely keep my shit together now, but was going to try it anyway.
She was still breathing hard and didn’t seem to hear me uncap the bottle. I poured a bunch of the slippery liquid into my hand and rubbed my palms together to warm it up. It smelled like strawberries a little, but nothing obnoxious like a cheap stripper. It better not, either. The bottles were tiny, but fucking expensive, like they had liquid gold in them.
I leaned over the table and set my slick hands on her thighs, my thumbs on the insides of her knees. My dark hands looked so good on her creamy skin. I didn’t use a lot of pressure as I glided my palms upward, working the oil over her. I ran my hands up and down, back and forth until it was distributed on her smooth thighs. Her tense muscles softened under my hands, and her head lolled to one side like she liked what I was doing.
I poured more oil into my cupped palm and smoothed it over her flat stomach. God, her body was fucking hot. As I slid the oil over her, she moved like a cat, rubbing against my touch, as if she was as fucking eager for it as I was to do it. I teased with my fingers, hinting I’d slide them down between her legs, but didn’t go all the way. She needed another minute to finish recovering before I took her to the edge again.