Young, Allyson - Reason [Club Pleasure 3] (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Allyson Young

  * * * *

  Jamison fought against the pull of this Ivone Mendes-Rodrigues. Her astonishing eyes mesmerized him, not to mention that she had just given him the best blow job he had ever experienced, and that was saying something. She hadn’t sucked harder than other women, or taken him any deeper. She hadn’t used her tongue to greater effect. It was her single-mindedness, her absolute sense of purpose that created the connection. She had loved blowing him, and it connected them. Somehow he knew this. But he had lost his mind to engage in such an overt sexual act in the public area of the club and he had to gain some control over the situation before it blew up in his face.

  Ivone had one green eye and one blue. It was disconcerting and yet a perfect look on her. This tall, curvy woman with the long, silky, dark hair looked at him with her mismatched eyes, and he was somehow lost. It was a totally unfamiliar feeling for him, and he then felt a twinge of anxiety. Jamison dug deep for every bit of control he possessed and shuttered his eyes and his heart. He would explore this Ivone Mendes-Rodrigues and see where he could take her, and she him, but he wouldn’t be vulnerable. He had learned his lessons well over the years, and he was sure she would have a flaw that he couldn’t overlook and accept. All it would take was a period of time for that flaw to make itself apparent to him and remind him of his own imperfections. Besides, it was crazy to think that, after one sexual encounter, he would even want to pursue anything other than an evening or two with her, just as he did with every other sub. There seemed to be a never-ending supply of women who were either exploring the lifestyle or fully committed to it, and Jamison always found a sub when he required one. Because that was all he allowed himself. He fell back into his self-preservation mode, forgetting how purposeless his life seemed lately, how empty.

  “Do you want to go to the dungeon, or a private room?” Jamison asked her.

  He heard himself give her a choice and was surprised that he had done so. She, too, was surprised that he had even asked, for he noted a bemused expression flit across her face. He hoped she wouldn’t choose the dungeon. He wasn’t ready to share any more experiences with this sub with other club members. They had already seen enough, and he hated to share his pleasure with them. He wondered at his possessiveness for this was so unlike him. The venue kept the sex casual and held commitment at bay.

  “Private room, Sir.”

  Jamison fought his displeasure. He might have given her a choice, but she should have given him the power back. Instead, her answer went against the grain. She was supposedly a trained sub if she was available here tonight. He didn’t want a newbie. He wanted a woman who was past the coddling, introductory stage, someone he could fine-tune, and only for the night. There was no patience in him and probably never had been. Then it crossed his mind that Ivone might have been as thrown off by her response to him as he had been to her, and actually wanted to be alone with him to the extent that she had forgotten her role. He briefly wondered at his soul searching. Well, he would give it to her this time. Once. If she forgot again, he would punish her. Not discard her, but punish her. He should really take her to the dungeon and have others bear witness to their new connection and establish that this was purely play, but he found himself wanting to be alone with her. He snapped his hand toward Veronica who placed a key card in his hand.

  “Room seventeen, Sir,” she said.

  Jamison’s eyes shot to hers at the little tone in her voice. She didn’t flinch, merely looked at him back at him, her face blank. He had apparently gotten carried away with Veronica when she was participating in scenes. At least she thought he had. He knew that he had given Veronica what she needed, and also knew she had confirmed it with other members. It was when he had moved on to another sub that her opinion changed. She had then left Pleasure and found employment here. Veronica finally dropped her eyes and moved away. Jamison made a mental note to find out how Ivone and Veronica were connected. He didn’t care to have Veronica poisoning the well. He reached down and took Ivone’s wrist, pulling her up as he stood. She came up like a feather. A strange feeling swept over him. He shook it off. There was no need to feel possessive. Ivone and he were just dabbling as was his wont.

  “Use the bathroom,” he ordered.

  * * * *

  Boy, he was a man of few words, Ivone thought. She liked that he got right to the chase. She was sick of the constant prattle at work, saying one thing and meaning another, or nothing at all. She was sick of the girls vying with one another and sick of the office politics. Design was cutthroat, even if it was architectural design and not the catwalk kind. The younger team members saw her as ancient, she knew, and she fostered the idea in order to do the job she loved rather than be included in the collegial bullshit. She followed the prescribed distance behind Jamison, totally comfortable in her nakedness, her eyes devouring his broad, muscled back and great ass. She had a sudden urge to pat it, maybe smack it and quashed a giggle. He would kill her for her temerity. Kill her with pain and then with pleasure. When he had the room open and stood aside for her to enter, her face was schooled in submission again, although he gave her a sharp look. Ivone hoped the night would be wonderful.

  She’d seen Jamison’s walls go up earlier. She wasn’t offended. Ivone knew about trust, or the lack thereof. She knew a fellow survivor when she met one. But this time, they might complement one another. Jamison Landry had compensated by becoming dominant. She compensated by giving over. This would mean that they both would have to come to trust the other, and maybe that would never happen, but he called so strongly to that something within her that she was going to give this the old college try. She instinctively knew that this man was playing at being a Dom. Oh, he was dominant, but not about to commit, and she had a fleeting thought about her own inability to do so. Perhaps he, too, had a similar past. Perhaps their future beckoned them.

  Jamison stripped when he entered the room. Ivone was a little disappointed that he didn’t have her undress him. She would have liked to unveil his body a bit at a time, fold his clothing neatly, and show her willingness to serve. He was magnificent and also clearly at home in his own skin. He was all delineated muscle interspersed with dark hair. Ivone again wished she could have pulled his clothing off slowly to better enjoy it, but would follow his direction. He arranged some toys on the bedside table and some lube, but it was the paddle in his hand that caught her attention.

  “Face down over the bench, sub, legs apart.”

  Ivone instantly complied, her pussy wet and her breasts growing heavy with desire. Jamison began to paddle her. He laid the heavy strokes across her buttocks and the top of her thighs with no preliminaries. After a time she felt some of the stress of the week begin to drain away as the endorphins poured forth, and she slipped into subspace. When he stopped she fought to stay, only to be brought back when he filled her with a dildo. It had been well lubed, but Jamison had thrust it inside of her with no quarter. He truly knew what she liked, was able to read her body language like no other in such a short period of time. The paddle came down again, much harder, and Ivone writhed against sensation.

  “Stay still,” came the order, and Ivone fought to obey as the paddle descended, and the dildo stretched her.

  Two greased fingers breached her anus and it burned, making Ivone whimper and flinch, to no avail. More lube was added, and the huge digits scissored and twisted. Her ass stinging, her anus burning, Ivone realized she had not been given a safe word. Stupid, stupid, stupid. The fingers slid out, and Ivone felt Jamison’s cock push against her tightness. His weight lowered over her, and he shoved deep, in one thrust. Lights flashed behind Ivone’s eyelids, and she couldn’t get a full breath. It felt like he was pressing up against her lungs, and for a moment she panicked, but then he began to work in earnest, awakening all the nerve endings inside of her. She was packed full, so full that she thought she might burst, and began to feel her climax build from the stretching alone. The burn was just a bonus against the scratchy sense of such pleasure. She op
ened her mouth to ask permission to come when Jamison spoke in her ear.

  “You are not allowed to come,” he said with dark finality.

  Ivone fought orgasm like she had never fought it before. His hand slid around to pet her clit, and she cried out in protest, but he touched a little harder, then pinched it just as he pulled out and shoved back in hard, the sensation of heat evident even through the latex he wore, as he groaned his release. Ivone shattered.

  “You were not allowed to come,” Jamison said with a growl from just above her.

  Ivone opened her eyes and was aware of him watching her. This had to be a test. No one could have held off coming considering what he had done. She knew that he would punish her for it, and despite her recent climax, wanted more. So he had recognized her need for correction and had given her a reason to receive it. He pulled out without further comment and went off to cleanse himself, then returned with a cloth to gently and carefully clean her up, at such cross purposes with what she believed he intended next. Again, such dichotomy thrilled her. He lifted her relaxed form and laid her on the bed where she thought she might doze for a moment. She was stretched and sore, although it felt delicious.

  “I’m sorry, Sir,” she apologized. She knew better than to offer excuses or suggest he had made it impossible for her to avoid orgasm. He had done it on purpose, for her, and now she had to figure out what he needed.

  “You have no self-control, sub,” he observed.

  Ivone kept her expression totally neutral and waited.

  “I will teach you some,” Jamison said quietly. “Can you keep your hands above your head and your legs apart or must I restrain you? And be sure, Ivone, because if you make the wrong choice, I will add to your punishment.”

  Ivone now knew what he wanted, needed. “Whatever pleases you, Sir.”

  Jamison didn’t smile, but she knew she had pleased him. He turned on the overhead light and then quickly tied her wrists and ankles with the velvet ropes attached to the bed and shoved a pillow under her hips. She nearly hissed at the friction on her sore ass, but caught the sound. She didn’t yet know if he wanted her to be vocal or not. He began at her throat, stroking and touching every inch of her skin, over her collar bones, down her arms and up under her armpits. He ran his tongue over some spots, making her shiver, and then nipped those areas, awakening her arousal. He paid special attention to her breasts, weighing each in his hands, pinching and rolling the nipples, pulling them to elongate them, until the nip of pain was evident. He then grabbed the clamps from beside the bed and took his time applying them, watching her carefully until he was likely satisfied she was right at the end of her endurance. Ivone had to pant through the experience and had the satisfaction of seeing his eyes darken again to that jewel-like color. By the time he had worked his way down to her thighs, Ivone was beginning to writhe. Jamison immediately stopped and popped the clamps off. Ivone shrieked and fought the miniclimax that moved up on her.

  “You will lie still until I have completed my exam,” he said, his voice rough, deep.

  Ivone wanted to tell him no when he clamped her sore nipples again. Somehow she bore through it and was rewarded with a tiny salve from his tongue on both of the aching tips. God, she loved the pain and already he knew it. He knew how much she could take. He returned his attention to her thighs and wandered his way down to the arch of her feet. Who knew the sides of her knees were so sensitive? And if he didn’t quit with her feet, Ivone was going to scream. When he moved to her other foot, she slipped away in her head a little and managed to cope as he found the other knee. Boy howdy. He stroked her thighs and rolled them further apart. It didn’t seem to be enough for him, so he released her ankles and knelt between her splayed thighs, lifting her calves and arranging her ankles over his shoulders, her knees bent back nearly to her chest.

  “Keep them there, sub. If you move them, you won’t like what happens.”

  From her position at the head of the bed, her head propped on the pillows, Ivone watched as Jamison shifted her to rest her buttocks on his knees, her legs now nearly perpendicular to her body. He stared down at her apex and then parted her folds. He had something in his big hand, and Ivone felt it push into her. The walls of her vagina began to stretch apart, and she understood he was using a speculum. Medical play was something that she hadn’t done before, and she felt a bit queasy. When Jamison turned on a little flashlight however, and Ivone felt how his cock suddenly jumped to total attention beneath her buttocks, she understood how primal, how essential, this intimate perusal of her was to him. There was nothing withheld from his gaze, with the exception of her anus, and she somehow figured he would be looking there at some point. Almost absentmindedly, Jamison tapped her clit, now poking from its protective hood. Not again. Ivone fought really, really hard against coming and Jamison obligingly removed his finger, giving her abdomen a little pat. The speculum spread wider and Jamison lifted her higher to his gaze. She could feel his breath up inside her and then his tongue. Oh Christ. His tongue withdrew, followed by the speculum, and he licked his lips, clearly approving of her taste. He then carefully examined every fold and crevice, saving her clit until last. By then Ivone was so turned on that any hint of embarrassment she might have felt at the intimate search had long since disappeared, especially when she could see how much he approved of her.

  Jamison flipped her over and began the same inspection of the back of her body. Ivone managed not to rub her clit on the sheet. She moaned when he massaged her back muscles and shivered into his touch as he stroked her legs. When he spread her ass cheeks, Ivone didn’t move a muscle, not even when he pushed a plug inside her, seating it with a final twist and a hard spank on the end. She hoped he would soon remove the clamps though, because with her position on the bed they were past painful. As though he read her mind, Jamison flipped her over again and, without further ado, popped them off. Ivone gasped as the blood flow returned and writhed against his tongue and lips. He suckled her until she begged him to stop, then nipped one then the other. Ivone again fought coming. He was so good at this. He read her like a book. He propped her buttocks on a pillow and bent her legs to set her feet wide apart on the bed.

  “Hold this position.” No threat of consequences this time.

  He made himself comfortable between her thighs, making her stretch even wider to accommodate his bulk and then began to fuck her with a curved dildo, the butt plug moving in concert with his moves. The dildo stimulated her G-spot, and Ivone recognized the far-off trembles of a vaginal orgasm. Jamison recognized her cues and stopped. Ivone groaned in frustration. He left the dildo inside and turned to her exposed clit. Taking a little vibe, he began to torment it. Ivone’s thighs clenched and her toes curled into the mattress. Please. Please.

  “No.”

  Ivone hadn’t realized she’d begged out loud. She fought against coming but was nearly there when Jamison pulled the vibe away, starting in on her again with the dildo. Ivone thrashed her head on the pillow. She panted and whimpered, she moaned and begged, and still Jamison denied her. She was sweat soaked, her hair clinging to her head, the sheets damp and wrinkled around her. Her clit felt enormous and so very tender, especially when the vibe returned to tease and torment. Slap! Jamison’s hand came down on her spread folds with authority, right on her clit.

  “Come.”

  * * * *

  Ivone went over with a vengeance, screaming her pleasure, squeezing him tightly between her legs. He was amazed at her strength. Orgasmic flush rose up from her breasts and over her throat. Her face went tense then slack with her passion and those amazing eyes glazed over. Jamison’s heart palpitated. She was absolutely, fucking sensational. Shit, she was absolutely getting under his skin. He tore his gaze from her, quickly pulling on a condom to then thrust into her open pussy, reveling in the vestiges of her massive orgasm. He worked her hard and pushed her into another one with the angle of his cock against her G-spot and the grind of his pelvis, and let himself go when she did. Jamison
wanted to roar with satiation and ownership but contented himself with a groan.

  They slept for a while, Jamison having pulled out of her to drop heavily onto his belly. He wanted to pull her to him and indulge in some postcoital cuddling, but some part of him cautioned against letting her in. She rested a slender foot on his calf and it touched him in spite of himself. The inspection, the fast-paced contact was new even for him. It had felt like he had a deadline, needing to know this woman inside and out, from head to toe. Jamison was beginning to wonder if Ivone just might meet some previously unknown criteria when sleep overtook him.

  * * * *

  Ivone had not slept, although she pretended to. She needed a few minutes to think without being overwhelmed by Jamison’s attentions. There was a cold, hard part in the man. She felt it in his obvious determination, obvious at least to her, not to connect on a softer, emotional level. Veronica’s warning echoed in her head. Well, she had just come to the realization that she needed the emotional piece to balance what she knew were dark needs, as dark as her own, if this was to be a D/s relationship and not one or two evenings of play. It might be too much work, too hard, to break down his walls in order to be completely fulfilled, let alone demolish her own. She was already thinking, with the optimism of a woman in love, that she could reach him, that he was salvageable, and it scared the shit out of her. It was too soon for love, even the dark, twisted kind. It was insane to be thinking of anything more with this man but she couldn’t deny that he had linked with her somehow. And she had never, ever, done something like this, never felt so claimed and so satisfied. She would have to watch her heart, depending upon the next stage of this connection. Ivone wasn’t a fool. She hoped.

  Chapter Two

  “I want you to come back to my home for the weekend,” Jamison stated, having come from asleep to a state of watchfulness in the blink of an eye. It had startled her. He had pulled her into the shower with him and efficiently washed all the evidence of their passion away before tending to himself. He had used some topical anesthetic on her nipples and anus as well. Someone had taught him the importance of caring for subs, but it was more important to Ivone that he didn’t try to avoid the intimacy.