by Regine Abel
But he stopped.
And that gave me hope.
On the fourth day, we returned to our previous routine. He called me into his office to suck him off. Quickly, my initial fears that he would savagely fuck my face alleviated. Anton showed no aggression. He was almost tender in the way he caressed my hair and my face while I deep throated him. I was ok with this Anton. But would it last?
On the sixth day, he didn’t let me finish. Half-way through, he pulled me off him, laid me down on his desk and went down on me. I had forgotten what Anton could do with his tongue. I hadn’t had an orgasm since the day he took me against the wall with that cat tail in my ass. That wicked mouth of his got me off like a rocket. He didn’t stop. I climaxed once more before he took me.
Until that moment, I hadn’t realized how hollow I felt. How I had missed having him inside me. Not only the fullness but especially the gentle, careful way in which he took me until I adjusted to his girth. Only then did he surrender to passion. Despite still being torn by what he had done to me, I couldn’t help melting. He kissed me while riding me, which felt good. Anton’s mouth was heavenly, whichever set of lips he used it on. We didn’t kiss often. Kissing created intimacy and he wanted none of that between us. At least he didn’t seem to want to punish me anymore. I was content with this Anton.
Initially, I rejoiced finding out the Braxian delegation’s scheduled visit was delayed by another week. Yet, as the days trickled by and the date approached, I wished they hadn’t postponed. At least the nightmare would be over by now. However, wishful thinking wouldn’t change a thing. I pushed the unpleasantness of tomorrow away from my mind.
I didn’t know if Anton realized tonight marked our first month together. Well, okay, not together, but of the signing of our contract. Could that be the reason we were going to Risqué tonight? Wondering for hours what outfit he expected me to wear almost drove me insane. I wanted to flaunt one of the countless gorgeous outfits Anton bought for me. A little over two weeks passed since ‘the incident’ and I was all but under house arrest. Aside from vocal training, there were no opportunities to show off those outfits. And now I feared Anton would bring me another pet costume.
I remembered those human pets eating food off the floor as their masters tossed bits of meat to them. I shuddered, my hand unconsciously reaching for the collar. Is that what Anton had in mind for me tonight?
We’d be leaving soon and I was running out of time to prepare. Bracing myself, I made my way to his office, hoping my inquiry wouldn’t trigger his anger. I hesitated in front of his door, itching to turn around and hightail it back to the bedroom. I shouldn’t be scared. Unlike the previous time, I wasn’t bringing up a sensitive topic. But Anton was too mercurial; a sweetheart one minute and a vicious monster the next. Inhaling, I knocked on his office door.
“Come in,” his muffled voice called out.
I opened the door and took a few hesitant steps inside. The absence of tension in Anton’s shoulders and the relaxed setting of his jaw made me breathe easier. He gave me an inquisitive look. A quick glance around the room didn’t reveal the presence of a box like the one that had contained the cat outfit.
I cleared my throat. “I was wondering if you have specific clothes for me to wear tonight.” I tucked my hair behind my ear.
He frowned. “Why would I…” The expression on his face changed as understanding dawned on him. “Right. No, Grace. I do not foresee the need for special outfits in the near future. You have a full wardrobe you can use.”
I couldn’t hold back the broad grin splitting my face. Relief and excitement made me giddy. Role-play could be a lot of fun, but not the way we did it last time. I nodded with enthusiasm, my mind already reviewing my wardrobe.
“Ok. I’ll go pick something then. Sorry for bothering you.”
As I turned to leave, he said, “That silver dress looked good on you.”
That was the dress I planned on wearing before he made me change into the cat costume.
“Sure, Anton. I’d be happy to wear that,” I said, facing him.
He rose from his chair and sauntered towards me. The light smile on his face reassured me that he held no ill intentions. Stopping before me, Anton let his eyes roam over every inch of my body. He slowly raised his hand and combed his fingers through my hair. I shivered at his touch.
“Leave your hair down,” he said with a soft voice, his eyes staring at the strands as they flowed through his fingers. “You have the most amazing hair. I want it unobstructed.”
“Okay,” I whispered, my breath catching in my throat.
Of course, he would want it down. He liked easy access to everything. His hand slid off my hair to cup my cheek. Eyes locked on my mouth, Anton slowly ran his thumb over my lips. My heart thumped in my chest. Kisses and cuddles were a big thing to me. I couldn’t get enough of them but Anton hardly ever gave any. My lips parted, willing him to proceed.
When he leaned his head down to kiss me, I melted against him. My hands gripped his hair as if to make sure he wouldn’t pull away from me. The kiss was slow, deep and tender. He pulled me against him, his arms encircling me in a tight embrace. My nipples hardened and a slow fire ignited in the pit of my stomach. I could stay like this forever. Teasing, tasting, commanding, his tongue explored my mouth like a conqueror. When he broke the kiss, he chuckled at my disappointed whimper.
Our eyes met and something undefinable, yet powerful, passed between us. His thumb caressed my lips again before he let go. It took all my willpower not to pull him into my arms again. I felt cold and flimsy without his body against mine.
I’m so fucking pathetic.
Only minutes ago, I dreaded knocking on his door for fear he would go wild on my ass. Now, a caress and a kiss had me weak in the knees and begging for more. Knowing it and doing something about it though, were two completely different things.
“Go on,” he whispered. “There are a few things requiring my attention before I can get ready. I’ll join you shortly.”
I nodded and left him to his work.
* * *
With a spring in my steps, I strutted by Anton’s side, clinging to his arm as we entered Risqué. I wore a collar but no leash. Tonight, Anton hadn’t brought a pet, but a companion, and he was flaunting me, left, right and center. His hand never left me, whether resting on my waist, my hip or the small of my back. I loved its possessiveness, the way it said to the whole world ‘she’s with me, she’s mine.’ Although I knew it was huge bragging rights for Braxians to show off that they owned an obedient human woman, I didn’t care. Whatever Anton’s motives, he liked showing me off and I loved to be.
We stopped at many tables on the way to our own, the patrons standing to pay Anton respect. And every time, he introduced me as his companion, Grace. It made me warm all over. The crowning moment was when Caleb showed up with Sheila trailing behind while one of the patrons’ wife oohed and aahed at my dress. I loved being the center of attention with all eyes on me; the woman’s admiration, Anton’s pride and Sheila’s burning jealousy. All my happy places tingled with pleasure.
I pressed myself closer to Anton’s side, returning Sheila’s venomous glare. His hold tightened on my waist, as if in approval. A quick look at his face and the small smirk at the edge of his lips told me he knew exactly what silent war waged between Sheila and me. I suddenly wondered how he felt about my possessiveness towards him. I belonged to him, not the other way around. Yet, for the duration of our contract, I couldn’t help but consider him mine. After the usual greetings, Anton informed Caleb they would speak later, then with a nod to Sheila, he escorted me to our table.
We sat at the same elevated booth as before. It exposed the entire restaurant to us while providing a perfect view of the stage. The best part was watching Sheila settle at a standard table at ground level below us. Her relationship with Caleb confused me. It wasn’t uncommon for venue owners to sleep with their performers. Yet, Caleb wasn’t known for doing so. If the rumors wer
e true, it made sense. The performers at Risqué were too high profile to deface in edge-play. But since Sheila started performing here, I often saw Caleb and her together as a couple, though also with other people. Maybe they enjoyed an open relationship.
Once again, Anton ordered for the both of us then patiently described his selection to me afterwards. I recognized some of the dishes. Soon, I’d feel confident enough to order on my own. That’s one thing I liked about Anton. He didn’t mind explaining things to me. It made me itch to learn more. I had missed that.
We enjoyed the wonderful meal while making small talk. I had never seen him so relaxed. The evening was shaping up to be the most amazing time we’d had.
“So why did you stop at seven space stations? Did you always intend to have seven Hives?” I asked, before taking a sip of wine to wash down the spiciness of the stewed vegetables in a curry sauce.
Anton pushed back his plate and leaned against the cushioned leather seat.
“Seven was always the plan. I just built them sooner than expected,” he said, unable to hide the pride in his voice.
“Why not build more then? I mean, clearly, they’re all a huge success,” I said waving at the room.
“Because that would hurt my business more down the road.” At my confused look, he continued, “Each Hive is strategically located to serve a specific sector. Because there are so few, the business owners bid high to win any space that becomes available. That, in turn, ensures they provide quality services to attract the type of clientele that can keep their businesses flourishing.”
“So… you’re creating rarity to keep the prices up?” I asked, still a little confused.
“In a way, but that’s just part of the reason. With rarity, I get quality, but above all, I avoid flooding the market so the Hives don’t start cannibalizing each other.”
“How?”
Anton lifted his hand and absentmindedly fiddled with the small hair at the nape of my neck. “Ever been to Callan Fall?”
I nodded, leaning into his touch. “That’s where I had my second feature show.”
It was a miracle that poor excuse for a pleasure barge hadn’t caved in on itself. The space station was riddled with rust, leaks and every type of pest imaginable. Mercenaries, mine workers, and small-time traders constituted the bulk of the clientele. It was a third of the size of Venus Hive.
“Have you noticed how many brothels and bars they have?”
I snorted. “More than half the station is brothels and bars.”
“Remember how often they shut down before a new owner opened another one?”
Yeah, I remembered. There was a closure every other week, followed by a big reopening. Most establishments lasted a couple of months, six at best. Only a handful managed to last longer, but they offered highly exotic – meaning sick and deranged – services.
“All the time,” I said, nodding.
“That’s what happens when you have too many similar businesses competing for the same pool of customers. Everyone makes a small share, but not enough to keep them afloat. That’s why I regulate the number of businesses of a similar type on each Hive.”
“Why do you care though? As long as you have people paying rent, whether they succeed or fail shouldn’t matter to you, right?”
He smiled, his hand sliding from my nape to my shoulder, where his thumb followed the line of my clavicle back and forth. The caress distracted me, but I wanted to remain focused.
“It matters because their success increases mine. The more money they make, the better services they can provide, the more refined the clientele they attract. I only rent half the space on each Hive. All other establishments belong to me, including some entertainment venues, every single hotel, food market and power, among others.”
“You’re crazy smart,” I said, impressed.
“And you’re smarter than you give yourself credit for.”
My jaw dropped at the unexpected compliment. Was he mocking me?
“Right. I can’t even order my own meal,” I said, trying to hide my discomfort with self-derision.
Smiling, Anton gently caressed my cheek. “Lack of education or worldly knowledge doesn’t mean stupid. Aren’t you learning now?”
My eyes pricked. I nodded, not trusting my voice.
He gestured at the room. “These people have nothing on you. You’re young, beautiful and smart enough to learn all this shit. You just need to start believing in yourself.”
The onslaught of emotions sweeping through me made me dizzy. Aside from Marcus, and more recently Romero, no one ever seemed to think much of me or my potential. Coming from Anton, it touched me deeply.
Feeling awkward, I tried to lighten the mood with a joke.
“You’re only trying to make me work even more.”
Anton burst out laughing. I loved its booming quality and the way it softened his features.
“Yes. It does involve a bit of hard work.”
He got to his feet and extended a hand towards me. Surprised, I rose and placed my hand in his.
“Let’s dance,” he said, leading me to the dance floor.
An orchestra played slow ballads, mainly as ambient music, but the patrons were welcome to dance. The low hum of conversations considerably lessened as we stopped in the middle of the otherwise empty dance floor. Anton pulled me into his arms and I wrapped myself around him. Every single eye was on us. I felt happy tingles again. Anton’s nostrils flared and he shook his head, incredulous.
“You’re such an exhibitionist! This? This makes you wet?” he said with a chuckle.
My face burned with embarrassment. Ok, I was a freak. So what? Anton began to move and I tensed at first.
“Afraid I’m going to squish your toes?” he asked with a wink.
I bit my lip and lowered my eyes.
“Don’t worry, Grace. I know how to lead.”
And did he ever. For such a brawny man, his movements were fluid and effortless. While we mostly swayed from side to side, cheek to cheek, occasionally, he would make us – or me – spin.
Did I mention this was the best evening ever?
I inhaled his fresh scent, raw, male, and mixed with his spicy cologne. Wrapped in his arms, against his chiseled body and surrounded by his scent, I felt at home. Unable to resist, I softly kissed his neck. His arms around my back tightened though he pulled back his head to look at me. We stared at each other for a moment in silence. His gaze fell to my lips and I slightly lifted my head, on instinct. A strange glimmer flicked through Anton’s eyes. His face took on an incredibly soft, almost tender expression. He leaned down and kissed me.
That was twice, tonight alone. I surrendered to him, his hand gently fisting my hair as he deepened the kiss. My girly bits throbbed in response and I pressed myself even closer to him. I wanted him to carry me to the closest table, toss the food and dishes to the floor and take me right there, on top of the table – watching patrons be damned. Well, okay, not damned. The thought of them watching while Anton fucked me into next week had me dripping.
He broke the kiss and I almost whimpered. His hand still gripping my hair, he pulled my face into the crook of his neck and pressed his lips to my ear.
“You’re mine, Grace,” he whispered. “You belong to me, and I’m never letting you go. Do you understand?”
Lost in the moment, I nodded against his neck, my arms tightening possessively around him. A warm, fuzzy feeling spread through me at his words.
“Say it.”
“I’m yours, Anton. All yours. No one else but yours,” I whispered.
He kissed my ear, then pulled back to look at me, his eyes burning with desire. “Let’s go home.”
I didn’t need to ask why. The steely length of him strained against my stomach. The thought of his beautiful cock made my mouth water. But as much as I loved sucking him off, right now, I wanted him deep inside me.
When he released me, I was surprised to notice half a dozen couples had joined us on the dan
ce floor. I had been too drowned in a lusty haze to realize it. Unfortunately, fucking Caleb Jennings thwarted our hasty retreat.
“Anton,” he said, blocking our path, “I hope you weren’t leaving already. There are some urgent matters we need to discuss.”
The look on Anton’s face said it all. He was in no mood for any kind of discussion with Caleb right now, urgent or otherwise.
“I promise, it won’t be long. But we’re unable to proceed with the construction work without your approval,” Caleb said, his face taking on a sad expression.
“Let’s get this over with,” Anton said with an aggravated sigh. “Let’s go back to our booth.”
“Wait.” I pulled on his hand as he started towards our table. “I’ll go to the ladies’ room while you two discuss business.”
He nodded and released my hand. I watched him walk back to the table, his gait unusually stiff. I couldn’t help but wonder about the cause; annoyance or too hard a shaft? The latter pleased me more. It was only fair considering my trip to the bathroom was to wipe off some of the mess between my thighs. Soaking wet and no undies to dam my arousal, I didn’t trust myself to sit down without leaving a trace behind.
Weaving my way through the tables, I entered the bathroom.
CHAPTER 11
Grace
The gleaming dark marble floor of Risqué’s bathroom and the creamy walls made the room enormous. It was divided into two sections; the powder room in front and the stalls in the back. One long sink with motion-sensor faucets occupied the length of the powder room’s left wall. Above each faucet, wooden frame mirrors hung on the wall. On the opposite wall, fancy stools with a dark brown and gold brocade cushion rested in front of a long counter. Various high-end beauty products were neatly organized on top, reflected by the ceiling-high mirror that covered the entire wall.
The stalls lined the wall of a circular room with a circular pouf, large enough to seat ten people, in the center. It was covered in the same brocade as the stools. There didn’t seem to be anyone else in the bathroom so I entered the first spacious stall on the left. Seconds later, I heard clip-clopping heels walk into the room. I made quick use of the facilities, chuckling at how soaked my inner thighs were. Walking out of the stall, the most unpleasant surprise awaited me in the form of Sheila.