The Drazen World: Need (Kindle Worlds Novella)

by Liz Durano

  “I gather it didn’t go over well,” Debbie said as soon as she answered, “unless you had an early start and you’re calling to thank me.”

  “Contrary to what you may have heard, Debbie, I don’t sleep with every girl on the first date,” I said. “Let’s say that Sharon and I are still in the getting-to-know-you phase.”

  “Glad to hear that,” Debbie said. I could almost see the wry expression on her face as she spoke. She could tell something was not quite right. “So, what’s the problem?”

  “She’s got baggage who happens to head one of the tenant groups determined to block my latest development. It’s nothing I can’t handle, but it’s still baggage I didn’t expect to run into.” I hated mixing business with my personal life, especially when shareholders got a front row seat when my personal life spilled right in front of them a few weeks earlier. Who knew Jonathan Drazen III would actually lose it?

  “We all have baggage, Jon. We can’t get away from it no matter how hard we try,” Debbie said. “Sharon’s nice but if she’s not working out for you, I can recommend someone else.”

  “No, she’s fine. I just wanted to take it easy tonight.” No, that was a lie. I’d wanted to take her back to my room and fuck her, but like Debbie just said, we all had baggage and I had enough of my own. I could fill the entire Bradley Terminal at LAX with mine and it started with the letter J. “I called to thank you. I had a wonderful time with her tonight.”

  “I’m glad to hear that,” Debbie said. “Sharon can teach you a thing or two if you’re open to it. She’s a natural…unlike some people we know.”

  I knew whom Debbie meant but there was no need to say her name. My lovely ex-wife was far from a natural submissive in the bedroom, not when it came to the things I liked. She even made sure that every single one of our friends knew about my sexual preferences in graphic detail–at least, her version of it. When I spanked her ass, she claimed I beat her. When I held her down as I made love to her, she said I raped her. No, it was best not to say her name out loud.

  I said goodbye to Debbie and hung up, finished my scotch and set the glass on the table. Thoughts of Jessica came swirling back to me, of the nights she’d rejected my efforts to dominate her in bed. Knowing she was with someone else now smarted, but realizing I’d become a controlling asshole when I couldn’t get what I wanted from her hurt more.

  I hadn’t asked for much, just a connection between us especially when I was away on business, which was often. I wanted Jessica to think of me throughout the day, and so I asked her to touch herself for me or wear something that would remind her of me. Some days, I just wanted to hear her say my name. Yet she refused, treating every little request as an unreasonable demand, and I’d doubted myself ever since.

  Was it so wrong to want that connection, a bond that would surpass time and space? That even if we were on the opposite ends of the globe, we were truly together?

  I laughed dryly. Did it matter now? Whatever I’d done wrong was in the past. Jessica had moved on and I needed to do the same even if I would never love another woman again. She’d always be the one who’d hold the key to my heart–and all my darkest secrets.

  Stop it, Jon. Stop this.

  I forced myself to think of something else. The last thing I needed was my night to go any further downhill, pining for a woman who left me for another man.

  Sharon. Think of Sharon.

  I smiled, remembering how Sharon had addressed me as Sir in the car and how we’d laughed when she apologized–again. Debbie was right; Sharon was a natural. It was there when she waited for me to order for her, and when she asked me to choose which wine would pair best with the food without saying a word. It was there when I wiped the ketchup from the corner of her mouth. All it took was a look and she understood. Her tastes were still simple, still unrefined, but with practice, I could see her blossoming. She was perfect for what I needed.

  But she was broken. Just like me.

  I gazed at the direction of the Mission District in the ocean of lights below me. A part of me wished I’d brought her up to my hotel room though I also knew I’d made the right decision to drive her back home. She wasn’t ready and neither was I.

  Tomorrow, it would begin. Tomorrow, I’d let her show me how it was done.

  Chapter Four

  Sharon

  Jonathan texted me twice the next day. The first one at nine telling me he had a great time last night and he’d like to see me again that evening. He also told me where he was staying and what room. Then he texted me at four to let me know he was going to be running late. He was stuck in meetings and the earliest he’d get out was around nine. It didn’t matter to me. He seemed like a man of his word and I trusted him.

  – Just let me know when you want me. –

  – I will. –

  It was no lie. I liked Jonathan. I trusted him. He made me feel special with the way he looked at me and talked to me. When Sebastian showed up unexpectedly at the restaurant, Jonathan made me feel safe and protected just like a true Dominant would have even though I had no idea of the extent of his experience. Not that it mattered. Some people just had it in them while, to others–like Sebastian–they just wished it were.

  Sebastian had texted me, too, probably using another one of his friends’ phones since I’d blocked his number the moment I left him. It had to be him because no one else would have felt threatened to see Jonathan Drazen sitting across from him at a meeting.

  – Your boyfriend is sitting in front of me right now. –

  – I’ve been waiting for this chance for a long time and now I’m going to show him who’s boss around this town. Just wait and see. –

  – I’ll drive him out of SF and it will be your fault. –

  I ignored him and then blocked the new number as I should have done when I figured out it was him texting me. His pathetic messages only made him look inadequate and insecure. Sebastian recognized real power when he saw it and with Jonathan sitting across the table from him, it must have scared the shit out of him. Jonathan, on the other hand, was a man who could take care of himself. I had no doubt he’d do a good job showing Sebastian who was boss, not the other way around.

  Jonathan’s text came at 8:10 PM.

  – Be in front of my hotel room at 9:00. –

  There were no other instructions and I didn’t dare ask. What did he want me to wear? Did he want me with underwear or did he want me without it? What about my hair? Should I put it up using something he could tie me down with later, or leave it loose so he could grab it to pull me wherever he wanted me?

  For a moment, I panicked. I was so used to being told what to do, what to wear, even when to brush my teeth that with Jonathan, my mind became a blank slate. What I wanted didn’t matter. I only needed to know what he preferred, how he wanted me to present myself to him. What would he like? What did he like?

  After telling myself to calm down, I chose to wear a red wraparound dress and stilettos. Black lace bra and matching panties. No, Sharon, get rid of the bra. Just keep the panties. Then I cabbed it to the hotel and made my way to one of the top floors.

  At 8:56, I was standing in front of his door, chewing on my bottom lip. I was nervous. I was a wreck. What now? Should I be in ready position? Out here in the hallway? No, that would be ridiculous. Which ready position? Would he be a good Dominant? Would he remember my safe word? Would he listen?

  I knocked on the door and listened for a few moments. I heard movement on the other side and wondered if he was looking through the peephole. I looked down at what I was wearing, at my red dress and stilettos that had drawn every man’s attention the moment I walked into the lobby. A few women, too. I knew I looked good. No, I looked amazing. The dress clung to every curve, the wrap accentuating the swell of my breasts. My hair was down and my makeup was on point. Not too much. Just right. I wanted to please him. I wanted him to choose me to be his submissive.

  I closed my eyes, forcing my mind to be quiet, to stop second-gu
essing myself. Still, the door didn’t open and I didn’t want to knock again. He’d heard me, I was sure of it. My legs took a life of their own and I knelt, my knees touching the soft carpet. Anyone could step out of the elevator at the other end of the hallway and see me kneeling. But I could no longer worry about what they’d think. My mind chose not to focus on that anymore. It was now set on Jonathan on the other side of the door. Maybe he’d see me kneeling. Maybe he’d see the submissive I was.

  I stayed there still kneeling, my eyes cast down, my hands, palms up, resting on top of my thighs spread shoulder-width apart. I wanted to serve him and only him. I wanted to please him.

  I wanted him to see me.

  A minute passed, and then another. Was he going to open the door at all? Fear began to seep through the edges of my mind, doubt shifting from the shadows, ready to taunt me. I kept my gaze lowered, centering my breathing. I pushed the dark thoughts away. I thought only of Jonathan with his tousled copper hair and his beautiful green eyes. I thought of his mouth and straight row of perfect teeth, his broad chest, flat stomach and slim hips. Then I thought of his hands, of the power he could wield over me with just a flick of a wrist or a lift of his finger. And then his voice, that smooth and steady voice that lowered whenever he was displeased.

  One word, one gesture. That was all I needed. Give me a sign, Sir. Show me you want me.

  The door opened and I saw his shoes first and then his trousers though I didn’t dare lift my gaze to look at his face. I hadn’t earned it, not yet. I smelled his cologne, sage and fog all rolled into one, felt his presence take over my senses–sight, sound, and everything in between, conquering every moment of doubt I’d dared to entertain. He stood before me, towering like the king he was.

  His fingers caressed my cheek. His first touch, and I sighed with gratitude. He did more than just open his door. He saw me.

  Jonathan slid his fingers under my chin as his thumb softly stroked my lower lip. My breath hitched and it was as if time stood still. Then he tilted my face upward and I met his gaze.

  “Sharon,” he murmured, and I felt my chest swell with pride. The butterflies in my stomach fluttered to life and desire settled between my legs, maddening in its intensity. “You’re on time.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Then he withdrew his hand and held it out toward me, palm up. “Come in.”

  Chapter Five

  Jonathan

  Kneeling. A woman was kneeling for me. Fuck, if there was one thing that could make my dick rock hard in a split second, that was it–among other things. I never realized how hot a woman looked on her knees, waiting for me.

  The elevator doors at the end of the hall whispered open just as I led her into the room and shut the door behind me. There was an element of thrill to what she’d done, and it intrigued me. There was no shame, no worry for what anyone would think. It was as if nothing else mattered but me witnessing her submission and accepting it–like a precious gift.

  And it was a gift.

  After the day I’d had, Sharon was a sight to behold, and for a moment, I just wanted to look at her and marvel at how beautiful she was, even more beautiful when she knelt for me, stirring feelings inside me I’d long forgotten. No, they hadn’t been forgotten. They’d had to be set aside because Jessica had made them shameful. How dare I hold her down when I made love to her or spank her ass and, god forbid, pull her hair?

  Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t realize Sharon had turned around and made her way back to me until she was standing in front of me. Her blue-grey eyes seemed to see right through me. She didn’t say anything, she didn’t have to. She tugged on the ties of her dress and one side fell open to reveal creamy smooth skin, full breasts and pink nipples hardening before my eyes. She dipped one shoulder like a dancer and the dress slipped down her arm. She did the same to the other shoulder and as the dress began to slide off her, I caught it in my hand and tossed it to the nearest chair. Fuck, she was exquisite.

  Her gaze lowered and her hand brushed against the front of my trousers, my dick rock hard even after all the blame and shame I’d managed to stir inside my mind, self-flagellation I didn’t need. She undid my trousers, pulled down the zipper and slipped my cock from the confines of my boxers.

  “May I, Sir?” she asked as she knelt, her gaze holding mine.

  “Yes,” I whispered, allowing the sensations to pull me out of my thoughts and bring me back into my body, back to its needs.

  Sharon’s tongue felt exquisite against my dick as she lathered the underside from bottom to tip before letting the head of my cock slip between her lips. She’d brought her hands behind her back, leaving nothing but her mouth to worship me, her sinful mouth and those blue-grey eyes still looking up at me, holding me and keeping me present. Just me and my dick.

  “Sharon…” After that, I could not form words.

  She hummed and her mouth and her tongue vibrated around my cock. I closed my eyes and drew my head back, allowing myself to take in everything, not caring if ‘everything’ meant only my dick in her mouth. She was good, her tongue flat against the underside of my cock as she opened her mouth wide enough to take all of me. The day forgotten, the past set aside, it was just us inside that room, her talented mouth and tongue and my cock. I placed my hands on the back of her head and pushed her toward me, forcing her to take me deeper into her mouth. No resistance, no fight. She was taking me all in, making sounds that had no words. My hips thrust forward and I felt her nose hit my stomach. I looked down and still, her gaze was on me, her eyes watering and her mascara running, and yet she did not complain. She did not pull back. She simply took all of me.

  I slowed down, not wanting to come just yet even though I knew I was almost there. I was a man starved of everything important to him, shamed for the things he thought would make him complete. But not here, not anymore. No one was shaming anyone. We’d come here to play, to learn, and become what we were. I pulled her off my cock and she gasped, still looking at me, her drool connecting us still.

  “I’m coming,” I whispered and this time, Sharon closed her eyes as I slid my cock into her mouth in one smooth stroke, her tongue cradling me, the head of my dick hitting the back of her throat. A few more thrusts and I was there, so there. Still gripping her hair, I held her head in place as I came hard, and she took me, all of it, down her throat.

  I loosened my grip on her hair as she cleaned me up with her tongue, swallowing every drop. I struggled to catch my breath as my orgasm subsided like waves receding into the endless ocean. I pulled out and she kissed the tip before licking her lips and swallowing. It was slow and deliberate and meant for my eyes only.

  “Thank you, Sir,” Sharon whispered and for a few moments, I let the meaning behind her words sink in. I wanted to tell her she could call me Jonathan and that she didn’t have to call me Sir at every turn. I liked hearing my name said out loud. But Sharon was only doing what she knew best.

  Then I felt it, the weight of the guilt and the shame I’d carried with me since Jessica left me lift off my shoulders. It didn’t mean I was free of them, but for tonight, they were gone.

  After I tucked myself back into my pants, I helped Sharon back to her feet. Her mascara had run down her face and her lipstick had smeared, but she looked just as stunning as when I first saw her kneeling outside my door. But I wasn’t done. We’d just started.

  “Get on the bed. On your back,” I said, unbuttoning my shirt as Sharon did as she was told. She had an amazing ass and her legs seemed like they went for miles in her stilettos. As she lay on her back, she propped herself up on her elbows and watched me undress.

  With only the trousers left to slip off, it hit me. Ever since I declared my vows, I never imagined I’d be fucking anyone but Jessica. Daydreams were fine, but doing it, no. I’d been faithful. I was in love. I still was.

  I exhaled. Of all the things I could have been thinking of while a woman was waiting for me to fuck her brains out, Jessica was the last on the list. I w
as still smarting. I was still hurt. I was still humiliated.

  “Sir?”

  “Call me Jonathan. I’m not your Sir. Not yet.” My response was abrupt, and Sharon bit her lip as if chastised. My tone softened. “What did you want to tell me?”

  “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to,” she said. Her voice was soft, kind, no judgment forthcoming. It was as if she knew what—or who—had just crossed my mind.

  “Lie down,” I said and Sharon eased the pressure off her elbows and straightened her arms on the bed. I lifted her ankle and kissed the inside of her calf. I felt her stiffen as my mouth moved down to the skin just above her ankle bone and I noticed a line that looked like it had been rubbed raw sometime in the past but had since healed. Still, it was recent.

  She relaxed when I shifted my attention away from the scar and slipped the stiletto off her foot. She looked amazing wearing them but she didn’t need them in bed. I dropped the stiletto to the floor and did the same with the other one, leaving her with only her underwear. Black lace. But even that had to go.

  I crawled between her legs and gripped the waistband of her panties. Sharon lifted her hips, helping me slide them off. One leg up and then the other before I tossed the panties to the chair next to the bed. I wanted her bare, vulnerable. I’d been vulnerable enough.

  She was wet, her pussy lips glistening in the soft light of the hotel room. “Tell me what you like, Sharon,” I said as I spread her legs with my hands and positioned my head between them. I could smell her desire and it was intoxicating. I kissed her mound first. “Tell me.”

  “Whatever you like.”

  I kissed lower, down the slit of her pussy. “That’s definitely not the answer I want to hear. I know what I like. Now I need to know what you like. You. Not me or anyone else. Whatever you tell me will stay between us.”

  She was quiet for a few moments, her gaze on the ceiling as I kissed the inside of her thighs. “I like it rough…but not too rough. It scares me but I guess as long as it’s done in a scene, it’s okay,” she said softly. “I like to be held down when I’m getting…” she paused, then chuckled. Was she suddenly embarrassed? Now?