Taking Over

by Brandy Ayers

  The new woman cupped her hands under Lydia’s aching breasts, then flickered her thumbs over the tightly beaded tips. The man having his ass pounded moved his tongue up to lap at her clit. The first man and couple’s fingers moved out of synchronization so she couldn’t tell whose finger was plunging while the others retreated. The sensations overwhelmed, and the orgasm she had been holding at bay would no longer wait to be ignored. So many different touches, different scenes around her, made her mind spin with dizzying bliss. One of her visitors whispered, “I think she’s about to come.”

  The fingers disappeared from between her legs, hands now painting the arousal they had collected on her thighs, calves, and stomach. The woman who had toyed with her breasts moved to lick and kiss Lydia’s sides and hips. The men in front of her separated, then stood in front of her and stroked each other’s cocks.

  “Can we come on you, Angel?” The large black man spoke for the first time, his deep voice sending a shiver down her spine. She nodded, and almost immediately they threw their heads back, looking deep into each other’s eyes as they moaned and yelled through two powerful orgasms. Their cum splashed onto her shins, mixing together and dripping down her legs. As the last drops dripped onto her platform, the men turned to each other and kissed so passionately it almost brought a tear to her eye.

  “Thank you, Angel.” The men stepped back, their arms tucked around each other.

  As her breathing returned to normal, she noticed the other couple had also left her side, and new strangers took their place, everyone glancing to Ronin for permission to continue playing with her. At his nod, fingers, tongues, and teeth went back to work driving her need and desire higher and higher. A few times she called out, “Yellow,” but mostly she didn’t need to because the room could sense when she got close and backed off their ministrations.

  The faces and bodies of her visitors began to blur until she lost count of how many people had come to play with her oversensitized body. She wanted desperately to come and yet loved the withholding of her pleasure. The illusion of being powerless sent a rush of dizziness to her head, though she knew only she could give the word that would allow them to let her finish.

  Her head rocked back and forth against the wall as her climax barreled down on her for what felt like the hundredth time in the hours she stood on her stage. Opening her eyes, a form in the back of the room caught her eyes. He stood out from the rest because of his stiff stance. The mysterious man stood ramrod straight in a three-piece suit that had to have cost as much as the very hefty membership fee to Club Zion. All around him, people were fucking. The writhing group twisted, and people traded partners as they watched Lydia’s pleasure-weakened body. But this gorgeous man stood among the fray, arms crossed, eyes only on her. His face gave no clues as to how he felt about the spectacle around him. But as their gazes connected, Lydia thought she might have seen a swirling mix of lust and anger behind his hazel eyes.

  Unable to look away, she stared at the man as more people stepped forward to touch and play with her body. The pleasure ramped up to another level, and she moaned and screamed, needing to let it all go. She wanted the man in the back of the room to witness her undoing, so didn’t say the warning word.

  “Say green. Let us make you come,” one of the strangers whispered. Others around the room picked up the mantra, “Say green. Say green.” So many people wanted to see her come apart. It was a heady bit of knowledge. Her chest heaved as her lungs struggled to keep up with the spiraling arousal. Her arms ached from being held aloft for so long, and her legs were weak and shaking with the effort of holding back the inferno building inside her.

  The man stepped away from the wall, tucked one hand into his pocket, and laid the other casually at his side as he approached. Damn. He could have been walking down a fashion week catwalk instead of a room inside the most exclusive sex club in Manhattan. Without saying a word, the other players shifted to allow him room to work. Their hands left her pussy so that his was the only one that touched her throbbing flesh. His eyes never left hers. The other hands moved to pet at her nipples, her ass. Any available inch of skin got sucked and licked.

  The man slowly pushed two fingers into her entrance. He worked with a calm the rest of the players had long ago abandoned, almost lazily toying with her heated sex. Inside, she felt raw and used, a feeling she relished and would savor the lingering effects of during the next few days. The man curled his fingers to the front of her walls, zeroing in on that secret place that made every woman buck and scream like an untamed horse. As delicious as his touch felt, that wasn’t what caused her release to build at an alarming rate. Instead, it was the cool, detached confidence he exuded. This man knew he could control the room with little effort. Knew he could control her. At least in this setting.

  “Come for me.” The three growled words sealed her decision.

  On several prior visits to Zion, she had decided to leave without climaxing, instead using the frustration to fuel her in the real world. Others, she allowed herself to come several times.

  Tonight, it would be just once. Just with this man driving the final blow.

  “Green!” She screamed and panted the word over and over. The hands and mouths moving over her became even more frantic. But Mr. GQ in front of her stayed the course, simply adding his thumb directly onto her clit and pressing down.

  Every molecule in her body imploded, sucking in on themselves before expanding out and releasing every pent-up desire she had ever held. The words and sounds pouring from her lips were indecipherable, the sensations too much to keep track of. Everything went on and on. The man kept his fingers inside her, drawing her orgasm out with his steady rhythm.

  Lydia forced her eyes open, connecting immediately with his. Though his stance suggested complete disinterest in what he did to her body, his eyes told a completely different story. Heat. Lust. Want. And even a small amount of anger that confused her spinning mind.

  Finally, the orgasm began to ebb away, leaving her spent and exhausted. The people surrounding her petted and coaxed her gently down from her extreme sexual high, giving her soft words of praise. She didn’t need them, but they were appreciated all the same.

  The stranger, however, stood stoically before her, still slowly gliding one finger in and out of her pussy as if he didn’t want to stop touching her. Somehow, out of the dozens of people standing around, some even clapping, he was the only one who made her feel slightly embarrassed of what she had just done, what she had done many times before, what she craved.

  Chapter Three

  Lydia

  Ronin stepped up to her side. “Ladies and gentlemen, the three hours are up.”

  No other instructions were needed. The crowd left the room, headed to the next spectacle or perhaps home. Except her stranger. He did as was expected, ceasing all touching. Strangely, Lydia missed his fingers inside her. Never before had she wanted one of her visitors to carry on. For that reason alone, she needed to get away from him.

  Before she could say a word, the man brought his fingers to his mouth, sucking her juices from his long digits.

  Ronin ignored the man, reaching up to remove Lydia from her restraints.

  A low sound from the back of her stranger’s throat stopped the guardian in his tracks. “Leave us. I’ll help her down.”

  “Sir, that is against club policy.” Ronin’s voice was crisp and firm, not to be argued with.

  But apparently, Mr. GQ didn’t give a shit. Without glancing away from Lydia, the man grabbed Ronin by the front of his shirt, drawing the man’s face closer. “I said I would take care of her. Stephan has okayed it. Go ask him.”

  Not wanting things to get out of hand, and desperately needing to get dressed, pile into her limo, and pass out in her bed, Lydia intervened. “It’s fine, Ronin. I’m sure this man is capable of releasing me.”

  Ronin turned and stalked from the room, his fists clenched at his sides.

  Without a word, the moody stranger released h
er restrained wrists from the carabiner. Each muscle ached from the strain of being held aloft for so long, but his fingers rubbed and massaged feeling back into them, starting at her wrists and working up her arms. Once he had worked at her muscle to his satisfaction, he unbuckled the cuff from her left wrist, then reattached it on the right so it once again appeared to be an innocent piece of jewelry.

  “These are exquisite.” Those intense eyes bore into hers, seeming to drill down to the essence of her very being. Somehow the man put her on edge and comforted her at the same time. “Just like you.”

  “Thank you.” Exhausted beyond the ability to hold a conversation, Lydia slumped against the wall as the man moved to release her ankles from their restraints. His strong hands treated her stiff legs to the same careful treatment he had showed her arms.

  In one swift move, Lydia found herself swept up into the man’s arms and carried to the private room that connected to the playroom. The small space held a fainting couch on one wall, a vanity with mirror and lights on another, and a bathroom complete with walk-in shower. Just enough energy still remained inside Lydia to try and remove herself from his grip, but her stranger held tight, cradling her against his chest as he moved toward the bathroom.

  “I can take it from here. Thank you for the help though.” Lydia tried once again to extricate herself from the man’s hold.

  “Stay still, woman, and let me take care of you.” The man’s rough voice brokered no argument.

  Unfortunately for him, Lydia was no simpering, spineless sub. Just because she occasionally liked to give up the semblance of control didn’t mean she was going to hand it over to some pseudo-alpha male on a power trip.

  With the little strength Lydia still had, she reached out and took a grip of the man’s nipple, trying to ignore the solid mass of muscles that lay just beneath her hands. She pinched and turned violently, making the man howl in pain while he dropped her feet to fall to the floor.

  “I said I can take it from here.” Lydia released her hold on the man and stepped back, pulling to her full height and shedding the persona she had slipped into for her session as if it were the fake extensions in her hair. “Now, feel free to leave. I like to be alone after my time on the floor, and you are messing with my ritual.”

  “Your ritual?” The man stepped closer slowly, but still with an air of possession that did not sit well with Lydia. “You make it sound like you’re some virgin being sacrificed to the volcano gods or something. And judging from what I just saw, you are far from a virgin.”

  “And you sound like a man who doesn’t know how to take no for an answer. There are rules here about men like you. Men who try to force their will on women. Some of us who frequent Zion may like to play that we have no choice, but make no mistake, we have far more control here than you could ever wish for.” Lydia flicked her fake hair over her shoulder and turned toward the shower, exposing her backside to the man. “You’ve served your purpose for the night. You’re excused. If you’re still here when I’m done in the shower, I’ll have Ronin remove you and make sure your permission to enter the club is revoked.”

  Without another glance, Lydia stepped into the shower and turned the water to the hottest setting, steam filling the room as the seven sprayers came to life. The soft thud of shoes against tile told her the asshole had followed her wishes.

  Finally.

  Lydia pulled the extensions from her hair one by one and massaged her scalp where they had been placed. She couldn’t deny tonight had been one of the best she’d had at Club Zion. All the participants had been amazing, and that finale would carry her for weeks before she had to call on one of her studs who waited in the wings for a good fuck.

  It took a great deal of effort not to think about how much of that finale had been thanks to her stranger. The fact that she thought of him as hers was problematic in itself. But she had done the right thing by getting rid of him. If she ever decided to make room in her life for a man, it would certainly not be some asshole who thought bringing her to orgasm one time gave him any right to the rest of her. It wouldn’t be a man whose eyes heated to the point of nearly burning her with just a look. Relationships based on passion and fleeting arousal were bound to fail. Her own mother had taught her that time and time again in the eighteen years they had lived together.

  When and if she decided to get married, it would be to someone who respected her both professionally and personally, someone on equal footing intellectually, someone she was attracted to enough that they could have a solid sexual relationship, but who didn’t make her feel as if his touch was the only one, even when dozens of others had put their hands on her that night.

  Once her trademark blonde locks were washed and she had scrubbed her skin clean of the sweat the night had produced, she stepped from the shower to find a note on the vanity.

  We are not even close to done.

  See you soon, my Angel.

  Chapter Four

  Damian

  Sitting in the lobby of an austere office building didn’t usually inspire the type of rock-hard erection Damian was currently sporting. But then they didn’t usually house the type of woman he waited to see.

  This day had been six months in the making. Every bit of planning, conniving, and bribery were about to pay off. Or he was about to get arrested. It really could go either way when it came to Lydia St. James.

  Six months ago, almost to the day, Damian had first become aware of the enchanting entrepreneur. It was a day he would never forget. He’d been talking with a colleague who mentioned the new mogul on the rise on the other side of town. She was taking the cosmetics industry by storm with her new approach to technology and makeup. Damian had made his own name in software development and found her product fascinating.

  But it might have stopped there. Their conversation could have veered off in another direction and Damian would never have seen the most gorgeous woman to walk the earth. That isn’t what happened though. Instead, his friend brought up an article featured in Cosmo magazine on Lydia, complete with several photos around the office. The first time his eyes landed on her pale face, he knew he needed to have her.

  He began to dig. Damian never went into a business meeting unprepared, and this would be no different. Lydia wasn’t like the women he had come across before. Research proved that time and again. For one thing, she didn’t date. Her name had never been linked romantically to a man or woman. Apparently, she wanted any press she received to be focused on her accomplishments in the business world, not the bedroom.

  It didn’t take long to figure out that she compensated for her lack of romantic companionship with a stable of fuck buddies. Only days ago he also learned she made occasional visits to Club Zion. The fact that Damian had never run across her at the club spoke to how sparsely she attended. The club goers might know him better by his nickname, Razor, but he never tried to hide his identity. Being a fan of group sex had never been something he was ashamed of, and it was a well-documented fact among his peers that he was a lifetime member of the club.

  Since his first glimpse of that picture, though, he hadn’t been able to bring himself to attend. Not until last night at least.

  “Mr. Rasoio, Ms. St. James will see you now.” The impeccably dressed receptionist held out her hand to direct Damian down the hall. In a former life, he might have made a pass at the woman. But she paled in comparison to his Angel.

  The offices spoke to the nature of the woman he intended to make his own. They were efficient, and not a single space was wasted. Thought went into everything from the proximity of coffee machines to the workers, to the lack of cubicles and other dividers. The entire floor was open with the exception of a large conference room to the left and a large executive office straight ahead. Desks sat in groups of three and five, with people milling about and discussing projects rather than sitting and concentrating only on their own work. Some people had desks mounted on treadmills, others had standing desks.

  The place was
a living entity, with activity buzzing around him and an air of excitement. The people in this room loved working here, that much was clear as day.

  A strange sense of pride surged through his chest, more so than he had ever felt for any of his own projects. Lydia had built this place from the ground up, starting in her dorm room in college and transforming her company into the number one cosmetics company in less than a decade.

  At the large door to Lydia’s office, the receptionist paused, rapped on the door twice, then pushed it open without waiting for an answer. Damian followed her into the space, his heart pounding as he took in his Angel sitting at her desk, absorbed in a binder of information before her.

  “Ms. St. James, Mr. Rasoio is here for his two o’clock.” The woman stood at attention, with her hands behind her back. But fear didn’t seem to be emanating off the woman, only respect.

  “Thank you, Joslyn. Have you taken your caffeine break yet? I need you sharp this afternoon for the stockholders’ meeting.” Lydia didn’t bother looking up from the binder, but rather spoke to her employee while she continued her reading.

  “I’ll go now, Ms. St James. Would you like anything?”

  Finally, Lydia looked up from her work, addressing the receptionist. “No, thanks. I have any more caffeine today and you’ll be peeling me off the ceiling.”

  The receptionist nodded and stepped out of the office while Damian stepped forward, giving his Angel her first glimpse of her visitor. Well, her first glimpse since he left her naked in the shower the night before. Right on cue, her eyes widened in surprise but for only a split second. Before Damian could even blink, Lydia schooled her expression, closing down into the professional woman the whole world sees.