by Lilli Feisty
“I know. I figured that out as soon as you hung up on me.” He started unbuttoning her shirtdress, and soon that was being pushed off her body as well. Then she was standing in just her bra and underwear and flats.
Laughing, she jumped onto him, wrapping her legs around his strong back.
He caught her, kissing her as he walked to the bedroom. Somehow he managed to get her bra off in the hallway, and by the time he put her on the bed her hair was a total wreck.
He pulled off one of her shoes and placed a kiss on her ankle. “I missed you.”
“Oh, Mark,” she sighed, resting on her elbows. “I always miss you when you go.”
Removing her other flat, he kissed that ankle as well. “I never realized it would be so hard. To leave someone, I mean.”
For a second she pictured herself and Claire, waving good-bye to their parents as they sailed away. She pushed aside the memory. “Take off your pants,” she said, smiling.
“Take off your panties.”
As she slid them down her legs he removed his boots and jeans and boxers. Then he climbed on top of her and gave her that cocky grin. “You are so much more agreeable about taking off your panties now than when I first met you.”
“I told you. You make me lose my mind.”
“Glad to oblige,” he said, sinking between her legs.
She paused, cupping his strong jaw in her hand. “I don’t even know you.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know your middle name or where you’re from. I don’t know if you have any siblings. I don’t even know if you sleep on the right or left side of the bed.” So far they’d never slept together, one being, one body, all through the night.
“Rufus. Akron, Ohio. No siblings. Right side.”
She blinked. “Rufus? Seriously?”
His hand was on her hip, and his grip tightened. “Don’t laugh. It’s an old family name.”
“It’s… interesting.” She was trying so hard not to laugh her mouth hurt.
But it was him that chuckled, the sound reverberating from his chest and into hers. “I know,” he said. “That’s why you have to swear, right now, that you will never, ever, tell anyone that bit of information.”
She quirked a brow. “And if I don’t promise?”
He leaned down, his face looming over hers. He’d taken off his glasses, and now she could see the gold flecks in his brown eyes. “I’ll have to punish you, of course.”
His cock was already hard, pressing at her thigh. She wiggled until he was settled between her legs, just where she wanted him. She felt the metal of his piercings scraping her nipples.
The hot flesh of his erection felt heavenly against her pussy and she closed her eyes. “You feel so good, your skin on mine.”
“I want to feel you; I want to feel my cock in your body,” he said, kissing the crook of her neck, his warm breath making her shiver.
“I want that, too,” she whispered.
Her pussy was so wet, and he was so hot, hard. She moved just a fraction, just to feel him on her clit. One more tilt and he’d be inside her.
“Condoms,” she said. “Bedside drawer.”
He rolled off, leaving her panting. But then he was back, between her legs, and she imagined it was his own skin she felt, not polyurethane, as he slid the head of his cock from her clit to her entrance and back again. Teasing, sliding, he had her moaning within minutes. Then he entered her and she arched under him, his name on her lips.
He made love to her in a slow rhythm, caught her gaze with his. Now, there was no top or bottom, no dominance or submission, just Mark and Ruby, their uninhibited groans of pleasure mingling, the sounds of his body sliding into hers. There was the soft look in his eyes as he pulled out and slid back in, so slowly she couldn’t breathe. There was Ruby, unable to tear her gaze from his as she reached up to rake her fingernails across the small of his back, encouraging him deeper, deeper.
They came like that. Silent, sweaty, and still. And after, when he lay on top of her, his heart beating against her own, Ruby realized it wasn’t the D/s thing that had her freaked out, it was this. Raw, vanilla fucking. There were rules through submission, expectations. It had seemed so risky at the time, but nothing was as scary as this, as the feel of Mark’s damp breath under her ear, or the way she loved lazily tracing patterns on the slick skin of his back. He soothed her as no one ever had.
These moments were what she wanted. This was real.
And fleeting. Soon, he’d be gone, on tour, performing. Living in New York. She always knew he would go. She just hoped he would obey her wish and leave without saying good-bye.
When her doorbell rang on Friday night, she knew it was Mark. Earlier, he’d asked her to wait for him until he’d finished recording and she’d been anxiously waiting ever since. The next night was the Spring Fling, and so far they hadn’t discussed anything past that point.
Now, unsure, she answered the door with a smile plastered on her face.
He burst inside, and suddenly her apartment seemed to come alive from his energy. Yanking her to him, he kissed her, hard, and when he pulled back, his eyes were bright.
“We finished. The record will need some post-production of course, but we’re done! And this album kicks fucking ass.”
She pulled her sweater tighter around her shoulders. “That’s wonderful,” she said, trying to sound enthusiastic. But the fact was, she found it hard to be happy, not when they’d never discussed what would happen when he was done here.
“The guys are all celebrating, but I wanted to spend the night with you. Here.” He thrust a bag at her. “You’ll wear this tonight.”
Blinking, she pulled out yards of shimmery cobalt fabric. “Oh my God, Mark. Another present?” It was a wrap dress with a low neckline, and she recognized the designer as a name she’d seen only in Vogue magazine. “Mark! You’ve given me too much as it is. I can’t accept this.”
Casually, his glance dropped to the necklace at her throat. “You can. And you will.”
When he looked at her like that, like he owned her, her insides quivered. She got wet. She got off on it. And fuck it, at this point she couldn’t deny him anything. Or deny herself.
He stepped closer and kissed her, slowly. “Get dressed. I wanna go out.” He gave her a few more instructions before sending her off to get ready.
She had no idea what he had in store for her, but anticipation tingled through her veins. Because whatever he wanted, she knew she’d give it to him. She’d give him everything.
Minutes later, standing in her bra and panties, Ruby looked at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Her skin was flushed pink and her eyes sparkled. Mark wasn’t even in the room, yet excitement coursed through her. He’d been very precise in how he wanted her to appear, and she wanted to please him.
She’d laid out her makeup in an organized row on the bathroom counter. Black eyeliner, black mascara, plum blush, and red lipstick. Although she’d never prepared herself like this for anyone, it seemed very ritualistic, almost sacrificial.
What a strange word to use to describe what she was about to do. Sacrifice. But it seemed appropriate; the description fit. After all, she was giving herself fully to a man she was certain would break her heart.
That didn’t matter. What mattered was now; knowing he was in the other room sent a shiver of something wonderful up her spine. Knowing he was waiting for her made her heart palpitate with eagerness. He’d been dominating her from the very minute he’d stepped through her doorway, and she’d loved every fucking minute of it.
Tapping his foot impatiently, Mark stared out Ruby’s bay window as he waited for her to get ready. He barely took in the view, he was too keyed up from what he’d just finished. The record had turned out fucking amazing; it was everything he’d wanted. He didn’t care if critics liked it or if it got played on the radio. What mattered was that they’d made a great album.
All he’d ever wanted to do was play music for
a living. Everything else was icing on the cake. He’d been banging on the keys of his parents’ battered upright as soon as he was able to hoist himself onto the wooden bench. Nothing else had ever interested him like music did.
His father had been thrilled that his only child had shown an interest in playing the piano. After a few beers, Dad would begin to reminisce about the good old days. The days before he’d gotten married. The days before he’d given up touring for the responsibilities of fatherhood.
Maybe things were different in the seventies. Maybe life on the road was more exciting in the height of the sex and drugs and rock-and-roll era. Because sometimes Mark didn’t quite get his father’s nostalgia. Yeah, playing for a crowd was a huge rush. But Mark was always glad on the last day of a tour, standing onstage knowing he’d be back home the next day. He loved his loft in New York, could never wait to get back to the familiarity of his own bed, his own baby grand, his own life.
He loved his life in New York, just as Ruby loved hers in San Francisco.
“Mark?”
He turned from the window to see her standing in the living room. The sight of her made his pulse jackhammer. She became more beautiful by the second. The vivid color of the dress made her eyes shine brightly, echoing the cobalt shades she wore. She’d put on her makeup exactly as he’d instructed, so her eyes were rimmed with black, emphasizing her striking gaze and pale skin.
The stretchy blue dress wrapped around her body exactly as he’d imagined it would, emphasizing her lean torso and feminine curves. Her hair hung past her shoulders in thick temptation. He clenched his hands at his sides to keep from going to her and wrapping those silky locks around his fists. He remembered the phone conversation when he’d described exactly what he wanted to do to her, how he wanted to feel her hair moving across his stomach, his hips, his cock.
He went hard. Get a grip. You have all fucking night.
He pulled off his glasses and polished them on his shirt. “You look perfect, Ruby.”
He didn’t want to wait. The impulse to take her right then nearly overcame him. And the way she beamed at his compliment made it that much harder to resist.
He wanted her. And no matter how hard she resisted, he knew she wanted him, too. And once she figured out how much, he was sure she’d stop fighting him. So tonight, he planned on showing her exactly how good it could be.
Ruby slid into the back of the limo. Mark had been silent since he’d given her the compliment earlier, but there was a heightened energy radiating off him that made her nerves tingle. He hadn’t told her where they were going; he hadn’t told her anything. But the dark look in his eyes promised her all she needed to know.
He got in and the limo began to move. She inhaled that familiar scent of him: woodsy, earthy, leather. She wanted to smell his scent all the time. Remembering how her new flogger reminded her of Mark, she thought she might start sleeping with it, like a teddy bear.
“Why are you grinning?”
Looking up, she touched his cheek. Should she tell him her ridiculous idea?
He wrapped his hand around hers in a light but firm grasp. A reminder that all of her was his tonight, even her very thoughts.
Blushing, she shook her head. “I was just thinking about something; it was silly.”
“Tell me.”
Oh God. Swallowing, she lifted her chin. “I just love the way you smell.”
His gaze on her was steady. “Yeah?”
“Yes.” Her heart hammered as she spoke. Why was this so hard? “It’s like this leather scent; it’s so… nearly suffocating, but I like it.” She shook her head at herself. “I find myself inhaling you, trying to keep the scent in my head. Is that crazy?”
He lifted a strand of her hair and wrapped it around his index finger. In the dim interior light, his eyes were liquid and dark behind his glasses. “No, it’s not crazy at all.”
Her lids fluttered shut when he tugged gently on her hair, and she loved the corresponding flurry in her rib cage, the little pulse between her legs.
And for some reason she kept speaking. “So.” She laughed nervously. “You know that flogger I have? I bought it because it smelled like you; that’s why I wanted it. And I was just thinking that I wanted to sleep with it next to me, like a stuffed animal.”
“You are fucking cute when you blush.”
She shook her head. “I am not.”
“Are, too,” he murmured. His gaze lingered on hers a moment longer before he gently pulled her hair toward him. A second later his lips were on hers, licking her, tasting her. She melted into the kiss, held on to his smooth scalp as he pushed his tongue deeper into her mouth. The entire world faded away as they continued this simple act, and when he finally pulled back she was panting. Her nipples tingled and her heartbeat was unsteady. He affected her as much with a simple kiss as he did when he had her restrained and on her knees.
“Untie your dress.”
With trembling fingers she reached to her waist and pulled the sash apart. The fabric immediately gaped open, revealing the black lace bra she wore underneath.
His fingers were warm as he reached into the cup of her bra to pull out her right breast. She gasped as he tugged on her nipple, pulling the tip to a hard point. She noticed something shiny in his other hand then. Something he was bringing up to her breast. Two little metal clamps with a screw on one side, held together by about six inches of chain.
He pulled out her other breast and toyed with her, tugging her flesh until that nipple was a tight bead in his fingertips.
Glancing at the items in his hand and back to her breasts, he said, “I’m going to screw these onto your nipples, Ruby. You’re going to wear them for me. All night.”
He pulled her nipple through the clamp and began to adjust the screw. Tighter and tighter, he didn’t stop until she gasped. After he’d screwed the second one on, he gave the chain a tug.
She cried out, the sensation shooting through her, directly to her pussy. He reached behind her, unclasped her bra, and threw it aside. Then he pulled her dress back over her shoulders.
Tying the belt, she looked at her chest and saw that the clamps and chain were obvious lumps beneath the fabric. “People are going to see them.”
The limo came to a stop, and he turned to give her that crooked grin. “Where we’re going, doll, no one will care.”
Chapter
Twenty-Three
The place looked normal from the outside. Just another club in an industrial area of San Francisco. But as soon as Mark ushered her through the door, his hand at the small of her back, she realized where they were. A sex club.
The entrance was a small room, sectioned off by a black curtain. There was a counter, behind which a beautiful blonde sat reading a magazine. The way she nodded at Mark and let him in with an easy silence told Ruby he’d been here before.
They went around the curtain, and Ruby saw that this place was nothing like the fetish party she’d gone to with Meg. The first thing she noticed was that it wasn’t crowded. A few people mingled, standing or seated, around the low-light perimeter, and she felt their eyes on her as they passed.
She’d heard rumors of a very exclusive, private dungeon in San Francisco, and she realized she’d just been granted access.
A man walked by them, holding a leash. The leash was attached to a studded leather collar that was fastened around a naked woman’s throat. As they passed, the woman kept her eyes lowered. Somehow, watching the couple sent a little pulse to Ruby’s sex. Did she ever want to be owned like that? By Mark? She supposed she’d never know.
There was a hushed air of secrecy here, and none of the flagrant, unashamed eroticism she’d witnessed at the fetish party. Instead of fantasy themes, there seemed to be one purpose to this place: extreme domination and submission. Mark took her hand and led her deeper inside, to a corner, where he positioned her facing away from a dark wall. “Tell me something, Ruby. At that fetish party, did you enjoy watching? Did it make you wet?�
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Tremors ran through her body, causing her nipples to throb in their metal clamps. Frightened yet turned on, she nodded.
He leaned closer. “Did you want to participate? Did you want to be watched?”
“Yes,” she whispered, her skin burning.
“But you said you wished I’d been with you. Is that true? Do you want everyone to see what I do to you?”
She could barely breathe. If she said yes, it would mean pushing herself further than she’d ever thought possible. And yet, she hadn’t been able to stop fantasizing about it, about having Mark do wicked things to her while people watched.
He closed in on her, backed her against the dark wall. His eyes on hers, he took her wrists and pinned them above her head with one of his hands. Then he placed his palm on her chest and, using his thumb, gently toyed with the lock at her throat.
Her eyelids fluttered closed as everything in her shut down under his touch. A river of desire flooded her, turning her limbs to liquid.
“I hate the thought of another man touching you—hell, even looking at you. Ever since you told me you went to that party, all I’ve been able to think about is making you mine. I know you can’t stop thinking about what you saw there, but I want you to experience it with me. Only me.”
She thought he’d already pushed her as far as she could go, but she’d been wrong. Each time he dug out one of her desires, a new one seemed to pop up. And now… all she wanted was to fulfill the fantasy she’d been ignoring ever since that night at the fetish party.
“Are you mine tonight, Ruby? Truly?”
His gaze held hers until finally she nodded.
Something flashed in his eyes. Relief? But then it was gone, and he released her arms to take her hands in his. “Now, you truly belong to me. No one will even talk to you tonight unless they ask my permission first. So I need you to follow the rules.”
“Yes, Mark.” How easily she fell into her role.
“I’m going to take off your dress now. I want everyone to see how beautiful my woman is.” He untied her dress and slid it down her shoulders, her arms, until he held it in his hands. “And now, give me your panties and your shoes.”