Chapter Five
The club was as silent as a church as Jorges marched her down the hall. Maybe she’d be lucky and everyone had all gone home for the night, leaving whatever Jorges had planned a secret between just the two of them.
Nervous laughter bubbled up her throat. This was pure insanity. Not even in her own home did she parade around naked and now here she was inside a closed nightclub dressed in nothing but air with her boobs bouncing with each step and a bronze-god leading the way with a sure grip on her trembling hand.
Behind every sofa and loveseat, Miranda expected someone to jump out and shout “boo!” as they snapped photos to immediately post online. The entire situation was ripe for blackmail. Seriously. What was she thinking?
“Relax.” Jorges kissed the back of her hand. “Why are you so tense?”
“You may find this hard to believe, but this is a new experience for me.”
“No,” he gasped. “Really?”
“Don’t be a smartass,” she grumbled, but managed to smile despite the jitters.
All the teasing stopped when they reached the empty dance floor and she felt as if her limbs turned to stone. Without the pulsating mass of bodies taking up space, the open plane teemed with naughty possibilities. The question was, was she ready to jump into the deep end?
Jorges led her to the center and set the basket on the floor. He twirled the metal bar like a baton then kneeled and tapped her on the knee. “Feet apart, baby doll.”
Her breath whooshed in and out as he strapped each of her ankles to the ends of the bar. The distance wasn’t uncomfortable, but there was absolutely no hiding as her spread pussy was exposed and vulnerable to his every whim.
The satisfied grin on his handsome face as he circled around her made the muscles in her thighs twitch and her stomach roll as if she were on a crazy coaster. The drop deepened when he pulled at her wrists and secured them behind her back with a leather strap.
“Perfect.” He pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “Well, almost. I know just the thing.”
Cool air brushed along her back with his swift departure. She didn’t dare shift her gaze for fear she’d be breaking a submissive rule she was unaware of, and since she didn’t know any, that left a great deal of ignorance on her part.
Bam!
Two spotlights struck her dead in the face before panning down her body. White spots floated in her vision that didn’t fade no matter how hard she blinked to make them disappear.
“Hey, Jorges. What’cha up to?”
Oh my God! Someone was in the club with them.
Miranda let out a startled gasp and her unseeing gaze flew wildly around. Damn, why won’t these spots fade already?
Holy crap. There was a stranger staring at her goodies lit by two-thousand-watt light bulbs. Flames erupted across her neck and face as mortification set in. Under the glare of the light her imperfections were on display in all of their hideous glory. If her feet weren’t bound, she would have been out of there faster than the Road Runner dodging Wile E Coyote.
“My friend Miranda and I are playing,” Jorges said. “Doesn’t she look stunning?”
Stunning? Oh God, he was delusional.
“Oh yeah. I remember her from earlier,” the man replied. “Man, she is hot. And ready too, I see. Fuck, her pussy looks sweet. Do you want a third?”
She almost bit her tongue as she clenched her teeth together to keep them from chattering. Come on lungs, work. In-out-in-out. At this rate, she was going to pass out any second.
“Not tonight, Noah, but…”
But…what? What?
“You can stay and watch, if you’d like.”
That’s it. Her heart jumped into her throat. Now she was definitely going to drop dead of a heart attack.
“Awesome, man. Thanks.”
Miranda squinted, trying to decipher man from furniture but was only able to make out the shadowy form of the unknown stranger as he crossed to a nearby seating area. Her knees quaked and lungs burned as she began to hyperventilate. Over the sound of her wheezing, she heard the scrape of wood on wood as Jorge dragged an ottoman across the floor and positioned it behind her.
“Calm down, baby.” He cupped her face with both hands and forced her gaze to meet his. “Breathe, just breathe.”
“I’m trying,” she gasped.
A line bisected his forehead with his frown. “Why are you so freaked out?”
“I-I’m not used to an audience. Especially when I’m naked.”
“Are you afraid of Noah?”
She nodded.
“Ah, darling.” The gentle sweep of his thumbs against her cheeks began to lessen some of her anxiety. “No one else is going to touch you. At least not with their hands. But they will definitely feast upon you with their eyes because, baby, you are a sight to behold.”
Residual terror lodged in her throat, but she resolutely swallowed it down and nodded again, willing the tremors shaking her shoulders to subside.
“Do you trust me?” he asked.
An answer immediately sprang to her lips but she paused and looked deep into his eyes. There in the bright depths she saw his strength and the desire to see to her needs. That aspiration was not only in his eyes but also in the gentle caress along her neck and the determined line of his lips. Nothing bad would happen to her while in his care.
She took a deep breath and with the utmost conviction said, “I trust you, Jorges.”
From behind the cloud of seriousness, his grin broke through and was brighter than the spotlight. Lordy, that smile needed to come with a warning label.
The tension melted from his shoulders as he let out a slow breath and slid his hands down her front to cup her breasts. Lifting the mounds, he bent and painted her skin with warm puffs of his breath.
“Just feel,” he said against her flesh then sucked her nipple into the cavern of his mouth.
With lips, teeth and fingers, Jorges played her breasts like a musical instrument, eliciting a symphony of sighs and moans as he alternated between each straining peak.
“Look how pretty and red they’re getting.” He flicked at a pebbled tip with his tongue. “So bright against your pale skin. Beautiful.”
Under the spotlight, it appeared as if she had taken ruby lipstick to her areolas, which was fitting since they burned with the most exquisite pain and soon they became so sensitive even the brush of air set off starbursts of ecstasy. Throughout her body an ache blossomed and she swayed on her feet. She needed touch. The bite of his nails, the scrape of his evening stubble, the slick roughness of his tongue on her flesh. She needed.
“Jorges,” she moaned and rolled her hips, brushing her belly against the steel ridge of his erection. “Please, Jorges. I need more.”
He let go of her nipple with a pop and straightened. His eyes glimmered with a voracious hunger as he pushed at her shoulders for her to sit. “I need you too, baby. I need your mouth on me. Open up.”
Without a moment’s pause she parted her lips and stuck out her tongue, eagerly sucking in his cock as if he were feeding her the elixir of life. Gone were all misgivings of anyone watching them. At that moment there was only Jorges and the compulsion to whip him into a sexual frenzy greater than hers.
Against her tongue his cock twitched as she licked up the underside of his shaft with each withdraw. The salty tang of his pre-cum mixed with the spicy scent of his cologne created a flavor that was uniquely Jorges. A taste she would forevermore crave. She sucked harder, hungry for more of the decadent treat.
“God, that’s good,” he groaned. “Your mouth feels amazing. Can you take me deeper? Ah, yes.”
His hands returned to her breasts, his fingers plucking the sensitized peaks and making her moan around his throbbing length.
“God, baby. Yes.” His hissed then pulled her nipples harder with a tortured laugh. “Fuck. You make me want to come, but I have got to get into your pussy. Stand up.”
The room spun as she struggled to stand in he
r bindings. Her limbs were as coordinated as a drunken sorority girl’s. “Help me?”
A girlish thrill skittered under her ribs as she saw the shake in his hands as he reached for her arms and guided her to a stand. Once she was upright and steady on her feet, he retrieved a box from his basket of tricks. From inside the box he withdrew two finely threaded chains with red and black beads strung on the ends.
He clacked the beads together with a devilish chuckle. “Thrust out your breasts, beautiful.”
The gentle swells shimmed as she arched her back. Jorges’ nimble fingers attached the loop of the chains around each nipple and tightened the tiny nooses around the scarlet tips. He flicked at the beads and the weights swung back and forth, the tugs sending arcs of kinetic energy down her belly.
“Jorges.” Her gasp turned into a groan as he swallowed the rest of her words with a ravenous kiss.
If only her hands were free to touch him with the same urgency as his hands felt skating over her hips and thighs. The inability to hold him, dig her fingers into his sweat-slickened muscles was torture.
“Please, Jorges,” she moaned against his mouth. “I need to touch you.”
“I know exactly what you need.” He untied her hands then maneuvered the ottoman around before her.
“Kneel,” he said as he guided her to her knees and arranged her to lay across the ottoman. “Keep your hands on the floor.”
Without the glare of the spotlight shining directly into her eyes, she was able to see more of her surroundings, including the pair of booted feet at the edge of the dance floor where she had seen the unknown man sit earlier.
Her gaze traveled up the denim-encased legs and she felt her eyes widen as she realized his fly was open and his fist was wrapped around a lengthy erection. A white t-shirt was pulled up, exposing flat abs that flexed with the steady pumping of his hand. When she was finally able to wrench her gaze away from his moving hand, she looked at his face and gasped in surprise. The man seated comfortably in a loveseat was the young bartender who had served her cosmopolitans earlier in the evening. So this was the mysterious Noah.
Their gazes collided and his smile curled. With a shift of his hips, he adjusted in his seat, opening his knees wider and really settled into his groove.
“Ah,” she screamed as Jorges suddenly thrust a hard object into her sex.
“Easy, baby doll,” he cooed. “It’s only a dildo. And a thin one at that.”
Yeah, only a dildo. That he wielded like a magic wand. He was a wicked wizard rubbing and stroking the hidden nerve endings in her sheath until she burst into flames. The fire cooled as she felt icy drips of liquid on the dark star of her ass.
“Jorges?” She tried to look at him from over her shoulder.
“I’ve got you, Miranda.” He eased his thumb into the tight hole. “You can take anything I give you.”
Her cries bounced against the acoustical walls of the club in an erotic, writhing cadence. The pitch raised an octave when he replaced his thumb with the dildo then hit a crescendo in a high C when he drove his cock deep into her core.
Where she had expected pain there was only the most intense pleasure, a cleansing fire that stripped her down to her essence.
As Jorges slammed into both of her holes, her body rocked and the weights hanging from her nipples swung widely, pulling at her breasts as if they were another set of fingers.
“Lift her head,” a voice shouted from the right. “We want to see her face.”
Jorges’ fingers slid along her scalp then curled in the strands of her hair and pulled. The sharp tug sent a fiery frisson of pleasure from her head to her rippling sheath.
Before her Noah watched them, his features a firm mask of lust and restraint as his forearm pumped in time to Jorges’ thrusts.
Did Jorges have that same look on his face? If she turned her head would she see his eyes fierce and burning with a salacious fever? Would the skin over his cheeks be tight and pink with his passion? Judging by the words of encouragement pouring from his lips, she knew he was as enthralled by the grip of lust as she was.
“So good. Fuck, Miranda. You feel so fucking good.” The strangled cadence of his words made her cunt lock down tight around his shuttling cock. “If only you could see how beautiful you look. What all of these men are seeing right now.”
From the dark she felt their gazes on her bouncing breasts and the ripple of her ass as Jorges took her faster. She heard their heated pants and moans and felt the heady power that came with being put on display for their pleasure. It was like earlier when Helene had danced on that sparkly stage. The dancer’s confidence and innate sensuality had them all enthralled, and now it was her turn to be captivating.
She was beautiful. She was sexy. She was desirable.
All the emotions gathered in her center and erupted in a volley of fire. The wave was so great, so all-consuming, she feared drowning until she locked eyes with Noah, whose teeth were bared with his impending orgasm. Her jaw dropped open as she sang out her rapture loud and clear, sharing her pleasure with all in the room.
As her cry died down, Noah tipped his head back and let loose with a stream of cum that splashed onto his belly while Jorges’ shout echoed across the dance floor as he joined her in sweet oblivion.
Under his twitching body she melted and a sublime sucking sensation settled between her thighs as her channel milked his shaft. As the fireworks faded in her vision, in the deepest recesses of her mind she could hear wolf whistles and applause from the small audience.
“Jorges,” she croaked from a dry throat. “Jorges.”
“Miranda?” came the harsh reply.
“Jorges.”
That was all. One word. One name. One man who changed her world forever.
* * * * *
“Jorges! For once I am being serious to the point of death. I’d appreciate your full attention.”
He gasped and lifted his head to see Amaryllis glaring at him with her hands on her hips and a royal lift to her chin. He rarely blushed, but his guilt at allowing his mind to wander heated his cheeks.
Amaryllis was his friend, and was clearly in distress. Some might see her white-blonde hair and ba-bam body and think her to be a flake, but she was extremely intelligent, savvy, always collected and could see right to the heart of people in an instant, almost as if she had superpowers. Never would he call her scatterbrained, but as she stood in her living room with pants and blouses escaping from half-opened suitcases and her straight hair flying in every direction, she was the epitome of flustered.
Amaryllis had been tight-lipped about her past and for good reason. Apparently her father had been in a version of the mafia in her homeland of Sweden, and she had fled to the States for safety. The night before she had a run-in with one of her father’s former bodyguards, which had upset her more than she let on. Instead of allowing Jorges to comfort her when she had been visibly shaken, she had asked him to turn his attentions to the lonely-looking woman at the bar. Miranda.
Had Amaryllis known that when she sent him to brighten the night of this unknown woman, she was changing his own views on relationships? For one uncomfortably long moment as he had held that condom in his hand, he had almost tossed the thing over his shoulder and taken Miranda bare. Pregnancy, disease? He hadn’t cared. All that had mattered was being with this woman who surprised him with every laugh and made him hunger for more.
In the hot clasp of her body he felt like he belonged. Not just physically, but spiritually as well. While the night had started out to be about Miranda indulging in her most illicit fantasies, by the time they had collapsed on a sofa in the VIP lounge, he had begun to spin his own.
But those thoughts were crazy. He was Jorges, the good-time guy. The great lay who treated you like a queen, but only for the amount of time it took to get you off. Work was his longtime lover, and women, recreation. One girl, a home, family. That wasn’t what he wanted.
Right?
“I’m sorry.” He cle
ared his throat and slammed the door on the dangerous thought. “I am listening. You’ll be gone for three days. Where will you be?”
“I…can’t say.” She avoided his gaze and went back to tucking her clothes into a suitcase. “Trust me, it is for your own protection you do not know.”
“What are you running from, Amaryllis? I can help.”
“Not this time, lebshone. I know you want to help because you are my friend, and you love me, just as I love you, which is why I want you nowhere near this situation.”
“Tell me you won’t be on your own.”
A secret smile was her answer.
“What was her name?” Amaryllis asked in a deliberate attempt to change the subject.
“Her who?” Two could play that game.
“Don’t be cheeky.” She tilted her head and leveled him with that stare he swore saw right down to his soul to a place he didn’t know existed. “The woman from last night.”
“She’s not important.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
“And now you’re lying to me? She is important because you are important to me, and obviously she has a hold on you for me not to have your undivided attention.” Her smile belied the narcissism of her words.
The ice-princess persona she wore like spandex was a front for the insecure woman Jorges knew lived inside her. A mask he was all too familiar with since he wore a similar one himself.
“Miranda,” he released on a sigh. And as if waiting for an opening, the floodgates in his brain released and the events of the night flowed over him in a hot, pulsating wave.
“Did you give her a night to remember?”
“Yes.”
“And you miss her.”
He did. And that scared the shit out of him.
“Tell me about her.”
“I—” His breath caught and he coughed. “Not now. You’re in a hurry and I don’t want to endanger you with unnecessary delays.”
“Stop.” She held up her hand and waved her finger in his face. “Do not forget who I am. I can spare three minutes. Sit.”
“Ama—”
“Sit.”
ANightatTheCavern Page 5