by JR King
The man smiled with lecherous confidence, and I couldn’t help but hearken back to a glorious masquerade ball I’d attended six years ago. I often wondered how it would feel to make love to my mysterious dance partner. Would I feel anything at all? He’d probably realize in seconds how frigid I was, discarding me like the few others had done before him.
I wondered what this man’s hands must feel like. They were large and yet not meaty, but rather sinuous. Long fingered and perfectly proportioned. There was a birthmark on his left hand between his thumb and forefinger. While I traced the veins on the back of his hand with my eyes, I became aware he’d caught me.
And just like that I became an awkward girl.
He placed his hand on my back, nearly on the tickly part of my waist. I gasped at the electric contact. The scant touch released a thousands milligrams of Serotonin in my brain. Unspeakable, dirty images fluttered in my mind. “My name is Alexander.” His words, saturated with power, cradled my promiscuous side. “Allow me to undo the knots and remove the tape. I won’t hurt you.”
Chivalry isn’t dead, I mused. There was no silver lining. His proximity made my skin tingle, his voice hypnotizing me. It could make a sneeze sound sexy. The grey of his eyes now looked like melanite…oh God…things became as clear as contrail against an eggshell blue sky.
This was Alexander Turner. Reclusive. Unattainable. I knew this from the society pages, acquainted with him in that way the lower class speculates about the upper class. Why, Jane, why? I’d been enamored of the idea of working for his company, but HR had rejected my application, stating they were leanly staffed with highly skilled and dedicated associates.
That irksome flicker of want, that predictable pull no longer surprised me. I decided I had to fight him or something, or else my body would divulge my attraction to him.
Alexander Turner
The Man Seduces Girl
My jaw fell to the floor. God. Oh God. This was almost messianic. I felt like a kid at Christmas, smack in the middle of opening presents, satisfying my Santa Claus jones. Piles of gifts and a limitless breakfast buffet.
Hold on to your britches, here’s another thing you should know about me. I detested buffets. Food that’s been kept warm to cultivate bacteria before charging for it? Non-kitchen staff scattering like cockroaches around edibles that could enter my mouth?
No way, José.
But this.
I mean this.
You had to see it.
The All American Buffet no sane living person could refuse.
Elena ticked all the right boxes for a sweet bedroom treat. She was safely tied and gagged on a king-size bed, white sheets making the contrast of her black lingerie—corset, boyshorts, garter belt, stockings—even starker. A thin sheen of sweat on her forehead told me she was unenjoying the hellish task, fearing the anticipation of things to come.
I arched an eyebrow when Ray coughed meaningfully and asked, “Sticky wicket?”
I shot him an impersonal stare. “Right on.”
Being expeditious, he proposed, “Leave her like this and call the reception desk.”
“This horse has been beaten enough for today. I’ll do this myself.”
“As you wish. I’ll be in my room if you need me,” he called from the hallway, in a voice that sounded tinged with amusement—to me.
Exhaling in a rush, I stepped closer. I wasn’t about to pull my hair out. I hadn’t waited all these years to worship this glorious fille fatale in a passive, amateurish fashion, had I? After all, there was a significant chance she’d managed to put two and two together.
I could now see the mahogany cabinet that stood next to the bed, see the mobile phone and the clutch bag that were left on it, belongings Elena would recuperate after her creative display. Because I didn’t fancy pedestrian interruptions, I reached out to confiscate her iPhone, switched it off, and tucked it away in my trouser pocket. I walked over to the head of the bed so that I was standing over the length of her body. She looked back at me, her gaze shy, demanding, imploring. Shivering like a week-old marmoset. Pretty girl was definitely pet material. I wouldn’t only have her, I would also own her. She was already mine, she just didn’t know it yet.
Mind whirling like a dervish, I took a moment to enjoy viewing her creamy white skin, her long legs, and the curve of her breasts against her ribs. Her nipples were hard. Maybe from the half-naked exposure to the room’s cool air, maybe from some secret excitement, more probably from dread. The look of fear that greeted me over her taped mouth was gratifying.
I took another moment imagining her eyes looking up at me as she took my cock into her hot little mouth. Cutting its drug-induced hibernation short, the appendage in question woke up, tightening my trousers as it stirred and hardened. Now, a low sheen started to form across Elena’s breasts, and I fought the urge to bend my head and taste the salt on her skin. Only inches away, gorgeously smooth, tanned skin was gleaming with sweat, not moisturizer. I squatted down on my haunches, and as I did so, my gaze transferred from her face to her inner thighs. Plundering pussy, I thought absently. That’s what came to my mind while I touched her wrists. Such perfect words for such a wonderful act. Through all the alarm bells ringing in my head, that’s all the fruit that was worth picking, all I wanted. Her pussy. To sink my tongue into it and never unlock my mouth again.
The whimpering behind the tape served to make me stiff and more determined to take as much fun from this as possible. Standing up, I ran my hand up the edge of the mattress and reached for her back. “My name is Alexander. Allow me to undo the knots and remove the tape. I won’t hurt you.” I could feel her trembling already.
After a muffled gasp, her head fell back, hitting the headboard with a dull thud.
“Careful now,” I intoned, trying to placate her with my eyes.
I could hear her mumbling pleas for something—I assumed sympathy, through the black strip on her mouth.
When I finished untying her wrists, in next to no time she reached for my hands, trying to dig her fingernails into my flesh. I pulled away from her but managed to seize her wrists, gripping them hard, forcing her to stay calm against the headboard. I held her there, and forged viciousness into my tone, “Do you want me to hurt you? Should I get you in line?”
She shook her head vigorously.
“Then don’t move, could you do that? It’s a simple thing, really.”
A small nod came my way.
I reached down for her ankles, and raised her legs high to undo the second set of knots. Then I reached for her pretty face, cradling her jaw as I spoke, “I believe your gag has lost its usefulness. It’s like ripping off a sticky band-aid.” She felt hot to my touch, the softness of her skin incomparable to anything I’d ever felt before. “Lean forward, hands on your sides,” I instructed her.
She bent forward gracefully from the waist, placing her palms down on the bed’s counterpane. Before tearing off the tape, I watched her breasts bounce deliciously within their semi-cradles. Thankfully she wasn’t too big in the chest department, I could picture her as a firm handful.
I ripped the tape from her mouth faster than a jacketed lead bullet valleyed and pierced soft flesh, causing her to cry out and cringe. “It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re okay.”
She let out the tiniest meep. “Don’t hurt me.”
Not yet, I thought to myself. “I won’t, as long as you behave graciously,” I told her, not really meaning it. In unrehearsed situations, I always made up the rules as I went along. I delighted in the fact that forced sex made consensual would leave her no choice but to come for me. Again and again. She’d cry and beg and entreat me to stop, but my ears would be shut to all that. After all, wasn’t this the same girl who’d spoken on the phone, manipulating my mother?
Since then, I had mastered manipulation. It was easy to fantasize about Elena in that helpless way, to picture myself pinning her with the weight of my body, feeling her struggle beneath me as my brutal hand spread her unwilli
ng thighs to force my cock into her. I wouldn’t be lenient.
To you I must sound like a horrible man, but all it took was reliving the memory of the horror and anguish her family caused to mine. I used it as fuel for my intentions, then I imagined ways to hurt Elena, acts that would frighten her, make her feel like she was nothing. Make her regret even contemplating the act of destroying what was left of my family. Make her sorry ass belong to me.
Elena said, “Who are you again? I think I’ve seen you on TV.” She had one of those throaty voices that send a tingle up my spine.
Trying to figure out if I should be offended, I furrowed my brow and laughed. “You have to ask? Selective memory?”
She shook her head as if she were trying to shake off the implications of the evening. “I’m bad with faces. I’m…sorry.”
Nonetheless, I had to bring her to heel. If I was a nervous-wreck, I hid it well. “No crying over spilt milk. Stand up and turn around.”
She hesitated for a second before she complied, standing with her back to me, her arms at her sides.
Again, my greedy stare explored her lissome form. The lines of her lingerie, drawn tight across her skin, whipped at my senses. I wanted nothing more than to trace each one of them, to run a single finger along them, one at a time. There was something about this girl that made me want her even if I shouldn’t. Made me need to reconsider everything I had learned so far in life. She filled my attention so completely, even the air surrounding her seemed distorted, as though her presence in this suite was bending time and space itself. I wished I could get the formalities out of the way and relieve the ache in my body.
I shook my head to clear my thoughts. “You are a very beautiful girl.”
“I bet you say that to all the girls you pick up and bring back here.” The slight tremor was still there in her voice. I also saw her body trembling gently, like a baby bird that caught sight of a snake gliding too close to its nest before wrapping around the main branch. The long heels on her shoes raised her rear temptingly, the combination with her nervousness making the beast inside me growl…rapaciously.
“Only the really beautiful ones like yourself. Do you like me looking at you?”
She offered me a headshake, aloof and snooty.
My patience was wearing thin. “Say the words,” I demanded angrily.
“I don’t like you looking at me.”
“Why? That’s part of the reason why you want to share your physique with the world, isn’t it? You enjoy the attention.”
A slight pause settled between us. Then, “No, you’re wrong.”
I’d already comported myself like a dick. Why stop now? I folded my arms over my chest and continued staring at her. “Is it the adoration?”
“No.”
Still staring at her, I raised an eyebrow in challenge. “The desire of strangers touching themselves in your memory? Does the idea fulfill a devious part of you?”
Another pause. “No. That’s not the part I want—need to fulfill.”
I looked at her more closely. Actual facts, bit by bit, filled in my future. I’d been dying to flirt openly with this girl for a long time. “Tell me what part of you needs to be fulfilled.”
Her eyes popped wider and she swallowed. “I just needed the money.”
“Ah, easy money, that’s why you’re here. That’s what you want. To live easily?” My statement was absolutely hypocritical. I bore no ingrained prejudice against models. Hell, I even enjoyed their company whenever I dated one, and just so, Elena Anderson would only become known to the world by associating her name with mine.
Elena stood shivering in silence for a long moment. When she finally spoke, her voice was little more than a whisper. “You wouldn’t understand.” I opened my mouth to shoot something like try me at her, but she had the gall to wave off my response. “I don’t owe you an explanation.”
I walked slowly up to her until mere inches separated us. Truly, I enjoyed the contrast between her near-nakedness and my fully clothed form. The scent of her perfume enveloped me. It was subtle, feminine, and heady, reminding me of Chanel N°5. I could feel the warmth of her body even through my suit. “Make me understand. You’re young, childless—I assume, and healthy, why’d you choose this? Dire straits?”
“I just needed it this one time!” Her eyes met mine with a look of pure hatred, sucking the moistness of the air in the room out. “Jeez Louise, back the fuck off and mind your own business. I’m leaving. My phone, please?”
I instantly liked her spunk, her rebellious persona, plus, I found her smell irresistibly delicious. No one had ever treated me with such irreverence before, and to think that this was just a foretaste of seeing her true mettle.
I trapped her wrist in my fist. “What’s the money for?” Because she’d taken an unwarranted step by agreeing to do Jane’s bidding, I was itchingly curious. With a business degree from the Stanford Business School, she was bound to make respectable money and climb her way up.
Elena raised her free hand to her chest, pausing, as if lost in thought. She made an odd gesture with the open hand. “It’s silly…I…it’s—,” she stopped, as if her jaw had to work harder, trying to pry out words to form a sentence she obviously couldn’t formulate.
I let go of her wrist and watched a faint blush spreading across her cheeks. She’d expected comfort from me and received humiliation, and I hadn’t meant it to be that way. What’s more, I was tired, horny, and hungry. I decided to change tack. Initially, I wanted to drop to my knees and stick my head between her legs, but that, I concluded, would be disturbing. “Are you cold?”
“Could I…borrow a T-shirt?” she mumbled with a one-sided curl of her lips. I watched her hands as they fidgeted with the fastenings of her outfit.
I wanted her to peel each item of clothing away from her body so I could study the way she stood as she gradually revealed herself to a man. Was she capable of maintaining a sliver of poise with consummate ease? Or would I see shivers of shyness and tremors of discomfort coursing over her? “Sure,” a groan wormed up from somewhere deep in my throat. “Have you had dinner before commencing this spectacle?”
She smiled and looked genuinely relieved. “No, sir.”
Looking anxiously at my Bvlgari wristwatch, I felt my iPhone vibrating against my hip. I pulled it out and looked at the new message. Carina could wait.
I gentled my voice. “Have dinner with me, I’ll pay you for the extra time. No funny business.”
“This thingy tonight between us,” she spat out, her eyes nervously darting around the impressive Ebersol suite as she tried to put the situation into words, “can’t be a transaction.” She brushed a lock away from her face and stared at me for a long time, as if her large blue eyes could absorb the secrets of my soul. “This won’t be a transaction.”
I smirked. “I guess not.”
She gave me a one-shouldered shrug, vocalizing herself much too snidely for my taste. “I’m done with the agency! Why don’t you believe me? Truly, I mean it.”
“Truly, I mean it,” I taunted with a high-pitched tone as sarcasm. It was the kind of teasing goofy cheerleaders employed: petite blondes who put up an act to hide that they were more intelligent than they let on.
“Ha-ha. Is it fun to laugh at other people’s misfortune while you have it all, ace?” Her lips were stiffened in a way I knew far too well, the I’m-not-amenable-to-reason way.
I met her gaze for a bit, then—quite honestly—said, “I’m too tired for a fighting conversation, sweetheart. I believe you, all right. What’s your name?”
“Name…is Ariel…,” she chirped, her voice trailing off.
“A-r-i-e-l,” I let the name roll off my tongue like it were the most popular Kama Sutra position. “I guess that makes me…Eric?”
“Eric was a gentleman and a prince, evidently you’re not,” she snorted very unladylike, getting up in my face.
I glared at her and she lowered her head.
“Dinner, then?”<
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“I really must go home.” She shook her head, tutted, and then moved toward the en-suite bathroom. “Forget the T-shirt, my coat will suffice.”
I grabbed her by the waist before she could reach it. Pushed a wayward piece of hair behind her ear. “Have dinner with me.” When it looked as though she might turn me down again, I continued, “Have dinner with me, pretty girl. I’ll be the perfect gentleman, just like Richard Gere.”
“It’s pretty woman, not girl.” A little smile flirted with her lips. “I’m not the sassy type, you’ll be disappointed.”
I was on a roll, why stop in the middle? So here goes nothing.
I reached around her and brought her closer, giving her the chastest kiss I could muster while feeling horny and remorseless. I even lifted her on her tiptoes so it was proper and romantic. When I set her down, she quailed against the wall and took a deep breath. Her face was all pinched, looking as if she’d seen a ghost.
“Never been kissed before, little Ariel?”
“I have, just not tippy-toed.” She shuttered her eyes and took another long, deep breath. Her eyes popped open when she exhaled. “I forfeit, but only dinner, okay?”
With the tips of my fingers, I combed through the hair at her temple and kissed her forehead. I smelled her. Her skin gave off the scent of some bath gel, making me wonder how pricey it was. “Only dinner,” I agreed, adding, “tonight,” to the phrase.
My eyes followed her as she pranced around. She looked lean and lithe like a panther cub, her long locks fluttering about. The view always drew in visitors, and she was no exception. “Staycation?”
“Crashpad when I seek solace. And the service here is excellent.”
“It’s quite a view you have.”
“You know, I was about to tell you the very same thing. What do you think of the view inside?”