Desire for Love (The Club #13)

by S. E. GILCHRIST

  On the rare occasions when Madeline sought male company, she’d done it on her own private time by hitting one of the nightclubs and taking a guy to a hotel room. It might have sounded sleazy to others, but keeping it casual was how she wanted it.

  At the Club, Madeline had resisted men—and women—before. And there certainly had been plenty of them eager to fuck her completely, but she’d perfected her role playing down to a fine art. The client received their sexual satisfaction in other ways without the need for actual screwing. There was no reason tonight could be any harder than any other night.

  This bet didn’t sound like something Jet would be involved in, but the lure of extra money was tempting. Even if this was some set-up of Roberta’s, then Madeline wouldn’t lose out of it. The bonus would come in very handy. Now that there was less work hours available and with Karim Academy’s higher school fees, she’d need to dip into her savings in order to eat and pay this month’s power bill. That meant her plans would be pushed further out of her reach.

  She lifted her chin. “I’ll get ready. Five minutes is all I need. What room am I in tonight?”

  “Check the board. I’ve already organized the rooms.”

  “Fine.” Madeline ignored the triumph blazing from the other woman’s eyes. Focus on the money and Matty. All I have to do is my usual job for two hours. Piece of cake.

  Chapter Two

  Inside the blood-red room, Harrison checked out the security cameras. There was no attempt to hide their presence from customers, which told him the Club took the welfare of their staff and customers seriously. From what he could discern, every square inch of the room was covered.

  But it did give him a bit of the willies, knowing there were eyes evaluating his every move.

  He gulped down another mouthful of the Tequila Sunrise he’d been handed by a very pretty brunette who’d entered five minutes ago to apologize for the delay.

  Harrison didn’t mind. The wait gave him more time to think, to plan his strategy. Doubt hit him suddenly. What in blue blazes am I doing here? I must have rocks in my head to think this will work. He took another swallow, the bite of the alcohol hit his stomach, and he decided he’d had enough. I need to have my wits about me if I’m to succeed. The two free drinks could be a ploy to get him drunk so his session would be over before he knew it. I’ll probably need every second I’ve got, he thought wryly and set the glass down on the coffee table. Going by her reputation, Madeline is no push-over.

  His gaze traveled the rich crimson brocade-papered room to linger for a few heady minutes on the massive bed with its red satin sheets, covered with a simulated bear rug, and piles of soft. squishy-looking cushions. Ornate mirrors adorned the walls, apart from one wall where an interesting array of sex toys were displayed in prominent view. Ball gags, whips, paddles, cuffs, restraints, collars, and what he thought were spiked pin wheels. A spanking bench with padded arm and knee rests sat to one side of the room. He’d visited one or two similar establishments in Sydney before he took this current job offer over here in the States. No bones about it, this place beat the others hands down, for its promise of sophisticated and sensual gratification of all the senses. Strewth, just looking around him had him hardening as stiff as a four-be-two plank of timber. About to walk over and inspect the props more carefully, he paused when he heard the rattle of the door handle.

  The door opened and in she walked.

  It was if all the air was sucked out of Harrison’s lungs. He stood stock still, knowing he probably looked like a prize galah with his tongue hanging out, but for the life of him, he couldn’t seem to pull himself together.

  She was everything he’d imagined.

  Everything he’d dreamt about.

  Everything he’d ever wanted.

  And all he had to do was turn her around to his way of thinking and Bob was his uncle, as they said in his part of the world

  Clad in a bright red corset, black lace G-string panties that barely covered her femininity, and with her blonde hair pulled back into a thick braid, she walked to the center of the room and paused. She placed her hands on her hips in a way that thrust her pelvis forward and sent the blood rushing feverishly to his balls.

  He took his time, examining every inch of her. She was tall, maybe two inches shorter than he, built along the lines of an Amazon with full, high breasts, small waist, flat stomach, and long, long shapely legs. Her face was more square than oval with large, green eyes outlined by black makeup, a small roman nose, and wide full lips glistening with red lip gloss curved into a practiced smile that was more challenge than amusement. He imagined sinking into her lush body, feeling her arms and legs wrapped strongly around him, her face, flushed with pleasure, her eyes glowing with more than desire as she gasped his name.

  He blinked and tucked the fantasy—no, his secret longing—securely into the back recesses of his mind.

  There was no warmth in her clear eyes. Rather she swept her gaze over him in a disconcerting fashion, more like a science professor than a would-be lover. If he thought she’d be a dumb blonde, he was dead wrong. Her demeanor screamed cool, remote rather than come-hither. Despite all he had riding on the outcome, he relished these aspects of her personality.

  Bless her little cotton socks.

  He grinned and rubbed his hands together, and watched her frown as if he wasn’t the person she’d expected to see.

  “Problems, love?” He released one button on his shirt.

  “Not wasting any time, I see.” Her voice came out dry.

  Harrison laughed. This was going to be fun. “I intend to get to know you intimately, Marigold.”

  A shadow crossed her face and he bet pounds to peanuts it was because of his use of her work name. He didn’t blame her.

  “It’s demeaning.”

  “What is?” Her hands fell from her hips and she stared at him.

  Ahh, a tiny crack in that frozen armor. He’d aroused curiosity and he intended to arouse a hell of a lot more. “This crap about you having to use a flower name; it’s so corny.”

  She shrugged and the flesh of her breasts above the tight corset jiggled. “It’s only a name. I couldn’t care less.”

  Liar. But Harrison had learned something else about her. She didn’t lie with ease. A hint of pink heightened her cheekbones.

  He undid another two buttons, watching with interest as her gazed flicked to his chest then back up to his face. “So what’s your real name?” He’d already made it his business to find out but wanted to see whether she’d tell him.

  “It’s company policy not to give out that information.” She stared him down as coolly as a queen and his pulse quickened.

  Strewth, she was gorgeous. He debated whether to admit he already knew it but before he came to a decision, she turned her back and his tongue just about cleaved to the roof of his mouth at the sight of her tight, rounded, backside nicely revealed by her high-cut corset and the miniscule G-string of lace that slipped snug between her buttocks.

  She strolled over to the wall and inspected the array of whips hanging from the pegs. “Any particular preference? Hard or soft?”

  “I can take whatever you care to dish out, babe.”

  The next moment she was in his face, staring him down out of eyes that reminded him of the clear, blue-green waters of the sandy lagoon on Fitzroy Island off the coast of Queensland and where he’d done his thesis for university. “There are rules that you will obey. First up, you only speak when I give you permission. Second, you will address me as Mistress.”

  He winked.

  “Is this your first time at BDSM?” Frowning, she cast him another swift glance as she ran her forefinger lightly over the top of her corset. “Have you undergone training?”

  “First time. But I wanted to learn from the best.” He grinned, his mouth watering as he imagined ripping at the toggles and scooping his hand inside to cup her breast. “Mistress,” he added.

  “Damnit.” She raised her eyes to the ceiling a
nd sighed. “You have no idea at all, do you?”

  “I’m a quick study, Mistress.”

  Triumph flashed across her face.

  She thinks I’ll be a push over. Hah! I have news for her. “I’m looking forward to a long ride, Mistress.”

  No trace of amusement now. Instead, she scowled at him again and he had to resist leaning forward to rub the tiny crease in her forehead away.

  Her jaw tensed and she gritted out, “Let’s decide on your safe word.”

  He rocked back on his heels and smirked. “I won’t need one.”

  She laughed. “Trust me. You will. For the next sixty minutes you belong to me. You will be totally dominated by me. You will submit to my every request, without a protest. If you speak before I give you leave, you will be gagged. You will not touch me unless I say you can and then only where I allow. You will not come, until or unless I give you permission. If you disobey me in any way, you will be punished. And I know a lot of different ways to punish naughty boys.”

  Geez, just hearing those words pour from her sweet lips gave him a hard-on. She hadn’t laid a finger on him. Bloody hell, he hadn’t even touched her, and yet he was ready to spill his load right here and now. Her gaze dropped to the bulge in his jeans and she gave a tiny smile.

  “There will be no spanking the bacon until I’m through with you. If you attempt to do so, you will be punished.” She walked back to him, dipped her hand low in between his legs, and ran a finger forward towards his swollen balls.

  His heart slammed against his ribcage. She dragged that bloody finger up and over his stiffy and damned if he didn’t have to swallow his moan of pleasure.

  Stepping back, her hand dropping to her side, she said, “Take your pants, shoes, and socks off. Now.”

  Hell, yeah. “Yes, Mistress.” Moving faster than he’d ever moved before, he undid his belt, unzipped his jeans, toed off his shoes, and all but threw his lower clothing off his body. His cock poked out from under his shirt, proud, swollen, throbbing with his pulsing blood, and already dripping from his raging lust.

  “I’ve seen bigger,” she said and sniffed.

  Cheeky little witch. Harrison held his grin inside.

  “Your shirt.”

  He rapidly undid the remaining buttons and flung the garment over his head. Breathing heavily, he began to mentally recite the alphabet backwards. Anything to slow down his animalistic need to leap upon her and take what he wanted so desperately. She was good at this—arousing a man with the merest of glances, a few lewd suggestions, the slow wipe of her tongue over her lips. She was carnal heaven personified.

  “Mmmm.” Finger tapping her mouth, she strolled in a casual manner around to stop behind him.

  She must have leaned or stepped closer because he suddenly felt her blowing warm air down the length of his spine. Then lower over the crack of his backside. His hands fisted and he squeezed his eyes shut. Man that felt good.

  He could even hear her breathing, she was so close.

  In.

  Out.

  In.

  Out.

  Her hands cupped his backside, spreading his cheeks wide. She blew one long breath over his sensitized flesh.

  He just about jumped clean out of his skin.

  Smack!

  Her hand connected hard against his bum. “I did not give you permission to move.”

  Shit. Sweat broke out along his hairline.

  She slapped him again.

  Bloody hell. I think I need that safe word. “Love!” The word burst from him.

  “What?”

  “My safe word. It’s love.” She must have leaned away from him because her breath no longer teased his skin. He thanked heaven for the brief reprieve.

  “Seriously? That’s your safe word?” She sounded skeptical.

  “Yeah, Mistress.”

  “Oh. Well, whatever.”

  He visualized her rolling her eyes and allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction.

  “Spread your legs apart.”

  Eagerly, he obeyed. What now?

  Her hand slipped between his parted legs to fondle his right ball. “Ahhhhhummpph,” he groaned.

  She squeezed.

  Painfully.

  A shudder wracked through him.

  “Do.” Squeeze, release.

  “Not.” Squeeze, release.

  “Speak.”

  Gasping, his eyes watering, his blood roaring like thunder in his ears, he nodded. Strewth, I don’t know if I’m going to make the distance!

  “Good, boy. Now, down on your hands and knees.”

  ***

  Madeline looked her client over carefully. His position was erotic with his heavy balls and thick cock hanging down, his nicely packed buttocks displayed to perfection, the muscles in his forearms and shoulders bulging. Rather wonderingly, she touched herself through her G-string, surprised to feel betraying dampness on her fingertip.

  This guy was nothing like she’d expected. She’d assumed whoever had organized the bet would have gone for a Hollywood looker maybe a surfer blond or a Latino guy. Either way, one with smooth features, a practiced smile, and a gym perfected body. Instead, she’d been handed a man with short, tree-bark brown hair who’d sent her senses reeling the moment she laid eyes on him.

  Sure, he was good-looking but more in an ordinary, everyday guy kind of way. Like someone you’d see out mowing his lawn or tinkering over the engine of his car, sleeves rolled up, grease on his hands. There was strength in the line of his jaw and the firmness of his mouth. That twinkle in his amazingly bright, blue eyes was downright disconcerting.

  Energy and a zest for life rolled off him in waves.

  For some strange, stupid reason she’d wanted to cry.

  Would he have given her a second glance if they’d met on the street? In the supermarket? A bar? Or would he have walked on by, not noticing that she lived and breathed? That she’d liked the way his smile slammed straight towards her heart with the impact of a punch.

  She stepped up to him again and rubbed her aching mons against his hard backside, his barely caught moan delighting her. One thing was sure obvious, the guy had the hots for her, big time.

  And oh Lordy, did she have the hots for him, too.

  Damn that bet.

  Who would have thought, the one man who pulled at all her senses would wander into the Club and into her BDSM room?

  Her eyes fluttered half-closed as pleasure tingled through her from where she brushed against his hot skin. She wanted desperately to pull open her corset and feel her breasts press against his hardness. She wanted skin on skin.

  He inhaled deeply, the motion arching his back, and Madeline gave into her desire. Not wanting to think twice about it, she slipped off her G-string and laid down on top of him.

  A delicious shiver pebbled over her skin as she rubbed her bare mons against him.

  Her heartbeat thumping like mad, she slid her splayed hands over his sides and explored his chest. When her fingers found his nipples, she tugged hard. Three times before she let her hands drift over his flat stomach to where she teased the hair covering his groin.

  He flung his head back.

  His breathing was little more than guttural pants that triggered a primeval response deep inside her.

  Startled, she slid off him. Chest heaving and with a tiny flicker of fear trickling through her mind, she hurried over to the props table. I need to focus on my job, not some guy’s fine ass and blue eyes.

  Almost blindly, she picked up a thinly cushioned paddle and a leather whip. Make him beg for it. Make him lose it. Then I can get out of here and away from him.

  She said, “You need to be taught who is in control.” Me. It has to be me. Then I’ll be safe.

  Confidence restored, if a trifle shaky, she turned around and caught him staring with glazed eyes at her bare bottom. She walked toward him. His eyes never left her shaven mons. He licked his lips. His shoulder line was taut and there was a lean, hungry cast to his fe
atures that thrilled her deep to her bones.

  “Do you want this?” She tapped the shaft of the whip gently against her skin. Watching him closely, she stopped a few inches from him and slid the whip between her legs. Back and forth, ensuring the shaft was slick from her juices. Heart racing, she offered it to him.

  His tongue flicked out and licked furiously along the shaft.

  She took a tiny step closer and whispered, “Do you want more?”

  When he nodded, she added, “Then you may taste me.”

  A savage groan split from his lips and before she could move, he reached out, grabbing her by the buttocks and smashing her against his face. His mouth and nose moved frantically over her skin. His tongue delved between her legs and lapped over her swollen labia. His breath was hot, branding her. The props fell from her nerveless fingers. He gulped, like he was drinking her juices and she grasped his hair, urging him closer.

  Her legs were turning to jelly.

  Lust burned like fire through her veins and throbbed like war-drums inside her head. OMG! I’m going to come. She trembled. Poised on the edge.

  But his mouth left her.

  She swayed as he surged like a powerful god to his feet. Dazed and consumed with a mind-numbing desire for this man, her body demanding he feed her sexual needs, she offered no resistance when he swept her into his arms and carried her to bed.

  He dropped her.

  She fell onto the furry cover, the lush fibers tickling her skin. One slick move and he’d rolled her over onto her stomach and spread her legs. She heard the crackle of plastic and knew he was unwrapping a condom.

  Wait. The word trembled on her lips only to die when he inserted his finger deep into her vagina. Her hands clenched over the fur. He pushed further inside before withdrawing and rubbing his finger over and over her wet folds. His hand left her and she began to push herself up onto her elbows. “Fun stuff is over. You need to get back into your role as a sub,” she mumbled.