by Lilly Black
“Maybe I just wanted to bring you flowers,” he says as he pulls me in for a kiss. “You look delicious.”
“Should I put them in water first?” I ask.
“I believe your exact words were ‘You. Bedroom. Now!’”
“I think I can make an exception since you brought me flowers.”
“Don’t worry about the flowers, but I would like to request a change of venue.”
“Anywhere you want me,” I say, and Cain leads me out the front door and into the hallway. Since he owns this entire floor, I don’t mind being out here half dressed, but when he presses the button for the elevator, I protest.
“You know the video cameras in these elevators feed the security station,” I remind him sternly. He just gives me a knowing smile as he flashes a keycard in lieu of jingling a key. We get in. He scans the card, and when the button for the 36th floor lights up, it dawns on me that he’s taking me to christen the new acquisition. It seems to take forever for us to ride just one floor up, and the thought of the guards downstairs seeing us together like this, him in a suit and me in barely there lingerie, is as unnerving as it is arousing.
“Are you sure this is okay?” I ask, feeling intrusive once we’ve arrived in the apartment to find it still fully furnished. “It looks like the people still live here.”
“They do.”
“Then we can’t!” I gasp, but I know I’m wasting my breath. Cain will have his way if he has to tie me up, and he knows I won’t use the safeword. I just need to be absolved of personal responsibility.
“They’re out of town, there is no video surveillance, and they’re sending movers to pack it all up this week. So it’s as good as ours.”
“It just doesn’t seem right.”
“That’s what I’m counting on,” Cain says as he slips the keycard into his wallet and takes a condom out.
Ugh! I think as he lays it down beside the roses on the breakfast bar and takes off his jacket. “Still want me in the bedroom?”
“I meant our bedroom.”
“You weren’t specific.” Then before I can argue, he shuts me up with a kiss, backing me up against the kitchen counter. His tongue explores my mouth as he twists his fingers around the thin elastic of my g-string before yanking it down and dropping to his knees on the floor before me. With my legs together, he has no access at all, and after trying unsuccessfully to coax them apart, he stands up and lifts me onto the breakfast bar with my feet on the counter top. Now backlit by the sun coming in through the balcony window as it sets over the Pacific, I let him gently push my legs apart, and he begins to tease me with his tongue.
“I love how you taste, Evan,” he whispers. “And I love your pussy…how it’s concealed until I turn you on, and it opens up…like a beautiful flower that only blooms for me.” Cain’s words tear through me as he attacks me with his mouth, and in a rare moment during this act, I hear myself moaning loudly. Craving more, Cain pulls me forward into his face until my ass barely touches the edge of the bar. He’s hungry and impatient, and just as he had predicted, being in someone else’s apartment feels so wrong it plays right into my gradually waning hang-ups.
As he pushes me hard, my mouth betrays me again, breathing my pleasure into the air for his ears alone, and his lips vibrate against my clit as he replicates the sound, driving me unexpectedly to a spectacular end. My elbows on the bar, I arch my back, forcing myself against his mouth as the blazing sun coming through windows makes me see red behind my closed eyelids, and my praise for Cain bounces off the ceiling, echoing resplendently throughout the great room. He gives me as much as I can take, pressing on until I become too sensitive to tolerate the slightest contact, and now, all I want in the world is his cock.
I turn and slide off the bar on living room side, standing against the back of the couch as Cain’s steely cock leads him to me like a divining rod. He turns me around roughly, bending me over the couch, but instead of fucking me, I feel him spanking me with something. It’s gentle and mute against my ass, but I don’t realize what he’s using until I begin to see white petals flying around us. Each time he strikes me, the petals scatter into the air, falling over us like snow, and when they’ve been entirely deflowered, I feel the sting of the stems like switches before he casts them aside.
My head filled with the fragrance of the broken petals all around us and my body insatiable for his cock, it’s a disappointment when he opens the condom and hands it to me.
“If you want this fucking thing on me, you’re going to do it yourself,” he says.
“Fine,” I sneer, and though I have no idea how to put it on him properly, I guess it doesn’t really matter. I just want to see what it feels like then never have to bother with one of these fucking things again. With a little help from Cain, I get it on, eagerly turning back around to lean over the couch.
And oh, how we could ruin this white leather if we wanted to, I think as Cain grabs my hips and slides his cock into me. I instantly notice a significant difference. The smooth latex slides too effortlessly, almost torturing me as it eliminates the natural friction, and though it still hits me in all the right spots, I should have come by now. It can take his cock less than a minute to get me off after he goes down on me.
Sharing my frustration, Cain always knows what I need. With an intense grip on the flesh of my hips, he thrusts into me hard and purposefully as begins whispering to me, dirty thoughts about the couple who owns this apartment coming home to find him fucking me against their couch, slipping quietly inside so we don’t even know they’re there. As he weaves the fantasy, I can almost feel their eyes upon me, watching us from the shadows, touching themselves and each other.
“She wants you, Evan. She wants to get on her knees before you and taste you while I fuck you, and her husband watches. He’d give anything to touch you, to feel your tits, your ass, your tight, wet pussy, but you’re mine. Your tits are mine. Your pussy is mine…” Cain’s words are too much. Finally, the fear that this condom might make me unable to come is released in a rush of inarticulate, airy praise as I exhale long-held breath, grinding against him while he bores deep inside me, guiding me through the orgasm to the bliss on the other side, and when I feel myself throbbing and tightening around him, I’m ready to have this fucking thing gone forever. I stand up, forcing him out.
“What’s the matter?” Cain asks, his tone cocky.
“I have my answer,” I say.
“What was the question?”
“I wanted to know,” I begin, speaking leisurely as I roll the condom off of him with my fingertips and toss it into the kitchen. “If the failings of my past were the condom or the cock.”
“And?” He laughs at me.
“You tell me,” I purr, my eyes flashing, and Cain gives me a low growl, turning me back around and thrusting into me violently, his right arm holding me upward so I feel his words against my earlobe as he speaks while fucking me in perfect rhythm.
“Your answer, my love,” he lays it out for me. “Is that my cock was forged inside you…created for you alone…to perfectly fit and fuck your pussy.”
“Oh, God!” I moan, brought to madness by his words and his cock…that perfect cock that was forged inside me, and as I shudder against him, I feel him swell until he fills me, his steely sword thrust deep into its custom-made sheath.
The sun hasn’t even set outside yet as Cain and I lean against the back of our upstairs neighbor’s couch catching our breath. Having come unprepared, it’s his turn to sacrifice his underwear to the god of fuck.
“Well, that was definitely the best time I ever had wrapped in latex,” Cain says.
“Baby, I could wrap your cock in duct tape and still make you see God,” I boast.
“Because you’re the mold, Evan,” he says, and though it doesn’t sound quite right, the sentiment is beautiful.
“Guess it’s better than being called the shit,” I say, and Cain laughs.
When we go back downstairs, we leave the rose petals all over the
floor to confound the movers, and Cain puts his suit jacket around my shoulders for the ride of shame as I try not to think about the cameras in the elevator.
“We still have the entire evening ahead of us,” Cain says. “What do you want to do tonight?”
“We just took care of my plans for the evening.”
“Mine, too,” he says.
Deciding to go out to dinner, he brings his clothes into my closet and we talk while we get dressed, though he does most of the dressing for both of us.
“Do you always dress women?” I ask.
“Not usually outside the dungeon.”
“So when you put that leather dress on me the other night…”
“That was not the sort of thing a submissive wears, Evan. I’ve never bought anything like it before,” he says as he zips my dress up. I let my hair fall from where my hands held it up for him, and he runs his fingers through it.
“Do you want to do my hair?” I ask.
“You don’t want me to do your hair.”
“You did such a good job the other night.”
“You,” he says, looking me in the eye through the mirror as he stands behind me, “did not see the back.” I laugh, and as I do my hair and make-up, he watches me intently, lounging on the fainting couch. If he doesn’t take those heated eyes off of me, we’ll end up missing the reservation Lucy made for us to christen my closet instead, but I know just how to dampen the mood.
“So has Trent learned anything new regarding the murder investigation?”
“Right now they’re just running down all of the alibis.”
“Other than ours?”
“All the guests who were unaccounted for between the time Liz left and the time she was discovered…”
“So how many suspects are there?”
“Me.”
“Are they really not considering anyone else? What about Sunny and the X-bitches?”
“X-bitches,” Cain repeats with a laugh.
“Well?” I ask impatiently.
“Liz was raped, so they’re looking for a man or a man and a woman, and the police think I had the best motive. They think Liz got pregnant, and I killed her for it.”
“You seem awfully calm about it,” I say as I sit down beside him.
“Because I have nothing to hide, there is no fucking way that baby was mine, and I have a damn good lawyer.”
I hope you’re right, Playboy.
September 26
On Thursday morning, Paige comes by to show me her drawings of the remodel. Everything she has done is perfect, but decorating aside, there are walls that have to be knocked out, staircases that have to be built, and plumbing that has to be rerouted. We’re leaving Sunday night for almost two weeks in Las Vegas, and Paige assures me that she can get all of the structural changes complete by the time we return. Then we can start working on the dungeons.
September 29
The day of the Vegas trip has finally come, and Cain and I are both looking forward to getting away from San Diego and the murder investigation. Trent has contacted the detectives to let them know where we’ll be, and he informs us that Elizabeth’s case is stagnating while they await a multitude of DNA test results, which he considers good news because if the detectives were truly convinced that Cain was the only suspect, his DNA would have been their top priority.
Lucy drives us to the airport where Cain’s jet awaits, and sitting with him in the cockpit again, he lifts us off safely and touches us down in Vegas where a limo picks us up and takes us straight to the Hard Rock Hotel.
“Is this the casino you’re working for?” I ask Cain as the driver pulls in.
“No. It’s an older one down the strip. You’ve probably never heard of it, but don’t get used to the name in any case because it’s not going to last if they take the advice they’re paying for.”
“Shouldn’t you be staying there?” I wonder aloud.
“I have a team flying in separately to pose as guests because the casino staff will know who I am pretty quickly.”
The driver wheels our baggage in, and Cain and I are ushered into a private checkin area reserved for guests in the suites where drinks and snacks are offered, and in minutes, we have our room cards in our hands and are heading through the massive casino to the elevator. We’re staying in the Provocateur Suite, and when we get there, a quick look around explains the name. There is a bondage cross, a cage, shackles on the wall, and a bed three queen-sized mattresses wide.
The bellman carries our suitcases in, and directing him where to set them, Cain slips him a tip as I stand in the shadows, anxious for him to leave.
“Are you not uncomfortable with people knowing you are renting this suite?” I ask when the door closes behind him.
“It’s a novelty suite in Las Vegas. No one would even be interested.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“Do you not like it? They have better suites if you’d prefer. I just thought this place might give you some ideas for the home dungeon.”
“It already has,” I say, planning to take some pictures for Paige of features that have caught my eye like the large, open shower that is part of the playroom.
Later, after I’ve unpacked us both, Cain’s phone rings from the living room where he has set up his remote office. He answers it on speaker, and I hear his brother’s voice come blaring out.
“This place fucking sucks!” Caleb announces.
“You’re just now getting to your room?” Cain asks as I look on confused.
“Yes!” Caleb shouts as Cain whispers in my ear that Caleb is one of the plants he has brought in to stay at the hotel where he’s working this week.
“I thought your plane got in before mine.”
“It did!” Caleb bitches. “I had to wait in a ridiculously long line with the general public to check in, and it took for-fucking-ever to get a bellman in this shithole!”
General public? He is definitely Catherine’s son!
“Is it really that bad?” Cain asks.
“Fucking A it is!” Caleb shouts.
“Good,” Cain says, laughing. “This is the kind of feedback I need.”
“Blow me!” Caleb spits.
“It’s just a few days, princess.”
“You’re a dick,” Caleb says, hanging up, and Cain just laughs.
“Why is your brother working for you?” I ask.
“For Nicole.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I have been trying to talk Cay into coming to work for me for years so he can divorce the harpy, but all I ever hear is ‘I am not taking a handout from my little brother.’”
“But he’s willing to do that for Nicole?” I ask, charmed by it.
“He’s willing to try, so don’t say anything to her,” Cain warns. “In fact, don’t say anything to Cay either.” He explains that his brother’s pride would prevent him from admitting that he is actually doing this job for Nicole as getting him here took a series of lies carefully designed to save Caleb’s ego. Since he is only staying for five days, Caleb took vacation time from the distillery, but Cain is hoping he can convince his brother that he needs him full time without making the job offer seem like a handout when a handout is exactly what it would be given the salary he needs.
Evening of September 29
Before we have to get ready for the dinner reservation Cain made, he lures me into the room with the cage for a more inclusive tour, and I quickly lose my urge to go out.
“They have room service here, right?” I ask.
“Yes, but I’m still taking you out. I just showed you all of the amenities to get you thinking about what I’m going to do to you in here later,” Cain says.
“Oh, you definitely have me thinking,” I admit with a lascivious grin.
“Good. Come here.” Standing in the doorway to the bath, Cain beckons me, his eyes possessing me I close the space between us. He lifts me up, wrapping my legs around him, and he carries me to the vanity
where he reaches up my skirt and pulls my panties off. Sitting me down on the edge, we work together to get his pants undone, and as soon as he’s free, he attacks me, fucking me hard and fast, crashing into me with excessive force. I feel my nails digging deep into his forearms, but so possessed by the intensity of the moment, I can’t make myself let go.
Cain leans in to kiss me, grabbing my head, holding it so roughly I can feel each finger pressing into the back of my scalp as his mouth assaults mine. Savagely, he bites my lower lip, my ears, my neck, and it feels so good as I linger right on the edge, each thrust threatening to be the one to make me come. I fight to stave off my orgasm as his cock becomes like granite inside me, unyielding, his flesh stretched tight and smooth, and I don’t let go until I feeling him explodes inside me in a flood of euphoria and desire. My voice worships his name as my legs tremble and my body convulses, and I become ethereal, my mind lost in a fugue where I am nothing but the pleasure I feel. Cain puts his arms around me, and with his cock still inside me, in a perfect moment, we meld together.
“Evan,” he breathes into me as he rests his head on my shoulder, his face lost in my hair. “God, I love you, Evan.”
September 30
On Monday morning, Cain rises early to meet with his client. He puts a credit card on the nightstand as he leaves for work, ordering me to use to get anything I want. Hating the idea of spending his money, I demand a limit, but in typical Cain fashion, he gives me a quota.
After a room service breakfast and a hot shower, I pick up the card and find that he has left a note with it, and what I expect to be a written authorization for me to use his credit card is actually a list of addresses for lingerie boutiques and adult toy stores. I can definitely find some things I need in those places, and I will have no trouble using the card without an authorization because as I tuck it into my purse, I notice it has my name on it. I don’t know how I should feel about that.
October 4
“Hey,” Cain says as he walks through the door Friday evening.
“Hey,” I echo, and he kisses me as he drops his briefcase to the floor. I’m so happy the weekend has finally come. I’ve enjoyed myself this week, but when Cain was working, whether I was lounging around the pool or shopping, I spent most of my time just waiting for him to come home to me.