Satisfaction (Taking Chances #2)

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Satisfaction (Taking Chances #2) Page 9

by Jeanne McDonald


  Mercy stood up straight and grabbed a shot glass from behind the bar. “Not really. What would be crazy is to not use the hundreds of thousands of dollars of publicity this event generates. Think about it. After Indulgence each year, Sebastian’s book sales skyrocket. This,” she nodded behind me, “is a goldmine, and I get a front row seat.”

  “Do you ever partake?”

  She poured whiskey into the shot glass and placed it in front of me. “I could if I wanted, but it's never held that kind of attraction to me.”

  I popped back the shot, shaking as the amber liquid burned down my throat. “If I recall correctly, you had your eye on a certain bodyguard the last time we met.”

  She dropped her eyes and her shoulders, a small sigh pulsed past her lips. “Nothing’s changed.”

  I tipped my head to the side to meet her eyes. “Did you ever think of asking him to indulge with you?”

  Mercy laughed, good and hard. “And have him break the bodyguard creed, or whatever the fuck he calls it? I wish!” She paused and shrugged. “What about you? Huh? I recall you had someone that night, too.”

  I licked my lips and mimicked her shrug. “And if you recall, she ran away.”

  “So, no finding her?”

  “Funny you ask…”

  I opened my mouth to spill my secrets when a hand slipped up my bare back and over my shoulder, landing right on my chest where my tattoo resided. “Tequila,” the woman purred. My semi hard cock was now fully enlarged. That voice, how I knew that voice. “Shaken, please. On the rocks.”

  Mercy’s mouth twitched, her eyes popping from me to the woman standing behind me. I could barely breathe. And there was no way I could speak. So much for her being out of my bloodstream. One touch and Cedar was ever present in my mind, the evidence plain as day on my body.

  “Sure thing,” Mercy responded, turning her back on us for the bottle.

  “Nice ink.” Cedar traced her rounded fingernail over my skin.

  “Thanks.” I gulped, catching sight of the similar image on her arm. My memory had failed me some. Mine did not exactly resemble hers. The colors were different, the shape off, but it was similar. Though, I had to admit, I liked mine better. It carried a sense of me within the dark lines and shade.

  “Flex, right?” Cedar’s low voice tickled my ear. “That’s what you’re going by tonight, yes?”

  I dared to look. And God what a fool I was for doing such a thing. I breathed in deep and exhaled slowly. My mind felt like Jell-O wiggling around inside my noggin. “Um─yeah─sure─ah─right.”

  Her perfect red lips formed a seductive smile. “I like it. Very manly and unique. So, Flex,” she emphasized my name, “what do you say we pick up where we left off?”

  No! No! No! I walked away for a reason. To keep my dignity intact. I wasn’t about to travel down that rabbit hole again. But my mouth seemed to ignore all the notifications my brain was sending it.

  My brow furrowed. “You want to do another threesome?”

  “One tequila, shaken, on the rocks,” Mercy announced, sliding the drink toward Cedar.

  Cedar, just like I remembered, collected the tumbler and popped back her shot with ease. She let out a soft sigh of satisfaction that made my cock twitch.

  “Maybe,” Cedar continued without skipping a beat. “But I was thinking something a little more...intense.”

  “What’s more intense than a threesome?”

  “How about a little domination?” She wiggled her eyebrows, shooting them up over her elaborate mask.

  I had to ask.

  “You want me to dominate you?”

  Cedar moved her lips to my ear, darting her tongue over my earlobe. I caught sight of Mercy, watching us closely, her eyes dancing with amusement.

  “No, sugar, I was thinking I could dominate you.”

  I jolted out of my chair, moving away from Cedar. “What? Do I look like that much of a pussy to you?”

  I took a step back, but was halted by the chair directly behind me. My eyes drifted down her small, curvy, naked body. Just as I remembered, actually better than I remembered, her pert nipples taunted me to suck them. Her breasts, small but full, thrust out toward me, begging me to cup them. A trail of happiness directed my eyes to that sweet pussy I would love to taste.

  Cedar licked her lips and cleared her throat to bring my eyes back to hers. “On the contrary. I don’t think that of you at all. You see, most people believe that it’s the dominant who’s in control, but in reality, it’s the submissive who controls the situation. You say stop, I stop. You say more, I give you more. My job, as dominant, is to bring you immeasurable pleasure. Does that make you a pussy? Absolutely not. That makes you an intelligent and satisfied man.”

  My stomach tightened and my cock throbbed. Her explanation seemed reasonable. She stepped toward me and dragged her fingernail down my chest. “Let me pleasure you...Flex.” I knew I should walk away again. It would be the smart choice, yet I was grounded where I stood. “Let me make you come like you’ve never came before.”

  For a moment, my lust addled brain cleared. Those words. She’d said those exact same words to me at the wedding. Come to think of it, she’d just ordered my usual drink, which I’d also ordered at the wedding. Did she recognize me? Or was that a line she told all the guys she wanted to fuck? Was it a coincidence that she ordered my drink? Possibly. But I was determined to find out. Even if that meant being trussed up by her.

  “Okay,” I conceded.

  “Well, all right,” Cedar replied, an air of success in her tone.

  “To be a fly on that wall,” I heard Mercy mutter. I cut my eyes in her direction, struck by the snarky expression she wore. I started to ask her what she meant, but was stopped by the feel of Cedar’s hand sliding into mine. Cedar smiled at me, causing me to realize only I’d heard Mercy. Rather than open a can of worms, I allowed Cedar to lead me up the stairs to our next sexual excursion.

  My mouth fell open as we entered what could easily be described as a dungeon. Drawers overflowing with vibrators, shackles, ropes, leather whips, paddles, and other devices designed for what I would call sexual torture were strategically placed around the vast room.

  As Cedar directed me to an empty spot, I couldn’t help but wonder how I got myself into this mess. There were all sorts of couples engaging in torturous sexual acts. A tall, strapping man had a woman bent over, bound together by a bar and cuffs. I couldn’t see her face; I could only hear her cries as his black paddle with countless holes cracked over her bright red skin. I jumped at the sound of wood meeting flesh, but I didn’t stop, opting to stay close to Cedar.

  Scene after scene befell me as we passed filled compartments. Another male and female couple caught my attention. She, too, was bound, ropes cutting across her entire body. Her legs were suspended from the ceiling, pulling her waist up for easy access. A ball gag was fitted to her mouth. The man slowly pressed the tip of his cock into her. Only when we moved past them could I see he was sodomizing her.

  “Ah. This’ll do,” Cedar purred, pulling me into a semi private cubicle of sorts. In an odd way, it reminded me of the bed I’d almost shared with Addison at last year’s Indulgence. Except this time there wasn’t a flowing curtain or a romantic fire to light the room. Romance was not a consideration here. Black satin sheets covered the mattress and bright red pillows were positioned near the headboard. A metal tool box sat in the corner and from the four bedpost hung ropes, waiting to be used.

  I backed away, apprehensive by the sight. “You know, maybe this isn’t such a good idea. I’ve never done this before and I heard that it’s best if you have a clue as to what you’re doing.”

  Cedar crossed over to the toolbox and opened it. She withdrew a set of nipple clamps. “Nonsense. We will discuss everything before getting started.”

  I scratched my jaw, which made me realize how hard I was clenching my teeth. “I’m not comfortable,” I admitted.

  Cedar dropped the clamps back into the box a
nd turned to me. Sincerity peered back at me from behind her mask. “Not comfortable with me or being dominated?”

  Good question. One I wasn’t certain what the answer might be. “Both...maybe.”

  “Right.” Cedar sat down on the bed and patted the space beside her. “Let’s talk about this. Then, if you’re still uncomfortable after we chat, we walk away and speak nothing more of this. Agreed?”

  I thought about it for a moment and nodded. “Okay.” The bed shifted under my weight as I sat down beside her. “So how does this work?”

  “Well,” she clicked her tongue, “first we decide your pain and pleasure levels.”

  As if that made me feel any more comfortable. “Um, okay.”

  “Have you ever been spanked?”

  “During sex?”

  She chuckled warmly. “Preferably, yes.”

  I rubbed the back of my neck, a little embarrassed. “I can’t say that I have.”

  “Not unusual. Most women want to be spanked, not the one giving spankings.”

  “Yet you want to spank me.”

  Cedar cracked her knuckles before sitting back, resting on her flattened palms. “I like both, actually, but something about you makes me want to spank you.”

  “Great. I make you want to beat me.”

  She popped up, grabbing my chin between her fingers. “Absolutely not! I want to spank you. I want to show you how the threshold of pain brings about ultimate pleasure.” She dropped her hand to the tattoo on my chest. “I know you can handle pain. This is evidence of that. But what I’m offering is far more fulfilling. The pain you feel will be euphoric. It’ll make you almost drunk with passion. But it will also force you to let go and allow yourself to be free. What you will experience is,” her hands moved slowly down my stomach, “desire in its purest, rawest form. Does that make sense?”

  The predatory gleam in her eyes caused my heart and cock to jump. I gulped and nodded. “Yes,” I gasped.

  “Yes, mistress,” she corrected.

  I didn’t think, I simply reacted. “Yes, mistress. But what about all the punishment stuff you read about in books?”

  She shrugged. “I think for our purposes tonight, we’ll simply explore your sexual interests and thresholds. Will that be all right for you?”

  “Yes…” I nodded. Her expression hardened and I remembered her earlier command. “Yes, mistress.”

  “If something doesn’t appeal to you, such as anal play, for example, you simply need to tell me it’s a hard limit for you. But say anal play arouses you to a degree, that it’s okay for me to slip a finger in your ass but not an anal plug, you let me know that’s your soft limit. Does that make sense?”

  “I believe so. And, um, no anal play, please.”

  “Hard or soft limit?”

  “Hard,” I admitted.

  “Does that include you fucking my ass?”

  My eyes grew wide with her bluntness, yet, just as I had at the wedding, I found her boldness refreshing. “No. Just me, mistress.”

  “As you wish, but I will tell you that anal stimulation is quite satisfying for men. The orgasm is unlike anything you have ever experienced.”

  I doubted that. My butthole was a virgin and I planned on it staying that way.

  Cedar pressed a tender kiss to my lips. “Now, a safe word. Don’t give me that look,” she reprimanded me. I wasn’t sure what look I was giving her, but I straightened my face right away. “I have no intentions of doing anything that requires a safe word, but it never hurts to have one just in case.”

  “Yes, mistress.”

  “What is a word you will not forget that can be used if you need a scene to stop? It should be something easily identified that cannot be misconstrued as a message for more stimulation.”

  The first word that popped out of my mouth was, “Batman.”

  “Batman?” Her face wiggled a little as she appeared to roll this word around in her head. “Yes. I like it. Batman it is.”

  I glanced around the room and chuckled within myself, thinking, Well, I guess that makes this my Bat Cave.

  Cedar lifted herself from the bed and drifted to the toolbox in the corner. “Lie down on the bed,” she ordered. She rummaged through the box as I obeyed her wishes. “In the center, please,” she added without so much as glancing back at me.

  The sound of her voice had changed. She stood straighter. Her whole demeanor shifted. It was strange how she projected herself yet I found it exciting and rather sensual. This woman was about to take complete control of me. I knew I should feel frightened, because I was placing a lot of trust in her, but I didn’t. Instead, I was nervous that I would disappoint her. For an unexplainable reason, her persona made me want to please her.

  She lifted several sets of leather bound handcuffs from the drawers. “Yes. These will do perfectly.”

  In the center of the mattress, I lay stiff, uncertain as to how she wanted me. My natural instinct was to fidget with the sheets, to shift my position, to watch her, but my head rebelled and I forced myself to lay still.

  “Are you opposed to being spread?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well for our purposes tonight, I mean spread eagle.”

  Say what? There were other ways of being spread? My stomach twisted with innumerable possibilities.

  “I, um, well.”

  She rattled the handcuffs, impatience and sternness colored her expression.

  “No, mistress,” I finally answered.

  “Good. Spread your arms and legs for me.”

  I obeyed and Cedar moved around the bed, harnessing me to it. “I prefer handcuffs over ropes,” she noted while locking my arm, careful to move my partner card aside in the process. “You can’t wiggle as easily.” My feet were pulled as far as they could go without hurting me. “How does that feel?” She checked her handiwork. “Not too snug?”

  I swallowed, feeling exposed, vulnerable, alive. “No, mistress. Just fine.”

  “Very well.” Cedar traced the inside of my thighs with her fingernails, inching closer to my cock. “Let’s begin.” She raked her nails over my balls and I flinched but couldn’t move. She’d bound me so tight that my body was subject to her. Not even natural instincts could prevent her from taking what she wanted.

  A smiled twisted on Cedar’s lips as she moved back to the toolbox. She withdrew a black blindfold and turned it over in her hands. “Hmm. Should I?” She placed the blindfold back into the drawer, shaking her head. “No. I need him to see this time.”

  My heart slowed in my chest. The idea of her hindering my sight was a little more than I was prepared for. She turned to me and smiled. “The blindfold would heighten your senses and help build trust between us, but I think you need to see me this time.”

  I couldn’t help but notice how she kept saying this time as if she expected us to do this more than once.

  She gave me a quick wink, returned her attention to the drawer, and pulled out a riding crop. It was long and black and hissed when she cracked it over her hand. She hummed with satisfaction and moved toward me. I tensed, fearing what she planned for me. She slowly trailed the leather tip up my inner thigh and lightly tapped it against my testicles. It didn’t sting but the sensation did startle me. I felt aroused. My cock twitched as she tapped my balls again.

  Slowly she moved the crop up my hip, tickling me. I wanted to squirm but couldn’t. “Tell me what you’re feeling right now, um,” she paused, her brow furrowed, “Flex.”

  I turned my head, meeting her dark gaze. “Ticklish, mistress,” I answered.

  She smiled. “Some people consider being tickled a sort of punishment.”

  “I’m one of them.”

  She bowed her head slightly. “Good to know.”

  The crop cracked against my hip. It was so sudden and while I didn’t really feel anything, the sound caused me to jerk against my restraints. “Are you all right?” she asked, sounding sincere.

  “Yes, mistress.”

&
nbsp; She drifted the crop back down to my crotch. “Now, I will not inflict any pain here.” She swirled the tip of the crop around my penis. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t tease.”

  Another crack against my thigh and I damn near bounced out of my skin. The posters of the bed jerked at my reaction, but I remained unmoved. Back and forth the crop kissed my skin. My thighs burned yet my cock grew harder. I winced at the sting yet ached with need. Her strikes weren’t hard at all. Nothing like I’d seen in porn or read about in books. No, she was being gentle. Gearing me up. And it was working.

  Just when I thought I might not be able to handle much more, she landed one final blow to my thigh and then rubbed the crop along the burn. “Not even a shout or a hiss. I’m proud of you. You’re a natural.”

  My chest inflated with pride. I hadn’t even realized I’d held my tongue.

  Cedar returned the crop to the drawer and moved to the bed where she straddled my hips. “What is it that you want?” she demanded. “Be clear and frank with me.”

  I lay there, unable to move, feeling her hot pussy against my stomach and all I could think of was, “I want you to own me.”

  Her mouth twitched and her brows lifted, almost as if she was surprised by my response. Cedar shifted to her knees, lowering her mouth to mine. Her warm breath washed over me, yet her lips never touched mine. I lifted my head to kiss her, but she pulled away. Not far, but far enough for me to know I hadn’t been granted the right to kiss her yet.

  I rested my head and she returned to hovering over me. When I didn’t move, she lowered her mouth and our lips met. How I remembered her kiss. Warm. Wet. Intense. She dipped her tongue into my mouth, stroking it expertly with mine. Out of reflex, my hands tried to move to touch her. A kiss like this, my body instantly wanted to feel all of her. And though I knew she felt me struggle against my restraints, she did not stop kissing me.

  Every inch of my skin became aware of what was happening to me. She began to grind against my hips, her anus rubbing over my penis. I groaned, recalling her suggestion of anal sex. I tried to ignore that thought. She was in control and it didn’t matter if she wrapped her pussy, her ass, her hand, or her mouth around my cock, I would take whatever she was willing to give.

 

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