by Cynthia Dane
Sweat traveled from his palm to her bare shoulder. In front of them, Starling gasped in surprise as the crop smacked her right breast. Nala nearly jumped as well.
The show was everything she expected – and everything she did not need. Namely, she watched Starling be stripped of the rest of her clothes, each one fluttering to the ground as her breaths increased, heaving her breasts up and down in a rhythmic motion. Down in the gallery, a woman groaned with a microphone broadcasting how good her damned gangbang felt. How many men was she taking on? Why in the world was Nala wondering that? It’s not like I’m into it. Yet that woman continued to groan in sync with Starling’s breaths, her legs slowly spreading open as her dark and handsome Master loosened his collar and planted a heavy kiss on her lips.
Something terrible happened while this went on.
Nala forgot why she was there. She forgot that Xavier Crow sat in some shadows somewhere, watching this unfold with the most perverse sense of glee any man had ever felt. Blood dripped from his hands, and yet these people were able to enjoy themselves – including Nala, who slowly realized her biggest obstacle had nothing to do with Crow’s presence, but the sick sense of shame she felt watching this spectacle… and getting aroused from it.
Shame? What shame? There was nothing shameful about listening to a gangbang, including a woman’s orgasm followed by a tender laugh and a demand for a fresh cock. Shame had nothing to do with the naked woman in front of Nala, the woman who felt hands all over her and let a tongue snake into her ear while a pair of strong fingers aimed for her cunt. She shrieked in joy, nether lips spreading to admit Joseph as he pumped his fingers into her in front of the entire Aviary.
She looked so happy.
That was the thing that struck Nala the most. Starling looked happy. She was loved, she was caressed, and above all she was pleasured by this man Nala could only assume she loved in return. It didn’t matter that they did this in front of an audience. Whether they got off on it or not, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the connection between them. The charisma. The chemistry. Not only were they a good looking couple, but they clicked in such a way that the one could anticipate the other’s next move. Even with her old boyfriend, Nala couldn’t say she ever experienced that before.
She was reminded of Vincent’s arm around her when his fingers pinched her flesh. Nala jerked in his embrace, nearly falling over to her side until Vincent caught her, like he had back at The Crow’s Nest over a week ago.
Had it only been a week?
“Beg for it,” Joseph commanded, his fingers all but disappearing into his sub’s body. “Tell me how much you want my cock.”
Eyes rolling back in her head, Starling nodded, her hips going back and her ass pushing into the air, as if to give her Master greater access to her inner chambers. “Please, sir,” she muttered, body shuddering. “Fuck me.”
“With what?”
Nala’s mouth watered in anticipation of what Starling would say. “Your cock.”
A familiar giggle echoed in front of Nala. Before she knew what she was watching, Robin bent down and unzipped Lucian’s pants. Oh my God. This party was officially underway.
To the sounds of one unknown woman taking on her third man in fifteen minutes, Nala watched as Robin licked a long trail down her Master’s cock. So that’s what it looks like up close, I guess. Only a few more feet away, Starling’s leg was lifted up, her Master making short work of any humility she had left. And that’s what his looks like. Soon, the only cock Nala hadn’t seen would be Vincent’s!
“Well, this is happening,” she said, hoping her partner-in-crime would say something witty in return. Instead, she got silence from his direction. Unbearable, unnerving silence.
Nala slightly turned her head, making sure she still saw the debauchery unfolding in the corner of her eye. Vincent sat, arm around her, his legs crossed and eyes neither focused on the scene nor on the floor in front of him. Will of steel. Or so Nala thought, until she happened to glance down and saw the tent struck in Vincent’s trousers.
Oh no. This is turning him on. Well, to be fair, he was a man. Just because Nala joked to herself that he was asexual didn’t mean he was. As a healthy thirty-year-old man, he probably got hard-ons every day from existing. Being in a sex club? It was amazing he lasted this long. Men can only have so much self-control. After all, here Nala was, fighting off her own arousal so she could stay focused on… on…
What was she trying to focus on, anyway? Because as far as she could tell, the whole point of her being here tonight was to get horny as fucking hell.
Forget the darkness.
Forget the anger.
Forget everything.
Sit back, the world seemed to say. Sit back, relax, and remember that you’re human and only young once. She was twenty-one. She was supposed to be enjoying her youth, whether that meant traveling, partying, or, well, exploring every facet of her sexuality that she could.
It was almost liberating, being able to forget all the crap.
Of course, all she had to do was crane her head to the right and see Xavier Crow muttering something in Hawk’s ear. The dominatrix laughed more than once, stroking the man’s cane and playing with the paddle still in her hand. As long as she didn’t look over there, Nala belonged to a group of people who celebrated life by getting aroused and having endless sex.
Without thinking – because who could think while Robin’s head bobbed up and down in Lucian’s lap and Starling begged for her Master to come inside her – Nala kneaded her palm against the inside of Vincent’s thigh, thinking back to that night she imagined him doing the same exact thing she saw before her.
She came dangerously close to his cock, but it was at that moment she snatched her hand away and Vincent turned his body in the other direction. I’m sorry. She didn’t know why she thought that. I shouldn’t be focusing on this. Wasn’t it okay, if only for a few minutes? Surely, a few minutes out of her long, grueling day could be dedicated to life’s simple pleasures.
Really, she was a bit put out that Vincent was acting like this. Maybe he had award-winning self-control after all. Jealous.
His hand moved from her arm to her shoulder. Fingers tapped her there. Fluttering commenced in Nala’s heart, and on cue, her head hit the back of the couch and Vincent’s mouth was on hers.
“Yes!” Starling cried, her whines competing with the woman’s below. “I’m coming, sir!” Grunts filled the air. The scent of heady sex met Nala’s nose as Vincent’s cologne mingled with it. Oh my God, ohmygod. Her hand untangled from his and shot into his hair, her mouth parting to accept his tongue the moment it plummeted down her throat.
Joseph climaxed with an intense roar that nearly knocked Nala over the back of the couch. Except Vincent was there, caressing her bare arms, her stomach, and treading so close to her thighs as he kissed with that burning, crippling passion that Nala was so scared to experience.
Her hand went to his cheek, fearing he would leave her otherwise. I’ve never been kissed like this before… Certainly not her ex-boyfriend. She had seen these kinds of kisses between other people over the years, mostly on TV, but never felt it for herself. And for everything she ever thought about Vincent, she had to admit that this… well, this was like ripping open one of her old scars and seeing what had transpired beneath.
Rush. Rushes of desire. Rushes of heat. Rushes of waves upon waves of give me more of this. Nala clung to Vincent in a vain attempt to make him awaken even more. Would it be so bad if you took me home with you? No, no this wasn’t the Nala she trained herself to be. She was supposed to be bitter. Fed up with the world and what it had thrown at her. Not… not hopeful.
Not desperate for affection.
Certainly not head over heels in exploding lust for this man.
“Vincent…” she managed to utter in between heavy kisses. “I want…”
He knew what she wanted. Vincent took her hand and brought it to his erection, letting her feel the size of hi
m as he grew harder with every passing heartbeat. Every drop of blood in his body must have been rushing there.
“Oh, fuck me.” That self-admonishment escaped from Nala’s ear and disappeared into her throat, where Vincent’s lips went, sucking her skin and releasing one groan after another as she rubbed his cock. “I’m a fucking mess.”
“Me too,” she whispered, relieved to feel him come as undone as her. At least they were equal in that regard.
“Ha! I told you they were as horny as the rest of us.”
Vincent leaped off Nala, sending her upside down as she nearly tumbled off the couch. In front of them, Lucian grinned, languid from a climax as Robin continued to giggle into his chest. On the stage, Starling was released from her binds, her skin so flushed that she needed some pats to the cheek to come back to reality.
If anything killed Nala’s libido then and there, it was Xavier Crow gazing at her from his spot on the other side of the VIP area. There was something… strange, about him. More than usual. Hawk was nowhere to be seen, but Xavier remained transfixed on Nala, pleased.
Hell no.
“I’ve gotta go to the bathroom,” she announced, getting up and scurrying away as quickly as possible. The nearest bathroom was down a dark hall. This time there were no bedrooms full of people fucking to distract her.
She didn’t have to go, but she did have to stand in front of the mirror and splash water on her face. It helped, a little. Not enough to completely calm her down from her sexual high, but enough to placate the heat turning her inside out. Calm down, slut. Nala was damn close to saying that to her reflection, but she decided to go with fixing her hair and making sure her dress was as decent as could be.
Every time she tugged on the fabric, however, she remembered Vincent pawing at her, exploring her figure with a single hand. He had been determined to pinch her nipple, feel her heat before they were interrupted. God, Nala was sure of it.
The bathroom door opened. Starling stumbled in, barely with the fucking program as she fought with her clothes to get them back on. “Oh, hi,” she said, tripping over her feet to get to the single toilet stall in there. “You ever get dick drunk? I am so dick drunk right now.”
“Er…”
“You fuck your Master tonight?”
Nala shivered, quite involuntarily. “No, not yet.”
“Mm, you better get on it. People are going crazy out there. If he’s like any of the other guys, he’ll be needing you pronto.”
Starling opened and shut the stall door behind her. Shoes scuffed against the floor, toilet paper turned in its wheel, and one woman bemoaned how much cum she had to clean up.
“I need a priest,” Nala mumbled, splashing more water on her face. “A priest, an exorcism, and maybe a margarita.”
“You can get at least half of those out in the club!” Starling called.
Nala had to get the fuck out of there.
She wasn’t sure where she was going to go. Oh, at least her impulses were back. She may forget the anger and bitterness for a little while, but she could never fully get rid of the brash decision making that led her to trying to flee from the club before she had to face some unsavory emotions. Not just lust. Definitely not love. But something spoiled inside her stomach, and it wasn’t the seafood dinner.
All she knew was that she had to get far away from Xavier Crow. And Vincent. Definitely get far, so very far from that man who had nearly shown her what was what.
That was the mad plan as she dried off her face with paper towels and left the bathroom. That was her plan as she scurried down the darkened hallway, wondering where in downtown Portland they were and how she could get home to her dingy closet. Fuck the money. Fuck the mission for now. Vincent could make up a story about her having food poisoning. Surely that would get out of her Crow’s line of sight for…
“Nala.”
Vincent was there, like an arch-angel – no, a glowing demon – gripping her shoulders and halting her in her tiny tracks. Oh, no, please… let me go. Nala kept her eyes downcast as she struggled to think of what to say to him.
“We need to talk.”
Well, he wasn’t wrong about that.
“Okay…”
“This way.”
Vincent hooked his hand around the bend of her arm, hauling her farther down the empty hallway and into the darker shadows encroaching there. An abandoned leather chair sat in the corner where they finally came to a stop, Vincent forcibly turning Nala around with such strength, such determination that she felt like she was on a carnival ride.
“What do we have to talk a…”
Oh.
That.
Chapter 11
Now that they were alone, Vincent was not gentle. Not in the least. He practically slammed Nala against the corner, pulling her legs into the air until the only thing keeping her from sliding down the walls and onto her ass was his sheer strength alone.
“Vince…”
“Shut up, Nala.” Who was this? This wasn’t the stoic and collected Vincent Nala met a week ago. This wasn’t the quiet man she met in that sparse office. This definitely wasn’t the bereaved individual she had dinner with. Whoever this was… well…
She rather liked him.
“I don’t want to hear a word out of you.” Stern. Commanding. More effective than Lucian, Sebastian, Joseph… any man out there doing a mediocre job at whatever it was they did. “Make all the noise you want, but don’t distract me. Got it?”
Nala nodded, the flow of her blood reversing in an instance.
“All I want to hear,” Vincent growled, yanking her short skirt up and ripping aside her lingerie, “is that you want it. Tell me you want me, Nala. Tell me!”
Vincent’s deep voice usually sounded so soothing. Like a man people instantly trusted, because they knew he would do them no harm. This isn’t that man. He could hurt her. He could hurt her heart, her body, make her walk funny and burn her ass until it was too sore to touch. He’s gonna do it… Those fantasies she had were nothing like this. Vincent was never forceful in her mind. He did her hard, a little rough, but not like this.
No. This was better.
This was the kind of wild escape a woman like Nala needed.
“Do you, Nala?” Fuck her! The way he said her name, spitting it out like a fucking beast was doing things to those torn panties. Namely covering them in her slick wetness that demanded to be used. “Go on…” she whimpered, hands splaying across his shoulders before feeling his chest through his silk shirt. Fingers played with glass buttons. “Do it.”
“Say you want it, and then shut the fuck up.”
Well!
“I want it.” Three words that hadn’t meant so much before. She clawed his shirt, tearing apart the buttons and feeling the warm flesh beneath. “I want it!”
Then she needed to shut the fuck up.
Not that she could get any words out thereafter. Vincent slammed her again, harder, pushing her body up the wall as he undressed her in one tear of the hand. The sashes covering her breasts gave way. The zipper in the back of the skirt fell down. Gasping, Nala felt every bit of her skin be exposed in front of this man, whether he could see a patch or not. In those shadows? He probably couldn’t see anything but the dark of her thick, straight hair and her darker nipples protruding in the air. Ohmyholyshit. His mouth was on her, sucking her throat; his tongue tasted her, flicking against her nipple. Nala moaned, as if this were her lot in life, and let herself be carried away by the current Vincent Lane brought to sweep her up into his arms.
“Don’t say a word,” he reiterated, one hand fumbling with his zipper while the other held her up by the ass. “If you say anything, even my name, I’ll stop and leave you here to suffer with this wet cunt.”
Like fuck she was going to say anything in response!
“That’s it.” The more he spoke, the raspier his words became. Was there smoke in the corner? Nala couldn’t smell it. All she smelled was that insane cologne making her lustier. O
h, fuck me. Her spread legs wrapped tight around Vincent’s waist. The position made her open up, wetness dribbling from her body, down the underside of her thigh, and touching the crease of her ass. I’m so fucking wet. Wetter than she was in the shower with her comparably tame fantasy. “Take me, Nala.”
When she thought there was nothing to take yet, she felt it – the head of his cock, attempting to push into her wetness.
She bit back a cry as she braced herself, fingers digging into his back as she fought to both open her legs wider and to enclose them around his waist. Either he was big, or she was tighter than she gave herself credit for – maybe both. He’s definitely bigger than my ex. Was that guy average? Who cared? Oh, shit, he was in, in, in, his tip entering her before he pulled out and went for it again.
This time she could not stay quiet. Nala could forbid coherent words, but she couldn’t be completely silent. Vincent’s cock ruptured her, forcing its way in, down deep, far back, out again, in, out, in outinoutinoutin…
“Ohhh,” she moaned, the pain nearly unbearable at times. So long since a man had last been in her. Was she prepared at all? Not like this. Not for a man Vincent’s size and determination. Nala felt so tiny compared to him, a giant, a monster, an incubus making her forget all her pain with a new pain of his own.
“You’re so God damned tight,” he growled, stilling his cock inside her as his fingers wrapped beneath her thighs and attempted to pull her cunt wider. Nala slammed her eyes shut, feeling him inch in a little more, past a part of her that had lost its wetness. Too rough! She didn’t say anything that would make him stop. For all the discomfort, for all the pain, the thrill was still too real. Nala did not want to let it go.
Finally, a bright light flashed before her eyes – he was in. Deep, hard, most definitely in.
However, she could not relax her hold on him, nor could he release his strength binding her to the corner of two unsuspecting walls. Because now he had to fuck her.