by M. S. Parker
His tongue plundered my mouth, and his hands dug into my hips, pulling me so tightly against him that I could feel the ridge of his cock pressing against my stomach through his zipper. I pushed up on my toes, desperate to feel that pressure and friction against the place I needed it the most. He groaned as I nipped his bottom lip, then soothed the sting with my tongue.
"I couldn't stop thinking about you," he confessed as he broke the kiss. He rested his forehead against mine, his grip tightening as if he was afraid I'd walk away.
Not that there was a chance in hell of that happening. I was in too fucking deep.
"What were you thinking?" I whispered the question because I didn't trust my voice not to shake. Knowing that he'd been thinking about me, maybe even when he'd been opening up to me about his past, gave me hope, however tenuous, that he might not be disappointed when he saw who I was.
His fingers flexed, as if he wasn't quite as tightly contained as he seemed. "So many things."
I shivered at the dark promise in those words. I might have been a bit nervous at all the possibilities, but fear was definitely not one of the emotions I was feeling at the moment. Knowing that he was Jace made me trust him more, not less.
"Tell me." I supposed it could have seemed like a demand – which even I knew was a no-no for someone in a submissive position – but it sounded more like a plea. Which, I guessed, in a way it was. If this was going to be our final time together, I wanted to know as much about him as possible.
"You're new to this," he said, "I don't want to frighten you."
I closed my eyes as another shiver went through me, this one of anticipation. "I want to know. Please." His name was on the tip of my tongue and it took everything I had not to call him by it. "What have you been thinking about me?"
"How much I want to push you," he finally confessed. "How I want to learn your limits, and then take you places that you've never thought possible. I want to test your pain threshold by showing you just how good it can be to hurt, how pain can make pleasure so much more exquisite, more intense."
I silently swore. I told myself that I would be okay if this was it, if we ended here, but listening to him talk, my nipples were already hard, my pussy throbbing and wet. How could I give this up? How could I walk away and never feel this way again?
Still, I couldn't even begin to imagine what it would be like if we went past tonight. How could a person survive something like what he described? Survive that kind of intensity? I'd burst into flames if I was subjected to this daily.
But what a way to go.
"I thought about all the ways I could make you scream again," he continued, his voice rough. "How beautiful your skin would look with red stripes from a flogger. The sounds you would make when I put clamps on your nipples. And then the even hotter ones when I removed them. The way you would curse and writhe, tugging on restraints while I took you to the edge over and over again, but never quite let you get there."
I'd spent too much time trying to argue with myself about the things I secretly wanted for years. I wasn't a virgin, and I wasn't a prude, but I'd always kept this part of myself under tight wraps. Now, he set it out there in a way I knew was meant to run me off. Instead, it drew me to him, knowing that the things he wanted to do to me fit with what I wanted done. Unlike previous lovers, he wouldn't balk at the experiences I wanted to try. If anything, he would want more.
If he decided he was willing to try for more than just tonight.
"Choose," I said quietly. "Choose what you want for tonight."
He stiffened, then pulled back enough so that his eyes could meet mine. For one heart-stopping second, I thought he recognized me, then he spoke, and I knew my identity was still a secret.
"I'll only ask this once, and after that, you'll have to use the safe words to stop me." His thumbs made circles on my hips, as if he was already imagining his answer to my quasi-demand. "Are you sure you want this?"
I didn't even hesitate. "Yes." Then, unable to stop with a simple one-word answer, I added, "How do you want me?"
Fourteen
Jace
How in the hell was I supposed to answer that question?
A stranger shouldn't be able to get under my skin like this. Then again, I wasn't supposed to want a novice this badly. I shouldn't have spent so many hours thinking of all the things I wanted to introduce her to...or thinking of how I wanted to dismember any other man who would dare to take my place when I stepped aside. Because I had no doubt there would be many of them lining up to train her to be their perfect sub.
Just like I had no doubt that I was rapidly becoming addicted to this woman and that was a dangerous thing.
But it wasn't enough to stop me from lowering my head to kiss her again, to taste her.
I began to strip away her clothes as my tongue slid across hers. I needed to have my hands on her impossibly soft skin, feel her shudder under my touch. And I wanted to see all of her, savor every moment.
I still didn't know what I was going to do afterwards, if I would remove my mask and reveal my identity, but I knew I wanted tonight to leave an impression that made all past and future lovers insignificant. That would make it so that she would never, could never, forget me.
She moaned as I lowered her to the bed, my thigh pressing against the wet silk between her legs. Damn. I'd known women who'd gotten turned on easily, but nothing like this.
"I'm going to tie you up," I informed her as I reluctantly straightened. Part of me wanted nothing more than to bury myself inside her right now, but I knew waiting would make it all the sweeter. "And then, I'm going to see how many times I can get you close to the edge before you beg me to let you come."
Her breathing hitched, her small, perfect breasts straining against the sheer, pale lace of her bra. I could see the dusky peach color of her nipples and my mouth watered. I would wait though, to find out what it was like to taste her. I'd taken her too fast before, hadn't taken the time to savor her.
I intended to remedy that mistake.
The moment she nodded, I picked her up and carried her over to the bed. We could have just walked, but I needed my hands on her. Before I lowered her on to the mattress, I bent my head to brush my lips across hers. It was the most chaste of our kisses, but it still sent an electric tingle through me.
Damn.
I was glad I'd decided to tie her up, because I needed a few minutes to regain my self-control. That, I thought, was part of the draw. I loved being in charge, but recently, much of the thrill had waned. It wasn't until I met her that I realized part of the problem was that most of the challenge was gone. I still enjoyed the BDSM side of things, and the sex itself, but nothing much beyond the physical. The women I fucked were beautiful in a variety of ways, but there was no seduction, nothing...special.
This woman though. Something about her drew me, made me want her like I hadn't wanted anything in a long time. One time hadn't been enough, and as I finished fastening the last restraint, I wondered if this time would satisfy that need inside me.
I wasn't going to think about that now. Not when I had a beautiful, half-clothed woman tied up and waiting for me to make good on my promise to show her just how close to the edge I could push her.
Her eyes were wide as I looked down at her, but there was no sign of fear in those pale depths, only trust and desire. I ran my fingers up her calf and over her knees as I knelt between her spread legs. As I reached her thighs and hips, I spread my hands out so that my whole hand moved across her ribs, and then up to cup her breasts, before moving back down again.
"Yes," she breathed as I stroked her soft skin, as my thumbs and fingers found her pebbled nipples.
As I teased her sensitive flesh, I watched her face and found that I wished I could see more of her, that I could see every bit of her expression as I brought her pleasure, that I would know exactly what she looked like when she came.
I hooked my fingers in the cups of her bra and pulled them down. Fuck. She had the most
gorgeous breasts. I couldn't resist lowering my head and flicking my tongue across the tips of her nipples. She swore, a shiver running through her, and then swore again as I circled the darker flesh with the tip of my tongue.
I pulled my shirt over my head and tossed it to the side, then stripped off my pants. My erection was tenting out the front of my boxer briefs, and when her tongue darted out to run along her slightly swollen lips, I almost came right then.
For a moment, I wasn't sure whose control was being tested.
Then I had my mouth on the underside of her breast, sucking hard enough to leave a mark before moving up to her nipple. She began to gasp and twist as best she could, but the only sounds were ones of pure pleasure, so I kept going, working teeth and tongue and lips until I could feel her pulling on her restraints.
I raised my head and seriously considered ripping off both of our masks right then and there. My lovely sub was so close, I could see it in her eyes. I locked her gaze with mine, then pressed my knee between her legs. Her panties were soaked as I leaned into her, letting my leg put the right amount of pressure against the places she needed it the most.
"Fuck." Her eyes rolled back even as her hips began to move against me.
I let her have a couple moments working herself against my knee, and I enjoyed watching every one of them before I backed off. She made a sound of protest that almost had me giving in, but I knew it'd be worth it to follow through.
"I've got you, gorgeous," I said as I stretched out between her legs. "But it's not time to come yet."
"Please," she begged.
I turned my head and pressed my lips high on her inner thigh, sucking the sweet smelling skin into my mouth. After I marked her, I turned my attention to the place I'd been dreaming about from the first moment I saw her. After teasing her through the thin fabric of her panties for a few seconds, I pulled on them until they gave with a loud tearing sound. Then I buried my face between her legs and drove her to the edge.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Until I was the one who couldn't take it anymore, and I let her tip over into a screaming orgasm that made me grateful the room was soundproofed.
Then I was inside her again and it was like everything good I'd ever known in my life rolled together into this time, this place, with this person.
And I wasn't sure I could let her go.
I should have been relaxed, sated, after what we'd just done, but as I watched her dress, my stomach began to twist. Not because of what we'd done, but because this was it, the moment where I had to decide what I wanted. The two of us could go our separate ways, maybe hook up again once or twice more in the future without ever knowing who the other person was. Or, we could remove our masks, exchange names, and find out if this was something we wanted to explore.
I couldn't deny that I found some liberty in the fact that she didn't know who I was, that while she might guess that I had money, it couldn't have been a true deciding factor in her choosing me that first night. But as soon as I said I wanted us to take off our masks, everything would change.
And none of that was enough to keep me from wanting to see her face, from knowing who she was. I didn't know if the connection between us would last without the mystery, but I wanted to try.
"If you're still interested, I'd like to know who you are." The words sounded casual enough, but I wasn't sure she bought it. My own heart was pounding so hard in my chest that I was certain she'd be able to hear it.
I'd never thought of myself as a shallow person, and my biggest fear at this moment was that seeing her would prove me wrong. I'd never be able to live with myself if she showed me who she was and my attraction to her disappeared when I saw her face. Personality conflicts and that sort of thing would be understandable, but if I didn't find her attractive and I didn't want to be with her because of that, I'd hate myself.
She straightened, hands trembling as she smoothed down her dress. That gesture alone was enough to heighten my anxiety, but I reminded myself that she didn't know who I was, so she was probably just as nervous as I was about the whole situation. Her gaze flicked to my face and then away again.
"I'd like that." Her voice was soft, but no less determined. "Are you sure?"
I almost frowned at the question, wondering what had prompted it, but I was more interested in learning her identity than I was in chasing a question. I knew if I started digging at her intentions like I had everyone else in the past, I'd talk myself out of something that could end up being the best part of my life.
As an answer, I reached up and pulled off my mask. I waited for a response for a split second before realizing she was taking off her mask as well. Very slowly, it lowered, revealing large eyes...nose...lips...chin.
It was her.
I swore, vilely and loudly.
How in the hell had I not known I'd been fucking Savannah Birch?
In the next moment, I realized that she wasn't freaking out. If anything, the look on her face was slightly sheepish.
"You knew." I didn't make it a question because I didn't need to. It was written right there on her expression. "You knew it was me." It sounded like an accusation this time.
She nodded and licked her lips. "Not the first time. When I walked into your studio the other day and you weren't wearing a shirt." Her cheeks grew pink. "I recognized your tattoos."
My stomach churned, bile rising up in my throat. "Tonight?"
Her face grew more red. "That's why I suggested we take the masks off."
"And when I said I wanted to wait, why didn't you stop me?" I curled my hands into fists. "You should have told me before we..." I ran my hand through my hair. "Shit, Savannah. This...we...damn it all."
"I wanted..."
She didn't finish the sentence even as her face turned impossibly red, but I didn't need her to say what it was she wanted. I had a pretty good idea, because I'd wanted it too. And that just pissed me off even more.
"You should have told me." My voice was harsh enough to make her eyes widen in surprise, but I didn't let that affect me. "The moment you realized who I was. And how the hell did you get in to Gilded Cage in the first place?" I shook my head and held up my hands. "Never mind, I don't want to know. It doesn't matter anyway. We fucked. That's it. And if a single word of it makes its way into your article, or any form of media for that matter, I'll take legal action."
She stared at me for a few seconds, and I waited to see if she'd try seduction or crying, since those were pretty much the only two weapons I'd ever seen a woman wield. She didn't do either.
"Fuck you." The words came out flat and cold, with a hint of disappointment in them. "No wonder you're so alone and miserable. Don't worry, Mr. Randall, your secrets are safe. I don't want anyone knowing I fucked such a bastard."
As she turned and walked away, a seed of doubt perked up its head, and I began to wonder if I'd made a mistake, if maybe she was better than the women I'd known in the past. Better than I'd ever expected any woman to be.
Not that it mattered now. Even if I was wrong, I'd still completely fucked up any chance I ever had with her.
Fifteen
Savannah
I was still reeling as I made my way through the club. I wanted to run, to get away from this place – and Jace – as quickly as I could. Not because I thought I was going to cry, but because the combination of anger and embarrassment coursing through me made me want to hit something or someone, and I doubted giving Jace Randall a black eye would do anything positive for my career.
I considered throwing my mask onto the bar as I passed, but I didn't want to run the risk of someone I knew spotting me and asking awkward questions. No matter how much I enjoyed sex with Jace, or how much I'd learned about my own sexual desires during those two encounters, I didn't want anything to remind me of what happened. Maybe I'd explore this part of my sexuality again at some point in the future, but for right now, I planned to stay as far away from men as possible.
In fact, I was going to spend the weekend finishing up everything in my article except the critique of the art itself. Once that was done, I'd forget about Jace until next month when I'd see his show. Since I'd have everything else done, I wouldn't even need to talk to him that night.
And that would be for the best.
This was the first time – and would be the last – that I compromised my journalistic integrity. If I ever found myself attracted to a subject again, I'd have this moment to remind me just what a horrible idea that was.
The mask came off as soon as I'd moved a few yards from Gilded Cage, so all I got from the cab driver was an appreciative look. I stared out the window as the city went by, trying not to think about anything, especially not the fact that I wasn't wearing any underwear because Jace had literally torn them off of me. My pussy and nipples were throbbing from the attention he'd paid them, my skin still tingling from his touch. Every cell in my body was screaming for me to go back and beg him to take me again.
"No way in hell," I muttered. I'd pushed down my pride once to sleep with him in the hopes that maybe he'd want more than a couple anonymous encounters. I wasn't fool enough to make that mistake twice.
By the time I reached my apartment, I was exhausted. All I wanted to do was take a hot shower and go to bed. Fortunately, Everett was still out, so I was able to settle into my bed before he got home. Sleep wasn't so easy in coming, especially after I heard Everett and Cal trying to be quiet as they went to Everett's room. The intimate hushed laughter made my heart twist painfully, and I swore to myself that I was going to focus on work from now on. No more hot, kinky sex with masked strangers.