by Cynthia Dane
“Sure, sir.”
Definitely what I like to hear.
We walk, my arm around her waist. I hail one of the employees and ask for a key to a private room. They’re almost filled up, and as we go down the back hallway I hear one woman crying out in such pleasure that Stephanie delightfully shivers in my grip.
The moment I close the door to our room behind us, I have her against the wall, my mouth on her throat and my cock begging to drive into her pussy.
“I’m on the pill, sir,” she tells me, enjoying the bit of role play. “Please go for it.”
I slowly undress her, running my tongue over her round breasts and inhaling the scent of her arousal as it emanates from her bare thighs. “You need to beg better than that, Precious,” I tell her. I turn her around, pressing her against the wall as I rip off her dress and squeeze her firm ass. “I’m gonna fuck you full right now. And then we’ll play.”
She’s shuddering, nipples brushing against the wall and wetness running down her thigh. I don’t need a condom. We’re both clean and I believe her when she says she’s on the pill. She’s a hot actress of the moment. No way she’s risking getting pregnant – but that doesn’t mean she’s not indulging in a hot fetish.
Stephanie moans, shrinking before me as she begins to fulfill the role of a good sub. Her ass is hard against my cock as I slip it between her folds. She’s hot, wet, and so damned tight at this angle that it takes two attempts to find her depths.
I’m ready to disappear into bliss. And I do, my nose burying in that pretty blond hair. As I growl against her throat and thrust into her from behind, I think…
I think back to that woman watching me from her balcony, irate, but turned on.
Kathryn Alison, I don’t know why you’re in my head right now, but I’ll take it. I’ll think about you while I fuck this starlet’s pussy. I’ll think of your flustered, flushed face as my cock empties into another woman, making her shriek against the wall as her tight pussy opens up to take everything I’m offering her.
After all, I’m fantasizing that you’re in this room, watching. I don’t know why, but I am.
Chapter 5
KATHRYN
“Look what I got you!”
Eva returns with Mr. Handsome trailing behind her. He may be a sub, but he’s still male, and the arrogance is radiating like never before. This man knows his worth. I like that.
“I told him that there’s a hot Domme looking for some tender cock.” Eva flops back into her seat, kicking up her feet on the table while Mr. Handsome gets on his knees and looks up at me adoringly. I like what I see now that we’re this close. Boy has got some hard muscles. I put one hand on his shoulder and leer into those baby blues. He’s still smiling. “Also, I checked it out. Should be big enough for someone with your tastes.”
“Thanks.” I don’t want to know how Eva knows. She may be gay, but she’s not against cupping a guy’s balls and either laughing or calling him a stud right in front of me. “So what’s your name?” I ask the sub.
“Please call me Fox, Mistress.”
“Now that can’t be your real name.” Yes, I’ve seen the X-Files. Yes, this guy is young enough that his parents could’ve been big fans and made an unfortunate name choice. I still don’t believe it. “And I don’t give a fuck what your name is. You looking for someone to control you tonight, Fox?”
His smile is both reverent and full of itself. “My wish is for whatever Mistress is giving.”
“Yeah, well, Mistress would really like someone to shut up and do what he’s told.”
Eva raises her eyebrows at me. Fox bows his head and rests his head against my knee.
Oh, bother. Well, whatever. I can work with this.
“Catch you later. I’ll text when I’m done with this one.” I wave at Eva as I take this guy by the collar and yank him toward the private rooms. I don’t have any time to waste.
I need to purge my mind.
From today, from what I saw five minutes ago when I looked down and saw Ian Mathers getting his cock polished by some woman I’m gonna see in the theaters next summer.
Could’ve lived my whole life without seeing that. Just because I know what Ian gets up to with all these hot women, doesn’t mean I wanna see it for myself. Even if he is hot. Even if that controlled look on his face as he caught my gaze said that he didn’t give a fuck, and not giving a fuck is hot in itself.
Look, I know that I’m in a sex club. I’m gonna see people I know from around the rich neighborhood engaging in all sorts of sex acts. Can’t be helped. How the world works, etc. I don’t do anything in public, but Ian does. When he walked through those doors, I ran the risk of seeing something like that.
I’m unnerved that he looked back at me for that long. It wasn’t menacing. In fact, he looked amused by the situation. Like we… shared a moment. Like we were Lana and Ken Andrews fooling around with their mistress.
That must be why I flipped him off and made him get up and leave with his date.
“Heel,” I say, yanking on Fox’s head. He gets up and follows me down the stairs and into the main gallery, where drunken rich people are setting up hookups or already making out. Gwen is on stage having her pussy pleasured by her boyfriend, but James is sending out an open call for a “lucky lady” to come up and give Gwen oral until she comes. This party is heating up, and Fox and I need to get a room before they’re all booked.
I’m told that there is one left. #5, in the middle of the hall. Fox and I go in. As I close and latch the door, I tell him to undress and grab a free condom. This is gonna be quick and dirty, which is pretty much how I feel right now.
“Touch yourself. Get hard. Jerk off for me, Fox.”
I lean up against the wall, arms crossed and only half interested in my sub of the night reclining on the silk-clad mattress, his pants coming off and his half-erect cock saying hello. Sheesh, Eva wasn’t kidding. Man was keeping an anaconda in his pants.
Good.
Fox is an experienced sub. Experienced enough to know that jerking off is a show for me, his Domme. I hold my martini up and drink the last of it as I watch him grab his cock and start pleasuring himself.
I’m trying to focus on that. I’m trying to imagine myself taking off my clothes, riding his face until I’m wet enough to fuck him. Then I’m gonna hop on his dick, grab his chest, and tame that bronco until I come so hard that I forget everything that happened today. Considering how uptight I am right now, it’s taking me a bit to get into the fantasy, even with Fox letting out the hot moans that would normally turn me into a naughty Domme.
Not tonight. All I can concentrate on are the sounds coming from the other side of this wall.
There’s a woman losing her breath, her vigorous moans bouncing into the wall on the other side of me. She must only be five inches away, depending on how thick this wall is.
Not thick enough. These walls are supposed to be soundproofed, but I doubt they’re thicker than Fox’s dick.
I don’t mind having a woman’s sex moans as ambiance. Rather hear a woman have a good time than a guy doing something that turns me off.
Her panting increases. Pretty soon, words tumble with her breaths.
“Ian…” Oh, fuck me. “Ian!”
Are you kidding me?
What are the odds that I’m leaning up against the same wall that Ian Mathers is currently slamming some other woman against? What are the damned odds? Since, you know, what I could really use right now is listening to this happen. After seeing him get a blowjob. After what happened today.
After what happened over a decade ago.
“Come on, sir.” Gag. Gag! “Fuck me, sir!”
I hear a smack. Based on Stephanie’s moans, I’m guessing she got spanked. Hard.
“Please, sir! Give it to me!”
I’m standing here, listening to this while some guy I barely know is naked in front of me and yanking on his cock until I tell him to sto
p. At this point I’m not going to. I’m too distracted. Stephanie May is begging for Ian to finish inside of her, and…
“Oh! Ohh!”
Stephanie isn’t the only one climaxing tonight. Suddenly Ian’s voice is there too.
“Fuck, Kathryn!”
I’m frozen against the wall. Stephanie’s moans subside. Grunts that I can only guess are Ian’s dissipate. It’s so quiet, I can’t even hear Fox groaning on the bed.
“Who the fuck is Kathryn?”
Me.
I’m Kathryn!
“I’m ready, Mistress.”
Fox’s voice has blown me back into reality. “Did I tell you to speak?” I snap at him.I’m shaken. Fox is staring at me. It’s silent on the other side of the wall.
Four people have been embarrassed.
I still can’t believe this is happening.
Ian Mathers.
Ian Mathers…
…Just said my name while having sex with a completely different woman.
“She’s nobody,” I can barely hear Ian say. “Forgive me. I don’t know what happened.”
Me neither. All I know is that I heard something that I should have never heard. And now I’m trapped between wanting to run and wanting to pound on the wall and tell Ian to… to… I dunno. What do you say to that?
I’m here, Ian. I’m over here. Come finish what you started all those years ago.
I tell Fox it’s not happening tonight. I grab my shit and leave The Dark Hour, praying that I don’t run into Ian out in the main gallery. Thank God I don’t. We’re already way too embarrassed. Again.
We bring that out in one another.
Chapter 6
IAN
I’ve done fuck all with my weekend, even though I had a pile of work I was supposed to look through. Not to mention the friend I was supposed to meet today for lunch.
Instead, I’m at my mom’s house, sitting at a chess table with my black pieces half-slaughtered and my mother’s white ones preening around the board as if it’s nothing to them.
“You’re awfully quiet.” My mother’s fingers touch a rook, but she quickly changes course by moving her bishop three spaces. She’s set herself up to go after my last remaining knight, but if I move it out of the way, I expose my queen.
“I’m concentrating.” I fold my hands and consider the board. Nothing looks viable.
Normally my mother and I are equal opponents in a game of chess. She’s the one who taught me when I was a kid. I can still remember that summer before fourth grade when she was stuck in the house with a broken ankle. Most women with servants to keep a home clean and the family fed would spend their time reading, watching TV, or surfing the internet. Not my mother. She pulled me into the study and enthralled me with chess until I could beat her at her own game.
Today? I’m shit. My mind is way too preoccupied.
You know with what.
It’s been two days since I committed one of the biggest sexual faux pas known to man. There I was, cock-deep in a gorgeous woman. Not any gorgeous woman. A hot actress that any man would kill to be connected with. And what did I do? Call her the wrong name when I shot my load.
Suffice to say, Stephanie was not impressed. I haven’t heard from her since.
“Even for chess you’re awfully quiet.” My mother taps her finger against her cheek while she waits for me to move. She’s not that much older than me, it feels like. Only twenty years. My mother and father were a classic story of a rich man screwing one of his secretaries until she stopped having a period. Nobody but my mother will openly admit to it being a shotgun wedding. Telling the world that I was born two months prematurely is better.
Don’t hold it against my mother, though. She’s smart and capable. Not only did she teach me chess, but she taught me almost everything I know. She taught me how to read, how to do basic math, and even how to change a tire and check oil – not that I ever do those things. She stayed married to my father for a whole twenty years. The length of time stipulated in the prenup that said she would be viable for half my father’s fortunes in a divorce. The man knew it was coming. Said he owed her that much for putting up with his ass for twenty years.
So now my mother is filthy rich. Most would have taken the money and ran, but after the divorce she stayed with my father’s company as a key investor. She’s almost as rich as him now.
“Let me guess… girl problems?”
Lots of guys are used to hearing their mothers say that. Except most guys don’t have Caroline Grant-Mathers for a mother. She doesn’t make a statement like that lightly. Not unless she’s totally sure what’s going on.
“I said I’m concentrating.” I’m always so full of shit around my mother. “I know how good you are at this game.”
“And I know how good you are. Your terrible playing speaks volumes right now.”
Not only does she end up taking my knight, but she’s got my king trapped in two different places. I’ve got one out, but she was probably banking on me being so scatterbrained today that I would never notice.
“You going to tell me what’s going on or not?”
I sigh. When my mother bites into something, she never lets go. Stubborn like that. Some would say I get it from her. “You’re absolutely convinced that a woman is involved…”
She looks at me with neither exasperation nor disbelief. My mother controls her emotions way too well. “It’s you, dear. Anything you don’t tell me I’ll find out from the papers. Can you blame me for rather hearing it from your lips? And the truth, at that?”
I have to come up with something to placate her. So I tell her about Friday’s meeting. My mother is tangentially involved in The Grand project. Putting up some of the funds we’re using to buy the property and do the renovations. Oh, and she recommended that design firm we’re working with.
“That’s highly unlike Kathryn.” My mother studies the board, but I can tell she’s thinking about something else. “Or any of the Alisons. They’re usually on top of things.” She shrugs. “I’m sure it was a fluke. Things will go swimmingly from here.”
My mother picks up her queen and decimates a pawn. A quick glance at the board tells me that she’s also set herself up to take another pawn. “You’re not the one who has to work with her,” I mumble.
“Hmm?” Those thin lips clad in thick, red lipstick intimidate me sometimes. My mother is the only woman who can legitimately make me shake in my boots. Probably because she’s the only one who knows me so damn well. “Do you have a problem with Kathryn? I wasn’t under the impression you two knew each other well.”
“We both went to the Winchester School.”
“You’re older than her.”
“We know each other well enough.”
“Well enough to have a problem?”
My mother is treading dangerous waters. I can hear the end of that sentence right now. “You don’t usually have a problem with women at work. What did you do to Kathryn?” I’m not sure how to tell my mom what’s “going on” with Kathryn. How we got to second base as teenagers before Caroline Grant-Mathers’s golden boy spilled the goods before sampling the main course. Or how I hooked up with a starlet two nights ago and called out Kathryn’s name.
“She brings out a side of me I’m not keen on.” The kind that majorly fucks up. Especially with his dick.
“You two butt heads because she’s a take-charge kind of woman.”
“I suppose you could say that.” Surely, that’s one way to put it. As long as she’s been in the kink scene, I’ve known about it. Doms are public, no matter how much they try to keep it private… and Kathryn doesn’t keep it private. She’s very open in those clubs when she’s got some guy by a leash and the balls. Hey, it doesn’t bother me any. The world needs more women in that role. I just, you know, have no particular interest in Dommes. For obvious reasons.
Look, I enjoy a show where a Mistress pleasurably tortures her male sub on st
age as much as the next person, but that’s a show. I’ve never harbored any fantasies about a woman doing to me what I do to women. Partly because Dommes are so… well, look at Kathryn.
They have a lot to prove.
“I spoke to your father yesterday and he says that you will be working on that presentation starting tomorrow. Putting aside everything else to secure the buy?”
“Dad will be watching over the holdings while I focus on this, yes.” Normally my father and I split up the responsibilities of the company, with my mother filling in where necessary. Yet as the only child it falls on me if I don’t want to see my family’s company go to hell when my parents are no longer here. It’s stressful, but I manage. Especially when I have such delightful ways to unwind at the end of the week.
“And I suppose Kathryn will be working with you.”
“Why would she?” I don’t need Kathryn to do anything. Well, besides show up with the right materials this time.
“I asked her to.”
I drop the pawn I’m holding in my hand. It rolls off the table and lands at my feet, but I’m delayed in bending down to pick it up. My mother never misses a thing.
“We’re counting on you two to make this happen. The Andrews are eager to sell, but it means nothing if we don’t play by their arbitrary rules.” My mother shrugs, nonchalantly, but I know not to mess with her. “If we’re going to get that hotel in a timely manner, then we need to wow the council. If you two are on the same page all the way, it will happen.” With finality, she slams her bishop onto a space. “Check mate.”
I sigh. Third time in a row my mom’s beaten me at this stupid game. I’m usually not this careless. I’m preoccupied.
My mother stands, picking up her empty glass of iced tea to take back to the kitchen. She has a maid, but the woman spends more time texting than cleaning because my mom does so much on her own. “Try to get along with her for more than a few minutes to make this happen, dear. Focus on being professional.”