by Amy Valenti
I never wanted to see Alex in that position. It was too personal, too much like replacing the submissive I’d lost. But I ached to see her on her knees for me. Maybe I’d bind her hands behind her back and order her to suck my cock. She’d relish the challenge of that, I already knew. She was a determined one, more determined than Kristin had been.
That thought made me pause. For the first time in a long while, I’d found something about Kristin’s memory that was less than nostalgic and perfect. She always had given up a little too easily, waited for me to acquiesce or used her slow word to manipulate me. Sometimes I’d let her get away with it, overcome with lust and unable to restrain myself from taking her any longer. Sometimes I’d disciplined her, though she’d never seemed to learn from those punishments.
Now I was wondering how Alex would respond to my correction, as a submissive receiving her Dom’s criticism. I’d fallen too far back into my old patterns of thinking, far too fast.
I put Kristin’s picture back into the drawer and left the bedroom, which still carried a faint trace of Alex’s scent.
I had to start thinking vanilla. We were going out to dinner tonight. How had I done things before I got into the BDSM lifestyle? Things had always seemed a little forced and uncomfortable in formal date situations. Now, if I could make Alex slip a remote-controlled vibrator into her cunt halfway through the meal and set it off at random intervals, right up until she was begging to skip dessert and go home…
Stop, stop, stop. I groaned and rested my forehead on the living room window pane. A light rain was beginning to fall.
Romance on a vanilla level. How did that work, again?
Fuck it. I’d text her and suggest takeout instead. At least if I was at her place, and her roommate was around, it would make me show a little restraint.
* * * *
Alex
I hadn’t put a huge amount of thought into my outfit, since I’d suggested we check out one of the new bistros off the beaten track and the dress code was pretty casual. So when Spencer suggested we stay in and do takeout instead, I was happy to agree. All that sitting across from each other in public, making forced conversation, could get a little awkward anyway.
He showed up at my door in jeans and a button-down shirt—the first time I’d seen him out of his gym workout gear. “Wow, Mr. Hyde, you scrub up pretty well. I didn’t know you owned anything but sweatpants.”
He looked me over with a slow, hungry gaze. “You don’t look half bad yourself.”
I glanced down with only a hint of the insecurity I’d usually be feeling. After he’d seen me at the gym, all mussed and sweaty, anything else was a step up. “Thanks.”
He kissed me as if he couldn’t resist, just for a moment. Then again, his lips lingering, teasing mine apart to make way for his tongue.
I drank in his kisses as though they were the first we’d ever shared, but damn it, wasn’t tonight meant to be about getting to know each other? And eating?
Mmm, he was good at eating certain things…
Exasperated with myself, I pushed him slightly away. “As much as I want to drag you to my bed, I’m sort of hungry.”
He gave me one final peck on the lips, as though memorising my taste for the minutes we’d be spending not melded together. “I can wait. I think.”
I showed him into the living room, which had been a complete wreck until I’d motivated myself to tidy it earlier in the day. Tobias and I usually kept our takeout menus in a kitchen drawer, but I’d stacked them on the coffee table. Did anyone in LA actually cook their own meals? I sure didn’t. If it wasn’t diner food, it was takeout.
We decided on Thai food and ordered. Then came a moment of awkward silence, which he defused with a soft laugh. “It’s been a while since I did this kind of thing, so I’m a little rusty.”
“I’m sort of tempted to just climb into your lap, but being interrupted by the food would be kind of a mood-killer.” I sat down beside him, close enough to touch but out of temptation’s way.
The heat in his eyes said he was considering dragging me onto his lap anyway, but for whatever reason, he refrained from doing it as well. “Your friend around?”
I shook my head. “Nope. He has a date tonight and he doesn’t usually bring them back here. He can be kind of loud in bed and with me usually needing to be up early…it’s a thing we’ve fallen into.”
He nodded, shifting a little on the couch. It probably hadn’t been the kindest thing to do—mention sex when he’d asked a question to avoid thinking about sex. And seeing him turned on was making me horny as well.
“Oh, screw it. We can talk when the food gets here.” I launched myself at him, and he caught me easily, his lips crushing mine as he drew me down into his lap. I moaned softly as we rocked together, his hard cock against my clit through layers of clothing. I broke the kiss to catch my breath, and he nuzzled and nipped his way down my throat as though unwilling to keep his lips from my flesh for more than a split second. That was unquestionably, unbelievably hot.
“I missed you earlier.”
Shit, had I really just said that? Way to cling, Alex.
Spencer didn’t seem put off—in fact, his arms tightened around me just a fraction. But I sought to find a way to diffuse the potential awkwardness anyway.
“I was thinking earlier that I haven’t had a chance to give you head yet…”
He groaned and thrust up against me, breaking off from trailing kisses over my cleavage to look up at me ravenously. I shivered. That look had such an effect on me—it was crazy.
“You enjoy sucking cock?” he asked, teasing my nipple through my shirt.
“Depends on the guy. But I get the feeling I’d really, really enjoy sucking yours.”
He continued to grind up against me, slow simulated thrusts that made my breath catch. “And when were you thinking might be a good time to try that?”
I laughed and slid down to the floor at his feet, looking up at him as I rubbed my hand over his erection. “I’m pretty sure you already know the answer to that question.”
“Do it,” he ordered, reaching out to grab a fistful of my hair and pulling my face closer to his zipper. Startled by the sudden forcefulness, I stared up at him for a moment. He gazed back, a command in his eyes, and I shivered with lust once again. Just as I was about to unzip his fly, he released my hair and trailed his hand down my face, softening the moment. “Please.”
Something in his face was just heart-breaking, vulnerable. My chest ached with an urge to soothe whatever was wrong, to bring him back from that strange, sorrowful place he’d just been to.
“Okay,” I whispered, and busied myself freeing his erection from his jeans.
God, this close up he was almost intimidatingly well-endowed, but I could work with that. Kisses and licks up and down his shaft made him sigh and close his eyes. When I finally closed my fist around his cock and stroked upward, he gritted his teeth to restrain an appreciative noise.
“Let me hear you,” I murmured, and took his cock in my mouth, licking the spot at the underside of the head to give him pleasure.
He did moan, then, and rested his hand on top of my head again. Part of me wanted him to grab my hair the way he had before, to force me down farther, to make me dedicate myself more fully to the task of getting him off. But he didn’t, just watched me with lust hazing his expression, and let me set my own pace.
I took him in as far as I could before withdrawing slowly with as much suction as I could, and he let his head fall back against the back of the couch, his eyes closing. “God, that feels good.”
I hummed my response and got serious, using my hand and mouth in tandem to bring him to the edge. Every time I glanced up into his face, he was watching me, his expression hungry. Sometimes he suppressed his sounds of pleasure; sometimes he let them out when I flicked my tongue just right. At one point he tightened his hand in my hair again and I moaned around his hard flesh. A shudder ran through him as the vibrations of my voice
enhanced his experience.
“Fuck,” he murmured, bucking up into my mouth involuntarily before controlling himself. “Are you wet? Can you slide your hand into your panties and touch yourself while you suck me?”
My pussy tightened at the thought, dampening my panties with a new trickle of desire. God, how did he think of these things? No one had ever asked me to do that before. No one had ever cared about how I was feeling while I sucked them off. He was something else.
I slipped my fingers into my panties, dipping between my wet folds to coat my skin with my arousal. Hitting my clit made me gasp and tilt my hips forward, seeking more friction, and for a moment I faltered in my other task, distracted by my own desire. When he nudged the roof of my mouth with the head of his cock, though, I opened my eyes to see him amused and frustrated at the same time.
Hoping he could sense my apology, I returned to sucking him, licking him, moving one hand against my clit and my other up and down his shaft in the same quickening rhythm.
“You want to get off, don’t you?” he said, his voice gravelly with his own need. “Not before you’re done with me, pretty girl. You got that?”
I nodded quickly without breaking my rhythm, sliding my hand up and down, whimpering around his cock. Please, please, please… I didn’t even know what I was mentally begging for, just that I wanted something from him, something more than just his orgasm so I could take mine.
“Fuck, you’re gonna be the end of me.” He closed his eyes, his breathing ragged now. From the tension in his body I could tell he was close to coming, and redoubled my efforts, putting my own stimulation to the back burner while I focused on bringing him off.
“I’m gonna…” He made an effort to lift my head from his lap, but I shook him off with a slight smile and continued, watching the realisation dawn on his face that I planned to swallow. “God, Alex…”
He lost control, spurting into my mouth, glazed satisfaction crossing his face. He was so gorgeous like this, his guard down, his lips slightly parted as he breathed hard, trying to catch his breath through the waves of sensation.
I cleaned his cock with my tongue as he came back to his senses, so mesmerised by his reaction that I barely noticed my own desire had yet to be fulfilled.
Awareness returned to his expression as I sat back and wiped my mouth with my hand. “Still need to come, pretty girl?”
I glanced down at my hand, still buried beneath the waistband of my jeans. “Yup. Wanna help, or do you just want to watch the show?”
For a moment he just stared at me as though he couldn’t believe I’d offered to give him a show. Had his girlfriends in the past all been meek and embarrassed? Suppressing laughter, I wriggled out of my jeans and parted my legs to let him watch me. The dull tingle roared back into an inferno of need as I rubbed moisture over my exposed pussy, slipped my fingers inside myself to draw out more, coating my clit with my juices before beginning to play again.
He sat forward, tucking away his cock, and watched me intently, as though his life depended on what I’d do next. “Slower.”
He was directing me? Oh, God…
“You know, I haven’t actually been in a porn movie before, Mr. Director,” I teased him.
“If I see any acting, I’m gonna be seriously pissed off,” he returned with a mock scowl.
Acting? There was no way I needed to fake it with him. He brought me halfway to climax just by looking at me sometimes. I slowed down my movements, moaning when my pussy tightened with need at the decreased pace. “I need more.”
“I know you do,” he growled. “But you can wait a little longer.”
I cried out at the surge of heat his words brought. “God, no one has ever made me feel like this before.”
His jaw tightened, and for a second I thought I’d said something wrong, but he murmured, “A little faster now, but not as hard. Tease yourself for me.”
I did as he said, my internal muscles fluttering. My eyes slid closed, but he told me, “Look at me. Just at me, pretty girl.”
I trembled under his gaze, my breath fast and light, my hips rolling of their own accord. “I want you so much.”
“Harder. Faster. Give yourself what you need, and tell me when you’re nearly there.” His focus made my head spin. I moaned, rubbing my clit hard and fast, fingering myself with my other hand, staring into his eyes despite the urge to let all my senses turn inward.
His eyes glittered with approving, mischievous lust. “Are you close?”
My orgasm surged almost to breaking point, and I gasped, “I need to—”
“One second more,” he said, and I let out a high, keening noise I couldn’t remember ever making before, desperate for his permission.
“Please,” I gasped out, and he nodded, the non-verbal cue all I needed to tip me over the edge. Losing the battle to keep my eyes open, I lost myself in the surging tides of my climax, the knowledge that Spencer was watching me unspeakably hot. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…”
My world tilted and vaguely I realised that he’d grabbed me, pulled me back into his lap and enfolded me in his arms. I trembled against his chest, wondering why I felt so undone by things that had never seemed all that intense before. It was him; it had to be him.
“You make me feel so…”
The word eluded me so I trailed off, letting the slow stroke of his hand over my hair calm me through the aftershocks to a glow of contentment. When the doorbell rang, I tried to get up but my legs were still too unsteady.
“Stay here. I’ll go.” He lifted me out of his lap and placed me on the couch as though I were a china doll, fragile and precious. Then he strode out of the room before I could thank him for seeing to the food, leaving me to try to collect myself.
Spencer
I took the food from the delivery guy and tipped him probably twice what I should have, feeling shaken. I was losing ground fast. No matter how good my intentions were, I couldn’t stop myself from taking control of a scene—not a scene, not a fucking scene—and giving her orders. And Alex just fucking took it like she was meant to be my submissive. Like she was my second chance at the lifestyle.
A second chance I didn’t deserve, and didn’t dare take.
I leaned against the closed door for a few seconds, trying to regulate my breathing. It was likely Alex was still collecting herself, coming around from the intensity of the short scene.
Fuck, I might as well call it what it is.
Part of me wanted to call off whatever it was we had. Just tell her it was a mistake, that though our physical chemistry was amazing, I wasn’t in the right place for this shit right now.
The rest of me got hung up on the scent of her, the softness of her skin and pliancy of her body, the startled arousal in her eyes as I dragged her down to suck my cock by her fucking hair…
I was in too deep to extricate myself. I needed to see if the scary compatibility between us extended beyond just the pleasures of the flesh. If it didn’t…maybe we could keep this casual, come to some kind of fuck-buddy arrangement.
If it ran deeper than that, though…
Get her away from you.
“Spencer? You okay?” Alex’s voice was quizzical.
I steeled myself and walked back into the living room, where she was still curled up on the couch. “You hungry?”
“Mmm—worked up an appetite.” She reached for the takeout I was holding and began to sort through the various containers, separating my food from hers.
I sat beside her, keeping close enough that she felt she could reach out to me if she needed to, but far enough away that she wouldn’t be a constant temptation.
“So what’s next for you? Now that you’re done with the horror movie?”
Alex popped open a container and picked up her chopsticks. “Aside from trying not to go crazy with apprehension about Walk on Glass? Nothing much. I’m reading through a few scripts, seeing if anything catches my eye. Other than that, my only work is working with you, so my agent is throwing a
fit. But let’s not talk shop tonight.”
The food was good, and as we ate she asked me questions, as though hungry to know more about me. I answered laconically. I’d never been comfortable talking much about myself, but if I sidestepped a question she pouted, and I was powerless to resist that expression. Either I answered her questions, or I’d throw the food aside and bite that pouting lower lip until she gasped into my mouth.
“So how do you know Callum?” she asked after a while.
That, I really didn’t want to talk about. I didn’t know what Callum might have told her, and the truth was a part of my life I wasn’t about to reveal to her more than I already had. “Mutual friends introduced us.”
It wasn’t a lie, not really. I was just omitting the part where the mutual friends were regulars of the local fetish club I’d already been a member for years when Callum had walked in, a fresh-faced newbie eager to learn. Scene One ran training sessions for new Dominants, and I’d volunteered to be one of the more experienced instructors. We’d hit it off from there.
“I guess that’s the movie business,” Alex said, then took a sip from her glass. There was a question in her eyes that told me she wasn’t done interrogating me, and after she’d swallowed her water, she asked, “So how did you get involved with movies? I mean, personal trainer to the stars is one thing, but fight coordinator? That’s a totally different area.”
On comfortable ground again, I gave her a brief run-down. “I was a stuntman back in the day, then a stunt coordinator when things started going digital. Health and safety concerns make it way less of a hassle to use computers for some stunts than real people, so as that side of the business declined I expanded in other areas, got the gym for personal training and martial arts instruction. I go back to movie sets here and there, but that part of my job isn’t as pressing these days.”
She nodded thoughtfully. “I didn’t think about that. The digital stunt thing. Must have been tough when you started losing work.”