One Night in Vegas

by Mari Carr, Red Phoenix, Angel Payne, Sierra Cartwright, Jenna Jacob, Victoria Blue

  In response, she stuck her ass out a little.

  He grabbed a fistful of material and yanked it up to her waist. “That’s it, push your butt out toward me even more. Give it to me for a spanking.”

  She didn’t hesitate. Instead, she eased herself toward the wall and thrust back, a woman desperate to receive what he was desperate to give.

  “Has it been a while?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  The words were garbled by her makeshift gag, but her response was not in doubt. “What do you want?”

  “Spank me, Sir.”

  Rather than delivering what she expected, he worked his hand between her legs to find her hot cunt.

  She moaned and let her forehead rest against the elegant wallpaper.

  He rubbed three fingers across her shaven pussy, using her dampness to prevent friction, then he stroked quicker and quicker, making her legs shake, driving her toward an orgasm before pulling his hand away.

  Then because she was so wet, he put one finger against her rear entrance. “Do you like it dirty?” he asked against her ear.

  “Yes.” She whimpered.

  He loved that she’d shown no hesitation when he’d bared her, toyed with her, pressed a finger to her anus.

  When he’d seen her at the play party, she’d seemed so much more restrained. Now he realized that was more a result of the man she’d been with than the fact that she was unwilling. “Whatever you want,” he promised. “Whatever it is. I’ll be sure you get.” He eased his finger into her a little.

  She inhaled and seemed to allow the wall to support more of her weight. So fucking hot.

  He pushed past her sphincter and breached her anally. It wasn’t as comfortable as if he’d used lube, he knew, but she didn’t protest.

  Cole worked his finger all the way in then brought his other hand around to play with her pussy for a couple of seconds. “I’m going to enjoy fucking you later, when your ass is so sore that the sheets hurt your skin.”

  While holding her still, he spanked her left ass cheek hard.

  She went rigid.

  “More than you expected?”

  “Yes, Sir.” Avery turned her head to the side, and he saw that her bright green eyes were wide, unblinking.

  “Less than you can take?”

  She squeezed her eyes closed and nodded.

  “Less than you hoped for?”

  He saw her fingers curl.

  “Yes, Sir,” she whispered around the lacy fabric.

  With his finger still in her ass, Cole spanked her again and again until she tapped her heels on the marble floor.

  She was getting hotter, wetter. And that was the time to stop, before she came, when she was frustrated, when she was his to command.

  Cole fisted her hair and pulled back her head, forcing her to look at him. “Any doubt who’s in charge, sub?”

  “You.” She whimpered. “Sir.”

  “Correct.” Cole slowly extracted his finger then flipped down her dress.

  While he washed his hands, he left her there, frowning but not questioning. At this point, he wouldn’t be surprised if she was pissed or puzzled. But one thing was certain, she knew he would control the scene, and she’d also know she was safe with him, even if that didn’t seem to be a rational thought. He’d read her responses, left her wanting.

  He dried his hands on one of the cotton towels then wadded it and tossed it in a wicker basket. “Put your thong in the inside pocket of my jacket.”

  She pushed away from the wall and faced him. He offered an arm for her to brace herself on while she rebalanced on the strappy fuck-me sandals.

  Slowly she pulled the fabric from her mouth. She feasted her gaze on his face, never severing eye contact as she pulled back his lapel and felt for the slit in the lining.

  A few seconds later, she tucked her underwear inside before allowing her palm to linger on his chest.

  “Bold move for a sub.” He captured her wrist.

  “Yes, Master Cole.”

  “And brave, looking me in the eye.”

  She didn’t take the hint to glance away.

  “Are you a brat?” He flattened his hand on hers. “With me, you don’t have to be. I told you I will ensure you get what you need. You can tell me. Talk to me.” Cole was tempted to rip off that damn mask. “Be real with me. Trust me to see to you.”

  “Thank you for the offer. I appreciate it.” Her cheeks were captivatingly pink. But she hesitated before going on. “And thank you for the spanking, Sir.”

  He sighed. One step at a time. “More to come.” He released his grip then straightened his cuff as she dropped her hand. “Shall we go back in?”

  “What?”

  “The food here—even banquet food—is five-star. You need energy for the night ahead.”

  “After what we just did?” She drew her eyebrows together. “You want to eat?”

  “Absolutely. I understand steak and lobster is on the menu.” He offered his arm.

  He watched the battle, the hesitation in her eyes. She wanted to protest, but she’d heard him, and she’d agreed to obey him.

  Even though she pursed her lips, she composed herself, then placed her hand on his arm as they left the restroom together.

  Chapter Three

  It was the longest, most nerve-wrecking meal of Avery’s life.

  She’d hit on Master Cole, and he’d humbled her in the family restroom, driving her to the edge, proving his dominance, leaving her panting for an orgasm.

  She’d expected him to take her up to his room, not back to the party.

  Sitting here, her pussy damp, her underwear in his jacket, was unbearably difficult.

  “Is your filet all right?” he asked, obviously observing her picking at it.

  “It’s wonderful.” The problem wasn’t with the steak, it was with the state of her mind, the fact that he demanded she be honest with him, and mostly because he didn’t seem to care about her turmoil.

  He indulged in half a glass of red wine but forbade her from having one.

  In a way it chafed. In another, it soothed. She reminded herself that she’d asked for this, yearned for it on so many levels. There were multiple paradoxes in a BDSM relationship, and she knew all of them were part of the reason she was addicted.

  At the end of the meal, the pastry chef and several helpers wheeled in a stunning cupcake assortment.

  The display resembled the staging that had been set up. Each cupcake was topped with a mask or feathers crafted from fondant. On the top tier was a cake fashioned to look like Miss Scarlet in a burlesque costume.

  She took to the stage for a few minutes to thank everyone for coming. “Please enjoy the music and dancing. And indulge in some free champagne, courtesy of Mr. Nyte.” She lifted an imaginary glass toward someone in the back of the room. “Thank you, darling!”

  By the time Avery looked, the doorway was vacant. If the mysterious hotel owner had been there at all, he wasn’t there now.

  She often wondered if he really existed.

  The musicians struck up again, and the waitstaff went to work, clearing plates and offering cupcakes.

  She wrinkled her nose when a chocolate one with mile-high frosting was offered to her.

  “She’ll take it,” Cole told the waiter, accepting the plate and a fork.

  “But—”

  “If you want it, eat it. Or have a bite.”

  She sighed, never taking her eyes off the confection. “It’s my weakness.”

  “We all have one.”

  “The calories in that thing,” she protested, looking at him.

  He had a wide, indulgent smile. “What about them?”

  “I need to lose a few pounds.”

  “Do you?”

  “I don’t?”

  “Only if you think so. I like spanking your delectable ass.”

  After another couple of glances between the cupcake and his approving steel-gray eyes, she picked up her fork.

  The
cupcake ATM in the hotel was wonderful, but this…?

  “I gather you like it?”

  “To die for.” She dabbed her mouth with a napkin. “Or certainly worth extra exercise for. I may have died and gone to heaven. Did I die and go to heaven?”

  “Not yet. But soon.”

  The reminder of what he had planned made her push the plate away. “How soon?”

  “Greed is my favorite trait in a sub.”

  After coffee, he stood and held her chair. “Shall we?”

  Nerves suddenly filled her.

  They found Miss Scarlet to say goodnight.

  “We’ll be here late. In case you want to come back down.” The charismatic older lady picked up a fan that was part of another person’s costume and made a show of waving it in front of herself.

  Cole held out a hand to indicate Avery should go ahead of him. “Did I understand that you have a room here?”

  “Even though I live in town, I splurged.” An evening at the Nyte was a treat. And with its spas, pool, workout room, and unbelievable food, it was a mini-vacation.

  “My room?” he suggested.

  “That’s fine, but I’d like to collect my purse, maybe freshen up a bit.”

  “Fine.”

  “I could come to your room in a few minutes, if you want to go on ahead, Sir.”

  “We’ll go together,” he replied.

  “Do you always get your way without arguing?”

  He cocked his head to one side.

  She exhaled. “That’s what I thought.”

  When they were in the elevator car alone, he faced her. “What’s on your limit list?”

  “Permanent markings.” Then she rethought. “Well, that would be negotiable with a long-term partner. Breaking the skin.”

  “Spankings are on the yes list.”

  “Yes, Sir.” She shifted her weight to her right foot.

  “Flogging?”

  “Yes.” The word emerged as a sigh.

  “Cane?”

  Avery grabbed the brass handrail for support. “That can fucking hurt. Sir.”

  “It can,” he agreed. “And for the right sub, it can be sublime.”

  At his words, longing unfurled through her. There was nothing she liked more than the exquisite dance of pain so rich it caused a flash of unbridled pleasure. In the wrong hands, the cane was a fucking miserable thing. But he was right. There had been one time when she’d found it sublime. “Yes, Sir.”

  “Is that a yes to the cane?”

  She licked her lips.

  “I’ll make you ask for it,” he promised her.

  Avery nearly melted at his feet, and she suspected he knew it.

  She looked away from him, lessening the influence he had over her.

  “Letting me know who you really are?”

  She sucked in a breath. “Master Cole, please…”

  “Why so secret?”

  She watched the numbers for the various floors fly past. “Can we have tonight?” Let me be bold, someone I’m not. Let me be the sub I dream of, one who isn’t locked into the belief that a Dom says and a sub does, one who isn’t afraid of shaking the dynamic. Let me admit to liking the cane. Tonight, just tonight, allow me be brave.

  The elevator glided to a stop.

  “Tonight,” he agreed. “Don’t count on anything more.”

  “Fair enough, Sir.” Her breath was shaky as she exhaled in gratitude.

  Aware of his gaze on her rear, she walked down the hallway to her room.

  Avery pressed her thumbprint to the scanner to open the door and wished she’d been a little less scattered before leaving. The bed was strewn with clothes, lingerie, purses she’d considered taking, even a new pair of shoes she’d purchased on a whim at one of the hotel’s numerous ground-floor shops.

  “Do you have any toys with you?”

  “An egg-type of vibrator. It has a remote control.” The expensive Swedish thing had cost a small fortune, and it had been worth every penny. It worked equally well whether she was teasing her clit or using it internally.

  “Excellent. Bring it with you.”

  She dug both pieces from the bottom of her suitcase and tucked the toy into her clutch. “Can you excuse me for a moment?”

  He went to stand by the window, and she headed into the bathroom.

  With the door closed behind her, she removed her mask. For a moment, she hardly recognized the bold person staring back at her. This Avery had gotten spanked in the restroom of the Nyte hotel, had Master’s Cole’s finger up her ass, and was prepared to go back to his room with him—all things she might never had ordinarily done.

  Even if it was just for a night, she was glad to have this opportunity.

  “Two minutes, sub. Don’t make me come in there.”

  “Yes, Sir!” Quickly she brushed her hair then applied a fresh coat of eyeliner and mascara before replacing the mask.

  Finally she swiped on another coat of vixen-pink lipstick before squaring her shoulders and opening the door.

  He stood near the minibar, a small glass bottle of San Pellegrino in hand. “You are worth any wait.”

  Master Cole made her feel as if she might be. “You’re very kind, Sir.”

  “I’ve warned you that’s not true. Honest, perhaps. Ready?”

  She plopped the mascara and lipstick into her clutch then debated adding other toiletries. Since she figured she would be back in her own room in a couple of hours, she closed the flap on her purse.

  In the hallway, he said, “Please follow me.”

  Her insides lurched.

  Everything this man did spoke to his understanding and mastery of a sub.

  Still, he had her precede him onto the elevator, then from it when they reached his floor.

  With his gaze on her, Avery had never been more aware of her femininity.

  Once they were sealed inside his room and she’d placed her belongings on his desk, he offered her a drink of the mineral water.

  She pretended her hand wasn’t shaking as she took a sip.

  When she was finished, he took the bottle from her and put it down. He flipped a button on his computer then plugged a set of speakers into it. Within a few seconds, the smooth sounds of instrumental jazz encouraged a sensual atmosphere.

  Avery looked around. The bedding had already been turned down, and she saw they both had the same luxurious linens and pillows. She hoped that when she went back to her room there would be chocolate-covered strawberries on the nightstand as well. But his room was more of a suite and was more elegant in subtle ways. He had a couple of additional pieces of furniture, perhaps higher ceilings, and certainly more windows. “This is a much bigger room than mine.”

  “I’m staying awhile.”

  She jolted. “Are you?”

  “I’m on special assignment to Mr. Nyte. I’ve been planning to get a temporary place out here.” He shrugged. “But I haven’t so far. This is handy. And the amenities? The workout room is better than most gyms.”

  “I sometimes think I shouldn’t stay here. Going home afterward is always a letdown. Don’t get me wrong, my apartment is nice. But it’s small. And it’s not on the Strip.” And it didn’t have a cupcake ATM, twenty-four hour room service, or someone to do her laundry.

  “Then we should enjoy all the amenities. The armoire is unlocked. Have a look inside.”

  Her legs felt wobbly in a way that had nothing to do with her heels.

  She crossed the room to open the doors of the piece of furniture and stared in wide-eyed shock. He had every impact device imaginable, from floggers to paddles, carpet beaters to crops and canes. Even a single-tail hung curled from a hook.

  “This is some collection.”

  “The Nyte caters to every need.”

  “So… These aren’t yours?”

  “Some are. The cane for example.” He joined her. “And the short golden flogger.”

  She wanted it on her skin.

  “You asked for tonight,” he r
eminded her. “In return, I will demand your total honesty in every other way.”

  She faced him. “I’m not sure I understand.”

  “When I ask a question, I want an answer. I’ve told you that you’ll get what you want from me, but you need to be clear about what it is. I expect you to ask.”

  Avery squared her shoulders, drawing from the strength that anonymity gave her.

  “Good.” He took a seat in an easy chair and propped an ankle on the opposite knee. “Please remove your dress.”

  Taking off her clothes in front of a man for the first time always made her heart careen.

  He pressed his hands together and looked at her over them. There was only a tiny zipper near the base of her spine, and she reached to slowly lower it.

  She brushed the one strap from her shoulder then allowed the bodice to drop.

  She was braless, and his gaze lingered on her breasts. Because of the cool air, her nipples hardened instantly. Or at least that was what she told herself, rather than believing it happened because of the way he watched her.

  Without further encouragement, she lifted the hem of the gown and drew it up, over her head. She draped the material across the foot of the bed, then asked, “What about the shoes?”

  “I like them. But it’s up to you. If they’re comfortable enough, leave them on. If you feel more like my little sub when you’re completely naked and barefoot, take them off.”

  “I’ll keep them on.”

  A little uncertain, she waited for his next instruction.

  “Do whatever feels natural.”

  Could there be anything more fraught with danger?

  After considering for a moment, she knelt.

  “Yes,” he whispered.

  She spread her knees wide and placed her hands behind her neck before tipping back her head and closing her eyes.

  “Very nice.”

  He allowed time to drag and stretch. She forced herself not to fidget. Then, after a full minute or so, she realized—fuck it—that he was waiting on her. “Please, Sir, will you touch me?”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Your sub,” she corrected.

  “I’d be happy to. In what way?”