His for One Night

by Octavia Wildwood

  I wasn’t sure when I’d decided playing it safe wasn’t for me. I’d always been the kind of girl who doesn’t take risks…until recently.

  I supposed my shift in thinking had begun a couple months back when I was at Mark’s place. He was busy shopping online, in a bidding war for some stupid hard-to-find video game he just had to have. I’d been in the kitchen making lunch. He yelled to me to bring him a paper from the pile on his kitchen table that he never seemed to put away.

  I hadn’t meant to snoop, but when retrieving the paper, I’d inadvertently seen his pay stub.

  We had the exact same job. Our contract positions were identical, but our salaries were not. He made more money than I did and to add insult to injury, I worked way harder than he did. I was the one who put in all those extra hours at work and went above and beyond to help my students be successful. He showed movies in class and cut out early. Yet he made more money than me.

  After that, I’d decided playing the straight and narrow wasn’t all it was cut out to be. I’d always thought the way to get ahead in life was to work hard and be the best. But in that moment I came to realize maybe that stupid saying has the right idea after all: it’s not what you know, it’s who you know.

  Mark was chummy with the head of the faculty. In fact, they were poker buddies. It wasn’t something I could compete with. Maybe that sounds pessimistic but it was simply the truth. As long as favoritism was allowed to influence professional decisions, I knew I’d always come in second to Mark. I think at that point, something in me had broken.

  Some people might react by shirking their duties and slacking off at work. But I knew if I did that it would be the students who suffered, and they didn’t deserve that. I’d chosen my profession because I wanted to be an educator. I wanted to make a difference and shape young minds to have a more objective worldview. So I continued putting in the long hours, but I also started to make an effort to change my personal life.

  In a way, I supposed I could understand how I’d wound up in Hayden’s bed. I could even understand why I was now in a stretch limo on my way to a party where I’d agreed to play a perverse sex game. You only live once. Seize the day. You know…all the usual clichés you see on inspirational posters and the like. But was I pushing the envelope too far?

  As we pulled up in front of a stately mansion out in the middle of nowhere, my stomach was in knots. I briefly contemplated asking the limo driver to turn around and take me back to my house. Maybe I’d be smartest to call the whole thing off before it went any further. What business did I, a college instructor, have gallivanting about with a rich, cultured, self-admitted sexual deviant?

  I hoped I wasn’t getting in over my head.

  Just as my second thoughts were about to get the best of me, I saw Hayden standing at the end of the drive, waiting for me with a single red rose in his hand. One might think the sight of him would incite a panic attack, but the opposite proved to be true. Seeing him standing there tall, strong and handsome in his tuxedo, I instantly felt a sense of calm come over me.

  It was going to be okay.

  The expression of Hayden’s face was one of polite disinterest. I could tell by his body language that he didn’t want to be at the party. But when he saw me step out of the limo, the change in him was evident. I saw him light up, a broad smile spreading across his face. It was like watching the dead come to life.

  Immediately, he strode toward me.

  As I walked toward Hayden, I knew he’d been right. I could feel it in my mind and in my body, which was still very much aroused. For the night, I belonged to him. And as I came to stand in front of him, well aware of his appreciative gaze as his eyes roamed over my body, I knew something else: I was ready to submit to him.

  Chapter 06

  The mansion was something else. Its high ceilings, marble floors and tasteful décor were truly impressive. The atmosphere was festive and fairly laid back, or at least as laid back as one can be at a black tie affair in a billionaire’s mansion. By the looks of the other partygoers, none of them were strangers to living in the lap of luxury.

  Hayden was every bit the gentleman, rarely leaving my side. He offered me his arm and a drink and off we went, wandering through the expansive mansion. We moved from room to room, sampling hors d’oeuvres, taking in the artwork and mingling with the other guests.

  Despite his lack of enthusiasm over the art display that was soon to be shipped overseas, I found it intriguing. The pieces were distinctive, angry abstracts with vivid colors that evoked strong emotions. “How can you not love these?” I murmured at one point. I wasn’t even an artsy sort of person but the harsh brushstrokes on the canvas nonetheless spoke to me.

  “If you knew what I know, you’d understand,” he told me darkly. Before I had a chance to ask what he meant by that, we were interrupted by yet another person who wanted to say hello.

  When people approached us to chat, Hayden always introduced me proudly and made a point to include me in the conversations, but I could always feel his body tense. It was clear he didn’t enjoy rubbing elbows with these people, though he did such a good job of hiding it that I suspected I was the only one who could tell.

  Watching Hayden interact with the people at his father’s party was interesting. He was charismatic and charming, knowing exactly what to say, even telling perfectly executed jokes and anecdotes. The people who knew him seemed to think fondly of him. I don’t know what I had been expecting, but it wasn’t that.

  Hayden Slate, it seemed, was a conundrum wrapped in a riddle. Just when I thought I knew what to expect, he surprised me yet again.

  After about half an hour, Hayden leaned down to whisper in my ear. My heart leapt into my throat in nervous anticipation as I expected to receive an order. Instead, he murmured, “You know the funniest thing about all of this? The guest of honor isn’t even here. He didn’t show up to his own party. It serves my father right for neglecting to consider what Neville wanted.”

  Even though Hayden framed the comment as concern for the reclusive billionaire’s comfort, I sensed there were deeper resentments at play. But I was more concerned with the fact that we’d been at the party for a while now and Hayden hadn’t done a single thing in the spirit of the game he’d so authoritatively informed me we’d be playing.

  Had he changed his mind?

  It was hard not to be disappointed. I mean, the party was a fabulous, once-in-a-lifetime event and I was happy to be there, but schmoozing with a bunch of socialites and businessmen hadn’t been my purpose for attending. I’d come there expecting sexual escapades. Instead, I had champagne and caviar.

  With a shrug, I plucked a bite-sized cheese ball off a waiter’s tray and popped it into my mouth. If the night wasn’t going to be about dirty, kinky sex games, then at least I could numb my disappointment with good food and expensive champagne.

  “There he is!”

  I turned and looked as a white haired man in his late sixties made his way over to us with an entire entourage in tow. I didn’t miss the way Hayden cringed for just a millisecond before plastering a phony grin on his face and turning around. My arm was still linked through his and I could most certainly feel his muscles tensing.

  The older man clapped Hayden on the back while shaking his hand in greeting. Then he looked him up and down and wrinkled his nose. “That’s what you decided to wear tonight?” he asked, making his distaste known.

  That not-so-subtle criticism surprised me, not just because it was needlessly rude but also because I thought Hayden looked great. His black tuxedo was a classic, timeless look that suited him well. I didn’t expect Hayden to take the comment well but he merely ignored it. His clenched jaw was the only indication that he was annoyed.

  “And who’s this?” the older man demanded, looking at me expectantly.

  “This is Daniella,” Hayden interjected before I could even open my mouth, wedging himself protectively between the older man and me. “Daniella,” he said flatly, “this is m
y father, Henrik Slate.” His voice was devoid of enthusiasm as he introduced us. Clearly this was an encounter Hayden would have preferred to avoid all together.

  Henrik took my hand and kissed it. “It’s about time this son of mine settled down with a nice woman,” he said with a touch of disdain in his voice. “I look forward to seeing much more of you, Daniella.”

  “She’s just a friend,” Hayden said sharply.

  “It figures you wouldn’t have the sense to recognize a good thing when it’s right in front of you,” Henrik said nastily. “That’s exactly how you are with your career, as well. I offer you the world and all you do is complain like a poor little rich boy.”

  Had I heard that wrong? I was pretty sure my jaw was on the floor.

  “You’ll have to excuse my son,” Henrik said to me with an irritated, humorless laugh. “He’s always been foolish and ungrateful.” With that, Henrik abruptly turned and walked, his entourage following behind him.

  “Sorry about that,” Hayden muttered as we watched them leave. “He’s an asshole.”

  “Do you want to go?” I asked, feeling like I’d witnessed something personal I shouldn’t have. Truthfully, I was amazed Hayden had managed to maintain his composure. After the threatening way he’d talked about wanting five minutes alone with Mark, I thought for sure Hayden would have at least given his father a piece of his mind – or hit him.

  Maybe figuring Hayden Slate out would take more work than I’d anticipated.

  “I’d love to leave, believe me,” Hayden snorted. “But unfortunately, I don’t have that luxury. But what I do have is you here with me,” he said, brightening. He lowered his voice and told me, “I seem to recall we were going to play a little game. Do you remember your safeword?”

  I nodded, biting my lower lip anxiously. “What are you going to make me do?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know,” he smiled, drawing me in close. After a brief kiss that left me longing for more, he said, “You can start by getting a glass of champagne,” nodding toward the waiters walking around with trays full of it.

  “Uh, okay.” There was a definite shift in the power dynamics – he was no longer getting drinks for me, instead ordering me to fetch my own. But that wasn’t exactly sexually dominant, was it? Confused, I walked over and got a drink. I turned around, momentarily unable to find Hayden until I saw him beckoning to me from the other side of the room.

  I joined him.

  “It’s quite the spread they’ve got here, isn’t it?” he observed, gesturing to the table he stood in front of. On it was a massive, elaborate fresh fruit display. It was piled high with pineapples, bananas, grapes, papayas, chocolate covered strawberries and more. Hayden popped a pitted cherry into his mouth and murmured an utterance of approval as he bit into it.

  “Yes, it’s a beautiful display,” I replied, taking a sip of my champagne.

  I watched as Hayden selected a handful of green grapes with great care. “These look nice,” he commented casually, turning the grapes over in his hand thoughtfully. Then he promptly plopped them, one at a time, straight into my glass of champagne!

  “What are you doing?” I hissed.

  He smiled, unbothered by my reaction. “I’m just making sure you get the best ones,” he advised. “Just hang onto them for a bit, okay?” He held out his arm. “Let’s go for a walk.”

  Hayden led me outside onto a sprawling back patio. It was already dark out and I clutched my wrap around my shoulders, grateful I’d thought to bring it along at the last minute. We walked away from the handful of people who’d stepped out there for air. Hayden led me down a stone path to a small covered gazebo with miniature white lights strung up all around it.

  We were the only ones there.

  He took my champagne glass from me and set it aside. Then he pushed me up against the side of the gazebo and grabbed my ass, holding me in place. He ground his hips into mine and I could feel that he was getting hard.

  “I’ve been watching you all night long,” he confessed breathlessly as he buried his face in my hair, his lips at my ear. “The way you walk, the way you bite your lower lip when you’re unsure of yourself... You’re so sexy and I don’t even think you realize it, Daniella. That just makes you even sexier. I want to throw you down and fuck you right here.”

  “Someone will see!” I protested.

  “Yes, I know,” he agreed, his body so close to mine that I could feel its heat. “We’ll have to be a bit more subtle than that, I’m sorry to say.” Even as he spoke, his hand slid up my leg and under my dress. Hayden began to stroke my very wet pussy through my skimpy lace panties teasingly until I was positively dripping.

  I gasped and looked around, but no one was paying attention to us. Even though we were shrouded in shadows, I didn’t feel completely secure under the cover of darkness. I knew that anyone could come along at any time and discover what we were up to. That knowledge petrified me but it also was a huge turn on.

  It was all I could do to stand still – gyrating or crying out would certainly tip people off to what was going on. Instead, I clutched at Hayden’s waist and whimpered softly under my breath. In that moment, I could focus on nothing except his magic fingers and what they were doing to me. He had the power to make me melt. I was completely, utterly at his mercy.

  Just as I was on the verge of release, Hayden stopped.

  “Please?” I asked, dying for him to bring me off.

  He shook his head. “This,” he said authoritatively, grabbing my plump, wet mound through my panties, “belongs to me tonight. I decide whether you get to cum and you haven’t earned it yet.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Do I sound like I’m joking? Let me spell it out for you. Your tits,” he said, blocking my body from view with his and grabbing my breasts through my dress, “belong to me tonight. So does your ass,” he informed me, giving it a sharp smack that caused me to jump. “Your pussy and your clit are mine too. In fact, your whole body belongs to me tonight. That was the deal. Are we clear?”

  Wordlessly, I nodded.

  It was beginning.

  “Take off your panties.”

  “Here? What if someone sees?”

  He grinned. “I would advise you to do it quickly and discreetly. Now get on with it.”

  Surveying my surroundings, I was dismayed to see there were still a few people scattered about outside. They were loitering about, visiting, and looked like they were in no hurry to go back inside. They really weren’t all that far from us. If they happened to look in our direction they’d be able to tell what I was doing for sure.

  I took a deep breath and reached up under my dress. It was risky. Burlington was a small place and gossip spread like wildfire. If someone noticed what I was doing, word could easily spread to everyone I knew – including my students, colleagues and employers. Despite that, I found myself wanting to do as Hayden ordered. At some point I supposed I’d bought into the game.

  Somehow, I was able to drop my panties without calling any attention to myself. Letting out a sigh of relief, I stepped out of the flimsy lingerie. I quickly tucked the panties under my arm right beneath my clutch.

  “Give them to me.”

  With a trembling hand, I gave Hayden my wet panties. I was horrified when he held them to his nose and inhaled deeply, closing his eyes in appreciation. “Your pussy smells so sweet,” he told me. “I can’t wait to eat it.”

  His crass language – not to mention what he was doing – made me blush furiously. “I’m going to hang onto these,” he informed me, tucking my damp panties into the breast pocket of his tuxedo jacket.

  “So here’s what you’re going to do,” Hayden instructed, picking up my champagne glass and handing it to me. “Visit the ladies’ room. Fish the grapes out of the glass one by one and shove them all up your snatch. I think it goes without saying that you’re not allowed to bring yourself off without my permission.”

  I looked at the glass full of champagne-marinate
d grapes in horror. There were six of them in there! “Can I at least have my panties back?” I asked anxiously. “You know, to…help keep them in?”

  He shook his head. “Not a chance, Daniella. Your panties are mine now. They’re awfully wet though. I imagine your pussy must be soaked. That will make it tough to hold the grapes in, won’t it? Your hole will be so slippery. You’ll just have to squeeze your muscles tight and hope you don’t have any embarrassing mishaps while you’re mingling with the guests.”

  He’d set me up! He’d deliberately gotten me wet and worked up only to use it against me! Glowering at him, I turned on my heel and marched back inside, my stilettos tapping angrily. I could feel the cool night breeze on my bare, slick pussy as I walked. It made me realize just how exposed I was – and how short my cocktail dress was.

  Locking myself in the bathroom, I set the champagne glass on the edge of the sink, hiked up my dress and put my right leg up on the toilet. Then I set to work, fishing out the grapes one by one and pushing them up inside myself. They went in easily given how horny I was, but I had no idea whether they’d pop out just as easily.

  To say I was nervous as I exited the bathroom was an understatement. To make matters worse, I could feel the grapes moving around up there and the sensation only served to remind me of just how horny I was. As I rejoined the party, I didn’t dare sit down. I knew if I did, my bare, wet pussy would leave an embarrassing stain on the back of my dress – and I might even lose a grape or two. To make matters even worse, Hayden was nowhere to be found.

  Trying my best to walk normally, I teetered over to one of the many food tables and, with my thighs clenched tightly together, pretended to be very interested in the bruschetta.

  Unfortunately, one of the partygoers took that opportunity to come over and strike up a conversation with me. “I haven’t seen you here before,” the distinguished looking man in his fifties said as he walked up beside me and began to load up his plate with bite-sized hors d’oeuvres. “These spicy Spanish olives are to die for!”