She nodded against his chest.
“Good. Try to get some sleep. It’s going to be a long night.”
When he woke a few hours later, the spot next to him was empty and the shower was running. Briefly, he considered joining her. He checked his watch, noting they had a little more than an hour before they had to meet for dinner. That might give him enough time to get ready afterward, but it probably wasn’t enough for Addison.
But imagining her in the shower, running her soapy hands over her tits then down her stomach to her sweet pussy, only fired up his libido. Palming his dick through his jeans, he rubbed the rough fabric over the sensitive skin. He needed to rub one out before dinner and he didn’t want to wait until he was in the shower.
Unfastening his pants, he wrapped his hand around the shaft while picturing Addison. Was she as horny as he was? Was she getting herself off in the shower? Did she use her fingers or one of the detachable shower heads?
The image morphed so he was in the shower with her, using the shower head along with his tongue. A bead of pre-cum escaped, and he squeezed his eyes closed, pressing his head into the pillow.
Something warm and wet licked the tip of his dick, and he jerked.
“What the hell?”
Addison stood next to the bed, wearing a towel and a smirk and nothing else.
“Jesus. Addison, you scared the crap out of me.” He’d been so caught up he hadn’t noticed the shower turn off.
“I see that.”
He moved to tuck himself back into his pants—he’d finish in the shower.
“Ah ah.” She pushed his hands aside and wrapped hers around his cock.
Devon hissed through clenched teeth. The mattress dipped next to his hip as she climbed on the bed, settling between his legs. He spread them farther apart to give her room.
“Addison—”
“Someone’s been naughty and needs to be punished.” She licked the very tip of his head.
“Shit. I don’t think you understand the definition of punishment,” he said.
“Hands under your head. Keep them there or I stop.”
He followed her instructions, shoving his hands under the pillow and fisting the fabric in his hands.
“Good boy.” She licked around the head of his dick before slowly sliding her mouth down the length.
He spread his knees wider when she drew her mouth up the shaft, the tip of her tongue pressing against the underside.
“Fuuuuck,” he groaned.
Grasping the base of his cock with one hand, she set a slow, steady rhythm with her mouth and fist. Up and down, twisting her fist.
Maybe she did understand the definition of punishment because he teetered on the precipice of an orgasm forever. She didn’t change her pace, and it hovered just out of reach. Every time he tried to thrust his hips up or speed up, she backed off. His whole body shook, every muscle straining with the effort to be still and accept what she was giving.
“Addy, baby.” He wasn’t even sure what he was asking for.
She shifted and grasped his ball sack in her other hand, rolling and squeezing in time to her mouth. There it was. It started to gather in the base of his spine, and his balls drew up even as she pulled on them.
One of her fingers rubbed his perineum and, holy fuck, she slid the finger forward, farther into his ass and pressed against the entrance at the same time she took his cock deep in her mouth and swallowed.
“Fuck me!” His orgasm exploded out of him, and his back bowed off the bed. His hips thrust mindlessly as he spurted his seed. Shit. Every time with Addison was better than the last.
She released him with a soft lick and swirl of her tongue and crawled up his body to lie on top of him, her head in the crook of his neck.
It took every last bit of his strength to wrap his arms around her, one hand on her ass. He blinked his eyes open. “Jesus. Are we going to be late for dinner?”
“No. We’ve got about forty minutes. I didn’t wash my hair so I just need to do my makeup while you take a shower.”
“It’s only been twenty minutes?” he asked.
“Eh. Closer to fifteen.”
“I don’t know what to say. Thank you. I’d like to return the favor, but I’m finding it hard to move.”
She laughed softly. “That’s okay. I took care of myself in the shower.”
He squeezed her ass. “Fuck. That’s what I imagined. That’s why I started stroking one out.”
She propped herself up on his chest. “Why didn’t you join me?”
A thick strand of hair had escaped her bun, and he tucked it behind her ear. “I didn’t want to make us late.”
She grinned but her smile faded. “Are you okay with all this?”
“All what? The awesome sex?”
That got a little of her smile back. “The power dynamic we have to present outside this room with you acting like my submissive. I’m having a hard time staying in character. I don’t want a pet or a toy. You don’t find it…degrading?”
“I’ve got a buddy down in Tampa who owns a BDSM club. I’ve visited a couple of times, but never took part in anything.”
“Why?”
“I wasn’t dating anyone and I didn’t want to take part in a scene with someone I didn’t know.”
“You didn’t know me,” she said.
“I did, kind of. Through Braedon.” It was a chickenshit answer. He should have told her he’d known her for a long time, even if it was from afar. “But back to your question about whether I find this degrading. I don’t. I know some people, men and women, get off being degraded. For some, it’s a power exchange. For others, it’s sexual gratification. In every situation I’ve ever seen, the dynamic between a Dom and sub is one of trust and respect between consenting adults…even when it involves wearing a dog tail butt plug and eating out of a dog bowl.”
Addison rested her chin on her hands. “These women are here to buy my brother and Michael.”
“Yeah.”
“There’s nothing consenting about that,” she said.
“No, there’s not.”
She closed her eyes and a tear rolled down one cheek. “I want to burn this place to the ground with every one of them in it.”
“Let’s concentrate on getting your brother and Michael out first, then we can explore mass murder options.”
She nodded and blew out a breath. Rolling to the side, she slid off the bed. The towel fell to the floor, exposing the sensual curve of her back as she walked over to her suitcase.
“Better hop in the shower or we will be late,” she said.
Devon ran a hand over his mouth. It might be worth it.
Chapter 19
Dinner was a formal, lavish affair. Soft candlelight filled the room as course after course was served to them by men wearing nothing but stiff white tuxedo collars and cuffs. None of the other guests blinked twice at having a penis hovering next to them while being served a dish, but Addison pushed her food around the plate looking for any stray hairs before eating.
When the first course was removed, Graham leaned over and whispered, “I hope spotted dick isn’t on the menu.”
He said that right as she had taken a sip of wine that went straight up her nose. It was that or spew it at Connie, sitting across the table from her.
Devon handed her a napkin from his position behind her chair. Some of the submissives knelt at their Dommes’ sides, while others stood behind the chairs like Devon did. They ate standing up. Addison didn’t like it, but the seating had been assigned, and there were no seats available for any of the subs. Graham was the only man seated at the long table since he was Paige’s “stylist.”
The conversation wasn’t any different than the few dinner parties Addison had attended. They discussed politics, world events, and Paige and the woman beside her got into a heated debate about college football teams.
It was all so normal. As long as she ignored the woman next to her getting eaten out. Addison vacillated be
tween turned on and awkwardly mortified.
Devon leaned close and whispered, “Are you going to ask for what she’s having?”
She had to press her lips together to keep from laughing and she shooed Devon away from her ear.
“Tsarevna,” a woman called from the far end of the table. “I have a question about tomorrow’s activities.”
The level of the conversation lowered as everyone turned their attention to their hostess.
“Of course, Lydia. What would you like to know?”
“How did you obtain the merchandise?”
Addison clenched her fist around the knife in her hand so hard one of her knuckles cracked. Graham rested his hand on hers and pushed it against the table until she released the knife, then held her hand in his.
Tsarevna sipped her wine. “I don’t see why it’s important, but if you must know, they came to me through a middleman.”
“But they’re here willingly?” Lydia asked.
“Well, they haven’t voiced any objections.” Tsarevna offered that patronizing smile of hers.
Addison wanted nothing more than to punch that stupid woman in the face.
“Are they capable of voicing an objection should they have any?” Lydia asked.
Maybe not all the women here were as blasé about auctioning off unwilling human beings as they appeared.
Tsarevna remained silent, lifting her chin a fraction and staring down her nose.
Lydia set down her silverware and wiped her mouth with her napkin. Setting the napkin next to her plate, she stood. “I’m afraid something has come up. A pressing matter I must see to immediately and I’ll need to leave tonight. I would appreciate if you arranged for the boat to take me to Odesa in an hour.”
Tsarevna’s lips pinched at the corners. “Has anyone else had a pressing matter arise that requires them to leave immediately?”
Three other women stood from the table.
“How unfortunate.” She raised a hand and beckoned to one of the men behind her. “Have the boat here in an hour to take these guests back to Odesa.”
She turned her attention back to Lydia and the other women. “You understand if you leave tonight you will not receive any future invitations.”
“Completely,” Lydia said. “You’ve strayed too far from the vision of the Council, Tatiana. I want no part of it.” She left the dining room, the man with her trailing behind. The other women left as well.
Addison stared wide-eyed at Connie. What just happened? she mouthed.
Later, Connie mouthed back.
Graham leaned close. “I think we just witnessed a coup,” he whispered.
The tension and anger emanating from Tsarevna were palpable. Conversation was slow to start back up, everyone speaking in hushed tones and whispers. Halfway through the fish course, cutlery clattered against a china plate, startling more than one person.
Tsarevna pushed back from the table and left the room.
Everyone glanced around at each other, wondering what they should do.
A butler entered through the doorway she had stormed through. “Tsarevna is not feeling well and has retired for the night. Tonight’s exhibition has been canceled. Tsarevna bids you all a good evening. Dinner will continue.” He bowed, executed an about-face, and left the dining room.
A brief moment of silence was quickly overtaken as conversation erupted around the table. Addison caught snippets.
“I’ve never seen her this angry.”
“She and Lydia have known each other for years.”
“Do you think the auction will still go on tomorrow?”
The last question had her clenching her fists again.
“Easy,” Graham said. “This will likely work to our benefit.”
Inherently, Addison understood any kink in Tsarevna’s normal routine and plan worked to their benefit, but she struggled to sit there with a fake smile on her face while these women discussed purchasing two people. Never mind one of them was her brother, they were people! Human beings with lives and families who missed them.
“Well, that was an interesting turn of events,” the woman next to her said.
“Why do you say that?” Addison asked.
“Lydia is—was—Tsarevna’s staunchest supporter. She was one of the first members of the Council of Helen, but as she gained more public prominence, her role in the Council became quieter.”
“Who is she?”
The woman smiled. “You don’t recognize her?”
Addison shook her head. “No, but I don’t really pay all that much attention to celebrity gossip.”
“I suppose it makes sense—Americans never pay any attention to the monarchies unless they’re British. She made a name for herself as a progressive politician in her country, then retired from politics to marry the aging king.”
Addison looked at the empty chair Lydia had occupied. “She’s a queen?”
“Dowager. Her son is king now. It’s a purely ceremonial title for a small country most people can’t find on a map. In any case, her departure doesn’t bode well for the Council.” The woman picked up her wine glass and turned to the person on the other side of her.
Addison sipped her own wine. That wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Discussions eventually returned to more mundane topics, and the rest of dinner was uneventful.
Gathered in Paige and Graham’s room once more, Addison began with the most important question. “This helps us, right?”
“Yes,” Graham said. “I don’t know what went down between those women, but it absolutely helps for us.”
“Do we need to change anything?” Devon said.
“No,” Paige said. “Tinker and Jane are timing their arrival based on zero three thirty—it’s too late to move the timeline. But it does mean that everyone will likely have been asleep longer and there will be less of a chance of running into any late-night partiers. Plus, Tatiana will be distracted.”
“How bad was that scene at dinner?” Addison asked. “The woman sitting next to me said they go way back.”
“It was pretty bad,” Connie said. “Lydia is one of the original members of the Council and one of Tatiana’s oldest friends. For Lydia to object to how she’s operating sends a really strong message to the other members who have turned a blind eye to Tatiana’s activities.”
“As long as it helps us, I don’t really care,” Devon said.
Addison couldn’t have agreed more. Tatiana’s empire needed to fall, and she would do everything in her power to make sure that happened.
“Everyone try to get some rest. Zero three thirty go time,” Graham said. “Pack only the essentials to take with you—the less the better.”
Paige groaned. “All those pretty clothes. I’m claiming them as an expense.”
“Don’t you always?” Graham asked.
Addison smiled, then thought of the blue dress she’d bought. Hmm…maybe she could fit it in her go bag—it was a seriously hot dress.
“You coming?” Devon asked.
She nodded. “Yeah. See you guys in about four hours.”
Devon rested his hand on her lower back as they crossed the hall. “How are you feeling?”
“Antsy. Restless. Nervous.” She pushed open the door to their room.
“Understandable.” He shrugged out of his jacket and slung it over the end of the bed, then loosened the tie around his neck and unbuttoned the first two buttons of his shirt. “Want to work some of that nervous energy out?”
She stopped pacing and stared at him. Damn. Standing in the middle of the room with his tie askew and his hands in his pockets, he was eye porn. It hit her—this was probably the last chance they’d have to be together. They hadn’t really discussed after.
After they rescued Braedon and Michael. After they got back to the States. After their lives returned to normal—if that ever happened. This was it for them, and she might be more anxious about that than getting Braedon out of the dungeon.
“What?” he asked w
hen she just stared at him.
She kicked off her heels and unzipped the zipper at the back of her dress, letting it slide off her shoulders, over her hips to the floor.
“Addy?”
“Devon?”
“What are you doing?”
“Taking my clothes off. What are you doing?”
His Adam’s apple bobbed, and he licked his lips. His gaze trailed down her body. “Watching you take off your clothes.”
“Are you just going to watch?”
He slid his tie over his head and let it drop. “You gonna take your bra off?”
“I think I’ll wait until you’re caught up.”
She laughed when he pulled his shirt off without unbuttoning it, popping a few buttons in the process, and stripped out of his pants. He forgot about his shoes and fell over when his feet got tangled in the fabric.
“Oh, you think this is funny.” Free of his clothes, he leapt up and tackled her to the bed.
Addison shrieked as they hit the bed and bounced.
“Shh.” He covered her mouth with his hand. “People are going to think I’m murdering you.”
“Please. Like I’m the only one screaming in this place. Besides, you’re the sub—they’ll think you’re the one screaming.”
“In that case, you should be on top.” He rolled them over and centered them on the bed.
She pushed up and straddled his hips. “Now that I have you here, what should I do with you?”
“Whatever you want.”
His words felt heavier than he probably intended. Devon gripped her ass and rocked her hips, reminding her she shouldn’t read anything into his comment other than a sexual invitation.
Bending forward, she flicked his nipple with her tongue before sucking it into her mouth and biting it.
He groaned and rolled his hips under her, rubbing his erection against her cleft. The friction was delicious, and she rocked against him. His hands traveled up her sides and around her back to unclasp her bra and drag the straps down her arms.
She stood over him and shimmied out of her underwear. When he realized what she was doing, he pushed his boxers down his hips and kicked free. His erection rested against his stomach and bounced when she licked her lips. Well, someone was happy to see her.
Truth In The Lie (The Leonidas Corporation Book 2) Page 12