by Livia Grant
“No! Please. Not the paddle. Please, Sir… can you…” She paused, pressing her face into the soft cushion of the bench seat to avoid looking him the eye. She finished her request with muffled words. “Please flog me, Sir.”
Lukus grinned, not that she would see it. Stepping behind and to her left, Lukus got in position and went to town, pelting her back with light licks meant to put Tiffany at ease. She’d told him before she loved how it felt a bit like a massage, and God knew she deserved to release all of the stress of the last few weeks.
After several minutes, he moved lower, letting the leather strips hug her bare ass, his strikes getting stronger, warming her bottom and sit-spot until he was delivering full-strength strokes. Her moaning was steady, with a squeak here and there when a stray stripe struck her particularly hard. He was relentless, driving all traces of anxiety out of her. Taking a quick break to check on her, he grinned when he saw the wetness ready to drip from her pussy onto the nice hotel carpet.
As tempting as it was to unleash his cock from his jeans and drive into her, he resisted. He had other plans first.
Lukus threw the flogger onto the bed and then helped Tiffany regain her feet long enough to pull her around to the front of the bench. It didn’t take much to convince her to fall to her knees considering her legs were wobbly.
“Present,” he ordered, loving watching her work through her sexual daze to get into position: kneeling with her legs spread wide, ass on heels—back straight—fingers intertwined at the back of her neck—elbows out wide—breasts pressed out proudly.
Christ, she is perfect.
Lukus reached to tweak her nipple, admiring her body until his own need roared. He moved his fingers to his belt buckle, slowly unbuckling the accessory and knowing what the sound did to his submissive, he yanked the well-worn leather through the loops in a fast motion that had the leather flicking in the open air.
Tiffany’s tongue shot out as she licked her lips nervously, concerned he might put the leather to use on her nicely warmed ass. He’d save that for the next day, throwing the belt to the seat of the bench. Next, he unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, pressing them down his legs. After toeing off his boots, he kicked his pants aside.
His shirt quickly followed onto the pile of clothes on the floor as he caught Tiffany glancing at him, anxiously. Happy to give her a better look, he stepped in front of her, the bulge in his boxer briefs just inches from her face as he slowly lowered the waistband, letting his rock-hard cock spring forward, ready for action.
Lukus nursed his erection slowly with his left hand as he barked, “Eyes.” He adored the lust-filled gaze that turned up towards him from her knees. Making sure they’d be keeping track, he added, “We’ve added your first flogging to our honeymoon accomplishments list. Time now to add your first face fucking. Open wide for me, baby.”
As tempting as hurrying inside her was, Lukus enjoyed the spectacular view of his naked wife, on her knees at his feet, her mouth opened wide and her pink tongue peeking out. She was ready to lick the underside of his shaft, just the way he loved it. He reached to cup both her cheeks in his palms, pulling her body forward as he took a short step forward, placing the engorged head of his erection between her lips. Her tongue got to work, swirling around the tip as he pressed forward another inch.
Determined to make one of his favorite sexual pastimes last as long as possible, Lukus kept his rocking motion shallow, allowing his wife time to get into a nice blow-job rhythm. Ready to take things to the next level, Lukus held her face tighter as he slipped another inch into her waiting warmth. Again and again, until the gurgling sounds Tiffany was making as she tried to accommodate his girth and length threatened to have him shooting his wad much too early.
Grateful they’d already had sex twice that day, he pulled out to the tip, letting his girl grab a deep breath as the first line of spittle spilled from the corner of her mouth. He knew the tears threatening to spill over and down her cheek were from her exertion, not because she was upset. Soon, she would have a beautiful streak of mascara running down that cheek, making it harder for him to hold off coming since the sadist in him loved to see her cry.
Deciding to take their oral fun to the next level, Lukus leaned down to the bench and picked up his leather belt. He saw a flicker of fear in her eyes as she thought he might belt her ass as he fucked her throat, but he had other ideas for his belt. Looping it around her neck and under her long hair, Lukus pulled on the ends of the leather, effectively using it as a leash to yank her mouth forward until the tip of his penis crashed into the back of her throat.
Tiff’s gag reflex kicked into action as she struggled beautifully to accommodate his cock. Those tears he’d been admiring fell, taking her black mascara with them as he held her face against his body for several long seconds. He knew it made him a caveman that her sputters for air as he released the belt long enough for her to take several gasps only made him harder.
Back he went, filling her again—each stroke deeper, longer. The belt ensured he remained in control of the action, pushing her to the tippy edge of her comfort zone just before giving her another sip of air. The deeper he thrust, the more he expected to see panic in her eyes. When he saw only submission in those ocean-blues instead, he knew how very lucky he was.
It would be so easy to fall into his own climax, shooting ropes of cum down her throat like he had many times before. But as tempting as that was, he knew she deserved to come, too. After almost coming when she swallowed around his shaft, Lukus pulled the belt away from their bodies, allowing his rod to plop out of her mouth as she gasped again for air.
Lukus scooped her up into his arms to carry her just the few feet back to the bench at the end of the bed. He had plans to reenact one of their first times together. Lukus laid her at the end of the bench, letting her recline into the tall armrest he’d flogged her against earlier. This time, he folded her legs up and over her head.
“Grab your ankles, baby. I’m gonna take you for a hard ride.”
He didn’t need to instruct her twice. Despite her still trying to catch her breath, she reached her hands up, grasping her ankles and spreading herself open like the gift that she was.
Her bald pussy was drenched. She didn’t need any foreplay to ensure she was ready for him, but he leaned down to suck her clit into his mouth anyway, loving how she bucked her hips off the bench wildly as he latched on for the ride.
“Holy shit, that’s it! I’m gonna come!” she shouted loud enough for anyone walking in the hall to hear her.
Lukus released her immediately, drawing an angry growl from the little spitfire beneath him. Kneeling on the bench himself, he was done being patient. He needed to be inside her.
Their joint cry when he bottomed out would surely be heard by their neighbors. He set a fast pace, pistoning his bride so hard that he was losing his balance. He finally leaned forward over her, grabbing onto the armrest of the bench and using it as leverage.
“Oh shit… that’s it… Lukus! Fuck yeah… I love it when you take me like this.”
His breath hitched as he reminded her, “And I love your dirty-talk rants, baby.”
The wet slapping together of their bodies was the perfect soundtrack for their honeymoon. He knew from the ecstasy in her eyes that Tiff was about to fall into her orgasm just as the bench started rocking so hard from his thrusts that it was crashing against the footboard of the bed with a rhythmic crack, crack, crack.
Tiff started giggling first, but his chuckle wasn’t far behind.
“OMG, you need to stop. We’re breaking the hotel furniture!” she tittered, trying to lower her legs.
Lukus held her in place, refusing to let the racket deter him. “Who the hell cares?”
“I do! They’ll all make fun of us as the honeymooners who broke the bed having wild monkey sex!”
“Even better,” he answered truthfully. “Just wait until they hear you screaming like you always do when I fuck your ass later. Now… stop
distracting me, I need to…”
He didn’t get to finish his sentence. White spots filled his vision of his wife’s face as the first spurt of jizz left his body, buried deep inside her. Refusing to come alone, he found her puffed clit and pinched it, grunting, “Come, now!”
Tiffany arched her back off the bench, growling her own pleasure just as the banging of the furniture finally came to a stop.
Letting her legs fall around him, they both collapsed into a sweaty heap of limbs, each taking deep breaths as they came down from their high.
His wife spoke first. “I can’t believe how loud that was. I really do think we broke the bench.”
Finally possessing enough energy to lift himself up and look down into her beautiful face, Lukus teased. “I think we should head into the shower and see what we can break in there next.”
Chapter Four
Lukus
“Tiffany, come on! It’s already five after six. We really shouldn’t be late when we only have to take a flight of stairs to our destination.”
Not for the first time did Lukus find himself regretting agreeing to meet the owner of the club for happy hour. If he knew how to get ahold of the guy, he would have called off, but it was too late now.
Finally emerging from the bathroom, his wife was putting in a pair of large hoop earrings. How could he spend twenty-four hours basically sleeping, eating, and fucking the woman and yet still have the sight of her take his breath away? She’d put on a casual dress that on her looked anything but casual. Her long, blonde hair was in a messy up-do that looked like she’d just come from her salon.
“Christ, you’re gorgeous. How the hell did I ever land you?” He was only half kidding.
Stopping in front of him, Tiff dragged her manicured nail down the front of his dress shirt, a flirty look he loved in her eyes. “Don’t you remember? I told you that first weekend we met… right after you’d rocked my world—physically and figuratively—that you’d ruined me. After you, no other man would measure up. So… now you’re stuck with me.” She leaned up to give him a quick kiss, careful not to smear her shimmering lipstick.
“Lucky me. I wish we could stay in until it was time to go down to the club, but I guess I do need to find you some food. I need you to have plenty of energy later.”
“Oh goodie,” she deadpanned. “I’m super nervous about this new club. Maybe you should just go down and talk to the dungeon monitors on your own.”
It wasn’t the first time she’d mentioned it, but it would be the last. “Enough, Tiff. We are going. We’re going to play and have fun. Now, let’s go. We’re late.”
“Yes, Sir,” she answered, leaning down to pick up her tiny purse.
As they walked to the door, he confirmed, “You left your phone up here, right? When I signed all of the paperwork for the stay here at the club, it was super clear about no electronics allowed downstairs.”
“Yeah, it’s on the bedstand, but it’s a silly rule. I don’t like not having my cell with me.”
He didn’t say it, but the strict rules had seemed over-restrictive to him too, but the more he’d thought about it since reviewing the contract a few weeks before, the more he’d been considering reviewing the rules at The Punishment Pit. True, they’d never had a security problem yet with anyone breaking their confidentiality rules, but one couldn’t be too careful these days.
The first signs of life reached them as they got to the top of the grand staircase. Where the first floor had been dark and empty the night before, it was brightly lit with well-dressed patrons streaming in the front door, welcomed by the doorman.
They had no more arrived at the bottom step when they got their first surprise. Walking in the door, with a gaggle of photographers chasing behind them, was none other than last year’s winner of the Best Supporting Actor award at the Oscars. If that wasn’t exciting enough, the woman he had his arm wrapped around was that famous singer who’d almost died of an overdose the year before.
Tiffany leaned in to whisper after they’d turned in the opposite direction. “Did you see who that was? We really are in Hollywood, aren’t we?”
Lukus was pretty sure it was a fluke, right up until they walked through a library-like room with a six-person poker game already in progress. The fact that three of the six at the table were professional baseball players didn’t go over his head, although he suspected Tiffany wouldn’t notice. Yet, as they continued weaving through the open floorplan of the mammoth house, they saw more people who looked familiar.
It was when he got to the kitchen that he wished he’d asked more questions about the owner they were to be meeting. He was a damn private investigator. Why the hell hadn’t he done his homework on the owners like he had on Elijah, the Dungeon Master? He was just about to weave them over towards the chef in the kitchen to ask for help when a man taller than him approached them, his hand outstretched.
“Lukus and Tiffany Mitchell?”
Lukus worked hard to school his reaction as he reached out to shake hands with the man who looked like he’d just walked off the cover of a GQ magazine.
“Guilty as charged,” he said. “You must be the owner of this awesome establishment?”
“Guilty as charged,” the man parroted. “Jaxson Cartwright-Davidson. Welcome to Runway. Come, I have a table over here near the fireplace. It’s freaking freezing out. I can’t get warm.”
Lukus and Tiffany both started laughing as they followed Jaxson deeper into the dining room area, taking seats across the large table from their host. “To us, this is like summer weather. It was only ten degrees when we left Chicago yesterday,” Lukus shared.
Tiffany jumped in, “And my parents texted me that they ran into lake-effect snow driving home after the wedding. They almost got stuck in the eight inches of snow on the way back to Michigan.”
Their host whistled before adding, “Yeah, well I grew up in D.C. and still spend part of the year there, but never in the winter if I can help it.”
He had no more than finished his sentence when their host jumped up, rushing to approach a table of four across the room. Unsure what was going on, Lukus and Tiff glanced at each other first before turning to watch Jaxson ripping a cell phone out of the hand of a young woman who didn’t even look old enough to be in the club.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing with this in here?” he demanded, clearly not bothered by trying to keep the confrontation quiet.
“Oh, stop being such a prude, Jaxson. That rule is for the people who come here trying to get pictures of the rich and famous. I am rich and famous, and you know it.”
Lukus couldn’t wait to see how the owner handled the chick with the smirk all over her face. He didn’t need to wait long to find out.
Whipping out his own cell phone, Jaxson made a call. “Miguel, are you in the club today?” He waited, listening, before adding. “I need you to come to the kitchen right away. We have a security breach and I need you to escort Ms. Rawlings from the premise. Seems she is unable to be separated from her cell phone.”
He hadn’t even hung up before the troublemaker was on her feet, shouting back. “What the hell, you just used a cell phone so why can’t I?”
That was when she made her biggest mistake—slapping the front of Jaxson’s suit as she reached to snatch her phone back. His reflexes were lightning fast as he captured her wrist, yanking her hand away from him as he leaned closer. “Do you really want me to charge you with assault too?”
“Assault? I just…” Her shrill voice trailed off under the dominant glare of Jaxson. She actually wilted backwards when the owner was joined by a burly guy Lukus assumed was Miguel.
Within minutes, security had escorted the group out of the club along with the offending cell phone, and Jaxson retook his seat.
“Sorry about that, but I just couldn’t let that pass. It was the second time she’s been caught sneaking in electronics. Everybody thinks they are above the rules around here.”
Lukus didn’t
miss Tiffany’s gaze going to the floor, clearly happy he’d talked her out of bringing her own phone or perhaps it would be them getting thrown out by the scary owner.
Unlike Tiff, Lukus felt admiration growing for their host. He’d always felt accomplished to have not one, but two profitable businesses by the time he turned thirty. He wasn’t sure, but he wouldn’t be surprised if Jaxson was even younger than him and that meant he deserved serious props for building not one but two wildly successful clubs.
“I have to hand it to you,” Lukus finally said, trying to fill the awkward silence. “The suite you put us in is amazing. It has me totally rethinking the suites at The Pit.”
Jaxson took a drag of his cocktail while waving at a woman across the room to get her to notice before returning his attention to his guests.
“I’d love to hear more about your club. We’re doing well with clubs on both coasts, but I’ve wondered what the market is like in the Midwest.”
Lukus didn’t get a chance to answer because the woman who’d been standing in the kitchen in the chef’s uniform had joined them.
“Welcome back, Jax. I heard you guys flew in yesterday. I thought you might stay in Colorado longer.”
“Yeah, well Cash had to get back into town for some gig and since we were flying on his private jet, we sort of needed to catch a ride or book commercial.”
“Oh no! Not commercial! The horror of it!” the chef teased, clearly taking her life in her own hands by teasing her boss.
“Very funny,” Jaxson groused. Looking at Lukus, he thumbed towards the chuckling chef, “This annoying woman is our very talented chef, Avery. She is constantly forgetting that I’m her boss and could end her employment at any time.”
To Lukus the threat sounded legit, so when the dark-haired beauty burst out laughing, he was offended on behalf of his host.
“I’ve missed you too, boss. You know you’d miss me if I wasn’t here to give you shit.”
Finally cracking a small smile, Jax answered, “I wouldn’t mind giving it a shot.” Changing the subject, Jaxson asked Lukus, “What would you like for dinner? She may act like the sister I’ve never had, or wanted, but Avery does have skills. She also makes a mean Gibson, but we have a full bar so order any drink you’d like.”