by Lily Harlem
He slid in another inch, spreading his flavor—man and musk and a hint of salt.
She wrapped her tongue around his girth, holding him with it.
He released his cock and took hold of her hair again, gripping it tight. He moaned and pushed in another inch.
“That’s it,” he said. “Take my cock in your mouth so deep, so deep I’m part of you.”
She strained toward him, eager for more. Giving oral sex hadn’t been one of her favorite pastimes with previous partners, but damn, with Kane, she wanted more, she wanted all of it.
He withdrew, then pushed back in. Saliva coated his cock and dripped onto her chin.
She tipped forward, then leaned back.
“Keep still.” His grip tightened in her hair and he held her steady. He pumped his hips, fucking her mouth as though it was her pussy. A low groan rumbled up from his chest.
She tasted a drip of pre-cum and went to move her arms, wanting to grab his ass, cup his balls, touch him. But the belt reminded her that she was tied—psychologically if not physically. She stilled.
Sweat collected in her cleavage and her pussy was damp with arousal.
“Yes, yes, like that, with your tongue,” he said, his voice ragged. “Keep going… Jesus Christ…”
She continued with the soft dragging suction she’d created on the base of his shaft.
“Oh, fuck, you’re going to have to swallow, sub,” he said, then gasped.
He was coming—she could feel it. She was so excited stars danced behind her closed eyelids. Her pussy clenched and her clit was swollen.
A shot of cum hit the back of her throat. She swallowed it as he continued to thrust in and out of her mouth. She felt used but also adored. It was her—her body that made him feel this way.
He groaned and his cock pulsed in her mouth. “Keep… taking me,” he said, pulling completely out, then smoothing back in so deep her nose nestled in his pubic hair. “All of me.”
She did, taking him until his balls nudged up against her chin and he filled her throat. She wasn’t sure, but a small tremble, not unlike an orgasm, glided over her skin. She was his, completely his in that moment. She hoped he thought of nothing else but her. Her mouth, her tongue, her throat. Surely making his millions was the furthest thing from his mind right now.
“Thank you,” he said, pulling out and once again tipping her head to look at him. “You pleased me very well.”
She pulled in a couple of quick breaths. Her lips felt stretched and tight at the corners. Her chin was wet. “I’m glad.”
He smiled. “Sir.”
“I’m glad, Sir.” Her heart swelled—it wasn’t love, was it? But there was something big building between them. A connection of souls, attraction so deep it didn’t need words.
He reached for his clothing. Tucked his dick away and snapped up the zipper on his trousers. After stepping behind her, he untangled the belt from her arms.
“How do you feel?” he asked, walking in front of her and slotting his belt back into place.
Imogen studied the floor again and thought for a moment. “I feel… like my mind is clear. Not as much now the belt has gone, but everything faded away when you were in control.”
“I’m still in control.” He sat on the sofa opposite her.
“Yes, Sir.” She looked at him.
“Yes, you may raise your head,” he said, stretching his arm over the back of the seat and smiling, just a little. He crossed his right ankle over his left knee. “And what are you thinking?”
“That I feel satisfied. Like I did last night.”
“Good, if you feel like that, then your first lesson has been a success.” He paused. “But I always knew you’d be a good student.”
“Student?”
“I hoped you’d be this keen to learn. Let’s just say nothing about you, Imogen, has ever disappointed me and I hope it stays that way.”
She had a sudden feeling that he might not just be talking about sex and kink, that there were undercurrents to his words. Kane had become a man she wanted to please in every aspect of his life. She couldn’t deny it any longer; she was falling fast, faster than a rock in a puddle.
“So, food,” he said. “Shall we get room service?”
“Whatever pleases you, Sir.”
He smiled. “You can go and get dressed, Imogen. I’ll organize something for us to eat.”
Imogen stood—her knees were stiff.
“Are you okay?” he asked, leaning forward as if about to stand.
“I’m fine, really.” She held up her hand. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
She walked toward the bedroom, acutely aware of her naked backside. She felt almost like she was gliding. What they’d just done… it was so erotic, so utterly different to anything else she’d ever experienced in her sex life. It stoked a fire and created a hunger in her. Kane Ward had opened her mind and her body to a new way to be, and there was no going back now.
He’d changed her forever.
* * *
Imogen removed the basque and pulled on underwear, jeans, and a white t-shirt. She splashed water on her face and brushed her hair. A feeling of calm settled over her. She hadn’t been spanked, as she’d been prepared to be, but Kane had taken her to a new high. She couldn’t imagine anyone but him taking her there. She wouldn’t drop to her knees and open her mouth for any other man. As for swallowing, she’d enjoyed that too, had loved every bit of it.
He was special, she knew that, and he was also worming his way into her heart.
When she wandered, barefoot, back into the living area, Kane was on the telephone, staring out of the window by the piano.
“Yes, I understand,” he said. “Completely, which is why I want you to do exactly as instructed.”
Imogen poured a glass of water from a pitcher that had slices of lemon floating in it.
“The CEO will give us what we want,” Kane went on. “He just needs a little more pressure, then he’ll cave. It’s the best thing for his company at the end of the day. Without us propping up the assets while he rides this storm, it’s the end of Global Tech Limited and he loves that company.” He paused. “Damon, I get that you’re concerned, but I’m not. Do as we discussed.”
Imogen sipped her water and studied his broad shoulders and the way his white shirt had stretched between them. He stood with his feet hip-width apart, and she took a moment to enjoy the view of his ass. It had been so good to grip it the night before. She hoped she’d get the chance to again soon.
“Okay,” Kane said, “so that’s settled. I’ll expect you to call by tomorrow afternoon with the deal in the bag. Take him for dinner tonight as planned, put the squeeze on, let him know he can trust us after he’s signed on the dotted line.” He was quiet for a moment. “Perfect, great choice. Yes, I’ll speak to you tomorrow, go do what you’re good at.” He clicked his phone shut and turned.
“Problems?” Imogen asked, sitting on the chair and folding her legs beneath her.
“No, not at all.” He smiled. “I have one more call to make, is that all right with you?”
“Of course.”
He pressed a couple of buttons on his phone, then held it to his ear. “How are you?” He’d grinned as he’d spoken. “Yes. I’m in New York, you know I am, but obviously not at my place.” He laughed at the reply. “Four Seasons, but it’s not too shabby.”
His voice held a different tone to the last call; he was more relaxed and pleased to be talking to whoever was on the other end of the line. This wasn’t work.
“How about tomorrow evening?” He glanced at Imogen. “And I’ve got someone I’d like you to meet.” He listened to a long reply.
Imogen smiled. It must be his brother he was talking to.
“Well, seems like it will be a table for four then,” Kane said. “I’ll have my PA book us something and she’ll let you know.” He laughed. “Yeah, see you then.” He placed his phone on the side.
“Who was that?” Imogen aske
d, resting back on the cushions.
“That,” Kane said, placing his hands on the arms of her chair and leaning over so their faces were close, “was my brother, Taylor. We’re going out for dinner with him and his new lady tomorrow night.”
“You really want to introduce me to your family already?” She raised her eyebrows and gave him a cheeky smile.
“I told you,” he said, kissing her. “I’ve waited too long for all of this and I’m not a man who likes to wait; if I’m honest, it’s tested my patience.” He touched his lips to hers. “Now that it’s finally happening, I’m struggling to not let it just explode.” He paused. “Besides, it feels so right, doesn’t it?”
She touched his cheek. “Yes, it does.”
A softness spread over his features. “I’m glad you feel that way too.”
“I’ve waited for this as well, Kane. There’s been a spark between us since the first time we met.”
“Yes, it was ignited by that tight red skirt you wore that showed a fraction more thigh than is proper for a bank manager. It had me hard enough to hammer nails in that first meeting.”
She gasped. “It was not… you were not.”
He laughed. “Why would I lie?”
“Because…” She giggled. “I like that skirt.”
“So do I.”
“I can’t wear it for work now that you’ve said that.”
“No, I don’t think you can. But that will suit me to know it’s for my eyes only.”
She smoothed her hand down his neck and rested her fingers on the collar of his shirt. How would this work out in the future for them? Kane spoke like there was more, like they’d be an item, but he was rarely in London. His meetings at the bank were months apart; he spent most of his time jetting around the globe. Yet her job was very much office-based—central London office-based.
“What’s up?” he asked, a slight frown marring his brow.
“Nothing, nothing at all.” She smiled. “Did you organize food?”
“Yes, sushi, is that okay?”
“Mmm… perfect.” It was one of her favorite things to eat.
* * *
They sat at a mahogany table overlooking Central Park and dined on delicious smoked salmon nigiri, prawn temaki, and tuna sashimi. The suite’s private butler had placed a bottle of pale white wine in an ice bucket, and when he’d left them alone, Kane poured them both a glass.
“This is wonderful,” Imogen said, gesturing at the food, then the view. “Perfect.”
“I’m glad you think so.” He expertly captured a stray grain of rice in his chopsticks. “You like to travel. Where else have you been?”
“I’ve seen a bit of the US with work, skied in the Alps and spent some time in Spain with my friend, Clarris. Other than Thailand this year, that’s it.” She helped herself to another sliver of salmon.
“I’d like to show you more of the world.”
“I’d like that.” She smiled at him. “Clarris went to Japan with work last year; she said I’d love it.”
“What does she do, Clarris?”
“She’s a journalist.”
He nodded slowly. “Do you see her often?”
“Yes, she lives next door. She has a little one, Katie; she’s adorable.”
“Pretty name.”
“She’s a pretty girl.”
Kane was quiet.
Imogen wasn’t sure if he was thinking about Clarris’ work as a journalist and wondering if that could have implications for him, or if he was thinking about Katie, about having children of his own.
“Do you want a family one day?” she asked.
He jerked his head a little, as though surprised by her question. He quickly composed himself. “Do you?”
“Yes. I think so. But not the way Clarris did it. She fell pregnant on a one-night stand with a married man. She’s on her own one hundred percent. Well, she’s got me, but it’s not the same.”
“That’s hard.”
“Yes. She told the father, but he wanted nothing to do with either her or the baby. He said that his wife was also pregnant and she was his priority and they were going to make a go of it.”
“Bastard.”
“Yes, we called him that, and more.” Imogen shrugged. It had been a very difficult time for Clarris. “But you didn’t answer my question.”
“No.”
“No, you didn’t answer my question, or no, you don’t want kids?”
He looked out at the skyline. “I do want children. I’d love to have a son or daughter to pass everything on to; it would make all of this, my achievements feel more solid, worthwhile, I suppose… but…”
“But what?”
“But I feel…” He rubbed his eyebrow with the tip of his finger. “I only ever do anything if I’m sure I can do it perfectly, and having kids and trying to stay on top of the business, could I do both?”
“I suppose that’s a question every parent asks themselves. Both are full-time jobs.” She took a sip of wine. “Which is why some people say two parents are better than one, it doubles the available time.”
He looked back at her. “I’m away a lot. I’m barely in London.”
“I know.”
“I’d hardly even know where to base a family.” He shook his head. “It took me so long to be able to schedule this, us.”
“Schedule?”
“Yes, I could hardly seduce you on a conference call.” He laughed. “It took quite a bit of planning to get you here, with me.”
“I don’t think I was that hard to catch.” She thought of how he’d tricked her into going to the races.
“I’m not sure if I’ve caught you yet.” He reached for his drink, took a sip, and studied her over the rim of his glass.
You have. “Anyway, I didn’t mean that I wanted to have your babies next week,” she said, then laughed to lighten the mood. “I was just curious as to what you saw in your future.”
“Curious is good.” He set down his drink and glanced at his watch. “Which brings us to the next part of our evening.”
She raised her eyebrows. “That sounds interesting.”
“We’re going back to the club.”
“What, now?”
“Yes. It’s all arranged. Did you get something else to wear or are you planning on the same dress as last night?”
Imogen’s heart rate picked up. She hadn’t expected to be slipping into her sexy all-in-one outfit so soon. “Yes, I got something.”
He smiled—one of his smiles that went right to his eyes and sent creases shooting out from the corners. “Good. We’ll leave in one hour.”
Chapter Twelve
Kane pressed the buzzer on the door and spoke into the small meshed speaker. “Red Queen.”
Imogen pulled the long beige coat around herself and glanced left then right. It wasn’t yet dark and being on the streets of New York in her super-sexy outfit made her self-conscious.
The door opened. Aisha stood in the small hallway in yet another skintight PVC dress, this time bright green. “Master K,” she said. “What a treat to see you twice in as many days.”
Kane took Imogen’s hand and stepped in. “Thank you, Aisha.”
She held out a long chrome key. “I have instructions to leave you alone.”
“There is no one else here?” Kane asked, taking the key.
“No. The club is completely empty. I’m the last one. If you lock this door only you can let anyone else in.”
“Good, that is what I’d arranged with Master Dean.”
Aisha smiled. “I hope you enjoy your time here.” She glanced at Imogen—there was more warmth in her smile than there had been the day before. “And your sub experiences what you want her to.”
“Thank you,” Kane said. “I’m sure she will.”
Kane slotted the key in the lock, his action signaling it was time for Aisha to leave.
She took the hint and, pulling a small black purse over her shoulder, headed out.
&nb
sp; Kane shut the door and turned the key.
The click of metal sliding into place rattled around Imogen’s head. Kane had arranged to have the entire club emptied, just for them? Excitement spun through her mind as nerves fluttered in her stomach.
“Now,” he said, reaching for the belt of her coat. “You can be really honest about what you see here, tell me everything that goes through your mind, what interests you, what excites you.” He released the knot and pushed the material from her shoulders. “I want to know what you’d like to try and what you think your limits would be.” He hung her coat on a hook, then added his light jacket next to it.
He was wearing a black shirt and neat black jeans that accentuated his height, slim hips, and wide shoulders.
“How long? I mean when…?”
“We can stay as long as we want to. Sub Space won’t be open tonight.” He surveyed her body, seeing her outfit properly for the first time.
“Because of us?”
“Yes, because of us. I didn’t think you’d want an audience, not yet anyway.”
Her mouth was a little dry. She swallowed.
“Don’t be so worried. You want this, you told me so, you’re curious.”
“Yes, I am.” She tilted her chin. “And I’m not worried.” She nodded at the door to the room they’d went into the day before. “Are you going to put your velvet jacket on?”
“No. I’m your master; you don’t need to see the stars on the jacket to remember that.”
“You have them on your body.”
“Exactly.” He reached for her hand and led her down the narrow corridor they’d used yesterday to get to the bar area.
Once more, Imogen stared at the women in the pictures bound by rope. There appeared to be real art to the knots and symmetry in the design.
“Beautiful, aren’t they?” Kane said.
“Yes, very.”
“It’s called shibari, an art form that can take years to perfect.”
“Can you do it?”
“Of course.”
“Oh, okay.”
“Would you like me to tie you like that?” He gestured to the picture next to them.
It was of a woman with black poker-straight hair. She was bound over her chest so that her breasts bulged forward, swollen and bloated. The rope went around her waist, between her legs and down to her ankles. Her arms were behind her back—Imogen guessed they were also secured—and she stared at the camera with a defiant expression.