I'd gotten him worked up first, trying to lose myself in his trust, in controlling his pleasure, but it hadn't worked. Well, it hadn't worked for me. He'd been practically shaking with need when I'd made him stretch out on the bed. I'd ridden his face, my desperation growing as his tongue and lips weren't able to get me off. When I'd finally rolled on the condom and lowered myself onto him, I'd resigned myself to leaving without being satisfied. I'd focused all of my attention then on making sure Edward found his release.
He moaned from beneath me, his eyes half-rolled back in his head. When I rose, he started to lift his hand. I caught it, squeezed, hoping he'd take the hint and not say anything. He smiled as he rolled onto his side. I brushed some of his dark hair back from his face, using the touch to make sure he was okay. Some subs needed extra aftercare, but we hadn't done anything particularly intense so I was thinking he'd be fine. When he nodded at me, I squeezed his hand again.
“I’ll take care of the room. Thank you.” I leaned down and kissed his cheek, leaving before he could ask me what was wrong.
I couldn’t tell him that I was miserable because nothing made me happy lately. It wasn’t his fault. I was pretty certain I’d given him what he needed, but it hadn’t done anything for me, and it wasn’t fair to him to make him think that any of this was his fault. Plenty of subs got pleasure from the actual submission and knowing it was arousing to their partner. Edward was one of those.
But I didn’t want anybody submitting to me right now.
I was tired of being in the driver’s seat. I just wanted an hour where I didn't have to think, didn't have to be in control. An hour where I could completely rely on someone else to take care of me.
When I stepped out of the hall, I was tempted to head for the door, go home and find my vibrator. If I closed my eyes and imagined really hard, I could make myself believe for a few minutes at least that somebody could give me what I needed.
Instead, I went to the dance floor.
I had to burn out this energy, and it looked like dancing was my only option. I threw myself into the music with sheer, reckless abandon, grateful to at least be able to shed the straight-laced image I wore most of the time.
A couple of hard-bodied, younger wannabes were there and they quickly surrounded me, keeping just enough space free that I didn't feel claustrophobic or threatened. I’d never be interested in joining any of them in a room, but for dancing? They looked like they could be a welcome distraction. When one of them came up behind me and lightly rested his hands on my hips, I let him.
If this was the only outlet I had, I was going to make the most of it.
Chapter 7
Arik
“Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. Porter?”
The soft, almost breathy voice coming from the doorway had me looking up from the reports and other files I had littering my desk. A few days ago, the glossy black surface had been clean, not even a paperclip out of place. Then Charles Sheldon had dropped by my office with his little bombshell, and my nice, neat organization had gone straight down the path of hell.
I didn't like that very much. I liked things to be exactly where I wanted them. I knew I had some control issues, but I also knew that was one of the things that made me good at my job. That and the fact that I was a bit of a workaholic.
The paralegal standing in the door smiled at me, her pretty face not showing any of the exhaustion I knew she must be feeling.
This case was a big one for the firm. Leayna was rich, well-known and her marriage had been almost as sensational as the death. All eyes were on us. I hoped I didn’t fuck things up. I’d been told any extra hours I needed from my paralegal were fine, and when I mentioned it to her, she’d told me she didn’t have any family or children, no boyfriend.
She’d hesitated on that last one, her voice trailing off.
At the time, I’d wondered if she had been trying to tell me something. Now I was sure of it.
She slid into the room, sauntering closer with a slow, deliberate walk. Ella Pott was a beautiful woman in her early twenties, and a sensual one at that. It was in the way she moved, the way she used her body. The way she watched people. I was usually a good judge of women, and I had a feeling she’d be a pleasure in bed. The way she was watching me now made me think she wouldn’t be put off if I invited her back to my place. She’d probably beat me out of the door.
Chestnut brown hair. Big blue-green eyes. Nice curves. She had a full, pretty mouth that looked slightly puckered all the time, almost as if she was waiting for a kiss…or to kiss something. I tried to imagine her on her knees, wrapping those pouty lips around my cock.
I felt sluggish interest, but nothing strong enough to warrant acting on it.
That was good though. I didn't want to fool around with someone I worked with, let alone someone who was technically working under me.
“No. I think I’ve got everything under control,” I told her, shaking my head. “I’ll be wrapping up soon, Ella. Have a good weekend.”
I hated that her shoulders sort of drooped when I said it. She was cute, but even if she hadn't been my paralegal, I most likely wouldn't have gone after her anyway.
She wasn't exactly my...type.
***
Since I'd come to New York, when I wanted to go out, I usually went to Club Privé, but I wasn’t in the mood for its sleek elegance tonight. I hit another place a friend from back home recommended. Leather and Laces was still a decent club, but the crowd was a little rougher than I usually went with. I was more into the control than some of the...other aspects of the lifestyle. Tonight, however, I was in the mood for something a little darker than normal.
A little less than a year before I'd moved, I’d had a somewhat regular thing going with a woman, and it had worked for us, but then she’d wanted something more like a relationship, and that wasn't something I wanted. I liked her well enough and the split had been amicable. I'd even been happy for her when I heard she'd found a serious boyfriend, but I never once regretted not ignoring my instincts and giving in. Relationships and I didn't work.
Since moving, I’d had a few encounters, but they had been brief and not particularly satisfying, nothing more than taking care of a physical need. The part of me that needed that extra...edge hadn't been sated.
Briefly, I thought about Ella, and knew she'd be willing, enthusiastic even. She might even be willing to learn about what I needed, but I wasn't in the mood to teach someone. Some men might've leapt at the chance to teach some wide-eyed newbie, but I wasn't one of them. I knew what I wanted, but I wasn't sure I'd ever find it.
Music pounded in the air, and I leaned against the bar, raising my voice to be heard so I could order a scotch. A brunette with a short cap of hair crossed my line of sight and paused, looking at me speculatively. A smile curled her lips, soft and hesitant, but the shyness was more for show than anything else. I could tell she was one of those people who came to a place like this looking for a thrill. She'd play a bit, then go back to whatever vanilla boyfriend or fiancé she had waiting for her.
I ordered another scotch before moving into the crowd. There was a stage to my left and people were setting up for some sort of show. I didn’t need to know what was going on to know I’d be bored. None of the displays that happened in the BDSM clubs had ever appealed to me. There were plenty who enjoyed the spectator aspects of the lifestyle, but I wasn't one of them.
I preferred to be involved. Once, I’d told a sub that spectator sports were fine for something like football, but anything else, I wanted to be hands on. It was like how I wasn't really into the whole humiliation and pain aspect of it. I had no issues with anything that happened between consenting adults, but it just wasn't me. I mean, a little spanking and punishment were fine, but I didn't go for any of the harder stuff.
Strobe lights pulsed in time to the music as I cut around the edge of the dance floor. I glanced over almost reflexively, and that was when I saw her. For one moment, she was clearly i
lluminated in the light, and that moment was enough.
She was slender, delicate. Yet the way she moved on the floor exuded confidence and strength. Three men crowded around her, and one of them reached up, his hand moving to her throat in a clearly dominant gesture.
A smug smile curled her lips. I watched as she reached up and caught the man's shirt, hauled him toward her as though they might kiss. Their faces hovered no more than a few inches away, and when he moved to close the distance, she pushed him back and spun around. Now with her back to the man’s chest, she caught his hands, guiding them to her hips.
A second man moved in. Her slim form was practically hidden by the two men for a moment, and then she slid out from between the two of them. When they tried to close her in again, she pressed her hands to their chests. There was something both playful and commanding about how she did it.
She was controlling every damn thing about the dance, and those two men – barely old enough to drink, I suspected – didn’t even realize how completely she was doing it. They clearly thought themselves dominants, but they were clearly no match for this tiny little thing.
Intrigued, and more than a little curious, I finished my scotch and passed the glass off to a nearby server without taking my eyes off the woman. Her eyes flicked toward me, and then moved back to her partners. Then, slowly, she looked back at me again. Her chin angled up, head cocked slightly to the side, as if she was reading me.
The smile on her lips tugged up at the corners just a bit as I moved closer, arching an eyebrow. She responded in kind, and moved away from the men she’d been dancing with. When they made to follow, she shook her head, and then looked back at me.
She caught her lower lip between her teeth and then let it roll out. I imagined her doing the exact same thing before I kissed her. She had an absolutely perfect mouth.
I made up my mind then and there that I was going to taste that mouth tonight.
I reached out as soon as she was close enough and settled a hand on her waist, slowly drawing her toward me. She came easily, and when I set my other hand on her hip, she did the same thing to me she’d done earlier. She brought her hand up and curled her fist into the front of my shirt. She didn’t pull me in or push me away, though.
She just kept her hand there as though she was still debating what to do with me.
Or maybe she was waiting for me.
The thought sent blood rushing south.
She'd been controlling those men, but the dominant in me had felt something else, and now I was thinking my instincts had been right.
Leaning down, I pressed my lips to her ear. “I'd tell you you're the hottest thing here, but I'm pretty sure you already know that.”
When I straightened, I found myself looking into the most gorgeous pale gray eyes I'd ever seen. I brushed my thumb across the curve of that delicious mouth. She slid her tongue out, almost as if she was tasting the path my thumb had taken.
My gut clenched. Fuck me. I'd never had such an immediate, visceral reaction to anyone before.
Normally, I wouldn’t kiss a woman within two minutes of seeing her.
But when she opened her mouth under mine, I knew it hadn’t been a bad call.
Chapter 8
Dena
His mouth...
Oh, damn.
His mouth.
I'd wanted him as soon as I'd seen him, watching me with those eyes that I now knew were a rich emerald green. He was handsome in a rugged way, not the usual pretty-boy or classically handsome men I usually saw.
But that wasn't the only thing different about him.
The hand on my hip slid up over my ribcage, tangling in my short hair, tightening and tugging, a slow rhythmic sensation that drove me to distraction even as his tongue pushed demandingly past my lips.
He tasted me before pulling back to rake his teeth across my lower lip. It was all I could do not to moan right there. Starving for a deeper kiss, I flicked out my tongue and he nipped at it. I shuddered and he wrapped an arm around my waist, tugging me in close against his hard, muscular body.
One kiss turned into two, and I went from clutching at his shirt with one hand to hanging onto both of his shoulders. All the while, he moved us off the dance floor and into a darkened corner. My back was to the wall, as he wedged himself between my thighs. I could feel his cock, already hard against me.
He let go of my hair, and I might have been disappointed, because he stopped kissing me too, but he didn’t pull away. His mouth moved down to my neck and I gasped as he raked the sensitive skin with his teeth.
He muttered something against my ear, but over the roaring of my own blood, the racing of my heart, I had no idea what it was. I wasn't even sure I cared.
The heel of his hand brushed against my breast. It was a light touch, not hesitant, but more like he was...feeling out the territory. I arched into his touch. He could feel out whatever in the hell he wanted.
My nipples tightened. Between my natural build and the style of the dress, I hadn't bothered to wear a bra. As his hand moved to cup my breast completely, I could feel the intense heat of him through the thin fabric.
I sucked in air, my eyelids fluttering, as his teeth teased the shell of my ear. The oxygen exploded out of me in the next second when he pinched my nipple between thumb and forefinger, twisting just a little before plucking gently. He repeated the move as he moved his mouth so he could speak.
“I want to push your dress up right now and sink my cock inside you.”
I managed to swallow my moan, barely. “Is that a fact?”
“Yes.” He lifted his head enough that we could see each other’s eyes.
Shit. I really didn't want to get my hopes up, but I was pretty sure I'd just found someone who could finally take care of me.
“We could be at a hotel in less than twenty minutes. In a room in under thirty.”
I wasn’t sure I could wait that long, but I'd do it if it meant I could finally have some relief.
Holding his gaze, I nodded.
***
He was right.
One of the beautiful things about New York City was that a hotel was within a stone’s throw of just about everywhere. Especially in Manhattan.
He'd taken us to one of the boutique hotels, a glitzy little place that spoke of the glittering glamour of the 1920s. The black and white art deco was gorgeous, and I probably would have taken a lot more time to appreciate it if I hadn’t been burning from the inside out.
I barely paid attention to anything as he checked us in, and even in the elevator, the only thing I really was aware of were the sliding doors before he turned and pulled me to him. One arm wrapped around my waist, settling his hand at the top of my ass.
His other hand came up and closed around my throat, his thumb nudging my chin up. “Open.”
I obeyed immediately, and a split second later, he was kissing me, filling me with a drugging, intoxicating sort of want. Not want. Need. Hunger.
Dazed, I thought this, this was what I'd been missing.
There was a muted beep as the doors slid open, and he pulled away. I barely had enough composure to walk alongside him as we found the room. I'd been kissed, fucked, manhandled, but I'd never had anyone affect me the way he had.
I managed to maintain that thin composure as he unlocked the door, and we moved inside. As he relocked the door, I looked around the room, checking it out. Nice, but not so opulent that it was disconcerting.
When he turned to me, I inhaled slowly. The blood rushing in a heated frenzy through my veins was making it hard to think, but thinking was still required. Things had to be said before this could go where I wanted it to go.
I took another breath and kicked off my shoes before moving over to the small bar service and taking a bottle of water.
“My name's Arik.”
As I cracked the bottle open, I slid him a small smile. “Dena.”
He took a step forward, and stroked a finger down my bare arm. I noticed earlie
r that his hands were callused, and now the roughened pads of his fingertip felt delicious against my skin.
I shivered, feeling that heated need swelling inside me again. Deal with the practicalities first, girl. I had to admit, he was the first man who'd ever made me almost forget.
Taking a drink of water, I turned away and walked over to the bed, taking a seat on the edge before looking back at him. There was always a bit of nervousness with a new partner, adding an edge to the excitement that some people enjoyed. I actually didn't. I liked to be sure of things. I was a pretty good judge of character, but anyone who didn't have at least a bit of anxiety was either lying or an idiot.
“Are you going to go first?” I asked before I took another sip of water.
He gave me a crooked smile that made me like him even more. It was real, that smile. “My mother raised a gentleman. By all means, go ahead.”
“I snapped a picture of you,” I said without preamble, staring at him levelly. “It’s on my phone. It’s also on my cloud storage. If something happens to me, I have friends who know how to access my account.”
I waited to see if he understood what I was getting at. After all, a girl couldn't be too safe, no matter what she was into.
A grin curled his lips and he nodded. “That’s smart.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “Although, just when were you able to get a picture of me?”
I touched my tongue to my lips. “I have my ways.” With a shrug, I added, “Also, my phone has password protection. Don’t try to get in it.”
He continued to smile, but a look of appreciation entered his eyes. “You really do have this all thought out.” He paused for a moment, then spoke again. “Don’t worry, I’m just looking for a sub for the night. I’m not some raving psycho, but I appreciate your candor. Once the night is over, can I assume you will delete the picture?”
More than once, I’d had men get pissed over my little speech. I only did it when I left a club with a stranger – and that didn’t happen often – but if a guy didn’t understand my need for caution, then he wasn't getting anything anyway.