Confessions of an Alli Cat

  Oh my god.

  Oh my god.

  What have I done?

  I’m in a freaking sex nest!

  I’m too old for this shit.

  Then the blindfold is taken off.

  And I am surrounded by luxury. By heavy, expensive furniture. By thick and cushiony duvet covers and pillows. By opulent decorations in crystal and mahogany. By sheer normalcy in this room.

  Sheer.

  Freaking.

  Normalcy.

  I’m shocked.

  And I must look it, because Shade turns to me and laughs.

  “What?” he grins. “Were you expecting something else?”

  “Yes,” I admit. “I don’t know what. But not this.”

  “Perhaps this?” Shade suggests and pushes a button on the wall. A door on the ceiling slides silently open and a sex swing drops down, dangling at the edge of the bed.

  I gulp as I realize that it looks like a noose… a noose that I’m probably going to hang myself with.

  “Maybe,” I answer.

  I examine it closer. It’s terrifying. It looks like a contraption of torture, like something out of Morticia and Gomez Addams’ bedroom. The harness is lined with cushiony velvet. But it still doesn’t look comfortable. And maybe not even legal. I gulp again.

  Shade laughs again.

  “Nervous?”

  I nod.

  “Don’t be,” he tells me, his voice buttery smooth. He moves closer to me and I unconsciously step back. He grins again. And I suddenly feel like a lion and its prey. “We don’t have to use it. Yet.”

  Shade throws back his head and laughs and I am once again reminded that I am the visitor here. I am the prey, he is the lion. This is his stomping ground, his Serengeti. He knows what he’s doing and I don’t, even though I’m almost twenty years older than he is. Probably.

  I narrow my eyes.

  “How old are you?” I ask.

  Shade stops laughing and examines me.

  “Oh, now, Alli,” he murmurs, taking a step toward me. “Age is just a number, you know. I promise you that tonight, my age or even your age, will be the last thing on your mind. In fact, hopefully, when I’m finished with you, you’re going to have a hard time remembering your own name.”

  I have to smile at that, right after I pant for a second. But I gain control, turn to Shade and grin what I hope is a calm and confident grin.

  “Oh, really? You’re that sure of yourself?”

  Shade shrugs. “I have to be. If you don’t believe in yourself, no one else will do it for you.”

  “That’s a good point,” I nod. “Very mature.”

  “I’m very, very mature. Now come here,” he instructs. “Tell me what you’d like.”

  My heart pounds so loudly that I’m sure he can hear it from there. Hell, Canada can probably hear it. I blink hard then take a step.

  “I was married for fifteen years to a guy who was luke-warm in bed at best. I honestly don’t know what I like.”

  Shade puts one beautiful finger against his mouth, which is also beautiful, and appraises me silently for a moment.

  “Hmm,” he finally says, his cobalt eyes twinkling. “It sounds like you need me to show you want you want. And you’re in luck. Because here at Utopia, we have a 100% Customer Satisfaction policy. That means that I must do everything in my power to make sure you’re satisfied. In every way.”

  Shade stares at me, his gaze intense and sexy and mind-blowing.

  He takes a step forward.

  I take a step back.

  Lion and prey.

  Lion and prey.

  I’m like a little wounded gazelle.

  In stilettos.

  And that means that I can’t run.

  Fuck.

  I pant again.

  “You’re fine,” Shade assures me softly, watching me and appraising me while probably plotting how to capture me. “Why don’t you sit on the bed—I’ll be back in a second.”

  He turns around and steps into a room that I didn’t notice before. It has to be the bathroom. He pokes his head back around the corner.

  “And you might want to make yourself comfortable.”

  He’s gone again.

  Make myself comfortable?

  What does he mean by that?

  Take my clothes off??

  Good Lord. I glance down at my outfit which feels like it has shrunk two sizes in the last two minutes- probably due to the fact that I can’t seem to breathe. I probably shouldn’t have worn shapewear that is thick enough to hold in a middle-aged guy’s beer gut.

  Holy shit.

  The shapewear.

  Why did I wear freaking shapewear??

  I scramble to get it off. I can’t have beautiful and perfect Shade undress me and find this hideous beige undergarment. I’d be too humiliated to ever look at him again, much less orgasm under his very skilled fingers.

  And I’m just guessing about that last part- but I’m certain that he’s skilled.

  He’s a professional, after all.

  Did I mention HOLY SHIT?

  I fly into motion and kick off my stilettos so that I can unpeel the fricking shapewear from my mildly damp torso. I can’t believe I’m sweating. I’m sure that the perfect and gorgeous Shade never sweats. And all the thinking about sweating makes me wonder if I smell.

  Hell.

  I’m just lifting an arm to do a quick whiff test, when Shade comes walking out of the bathroom.

  Oh, freaking perfect.

  He grins and acts as though he doesn’t notice that one of my arms is in the air, my nose is buried in it and the other arm is caught half-way through the tight armhole of my industrial-strength-glorified-girdle.

  Sweet Jesus.

  And Shade’s tuxedo is gone now. He’s wearing only the black slacks. His chest is bare and sculpted and perfect. And rippled. And it sort of glistens in the soft light. OhMyWord. I instantly want to lick it.

  Holy Freaking Hell.

  Shade saunters over to me and gently grabs my wrist, the one that is attached to the arm in the air, and lowers that seemingly paralyzed arm for me. As he does, he slides his nose along the skin of my forearm.

  “You smell delicious,” he tells me.

  I want to melt into the floor. Both because he knows what I was doing and because his voice is so to-die-for-sexy. I look at him and he stares back unapologetically.

  “Don’t be self-conscious,” he instructs me calmly. “About anything. That’s rule number one. All inhibitions should be left at that door in order for you to have the most fulfilling experience possible.”

  “All of them?” I ask, thinking about my flying squirrel arms. Shade nods.

  “All of them.”

  “And there are rules?” I ask, somewhat nervous about that fact. I wasn’t shown a rule-book.

  “Only a few.” He peels my thick elastic underwear down and I step out of it. He throws it into the corner of the room with a disgusted look on his face.

  “Rule number two: Don’t wear that ridiculous shit again. You don’t need it.”

  He looks down at me, his gaze appreciative as he runs his fingers along my newly bared torso. Goosebumps form where ever he touches.

  “You’re perfect.”

  “I’m paying you, so of course you’re going to say that,” I point out. He smiles, a grin full of mischief and cockiness.

  “True. But I’m always honest,” he tells me. “Always.”

  And then he shoves me onto the bed.

  I go flying, sprawled unceremoniously on the thick cushiony duvet.

  “What the hell?” I sputter. And then I am instantly overwhelmed again by the beauty of his rippled chest as he climbs onto the bed, like an agile jungle cat, toward me…up and over me. I feel slightly overpowered. I sort of like the feeling.

  “You need someone to show you who is boss,” he says seriously. “I think I have you pegged, Alli. You’ve been the caretaker, the decision-maker and the wonder woman for too long. You
need someone to make the decisions and to take care of you.”

  “You’ve gathered all of this in ten minutes?” I ask, not wanting to acknowledge that he is 100% correct.

  He nods. “You’re easy to read.”

  Shade moves with all the agility of a leopard as he positions himself above me, the skin of his forearm pressed against the skin of my side. I try not to hyperventilate as I stare into his blue, blue, blue freaking eyes.

  “And I’m going to take care of you,” he promises. “Every inch of you.”

  Oh. My. God.

  I can’t breathe.

  Shade dips his head and without any preamble at all, he buries his face in my cleavage as he reaches beneath me and unsnaps my black lacy bra. And then he discards it next to the bed and licks a circle around my nipple.

  “Ah!” I cry out and grab the pillows next to me. Shade smiles against the skin of my breast, his mouth widening, moving… then sucking.

  “Oh my god,” I can’t help but whisper. It’s like every nerve ending in my entire body is on fire right now- on def-con-five hyper alert and actually, they might implode. Or explode. Or whatever it is that over-charged nerve endings do. I might stroke out, actually.

  I gather my courage and release the pillows, instead stroking the silky skin of Shade’s young and muscular back. Holy hell. Rick the Dick was never built like this- not even in his prime. Not even in his dreams when he was in his prime.

  Must not think of Rick the dick.

  Must not think of Rick the dick, I chant silently. But honestly, it’s not something I have to repeat for long. My attention is focused solely on this perfection in front of me.

  And then, before I can trail my fingers down to Shade’s perfectly chiseled ass, he is grasping both of my wrists in his hand and clamping handcuffs on each one, binding me to the headboard.

  What the hell?

  I look at him in alarm.

  He stares back calmly.

  “Allison, you’ve been a caretaker for too long. Tonight, I’m going to take care of you. But I’m afraid that if I don’t restrain you, you’re going to try and focus on taking care of me. Trust me, I’ve got that. Before the night is over, you’re going to scream my name- many times over. But if at any point you want me to stop or you want these handcuffs taken off, then I want you to yell out pineapple.”

  I stare at him. “Pineapple? Why?”

  “Because it’s something I like to eat,” he shrugs. “Are your handcuffs too tight?”

  I wiggle my wrists, testing them. The padding on the metal is thick and comfortable. So I shake my head. “No.”

  “Do you trust me?” Shade smiles. His smile is sort of wicked. And I sort of like it. It makes me feel sort of wicked, too.

  “Yes,” I answer. I don’t know why, but I do. He wouldn’t have repeat customers if he wasn’t trustworthy, right? I nod for emphasis.

  “Good. Is there anything that you absolutely do not want me to do?”

  I think on that. Well, I think on that as well as I can with him balanced above me. He’s slightly distracting.

  “I don’t think so,” I finally say. “I don’t know of anything that I already know that I hate. If you do something, I’ll tell you. Deal?”

  “Deal,” he grins. I’m in love with his grin. I want to find a luxury apartment in SoHo or some equally cool neighborhood and co-habitate with it and have its little grin babies. That’s how much I love it.

  Shade palms my ribs with his large hands, the warmth of them erasing the goose-bumps that had formed there. He grasps my sides and pulls me up, arching my back. Staring into my eyes, he bends his head and licks a circle around my belly-button. His tongue is warm and soft. In fact, it’s probably the only soft thing on his entire body. Except for his hair. He has great hair. And why am I thinking about his hair?

  He drags his tongue in a trail up my abdomen towards my breasts, but instead of stopping there like I expected, he continues to my neck. He nuzzles it, then kisses it. Then licks it. Then sucks it. I am moaning by this time. Who knew that the neck was such an erogenous zone? Holy cow.

  He moves to my ear and pays the same attention there, then continues to my mouth. By this time, I am ready for his kiss. I want his tongue in me. Anywhere in me. But right now, I’ll settle for his mouth. His mouth crushes mine, in a kiss that is not gentle, but it is certainly consuming. I can’t breathe by the time his tongue is finished exploring mine.

  “Do you trust me?” he asks again, staring into my eyes. I feel flushed and hot and disheveled. I nod.

  “Yes.”

  “Good. I’m going to blindfold you again. And you’re going to like it.”

  I nod. “Yes. I think I will.”

  Shade laughs, a low chuckle. “I know you will.”

  He pulls the blindfold over my eyes and the room goes black. I am instantly remorseful of only one thing. I can no longer stare at Shade. That’s regretful, for sure. I can’t stare at him and I can’t touch him. I’m not so sure about this blindfold business.

  Until he starts lapping at my inner right thigh.

  My heart pounds in time with his tongue.

  “You have exquisite legs,” he says softly. “You must work out.”

  I can’t answer because I am busy panting.

  I feel so completely dominated right now—blindfolded, handcuffed. And for some reason, it feels liberating too. I’m trusting this person enough to explore this with him. And I might be crazy. But I love it.

  But not as much as I’m about to.

  His mouth covers my clit, his lips closing around it like a vacuum.

  And my hips instantly and with a mind of their own, buck against him.

  “You like that, little kitten?” he murmurs. And then he starts licking. And then there’s a finger involved, sliding in and out and holy-freaking-damnation. What have I been missing out on for the entire rest of my life prior to this moment?

  I am soaking wet now. I can feel the liquid, the moisture, pooling between my legs, but he licks it away; lap, lap, lapping. And I am riding exquisite waves of something awesome. That is the only way to describe it. All of those stupid romance novels that I used to read that described orgasms as riding waves of pleasure? They were so freaking right. And to think that I’d stopped reading them because I thought they were unrealistic.

  “You’re so tight, Alli Cat,” Shade whispers, sliding his finger in me. At the same time, he is finessing me with his tongue. And I might seriously die. And I love that he just called me Alli Cat.

  “Hold your breath for a minute,” he instructs me. “You’re going to come. And it will make it better.”

  I do as he says.

  And he’s right. I come in the next moment and holding my breath made it better.

  I release a shaky exhale, falling limp against the bed.

  And then without warning or any kind of clue whatsoever, other than a brief metallic rustling of foil, Shade is sliding into me. His penis is thick and long and full and I gasp. I wish I could clutch him and hold on, but my arms are still secured to the bed. So I lock my legs around him and pull him as close as I can.

  Shade smells heavenly, like fresh air and male and cedar. I inhale him as he rides me. He slides in and out quickly, then he slows down. Then he speeds up. Then he slows down. It’s excruciatingly exquisite.

  He freezes, hovering with the tip of his penis at the apex of my thighs.

  “Say you like my cock,” he tells me, his voice hot in my ear. The word is so naughty and I’ve honestly never said it out loud. But I don’t hesitate now.

  “I like your cock,” I tell him.

  “Say you fucking love my cock,” he answers. His breathing is just a bit ragged.

  “I fucking love your cock,” I whisper.

  He rams into me; hard, harder, harder.

  “Scream it,” he instructs raggedly.

  So I do. And it feels liberating. I always felt so repressed, so self-conscious with my ex-husband. Screaming obscenities while a
beautiful man fucks me feels amazing. So I do it again. And again. And again.

  Shade was right. By the end of the evening, in fact, by only halfway through the evening, I am screaming his name.

  Chapter Four

  (Or: Another glimpse into Shade’s Male Mind)

  Shade

  Allison’s body is tight and hot and nothing like I expected. But then, I’ve come to realize that nothing in this line of work is ever what I should expect.

  And for that, I should be thankful.

  I’m going to fuck Allison into the wee hours of the night.

  And for that, I know she will be thankful.

  **End cohesive thought here as all blood is diverted away from the brain and into the male head that is not capable of significant thought**

  Chapter Five

  (Or: It’s a Great Day for an Attempted Murder)

  Alli

  I wake up feeling….satisfied.

  Since it is Saturday, I don’t have to roll out of bed and rush to the shower in a bleary-eyed haze. I lie still and lazy, staring up at the ceiling, remembering last night.

  Holy. Shizz.

  Memories of Shade’s lips trailing over my entire body fill up my mind. His fingers were everywhere, fondling, touching, pulling, kneading.

  I gulp.

  I never ever ever knew that fucking could be like that. And it was fucking. You can’t call it making love when there was no love involved. But it was soft and sensuous, then hard and rough, then soft again. I swallow hard, my fingers touching my neck. At one point, after Shade released my handcuffs, he fucked me from behind and held me in place by the back of my neck.

  It was hard and rough and primal.

  And I liked it.

  What is wrong with me??

  I push off the covers and step over my going-out clothes that I had discarded on the floor. I slept naked for the first time in a very long time. Actually, make that ever.

  There is nothing wrong with me, I decide as I stare into the mirror and brush my teeth.

  I’m a healthy, red-blooded female. I like sex. I have every right to explore this new side of me. .I scrub my teeth vigorously as I debate internally with my conscious.

  I don’t need to feel guilty. I did nothing wrong.