The man behind me continues to work out the knots and tightness across my shoulders, his big hands spreading heat and goosebumps wherever he touches, occasionally switching it up between deep digging motions and soft, teasing caresses.
By the time the couple in the stage have been lifted into the air, suspended by endless twists of red silk, and wrapped sensually in one another’s arms, I’m breathing quickly, my stomach twisted into delicious knots as desire courses through me. My pulse is a rapid drumbeat against my ribs. I’m so aroused by both the scene before me and the man behind me that if I pressed my thighs together hard enough, I could probably unravel from the friction of the seam of my jeans.
His hands still, then he wraps one around my throat and tugs me backward against his hard chest. I gasp, anticipating what he might do next, how he might touch me. The massage, though wonderful, isn’t nearly enough. I need his handseverywhere.
My breasts, my stomach… down between my legs—
“Have you touched yourself since we last spoke?”
I give my head a subtle shake.
“Don’t lie to me.”
I swallow hard against his palm, then give one curt nod.
He growls low in his throat. “Bad girl,” he whispers, his voice so low and growly that I barely hear the words.
I try to turn my head, but he keeps his grip firm around my throat, immobilizing me. He swivels the chair just enough so that our backs are to the room, the performers and patrons blocked by his massive frame. I stare into the dark corner as he places his other hand against my belly, low and firm. I gasp as heat rushes south, pooling between my legs and adding to the pressure building in my core. I came completely undone for this man while he held me firmly, just like this, and though I’ve tried and failed to recreate that feeling in the days that followed, he’s sent me right back to that precipice in just a few short moments.
It’s impossible that he should have such control over my body, but I can’t deny that he does.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Max
I’ve never been involved with a submissive outside of the club, and any relationships I’ve had have never crossed over into this aspect of my life.
With Sutton, the lines are blurred, but that doesn’t mean I should encourage her to break the rules. She’s moments away from coming, and as her Dominant—fuck, I love the way that sounds—it is my job to move her to a place where she can chase that feeling without breaking club rules or doing something she might regret later on.
“Come with me,” I say, and she quickly obeys, slipping off the barstool and allowing me to take her by the hand and lead her down the hall, away from the presentation.
And away from prying eyes.
No one gets to see what she looks like when she unravels for me.
Now that she’s mine, her orgasms are as well.
Her pleasure, her pain… all of it mine.
By the time we’ve reached my private quarters within the club, she’s practically floating, loose and pliable. Ready for whatever I have to give.
Unfortunately, as this is our first official night together, what I have to give her are rules, explanations, boundaries, and a whole slew of other technicalities.
As long as I’ve known her, I’ve never seen this woman fully relax. It’s a shame she’s so pent up, even more so that my plans for tonight involve teaching her the ropes, walking herthrough the rules of my world—not giving her the orgasm she so desperately craves.
Keeping the lighting low and soft, I stay quiet as I follow her, giving her time and space to peruse this room and the attached, my private play room.
She runs her fingers over a few instruments on the wall, then drops her hand and looks back at me over her shoulder with wide, questioning eyes.
“Speak your mind.”
“Can I touch these?”
“Yes.”
She’s a vision, that’s undeniable, and seeing her here, in my private quarters within The Rabbit Hole, is an entirely new aphrodisiac all in itself, but I have to remember that this isn’t Sutton Hart finally agreeing to be my girl. This is a woman, a submissive, looking for a Dominant. I will be that for her, but it means keeping my own needs and desires in check. Keeping my feelings for her separated so I can offer her the control that she so desires.
She reaches up and pulls a leather crop from the wall, then slaps it gently against her other palm.
