Brent stood by the bar, keeping a close eye on things. There were a couple of tame scenes playing out, one which involved some spanking and another across from him that was nearly all wrapped up since the male had his female bent over the table and was fucking her ruthlessly and with the obvious goal of blowing his load. His gaze slid back to the spanking scene.
His gut clenched remembering the stings and burn of Chaya’s hand connecting with his ass and the deep satisfying throb afterward.
Jesus. Focus.
He glanced around the room again. Everything was the way he liked it.
The rules were simple: You could fuck in the main club, but anything beyond a spanking had to be conducted in one of the playrooms. They were his rules, for his benefit. He didn’t like to be watched, and he sure as hell didn’t want anyone seeing what he did to get off. Not even the subs he forced himself to take into the playrooms knew how he got off, if he chose to, since he blindfolded them before he came.
Pulling his phone from his pocket, he checked his email. Nothing.
At least no more videos had been posted. But he felt like he’d come up against a brick wall. For now, he had to wait for Garrett’s next move. Not a position he enjoyed being in.
He was ready to do something drastic, because he wouldn’t be happy until the bastard was bloated and rotting at the bottom of Roxburgh Lake.
The scent of sex hung heavily in the air, and he took a moment to calm his frayed nerves. Closing his eyes, he fed on the euphoric emotions swirling around him. Shit, it felt good.
Tingles moved over his skin as he zeroed in on the female who called to him every minute of every damn day. His body heated as soon as he felt her, his breathing growing heavier, his stomach tightening.
He snapped his eyes open when he felt her move closer. She didn’t look his way, and he didn’t know if she’d seen him on the other side of the bar or if she was tormenting him on purpose. She was laughing with some of the other staff members, joking and smiling. The female was exquisite and tempted him in every way.
When he went up to his apartment later, like she’d ordered him to, would she follow? Or had she come to her senses?
Could he stand by and let her walk out the door if she had?
One of the other waitresses came up beside her and said something that made Chaya throw her head back and laugh. His cock hardened, pulsing along with his now racing heart. Fuck, he loved that. How she threw everything into all she did. Full of energy and joy and beauty.
No, he realized he couldn’t let her walk away. Not now.
Not yet.
She turned away to face the dance floor, her long dark hair swaying as she danced by the bar, waiting for her order to be filled. It took all his strength to stay where he was. The urge to walk over to her and beg her to take him up to his room now, this minute, pounded through him with the beat of the music. Eric, one of the guys working the bar, leaned over and touched her shoulder to get her attention. Brent had stepped forward, a growl rumbling from the back of his throat before he could stop himself.
His reaction was extreme since the guy was only handing over the drinks she was waiting on, but he’d learned the other night, when he’d almost beaten another male to death, that he had no control when it came to Chaya.
Except when she ordered him to. That thought made his already hard dick harder.
And it had only gotten worse after seeing her tied to that cross with that fucker standing over her. Every bit of his restraint had crumbled away. He didn’t know what that meant or if he could rebuild his defenses. For her sake, he hoped so.
With his control slipping further with every passing second, he turned away, retreated to his office, and shut himself away. He couldn’t think clearly when Chaya was near, and he could no longer stand there counting down the hours until her shift finished, wondering if she’d follow him up to his bedroom or not.
He buried himself in paperwork, did his best to keep his mind occupied until there was a knock at the door. It opened and Eric poked his head through. “I’m heading home, boss. John’s arrived for the next shift. I’ll catch you tomorrow.”
“Yeah, thanks.” Eric ducked back out and closed the door behind him.
Brent looked up at the clock. Eric and Chaya were rostered on for the same shift, which meant she was finished as well. Nerves and anticipation throbbed through him.
He stood and left his office. The club was still busy when he walked through, the music following him as he headed out the back, through the door to the small hall, and up the stairs to his apartment. God, please don’t let her change her mind.
A short time later, Brent sat as instructed at the foot of his bed, a fine sheen of sweat coating his bare skin.
He’d left the door unlocked for her.
Fifteen minutes had ticked by. And still she hadn’t come.
The place was silent, utterly.
His cock throbbed painfully and his gut was in knots.
Fuck, please, let her come.
But then he heard it—the door to his apartment closing, the soft snick of the lock being engaged. He sucked in a relieved breath as the faint scent of vanilla hit him.
She was just outside his bedroom door.
What was going through her head? Was she nervous? Turned on? Both?
Several minutes passed before the door was pushed open, and it took everything in him to keep his head down and not drink in the sight of her. He could see her feet. Those boots.
Motherfuck.
He wanted to see what else she was wearing and what was in that bag she held down at her side, nice and low so he got a look at it, so he knew whatever she carried in it was meant for him.
He didn’t speak. He waited, let the anticipation of what was to come build. He wasn’t sure he could even if he wanted to with how tight his vocal cords felt. There was a clatter and a thunk as she placed the bag on the side table.
The muted sound of her boots on the carpet as she moved around the bed came next and then she was standing in front of him.
Chaya stood, feet slightly apart, not a twitch or a sound for several long minutes. All he could do was breathe her in—vanilla mixed with the heady aroma of aroused female. Christ, he was positive he could feel the heat radiating off her.
The female made him crazy. Jesus, she’d had him running around in circles from the minute he met her, constantly pushing him, challenging him. He realized now how much she’d needed this, that she’d been seeking it out the only way she knew how, whether she was aware of it or not. They’d been dancing around each other. Silently screaming for what the other could give them.
Because Brent sure as fuck wouldn’t drop to his knees for just anyone. Christ, Chaya had come alive when he had that first time.
And the only place he wanted to be right then was exactly where he was.
Her breathing had grown heavier, as had the scent of her arousal.
And finally, finally, she slid a finger under his chin and tilted his face up so he could see her. She was flushed, eyes bright. As hungry for him as he was for her. It was written all over her lovely face.
“You have no idea how much you’ve pleased me tonight, Brent.” She licked her lower lip and he felt it across the head of his cock. “Last night I showed you a little of what I expect from my sub. You misbehaved and you were punished.” The pulse at her throat beat steadily. “And tonight you’ll be rewarded for your obedience.”
The muscles in his thighs tightened and his cock felt impossibly heavy. A growl of need was there, crawling up the back of his throat.
“Are you ready, sub?”
“Yes, Mistress,” he murmured.
She took several steps back so he finally had a better view of her. While she stood outside his door she’d obviously changed. She was wearing a garter and panties in electric blue, paired with black stockings and a black corset. She took his breath away.
Her gaze dropped to his dick and there was no mistaking she liked what she saw. Her head tipped to the side a little, then her eyes came back to his. “Have you been thinking about tasting my pussy again?”
The growl did come then. Christ, there was no holding it back. “Yes, Mistress.”
Her gaze remained firm. “Good.” She reached down and ran her fingers lightly over her lace-covered pussy. “Do you want me to use that big cock of yours, Brent? Do you want me to ride you until you can’t take another second?”
He groaned. “I could fuck you right now if you wanted me to. Fuck you so hard you’d come screaming my name in minutes,” he said, so turned on he forgot himself completely.
She moved in, slid her fingers in his hair, fisted, and shoved his head back. “Is that the way you speak to your mistress? Did I ask for your opinion?”
He almost came then and there. “No, Mistress,” he choked out.
She stared at him narrow eyed. “Looks like you’ll need punishing after all.” As he swayed forward, she stepped back. “On your hands and knees. Now.”
He didn’t speak because he hadn’t been asked a direct question and quickly did as she said, anticipation buzzing through his veins. She was a fast learner. Chaya had him fucking on the verge of coming and she’d only been in the room fifteen minutes.
He wanted his punishment and his reward. He wanted it all.
She moved around him slowly, but unlike last time, she didn’t touch him. “Are you okay with ass play?” she said into the silence.
Brent swallowed the boulder that had formed in his throat, and his ass clenched. “Yes.”
She moved away and he heard her at the bag on the bedside table, taking something out, then she came back. “You have such a stunning ass, Brent, I’ve been thinking about decorating it all day.”
She ran her finger through the cleft, and he shivered.
There was a soft noise, and when her finger was back, it was slippery and warm. She massaged his hole with lube, preparing him, making him squirm and push back. Christ, wanting her to push one of those fingers inside him.
Then she did, slow, just a little at first, and he gasped, a moan escaping immediately after.
She hummed her approval and slowly pushed deeper, giving him more until she was leisurely fucking his ass with her finger and he was trembling.
After tormenting him for a while longer, she added a second, stretching him, hitting that spot inside him, bringing him right to the edge. He couldn’t help himself and humped back against her hand desperate for more.
“Fuuuuck. Oh fuck. Fuck me. I think I’m going to come, Mistress.” It was the closest he’d come to orgasm without pain in four years.
“No, you won’t, not until I tell you to.”
After a few more leisurely pumps of his ass, she removed her fingers and he actually fucking whimpered. But a second later something hard and slick was at his hole. She pushed it in steadily until the butt plug was all the way in and he was panting, sweating, and shaking.
Chaya smoothed her hands down his back. “You took that so well.” She moaned softly. “But that’s just the beginning. You’ve been bad, remember? This fine ass needs to be paddled.”
Oh God, oh fuck. He wouldn’t survive it.
His arms started to shake.
“Are you ready, Brent?”
No. But somehow “Fuck yes” burst past his lips.
“You were very disrespectful. I’m going to paddle your ass eight times. And you will not come, Brent, not until the last strike. Do you understand?”
“Yes…Mistress,” he choked out, not knowing if he could. Because he could feel that plug in his ass, stretching him, pressing against his prostate, and he hadn’t even fucking moved yet.
“One,” she said.
The leather paddle connected with his ass, low across both his cheeks, and he jolted forward. He groaned as the plug moved inside him.
“Two.”
He rocked forward again, gasping for breath.
“Three.”
His cock slapped against his stomach, the plug making him insane as he moved back into position, as he fucking tilted his ass, silently begging for the rest.
“Four.”
Fuuuuuuck.
She moved around to the other side. “Five.”
“Please, oh fuck, I need to…”
“Six.”
“Fucking shit. Fuck.”
“Seven.”
He was shaking so hard his arms gave out.
“Eight,” she said, sounding breathless.
The last made contact with his ass and Brent’s hips jerked. The sound of the paddle hitting the floor came next then she took his balls in her hand, giving him the pain he still needed to come. She applied pressure while she used the palm of her other hand to press down on the plug in his ass, forcing it a little deeper. He fucking shuddered and started fucking the air as he came so hard he had no idea which way was up. Deep, wrenching pulls that didn’t seem to have any intention of stopping.
He vaguely heard Chaya over his own moans and cries.
“That’s it, come for me,” she said. “Just like that.”
God, her huskily spoken words just made him come harder.
Finally, after what felt like forever, the last shudder moved through him.
He lay there helpless, head resting on his forearms, ass still in the air, as she stroked his sweaty skin, as she gently removed the plug from his ass, causing another wave of pleasure to course through his spent body.
Her hand went between his thighs and she wrapped her fingers around his flaccid cock, massaging, stroking. It should be impossible, but he started getting hard again the moment she touched him.
“Get on the bed, Brent,” she said softly. “Lie on your back and spread your arms and legs for me.”
He’d do any damn thing she wanted. He couldn’t get enough of her, wanted only to please her, serve her. He climbed to his feet on shaky legs and crawled onto his bed.
“Very good,” she said and went to the bag on the dresser again and pulled out two sets of leather cuffs. Each was attached to a length of chain that could be attached to his bed frame.
She secured the chains to each corner of the thick wooden head and end boards then fastened and buckled each cuff around his wrists and ankles, making sure they weren’t tight enough to cut off his blood supply, but that he couldn’t get free. “You look good enough to eat like that. Leather suits you.”
He’d never brought anyone up to his apartment before. He’d definitely never been tied down to his own bed like this either. Images of the video he’d seen of himself earlier flashed through his mind, but he forced them out. That didn’t belong here. What they were doing didn’t resemble the ugly shit he’d done in that room.
This felt right. Honest. This was where Chaya belonged. In his bed.
Fucking owning him.
The playrooms weren’t for her. Because who he was when he stepped through that shiny red door, cold, emotionless, a fraud…he didn’t want Chaya to be part of that.
He watched, damn near drooling as she slowly undid her corset and let it fall to the floor. Her bare breasts bounced free, full and soft, and he grunted and tugged at his restraints, desperate to touch. She was left in her garter, panties, stockings, and boots, and he nearly swallowed his tongue when she crawled up between his spread thighs, skimming her hands over the arch of his foot, up his calves, and across his thighs. The chains clattered against the bed again when he tried to get to her.
“Are you ready for a taste of me, Brent?”
He was trembling now. “Yes. I need you…please.”
Jesus. She was killing him.
She slid higher up his body and straddled his face, but up on her knees so he couldn’t reach her. Then she reached down, and that was when he saw the slit in her panties. She used her fingers to part the fabric, revealing her pretty pink pussy to him, then she traced her drenched folds, opening herself up, exploring, forcing him to watch and not touch or taste.
“Sit on my face, Mistress.” He wasn’t even going to pretend that he wasn’t begging. “Please.”
She grazed her clit, and her thighs and belly quivered beautifully. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.
She circled her opening and his hips surged off the damn bed. She played, tormenting him until he was trembling with need.
Her soft whimpers turned to sharp cries.
“Please. Please, Mistress,” he begged, shaking harder.
“Please what?” She gasped as she increased the pace of her movements.
Jesus fucking Christ. “Please let me taste you. Come on my face, against my mouth. Please.”
A moment later, she gave him what he wanted, removing her own hand and lowering herself onto his mouth. He chased it, lifting his head as best he could, sucking and licking, shoving his tongue inside her. She ground down on his face and, throwing her head back, broke apart for him. Her body bowed hard, her cries filling the room.
The chains rattled as he lifted his head, following her, staying right there, lapping her all up, every delicious taste she gave him.
Her hands were on the headboard and she rocked her hips against his mouth until she’d worked every last tremor from her body and slid off him, collapsing beside him all boneless, sexy female.
He watched, waited for her to open her eyes, and when she finally blinked up at him, he knew he looked feral by the satisfied smile she gave him.
“You’re very good at that,” she said as her eyes traveled down his body to his painfully hard cock. “I left you hard last time, didn’t I?” She grazed her fingernails over his nipple. “I could do that again, or…”
All he could do was shake his damned head.
“You want me to fuck you, don’t you, Brent?”
“More than anything, Mistress,” he rasped.
“Usually that admission would have me walking out the door, leaving you wanting, anticipating, until next time I had you tied down and hard. But I promised you a reward, didn’t I?”
He wanted inside her so bad he would die if she left him like this.
She climbed off the bed and he barked out a protest, but she didn’t leave. No, she removed the rest of her clothes until she was completely naked. All creamy, soft curves. The sexiest, most beautiful female he had ever laid eyes on.
Then she climbed back on top of him and slid her hands up his chest.
She sat there on top of him, so damn beautiful he ached.
Chaya leaned in, her luscious mouth hovering an inch above his. He reveled in that first mingling of breath, the way his hitched when the tip of her tongue darted out, moistening the plump crimson flesh of her lower lip.
He realized she hadn’t kiss him yet, and he needed her to more than anything in this whole damn world. He hadn’t kissed anyone since before becoming a demi-demon. With Chaya, he’d been afraid that if she did, if she offered him that intimacy, he would go to a place he could never return from, and at the end of this she’d take the last of his humanity with her. That she’d take what remained of his heart.
But he would never, could never turn away or deny her what she wanted, what they both wanted.
Cupping his face in her small hands, she closed the gap, brushing her mouth against his. Oh fuck. He indulged in the smooth, soft texture of her lips. She moaned and opened her mouth, sliding her tongue against his in an undemanding way while still controlling the kiss, while they explored each other’s mouths, their taste.
He knew instantly he’d made a huge mistake. One taste and he was addicted to her more than he already had been. He was dizzy from it. There was no going back. He would never get enough of this. The way she moaned, the way her lips grew even softer, swollen, the more she kissed him. The taste of her desire, the gentle warmth of her mouth against his.
When she finally pulled away, he made a sound of protest, lifting his head, trying to follow. He watched as she sat back, drawing in a shaky breath as she took a condom from her bag.
Jesus. This is happening.
She tore it open and rolled it down his hard length.
Finally—finally—she moved back, and holding his cock in her hands, positioned him between her spread thighs.
She glanced up at him then sank down.
His hips jerked up all on their own and they both moaned when he filled her to the hilt. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. There was no warm-up; she was as hungry for him as he was for her. She lifted up almost all the way and came back down. She screamed and he could feel her inner muscles already fluttering around him. Dipping her head, she sucked hard on one of his nipples, grazing it with her teeth and nipping.
Gasping and grunting, he fucked her back, unable to stop from slamming his hips up to meet hers. He pounded into her, getting lost in the feel of her wet pussy clamped tight around him, the heat of her skin burning against his.
Her mouth dropped open in a silent scream.
“Oh fuck, that’s it,” he gritted out.
Head thrown back, she sucked in a startled breath and came a second later, crying out, shaking almost violently from her release. She fell forward. Sweat slicked their skin, their bodies sliding together as he continued to pound up into her. His balls were drawn tight, skin prickling, tingles radiating out from his lower spine and the base of his cock.
So close, so damn close, but as always, just out of reach.
He needed pain—oh fuck, he still needed pain. He hated himself, but he thought he might die if he didn’t finish inside her.
Like she could read his mind, she slowed the roll of her hips and reached out, freeing his wrists. Before she could lift back up, he buried his face against the side of her throat, drowning in the sweet scent of her hair.
“What do you need?” she said softly against his ear.
“Put your hands on me,” he rasped. “Let me feel your nails in my skin.”
She rolled them so he was on top of her, and those soft, warm hands were on him in a second, moving over his back as he thrust into her. When he felt her pussy start to spasm around him for the second time, he nipped her earlobe. “I need your nails, your teeth.” Then he slammed into her again, brutally. Her nails sunk into his waist, her teeth into the muscle of his shoulder.
The shot of sweet pain was enough, and he roared, shuddering against her as he came hard and deep inside her. But it wasn’t pain, it was pleasure that took him over.
Chaya had given him that, and she had no idea how huge that was.