by Sierra Hill
He took a picture with me at the Eiffel tower, and we saw the exterior of Notre Dame, the Arc de Triomphe, and the pyramids in the courtyard of the Louvre. I studied these places in high school, but never had the real-life experience to see them for myself.
My first-time in Paris was nothing short of perfect, punctuated by the fact that I got to spend it with the most handsome and beautiful man.
And now as we take the train back to Antwerp, I can’t help but wonder if Faron will take me to the club tonight and fulfill his promises.
With my head on his shoulder and my hand wrapped around his arm, I lift my head to ask him what’s on his mind.
“Will you take me to the Rough Edge tonight?”
My heart pounds in my chest, with anticipation and nerves over his response about taking me back to his private club, hidden inside The Edge nightclub veneers.
He snickers down at me. “Did all the things I said I wanted to do to you there pique your sexual curiosity?”
I nod briskly, eagerly. “Yes. But you mentioned something about sharing me.”
There’s a lump in my throat the size of a mountain, and I’m throwing this question at him without really knowing my own personal feelings about it. Did I want to be shared physically? Would I feel used and vulnerable? Or is the idea of being with other men while Faron watched or vice versa, appealing to my newfound kink awareness?
“I recall this…I would like that very much.”
I worry my lips, hiding my face from his probing gaze. “Do you want to watch someone else…fuck me?”
“Absolutely not. Over my dead body.”
“Then what do you mean by sharing me?”
Faron inhales a heavy breath and pinches the bridge of his nose. There’s a moment of silence and then he sighs.
“It would make me happy to involve others in your sexual experiences. To give you pleasure using various sexual practices. And to do it in the presence of others.”
And then my final question rattles him even more than the others. He goes visibly stiff next to me when I say, “Could we invite Roman and West?”
Chapter 22
We return to Antwerp that evening. Faron worked on the train and I napped after nearing exhaustion from the arduous day of walking the streets of Paris and only a few hours of sleep last night.
But the time we spent together today was romantic, and no matter what happens from here on out, it is something I’ll cherish for the rest of my life. Although Faron hadn’t shut down completely when I brought up interest in his brothers, there was a noticeable emotional distance that had been created by the time we stepped back inside Faron’s home.
“I’m going to the office to make a few phone calls. Why don’t you get ready for tonight? We’ll have dinner out and then I’ll take you to the club.”
“Okay,” I reply, climbing the stairs with an armful of shopping bags from the spree Faron took me on in Paris. “What time should I be ready?”
I stop midway up the stairway and glance back down to find Faron staring after me, his face indiscernible. I worry that I’ve somehow made things uncomfortable between us. Me and my stupid mouth. I should have been fine with having Faron all to myself.
“I’ll be back here by nine-thirty. And Gemma, I’ve made arrangements for your flight home. You leave tomorrow.”
It hits me square in the chest, the words as sharp as an axe being thrown at a target.
I frown, my brows pinching together. “You what? You’re sending me home so soon?”
He seems antsy for me to leave. “Yes, we’ve already discussed this. The sooner the better so we can finalize things and get what we came for.”
Something in my brain shuts off. I can’t seem to find the words to ask for further clarification. Didn’t he just claim me as his? And now he can’t get rid of me soon enough.
My heart drops to my toes. It feels battered and bruised, clinging to life support from a man who runs hot and cold and basically just gave me my walking papers.
I’m about to ask if he means he’s coming with me or I’m going alone, but he’s already left the room, heading to the garage door out the side of the house. Leaving me behind as if it’s the easiest thing in the world to do.
Dumping out all the articles of lingerie and clothing he purchased me today, I sift through the pile, pulling off tags and choosing the perfect outfit for the club. Articles from La Perla and Agent Provocateur scatter across the bed in a rainbow of colors and styles.
As I step out of the shower, I try to decide if I want to dress to make Faron extremely jealous tonight or if I want him to beg for me to stay.
This time I don’t have Serene to help me get ready, and I wonder if she has the day off or maybe she’s on holiday. Either way, I curl my long auburn hair and let it cascade down my back in sexy, loose waves.
Better to grip and pull.
Oh God. All I can think about now is sex.
What is it about Faron and this new brand of kink and fetish lifestyle that resonates so deeply with me? Last night, he educated me on the various types of BDSM, fetish roles and sex toys used to stimulate and arouse during sex, providing both pain and pleasure. And then he even demonstrated on me, not only with the light bondage, but also clamps on both my nipples.
I touch my nipple through the silk of my robe, the sensation running straight to my clit that throbs in memory of his actions. Picking up the black lace and fishnet teddy, with its plunging V-neckline that opens to expose my cleavage and belly, with a built-in choker collar and G-string in the back, I pair it with fishnet stockings and lacy gloves with ribbon restraints, and I feel incredibly sexy. And naughty.
As I look in the mirror, I plump my cleavage together with my arms pressed to my side. The strip of lace cascades from the collar barely covering my nipples, my tits firm and full. And then I bend over to check how it looks in the back.
There is nothing left to the imagination in this lingerie set, the G-string pulling tight in the crease of my butt. I can’t wait for Faron’s reaction when he sees me in it. And the slap of his hand against my backside that’s sure to follow, leaving a nice red mark from his handprint. Or whatever instrument he decides to use.
Slipping on the long-sleeve, short, red sheath dress, it hugs my body like a glove, accentuating every round curve and my full breasts that are eager to be touched and sucked.
It feels like I’ve transformed into this new woman. Back home, I would hide my body, afraid of what people would say and what they would think when they saw me. But all I want to do now is flaunt what I have. Make Faron’s mouth water and his cock hard when he sees me enter the room and make him so hot with lust that he’ll bend me over his knee and swat my ass, telling me how his dirty slut has turned him into a horny beast.
I smile at my reflection and then practically jump out of my skin when his voice startles me out of my fantasy.
He stands close behind me, his hot breath at my ear.
“You are the very definition of cock tease in this dress, little girl. Every man that sees you will fantasize about being inside you,” he observes, a hand trailing up the back of my leg and landing between my thighs where he strokes a finger over the new panties. “But they will only get to watch, touch and maybe even taste.”
He slides the panel over my mound and glides a finger through my damp folds. I bite my lip, but the moan escapes anyway, my body yearning for everything he gives me. And then his finger breaches my entrance, plunging it inside my aching pussy.
“But I’m the only man, Gemma, who gets to be inside you. Do you understand?”
I nod emphatically and a sinful smile stretches across his face as he withdraws his finger, leaving me bereft.
“Good girl. Now come on, I’ve made arrangements that I think you’ll agree with.”
Sliding my hand through his crooked elbow, we head down the stairwell, where we stop in the foyer and he presents me with a box.
“Open it.”
This is the firs
t gift I’ve ever received from a man. The box is sealed with a bow, which I slide off and open the lid. Fishing around the tissue, my fingers land on a piece of leather. Faron takes the empty box from my hands as I lift the diamond-encrusted white neck collar, a small loop and lock in the front.
In our discussion last night, he mentioned the use of collars in the club worn by subs to represent they were taken and had a Dominant who they belonged to.
“I’d like you to wear this tonight.”
I examine the soft fur lined interior of the leather accessory, my brain spinning with questions and confusion.
The collar represents a relationship of sorts. Boundaries and training, the forging of an ongoing union. Domination and ownership. But it’s contradictory to the fact that he’s sending me away tomorrow. Letting me go back to the U.S. without a definitive answer as to whether he wants me to return.
“Just tonight?” I question, my thumb skimming over the jewels in the ornate band.
His gaze flits away from me, his hands fisting at his sides. A tight tick in his jaw appears, visible even under the dark stubble of his five o’clock shadow, which never seems to disappear even after he’s shaved.
Faron takes two steps closer, removing the collar from my hands and holding it between us before he lifts his eyes back to mine.
“I started slow with you, Gem, as inexperienced as you were. And it was good. You were so good. But I want to show you other ways…to do things to you…” He scrubs a shaky hand over his face and breathes a heavy sigh.
“This represents you are MINE in the club. You obey me and only me. You please ME. I choose what brings you pleasure and what pain to administer, no one else. This,” he emphasizes, rattling the collar in his hand. “This gives me the responsibility and your permission to do that. And it will make me very, very happy.”
I take the final step into him, turn around to kneel in front of him as I lift my hair from my neck, giving him my consent.
“Then I will gladly wear it, sir. I am yours.”
Chapter 23
As it turns out, when we got to the club and Faron pulled Rome and West aside to tell them what I wanted to do with them tonight, West indicated that he was busy and excused himself to go take care of business.
But Rome, in all his sexy playfulness, jumped right on board.
“Well, it looks like my night just got much more interesting,” he says with a flirty wink, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me in to place a kiss on the top of my head.
A growl springs from Faron’s chest, as he unlocks Rome’s hand from my hip. “Not until I say so. Go get a drink and meet us in the Amber room in twenty.”
I lift a curious brow to Faron, who looks pissed off, as Rome steps away with his hands in the air. “Okay, whatever you want. Don’t get your prissy panties all in a wad, jackhole.”
Rome swats my ass as he flounces away, leaving me next to a surly Faron.
My fingers automatically reach for the collar around my neck. “Are you feeling okay about this?”
His terse response is opposite of the words he responds with. “Yes, why?”
I motion with my head toward the direction Rome heads off in. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe just the jealous tone I detected there with your brother.”
He shakes his head. “He didn’t have to be so handsy. He’ll get his turn.”
I stifle the giggle in my throat, reaching for his hand and lifting it to my collar. “This means I’m yours, sir. Just like you said. I’m open to whatever you want to do with me. Share me. Don’t share me. Fuck me in private or in public. I just want to make you happy.”
It’s as if my words were the key to unlocking his mood, as his snarly frown turns into a soft smile and he pulls me in close with his finger in the ring in the collar.
“You make me crazy with desire and I suppose I’m letting that dampen our night together. I’m just not used to feeling this way about my…” He stops, dropping his hand and stares off into the crowd.
“Your what? Lovers? Submissives?” I press.
Our eyes connect and in it I see something I haven’t seen before – fear. But I don’t know what he could possibly be fearful of when it comes to me.
“Please, sir. Take care of me tonight.”
He inhales several deep, measured breaths, lips tight in thoughtful concentration. And then his eyes narrow, growing pitch dark with need.
“Go wait for me on your hands and knees in the Amber room. Dress off and everything else remains on. You are to keep your eyes directed at the floor.”
My stomach dips and flips, the excitement palpable and erotic energy unfolding in me as I get my first taste of his dominance tonight.
“Yes, sir,” I respond dutifully and turn to make my way through the club doors and into my den of iniquity for the night, lust rolling through me with such force my knees nearly buckle.
Entering the room, the scent of amber is soft and faint, and I get my first glimpse of the room’s atmosphere. Similar to what I saw the other night with Rome’s threesome, there’s a large bed with assorted hanging leather straps and shackles. Next to it is a table full of toys and instruments that seem to range from subtle pleasure to high intensity pain, as well as a swing of some sort hanging in the middle of the room, along with a spanking bench.
A shiver runs down my spine, tingles of anticipation, as I wonder what Faron might decide to use on me tonight. As he mentioned, he started off slow with me, and I know there’s so much more he can do in the grand scheme of things to experience his sexual dominance.
There’s a plush rug in the middle of the room where I drop to my knees, taking a look around me before I get the nerve to remove my dress.
It’s liberating. Like shedding a layer of skin. Or stepping from my adolescence to adulthood.
I feel coolly confident in myself as I slip the dress off over my head and discard it on the bench next to the bed. While it’s not cold in the room, goosebumps appear on my arms and legs, reminding me that I’m nearly naked, save for the tiny scraps of lace and silk covering my breasts and pussy.
Taking a fortifying breath, I bend forward and place my hands on the floor in front of me, my ass presented to the window behind me. The prospect of being watched by faceless voyeurs behind the frosted glass is titillating.
I don’t know how much time has passed – it could be five minutes or thirty – but soon a door opens, and someone walks in behind me. Because my head is bent hanging between my shoulders, I can’t see who it is. I want to ask, but I need permission to do so and I don’t want to be disobedient.
My breathing accelerates as I hear him root around on the table, picking up one item at a time and returning it in its place until he seems to finally find something he likes.
He stands behind me so I still can’t see his face, straddling me with one long leg on each side, and then his hand comes beneath my chin, lifting my head up with a quick jerk. With his other hand, he links a chain around the center loop of my collar, securing it with a click and then a tug.
I part my lips on a pant, my panties flooding with wetness even from just this innocuous action.
“Your safe word, little girl?” It’s Faron’s voice and it ignites every nerve in my body.
He’d discussed safe words the other night and the importance of having one ready in the event anything we did became too much for me to handle or bordered on a trigger. I assured him nothing he could do to me would push me too far, but he made me pick one.
“Diamond.”
He gives a yank of the chain and then drops it to the floor. “Good girl.”
Behind me he returns to the table, milling around for something until his deep voice commands that I comply.
“Get on the bed, spread eagle.”
“Yes, sir.”
I hop up on my feet and move to the bed, climbing on and immediately laying on my back, stretching my arms out in a V shape above my head, legs spread. I’m sure I look like a human X. Faro
n slowly comes around, first one side and then the other, restraining my wrists and ankles with the soft, leather cuffs that are attached to the bed posts.
“Twist your wrists to make sure they are secure but not too binding.”
I do as he asks, feeling confident I won’t lose circulation.
And then he picks up a black blindfold and steps up to the bed close to my face, pushing the satin material over my head and covering my eyes. Everything goes dark and I suck in my breath.
I listen hard to figure out what’s going on when I hear the sound of the door opening and closing, and bare feet padding over the floor toward the bed. There’s whispering, but I can’t catch what’s being said.
A few moments go by and then I’m startled when I feel the soft lick of leather being dragged over my exposed cleavage, down my belly until it rests over my pubic mound.
Snap.
The swish of the flogger is lightning fast and then there’s a sting between my legs, and echo of my harsh rasp as it leaves my lips.
The rush of acute pain is followed by three more quick snaps and then someone’s tongue sliding over my lace-covered pussy.
A groan of lust is followed by the sweeping motion of his tongue through my folds, the thong being pulled away to allow for full contact.
“I told you she was sweet, brother.”
Faron’s voice comes from in the front of my head, meaning it’s Rome between my legs. I roll my hips experimentally but then a swat of the flogger at my breast stops me on contact.
“Don’t move, little girl.”
How in the world am I supposed to stay still when I have one Blake brother giving me pleasure with his tongue and another enjoying the view from above?
I moan and squirm, unable to comply with his command, for which I feel another painful snap across my nipple.
Rome swirls his tongue over my overly sensitive bundle of nerves, using his fingers to open my folds where his tongue lashes me more.
And just as I feel I’m about to reach that high pinnacle of satisfaction, Faron’s mouth is on my breast, sliding the strip of fishnet out of his way and taking my nipple into his greedy mouth.
