WaitingforDessert

by Chastity Vicks

  Vivienne turned abruptly, readying her smile. She liked Ian. He was a little diffident but sharp as a razor and apparently perfectly comfortable in his own skin, with no compulsion to prove or assert himself aside from just—very simply and very quietly—doing his job extremely well. He peered uncertainly at her through his wire-framed glasses and Vivienne lifted her leg, pretending she’d been adjusting the back of her shoe.

  “Damn heels,” she said by way of explanation. “At least I don’t have to walk any farther than the dining room! Um…yeah, thanks, Ian. Could you just give me a hand with these plates for a second, please?”

  “Sure.”

  He smiled, only too eager to assist, and that alone made the raging surge of frustrated desire inside her beat with renewed vigor.

  * * * * *

  By the time she had served the starter—the delicate little pan-fried scallops with confit potatoes, caramelized vegetables and a silky thyme velouté—Vivienne’s mind was working in overdrive. She was torn between the arousal that gnawed at her, the constant reminder at her core that she had this wicked, dangerous secret and the nerve-fraying uncertainty that came with the threat of discovery.

  Of course the risk only heightened the excitement and yet in some ways, Vivienne almost resented what she was doing. It wasn’t quite the same as regret—this was her choice and she’d stick by it—but this evening was still important. The conversations she had with Reyes mattered, damn it! This was about her career and quite possibly her whole future. Everything she did tonight could affect that and here she was with her head stuck in topspace, her panties soaked and practically every breath edging her closer to complete distraction.

  For a little while, that agitation started to melt into anger. It was all Ash’s fault. He’d been the one who wanted to be here for this, who wanted to be paraded as her partner, and he had made her feel guilty for refusing. How dare he? How dare he do that to her…how dare he do this? He was totally culpable for her current state of interior dishevelment and she would extract her revenge.

  Naturally at that thought, Vivienne’s mind started to fill itself uncontrollably with all those pretty fantasies she’d had before. Ash, collared and naked, sitting at her feet as she dined with her guests, or demurely passing around the sauce and pepper clad in nothing but a rope harness. She struggled not to burst out laughing as she glanced around the table, imagining what these polite, smiling people would think if they knew the truth about what went on in her head or what was waiting for her upstairs.

  Oh but he was to blame for all of this. With his pretty eyes and his pleading pout and all that eager, insistent desire to be hers, to be good for her and to show off how proud and pleased he was to belong to her. It was his fault entirely and she would have to make him pay for it.

  Later, Vivienne decided, her boy was going to suffer. Visions of his pale butt striped red and glowing peopled her thoughts, his face creased into the agony of ecstasy as, flushed and begging, he writhed beneath her touch.

  She was going to ride him so hard…push him to the point of breaking, then snap him into pieces as if he were kindling to the fire of her pleasure. But, as she quickly reminded herself, she didn’t have the luxury of dwelling on those thoughts right now. Not unless she wanted to run the risk of leaving a wet patch on the upholstery of her chair.

  Vivienne took a couple of deep breaths. She tried to calm and center herself and smile as she talked with Reyes about the company’s growth and the importance of branding in a successful hotel launch. Initial first-quarter reports indicated that consumer awareness of their most recent project had been incredibly boosted by viral marketing. Despite everything she even started to enjoy herself.

  It was a weird sensation and she was surprised at it to begin with but, in between the compliments on the scallops, the glugging of the wine and the shop talk, Vivienne felt a kind of security bloom inside her. It was like a wave she could ride, a powerful pulsing that with every breath reminded her of her own capability.

  This was her place, her world.

  She had orchestrated this entire evening and she was perfectly capable of pulling it off—impressing the boss, dazzling her colleagues, holding down the smiles and the chatter and the plates of delicious food. All that was Vivienne, and it was the woman she could be. Professional, charming, capable. She was all of those things and she knew it. And yet she was more. She was a home to lust, vulnerability, desire…all those things, and also the weakness inside her that she filled up with her boy’s devotion. She was Ash’s Miss and she had the strength and proud intensity to do whatever the hell she damn well wanted, either with him or with her own life.

  These were her terms. This was her house, her rules and her night, and just thinking that way gave Vivienne back her ironbound self-control. She straightened her back a little more, crumpling her napkin in her fingers as she stood, excusing herself to fetch the main course from the kitchen.

  She was in control…and that was just the way she liked it.

  Chapter Eight

  In the little lull between the first and main courses, one of the girlfriends asked where the bathroom was. Vivienne nearly dropped the stack of plates she was removing to the kitchen but managed to smile and seem unruffled.

  “Up the stairs, straight to the end,” she said, silently praying that Lorna wouldn’t be tempted to peek into any of the other doors…particularly the one that led to her bedroom.

  Little flitters of panic sparked in Vivienne’s veins. Was the door sufficiently ajar to attract anyone’s attention? Would her guest be distracted into peeping? Would Ash mistakenly think it was her coming up to check on him and try to call out? Was he okay?

  Fuck, this was a terrible idea…

  Vivienne focused on serving the chicken ballotines, carefully snipping the twine that held each golden-brown oval tightly sealed and transferring them to the warmed plates. Ash had never been left bound and unattended for this long before. Their time together was rare enough without delaying gratification any further, and she wasn’t so innately devilish that she’d leave him tied up and completely abandoned while she went to the store or anything. What if something happened and he needed help?

  The thought that just maybe Ash might panic upstairs and start calling for her trickled across Vivienne’s mind but she quickly dismissed it. He wouldn’t do that unless it was a medical emergency and—while the mere possibility did turn her cold if she thought about it—she very much doubted a couple of hours was enough for him to suffer anything worse than a few pins and needles. Besides, he had room to move a little. He could move his legs and feet, as far as the give in the rope would allow, and shift his arms a bit, and he’d been able to go to the bathroom first. He’d be fine, at least physically. Mentally of course might be a different matter.

  Vivienne frowned as she gently transferred colorful mixes of steamed veggies to the plates. From the dining room, her guests’ overlapping conversations—punctuated with the clink of glassware and frequent bursts of laughter—told her that the evening was going well. She wondered how much Ash could hear. What was he thinking about? Was he focused completely on the threat of discovery and entertaining all manner of terrifying possibilities? She knew he’d met both Derek and Jay at least once. If either of them stumbled in on him, it would not only be mortifying for everyone but it would make every single work-related interaction awkward as all hell for the remainder of any career either of them had left.

  She shifted her weight from foot to foot as she drizzled cranberry jus over the plates. For some reason, she couldn’t stop thinking about one of her guests walking in on Ash, and the thought got her wildly excited. Naturally if the world worked like it did in porn, whoever it was would strip immediately and get to work on his bound, defenseless body, and then she would head up there to see what the noise was and the entire thing would end up in an orgy…which was a delightful thought, as long as Vivienne didn’t focus too closely on the participants actually being her coworkers. The
thought of Amanda stripping down and trying to climb aboard Ash’s cock, for example, made her snigger so much she had to put the sauce boat down and cover her mouth with both hands.

  The distant sound of the toilet flushing, followed by the faint creak of footsteps on the stairs and the absence of any running or screaming suggested that Lorna had located the bathroom without incident and had arrived back at the table. As Vivienne reentered the dining room balancing the first set of plates in her hands, she scrutinized the woman’s face for any hint that she’d gone peeping, but she was simply sitting back beside Derek, smiling congenially and saying something nice about the wallpaper.

  Relief pulsed in Vivienne’s chest. That little success—that moment of so very determinedly getting away with it—emboldened her, giving her rush after rush of excitement, pride and power.

  She brought in the rest of the ballotines, resumed her seat and drank another glass of wine, swelling with the knowledge that her boy was still her secret.

  * * * * *

  The ballotines had turned out well but Vivienne was struggling to keep her appetite as her guests addressed the entrée. After Luis Reyes finished telling a story about a conference in Philadelphia, the punch line greeted with ripples of polite laughter, Vivienne made her own trip up to the bathroom.

  Her head swam a little as she climbed the stairs, bathed in the warm glow of the lamp on the landing. She knew she’d probably drunk a little more wine than she should have, particularly as she intended to play with Ash so enthusiastically once the guests were gone, but she was fairly sure it wasn’t enough to make her truly tipsy. All the same, she held the rail firmly, her pink-tipped fingers almost scoring the wood, and her breathing grew shallow as she neared the door to her bedroom.

  It was just as she’d left it, ever so slightly ajar, but the room was dark and it was impossible to see more than just the most basic silhouettes within, at least until she got past the threshold and closer to the window. Vivienne slipped silently into the room, her heart clenching on the sight of Ash’s supine form.

  The grainy second-hand light that sneaked between the drapes painted him in a blurred palette of blues and grays, his hands still bound to the bedframe, fingers sagging in gentle curls, his head lolled to one side on the pillow. His thighs were slightly parted, his soft cock draped rakishly against the left one, his long legs splayed out against the covers and his feet pointing inward, the ropes attached to the cuffs at his ankles pulled tight. He was so beautiful. At first she thought he was asleep, and Vivienne slowed her pace as she went to him, padding across the carpet in her heels. She reached out, trailing her fingers very gently from the top of his foot, up his shin to his knee, and then the warm breadth of his thigh. She loved the way the hair on his body changed texture from those coarse, wiry curls of gold to the softer, finer fuzz on his inner thighs. His whole frame was a tapestry of contrasts and contradictions between strength and vulnerability, pride and humility, and she valued her role as the alchemist who wrought those transformations in him.

  Vivienne expected Ash to jump at her touch, but he merely turned his head, hazel eyes opening as he peered at her in the dimness. The room had grown dark and the light from the landing didn’t spill past the door, which Vivienne had pushed closed behind her. She smiled at the softness in his face. He was peaceful, accepting…though she could see the true edge of fear lingering in his expression.

  “You’re not cold, are you, sweetie?” she asked quietly, fingers skimming his stomach.

  Ash shook his head, though gooseflesh shuddered along his limbs, his nipples tight and hard and his skin a little chilly to the touch. She pressed the backs of her fingers briefly to his hands, then tweaked gently at his thumb, testing the movement and sensitivity in his grip.

  “I’m fine, Miss,” he murmured, his voice barely scraping the air. “But…please? Please, close the door? I—”

  He shifted awkwardly, not quite tugging at the restraints but pleading with every muscle of his body. Vivienne looked down at him, spread bare and vulnerable just for her, and she squeezed her thighs together, fighting the impulse to forget all about the people downstairs and simply fuck him to the point of insensibility, right here and now. Her pussy ached, every inch of skin stroked to oversensitivity just by her clothes, and she eased her weight from foot to foot, trying hard to choke down her arousal.

  “I’m frightened,” Ash confided in the smallest whisper possible, his eyes huge and imploring in the pale, grainy half-light that spilled between the drapes.

  He tugged a little at the cuffs as he adjusted his position, his legs partially bent and his shoulders bunching against the restraints. Vivienne bit her lip, hard.

  In a way, she wouldn’t have blamed him for calling red on this whole thing. She wasn’t sure it was a good idea either, but they were in too deep now. She supposed she could let him up, let him get dressed and just hide out up here until the guests went home…but they’d be far more likely to hear Ash bumping about, trying to pull his clothes on quietly than they would if he just stayed where he was. He hadn’t been noticed so far, not even when Lorna went to find the bathroom. That little moment of success—that improbable thrill of validation and victory— had lent an even greater buzz to the evening, giving Vivienne a ridiculous sense of confidence that rode right alongside her nervousness, and making her even wetter than she’d thought possible. She squirmed, balancing her weight on the balls of her feet, and tried to pretend that the genuine look of uncertainty on his face didn’t excite her as much as it did.

  He had never been this completely under her control and though discovery would hurt both of them and her far, far more than him—because who in their right mind had their naked lover tied to the bed while their boss was eating dinner downstairs?—the power she had over him right now drove her crazy.

  Vivienne smiled softly as she leaned down to him, the roar of lust in her ears beating like a hundred tides.

  “You be a good boy for me,” she murmured gently, one hand on his shoulder and the other reaching down to take hold of his cock, “and everything will be fine, sweetie.”

  Ash whimpered under his breath as she ran her nails down the length of his shaft and Vivienne’s smile widened. She pressed her mouth closer to his ear, until his hair tickled her lips and she could smell his shampoo, his skin…the light tang of his sweat from lying here, fretting over the possibility of being found. She shifted, pressing her thighs in on the heat and desire building at her core, her shaven lips shuddering against her lace panties. His cock had begun to respond to her touch, thickening as she cupped him tenderly in her grasp, fingertips teasing and tweaking.

  Slowly Vivienne extended her tongue and traced a delicate, wet line around the rim of Ash’s ear. The jolt of his choked breath reverberated through her—a dark, thin glimmer of power in the dimness.

  “Are you scared they’ll find you?” she murmured, digging her nails into his shoulder as she stroked his dick lazily. “Walk in and see you tied up, naked and hard, waiting to be used like a little slut?”

  Those pretty hazel eyes flickered shut and Ash’s lips moved soundlessly, quivering over unsaid words. He didn’t usually go much for humiliation, but the edge of this new, dangerous game was an irresistible place to play.

  “Hmmm?” Vivienne insisted, nipping at his ear as she closed her fist around his stiffening cock, stroking harder. “My little slut?”

  “Yes, Miss!” he gasped, jerking his hips in the effort to thrust up into her palm.

  Vivienne bit the rim of his ear as she pumped his cock firmly and Ash shuddered under her touch, his movements threatening to make the springs in the mattress shake. Quickly she pulled away, leaving him bucking against the air, his face stained with betrayal and despair and his hands splayed out, fingers spreading like starfish from the restraints.

  “Miss…please,” he begged in a choked whisper. “Please, Miss…”

  “Ah-ah,” she warned, slapping his stomach sharply. “Don’t you dare. That�
�s mine, slut. All mine. You understand?”

  Ash whimpered, straining against his bonds but nodding breathlessly. “Yes. Yes, Miss. But—”

  “You want me to tell them you’re up here?” Vivienne whispered, scratching along the taut line of his stomach, her nails leaving short paths of white on his skin, vivid but quickly fading. “Want me to bring them up to see you? Watch you lie here while I spank your ass, make you come? All those people, filing through, staring at you while I touch you?”

  She pulled back a little, watching the effect her words had on him, watching the way his eyes turned wide and glassy and his mouth pinched around words that were either going to be an expression of desire or a desperate protest. He didn’t speak. He just lay there, his breathing fast and shallow, his attention fixed raptly on her.

  “P-please, Miss,” he stammered eventually, his cock still wavering desperately in the air.

  Vivienne’s gut twisted in an agony of desire. She doubted she’d ever wanted anyone so badly in her life. Wet heat pooled between her lips as her cunt practically begged for him—his mouth, his cock, anything—and yet at that precise moment a muffled burst of laughter from downstairs reminded her just how close to discovery they were skating.

  Her pulse skittered and she saw the fear spatter Ash’s face too. He looked up at her, his lips twisted uncertainly and she knew she was running out of time.

  Vivienne straightened up and hitched her skirt high, revealing the lacy tops of her stockings and her black garter belt. Ash’s eyes swiveled at once to the framed tableau of her slender thighs, tongue swiping impatiently at his lips as he stared at her as if he could will his mouth on to her by just his gaze alone. Vivienne hooked her thumbs into the waistband of the delicate lace panties she wore and slipped them quickly down, stepping out of the damp fabric and baring her shaven pussy to the air. She tugged her skirt back in place roughly and, crumpling the panties in her pink-tipped fingers, she leaned over Ash once more. He stared at her, his eyes as glassy as two flat, shining coins in the soft, blurry dimness, his lips softly parted. His chest rose and fell erratically, as if he was trying hard to control his breathing, and Vivienne rested her hand on his ribs, breathing with him, gazing steadily into his eyes until he calmed.