To Seduce And Satisfy

by Abby Gordon

  “You remember what to do as soon as you get inside?”

  She nodded. Strip off everything but the harness so he could spank her. He pushed the door open and she waited in the hall for him to check the apartment. Silently, he came back to her. Pulling her in, he put her just inside the door as he bolted it. Without hesitating or moving further into the apartment, she took her coat off and put it on the hook, before taking off her low-quarter boots. Not moving from where he had put her, she removed her clothes and piled them on the boots.

  After securing the door, Quincy removed his coat and pulled off his boots and watched her strip. Naked, she looked at him, not sure where he wanted her. The intense expression on his face had electricity zipping through her body. First he put the cuffs on her, securing her hands behind her back. He gagged her next, carefully checking to make sure her hair wasn’t caught in the strap.

  Then, as she stood by the door, he went to the stereo, changed a CD and turned it on. It was a New Age band with an erotic theme to their music. The volume wasn’t obnoxiously loud, but it would mask most sounds they made. That thought had her trembling. He turned the lever for the gas fireplace and stood. Turning to look at her, he pulled his sweater over his head and tossed it toward her pile of clothes. As her gaze went over the muscles rippling with each movement, he unbuckled his belt, unzipped and unbuttoned and, in one action, shoved his pants and boxers down his legs.

  His cock jutted out, hard and ready to go wherever he wanted it.

  With deliberate steps, he came to her, towering over her. Still without a word, he took the blindfold from the side table and rendered her completely helpless. He stepped away and she shivered at the loss of his body heat. She heard him moving about the apartment but couldn’t tell if he stayed in the living room or went in a bedroom. Foil ripped and anticipation flashed through her knowing that he was putting a condom on.

  His long fingers gripped her upper arm as he took her into the living room. She stumbled slightly, then found her hips pressed against something. She thought it was the chair near the fireplace as she felt the heat on the left side of her face. Her upper body was pressed forward and down until her head rested on what she was sure were the throw pillows from the sofa. Her legs were adjusted until they were as far apart as possible.

  “Remember, little one,” he whispered, one hand stroking her back. “Do not come unless I give you permission.” She nodded and his hand gripped hers in a reassuring squeeze. “I want you to be fully aware of why I’m spanking you. I’m spanking you for doubting me. I’m spanking you to remind you that I am your master. No one else will ever do this. Any more than anyone else will ever fuck you as I will when I’m finished spanking you. Understand?” She nodded again. “The toys will stay on.” She whimpered. “Oh, no, little one. Part of this is to see how long you can control yourself.”

  One hand lifted her bound wrists, forcing her up onto her toes and her head further against the pillows. The other hand came down on the slight curve of her left ass cheek. Then her right. Back and forth until she was sure her ass was hotter than the fire in the hearth. But not hotter than the tight coil in her belly. A spanking as foreplay would have seemed outrageous Monday afternoon. Now, after just two days with Quincy, she almost welcomed it. He was making sure she understood that she was his. His to protect. His to seduce. His to satisfy. His to dominate in any way he wanted. Because she trusted him.

  Her legs buckled slightly and she writhed against the chair she was bent over.

  Letting her hands fall to her back, his fingers worked on the harness. She felt the toys shut off just before they were pulled from her. From the soft thump near her head, she realized he’d dropped them there. His hands gripped her hips, lifted her feet off the floor and held her in the air for a moment. Hold still, she told herself. Hold still, don’t wriggle. It was so hard! She knew that his cock was near and she wanted that cock inside her!

  She gasped behind the gag as she felt the tip of him just outside her anus. Trust him, she thought. He won’t until you’re ready. Taking a deep breath, she forced her muscles to relax. Then felt him move lower, to her pussy. The next instant, he was balls deep inside her. His heavy upper body partially rested on hers. She could feel his breath in her ear.

  “Such a good girl in taking your punishment,” he whispered. “Such a good girl. My good girl.” Pleasure at his approval filled her. “Now, I’m going to fuck my good girl. I want my good girl to wait until I’ve thrust ten times. Then you can come. Understand?”

  She nodded eagerly, rubbing her cheek against his. He gently bit her ear.

  “Good girl.”

  She’d had no idea how hard waiting ten times would be. By the second, she was ready to arch back, screaming in satisfaction. By five, she was writhing against the pillows, eyes squeezed tight behind the blindfold. By eight, her teeth were clamping around the ball gag. Each thrust was hard and deep, filling her, making her want more. Ten! She let go of her control but clamped her walls around his cock at the next thrust. The friction as he moved into her sent her flying. Her torso arced up off the pillows and even the gag couldn’t silence her cry.

  “Christ!” he ground out.

  As his release pumped into her, she sighed, collapsing against the pillows. He cradled her, their bodies bent double.

  “I couldn’t have described the perfect submissive for me until you,” he murmured, gradually removing the gag, blindfold and cuffs. “Yes, you might drive me crazy at times, just as I’ll do the same for you…”

  “But it’s still perfect,” she murmured.

  “Absolutely,” he nodded, pulling out of her.

  Panting, she stayed where she was as he removed the condom and threw it in the trash. Helping her straighten, he picked her up and carried her into the bathroom. With a warm washcloth, he tenderly cleaned her and soothed her still smarting ass. Carrying her to the bed, he tucked her in.

  “Stay here,” he whispered, smoothing back the tendrils that clung to her sweaty face. “I’ll get us something to eat.”

  “I should…” she shook her head.

  “Shh,” he whispered. “Taking care of his submissive is something this master will do, understand?” Relaxing, she smiled, but held his hand to her cheek. “Try to stay awake until I get back,” he smiled.

  “Can I go to the bathroom?”

  The corner of his mouth crooked up.

  “Yeah, that’s okay.”

  Alone in her room, she hugged the pillow to her chest. Two days ago, she had been reeling from the swiftness of the terminations at work, followed by the attack on Serena. She had pent-up frustrations from having to deal with everything, including trying to understand her own feelings toward sex. And now, in forty-eight hours, she had the support and protection of a man whose sole focus was her.

  She had found incredible sexual satisfaction by letting Quincy do what he wanted. She trusted him completely. She smiled, slipping out of bed and grabbing onto the foot railing. Taking a deep breath, she tried to get control of her trembling limbs and moved forward. Obviously she had wanted him from first sight, otherwise she wouldn’t have let him spank her.

  She frowned as she sat on the toilet. He’d been so right about her being jealous about Claire with Paul and Serena’s mystery lover. She just hadn’t wanted to admit it. She’d wanted someone to satisfy her that way. She’d known that Paul called all the shots, but hadn’t thought it might be like what Quincy was doing with her. Did that mean Claire was spanked? Or Serena? Given what she was learning… No, she wasn’t going there. Flushing the toilet, she washed her hands and face before gazing at her reflection. The difference was amazing.

  Monday morning she had been frustrated and scared. Now? She looked alive with sparkling eyes, kiss-swollen lips, and flushed skin. Now, life was fantastic. She couldn’t wait to see what the next forty-eight hours brought.

  Chapter Eleven

  Quincy put the two plates on the tray, the two wineglasses on their sides and tucked th
e napkins and flatware in the side pocket. After loosening the cork, he put the wine bottle under his arm, picked up the tray and headed to the bedroom. At the door he smiled. Debbie had piled up the pillows for them to sit back against, then fallen asleep.

  “Still hungry?” he asked, moving to the bed. Her eyes flickered open and she gave him a sleepy smile. “I know you’re tired, babe, but you still need to eat.”

  Nodding, she pushed herself upright and looked at him.

  “What do I do when we go to your club?”

  “Two main things—keep your eyes down and stay where I tell you. If I leave your side, I will make sure you’re in a safe place or with someone I trust not to touch you and keep others from touching you.”

  She nodded as he put the tray over her thighs. Her hands straightened the wineglasses and he poured.

  “And the dominants?”

  “Obviously they have more freedom,” he smiled, sitting on the bed while letting his left foot rest on the floor. “As I told you, there are some permanent dominants and about two dozen submissives or slaves in the club. It won’t be too hard to pick them out. The Doms are in black, brown, or navy. The subs are in light gray or blue and wear silver collars. The slaves are naked with black leather collars.”

  “Naked?” she whispered, eyes rounding. “What…” she swallowed. “What do they do at the club?”

  “Doms take care of any member who wants a submissive experience. They also train other Doms, subs, and slaves. The subs are available to any member who wants a dominant experience if they agree.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The Club submissives can refuse a dominant if they want. The dominant may want a scene that they don’t so the submissive can refuse.”

  He could practically hear the wheels of her mind spinning. She ate two bites.

  “And the slaves? They can’t refuse anything, can they?”

  “No, they can’t,” he nodded. “Dominants are forbidden from doing any permanent damage to a slave that isn’t theirs.” He saw the color drain from her face. “They are also not to touch a submissive that isn’t theirs.”

  She nodded and he could tell she was slightly reassured. Briefly, he wondered if she was ready for the public areas of the Club. She might feel better if he explained that.

  “The pub area of the Club is like an English tavern. Paneled walls and such. The founder was English,” he smiled. “There are booths and tables like any bar. The main exception would probably be that subs are in various stages of dress or bondage and the slaves are pretty much naked. The dominants or masters are usually in leather or loose silk pants.” He raised his wineglass and gave her a knowing look. “Pants that are easy to drop so we can fuck our subs or slaves whenever we want.”

  “In the pub?” she breathed.

  “That doesn’t usually happen there,” he admitted. “Or in the dining room. Most masters use those two rooms to show off their subs or slaves. There are rooms where a master can publicly discipline or fuck a sub or slave.” He took a large bite and swallowed. Debbie was slowly eating. “Those double as teaching rooms as well. That’s the first two or three floors. There are several floors with private suites. They contain bedrooms, fully equipped playrooms, and bathrooms. Completely private and sound insulated.” He waggled his brows at her. “I’ve booked one for Friday night.” When she turned beet red, he laughed. Reaching out he cupped her jaw. “Just think of it, babe. I can take you to the bar, show you off, then take you to our own room.” He put the wineglasses on the nightstand before putting the tray on the floor. Getting back on the bed, he pulled her legs straight and straddled her thighs. She pressed back against the pillows. He could see her eyes dilating and hear her breath come fast and shallow. “I’ve asked for a special spanking bench. I can secure you, put a dildo in that hot pussy of yours, spank you—because we both know you’ll do something to deserve a spanking—then…” he put his hands on either side of her hips and nibbled on her neck. He lifted his head when she whimpered. “Then, when you’re begging me, I can fuck that tight little ass of yours.”

  Her eyelids fluttered closed and she moaned.

  “Please, master,” she whispered.

  “What do you want, babe?”

  “For you to do what you want to me,” she sighed. “Please.”

  “Not yet, babe,” he smiled, sitting back on his heels. Her eyes flew open. “I told you. I want you to take it easy for a couple of days.” She was already shaking her head. “Don’t argue with me on this, Debbie. I have a number of things planned for Friday and if you’re sore from my fucking now, then I can’t do them then. The anticipation will be more than worth it.”

  He could see the arguments in her eyes. He could see the internal struggle before she finally sighed and nodded.

  “What do you say?”

  “Yes, master,” she murmured. Her hand came up and wrapped around his cock. “Do I still get to touch you?”

  “Tease,” he groaned, catching her wrist. “Am I going to have to bind you while we sleep to get you to behave?”

  “I thought a submissive took care of her dominant,” she said, the innocent act not fooling him for one second. “To make sure his every need was met.”

  Gritting his teeth, he caught both her wrists and stretched them over her head.

  “You’re really trying to earn that spanking on Friday, aren’t you?”

  “Well, I know you’ll feel better if I deserve it.”

  Quincy gave her a long, hard look. After a moment, she gave up and giggled. Smiling, he pulled her to him and closed his eyes.

  “Woman, I think we deserve each other.”

  “Just think of the people we saved in the process,” she quipped, snuggling against him.

  Kissing the top of her head, he tightened his grip on her.

  “Did you get enough to eat?”

  “I did,” she nodded.

  “Let me go put it away. You go to sleep.”

  He heard her go to brush her teeth, but by the time he returned to the bedroom, she was curled on her side in the middle of the bed, sound asleep. Smiling, he turned off all but the bathroom nightlight and climbed into bed. Pulling her into the curve of his body, he exhaled and was asleep almost immediately.

  ****

  Quincy opened his eyes to see Debbie standing at the side of the bed. In her hands was the tray with a large plate of scrambled eggs, sausage, English muffins, and two steaming mugs of coffee.

  “You’re kidding me,” he whispered, sitting up.

  “It’s about the extent of my cooking skills,” she smiled as he took the tray from her. She climbed up and sat cross-legged before taking her mug. “I wanted to take care of you.”

  He paused, the mug at his mouth. When the hell had anyone said that to him? That was the easiest question—never. He looked at her—silky black hair falling softly about her shoulders, brown eyes shining with contentment on many levels—and knew he had what he’d been so sure he didn’t need or want. A woman in his life. A woman who wanted him as a lover, a friend, and a master. A woman with intelligence, warmth, wit, and loyalty.

  “Quincy?”

  “Tell me about this club we’re going to today,” he said, forcing himself to focus on the future. Even if he now worked for MacLauren, he was going to make sure she was safe. “What’s the name?”

  “The Gray Shadows,” she said, picking up a fork and scooping up a large clump of eggs.

  He stared at her as she ate it. She hadn’t put those pieces of the puzzle together yet. “The Gray Shadows?” he echoed. “That’s a rather exclusive club. How did you start going there?”

  Her mouth twisted and her shoulders dropped slightly. That piqued his interest. That usually meant she was about to admit something she was embarrassed about.

  “Paul and David took Claire and me a few times for happy hour. They introduced us to the security people and the bartenders who promised to take care of us. Claire said Paul knew that I liked to go clubbing
and that she worried about me. He knew the owner and security chief at Gray Shadows and that we’d be safe. He made her promise not to be there after nine if he wasn’t with her.” She scooped up more eggs and, fork half-way to her mouth, paused. “Is the Gray Shadows…”

  “Part of the Club?” he finished, swallowing the sausage patty whole. He nodded. “The son of the Club’s owner came up with the idea. Members can access a back door in and out.”

  “Oh, my God,” she breathed. “That means Paul and David are and Claire…”

  “Debbie, don’t go there,” he told her, reaching out and taking a nipple between his thumb and forefinger. She gasped as he pinched her breast. “Focus, Debbie. Focus on me now.” Her brown eyes flew to his face and she didn’t move. “Debbie, the reason Paul told Claire not to be there without him after nine is because many Club dominants go looking for people to seduce after that time. They’re quite aggressive and they know exactly what they’re doing. No one would touch Claire because the security detail would know she belongs to Paul. But you,” he squeezed her breast. “You would be a ripe target for them. Paul, despite all the anger you’ve shown him, was looking out for you. He was protecting you.”

  She closed her eyes. “After the way I’ve acted toward him,” she whispered. “He could have let me go there in ignorance, but instead he protected me.”

  “He did,” Quincy nodded.

  “I need to apologize to him. Thank him,” she murmured, shaking her head. “And to Claire. She had to have known and it must’ve killed her not to say anything to me.” She groaned. “God, I’ve been an idiot. All this time, I thought I was protecting her and she and the man I was ranting about were protecting me.”

  “Do it quietly,” he advised. “To Paul. I think he might need the reassurance.” She gave him a puzzled look. “I think he and Claire have a few problems to work out.”

  “Because of David,” she snorted, grimacing. “Well, maybe I shouldn’t…”

  “Uh-huh,” he shook his head, pinching her nipple. “He still protected you.”