Reason [Club Pleasure 3] (Siren Publishing Classic)
Page 1
Club Pleasure 3
Reason
Ivone Mendes-Rodrigues and Jamison Landry are two peas in a pod. They are scarred by their childhoods and afraid of commitment, yet are secretly longing for someone to complete them. Jamison has compensated by becoming a play Dom. Ivone gives over within the context of her sexuality in the short term, and both rely upon the superficial to carry them through life.
They meet at a BDSM club, and what follows is a battle of wills. It is a struggle against a powerful sexual attraction that demands a deeper commitment.
If patience is a virtue, then Ivone is blessed, but she can only be pushed so far, and Jamison must dig deep for virtues he didn’t know he possessed and be a quick study in learning others.
They seem perfect for one another physically, and that should be enough given their histories, but love has crept in on little cat feet.
Genre: BDSM, Contemporary
Length: 26,326 words
REASON
Club Pleasure 3
Allyson Young
EROTIC ROMANCE
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Erotic Romance
REASON
Copyright © 2012 by Allyson Young
E-book ISBN: 978-1-61926-679-7
First E-book Publication: June 2012
Cover design by Jinger Heaston
All cover art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
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All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
Letter to Readers
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DEDICATION
For Robbie, best friends since forever. You always knew I would find my way.
REASON
Club Pleasure 3
ALLYSON YOUNG
Copyright © 2012
Prologue
Ivone Mendes-Rodrigues carefully smoothed out the sheet of paper she had extricated from the envelope not three minutes earlier. She had only scanned the contents, but the results were there in black and white, just as the doctor had told her on the phone two days earlier. It was a huge word. Endometriosis. It had been a previously unknown medical condition to her, and now it had a direct application in her life. The severe cramps and constipation she suffered since she had changed her form of birth control made sense, now that she had done her research. The doctor assured her a fairly routine surgery and drug therapy was in order although it was a severe case, except it meant that she likely wouldn’t be able to have children, or at best the probability of conceiving was extremely low. The doctor seemed to feel that it was a fairly common affliction among women, but Ivone felt sick and alone at the thought. Jamison been talking of an heir, and Jamison didn’t talk about something unless he had worked it through and was totally committed to the idea. Ivone was his mistress, girlfriend, submissive, whatever role happened to suit at the moment, although if she were to be totally honest with herself, she was his submissive first and foremost. He owned her and she owned him by virtue of her surrender to him and his domination of her. If Jamison wanted a child, then he would want her to bear it. She had seen him look at Kennedy and Graham’s little boy, Nathan, with something like awe on his face. She knew he worried for his friend, Patrick, because Pat’s wife Madi hadn’t had an easy pregnancy the first time around and the second one wasn’t going much better, yet he appreciated that couple’s desire for a large family. He never verbally professed his love for her, never spoke of marriage, but all the same their connection was deep. And now she wouldn’t be able to give him what he ultimately needed.
Ivone closed her eyes against the pain in her chest and worked hard at calming herself. Somehow she would have to figure a way out of this, and she would indeed find a way. Ivone knew she was intelligent and quite able to manage her own life, if she chose to do so. It was just that when she met Jamison at the club, something inside of her recognized him, and playing at submission turned into a full-time need to live the real thing. He only had to look her way and she knew he was the only dominant she would ever want. Jamison hadn’t been as easily convinced, and fought it tooth and nail, nearly driving her away in the process, but after a few weeks and “sessions” together, he accepted that he had indeed met the woman who was absolutely willing to give him anything and everything he needed, if only he would abide by a code beyond that of a play Dom. And Jamison needed and took everything. He moved her in with him and had her quit her job, put her career on hold, and expected that she totally focus herself on him. He was quite self-centered and could be selfish, but Ivone had been carefully and unobtrusively guiding him to become the man she caught glimpses of and knew lived beneath his protective façade. Ultimately, she forced him to share his feelings, and their relationship had recovered from its passionate, but rocky start, and had blossomed into something deeper. She became his hostess, his confidant, and his lover, although lover was such a gentle word. Vanilla sex was rare and while she cherished that lovemaking, the times when Jamison bound her and gave her erotic pain and beyond, before fucking her senseless, were what they both throve on. And now she had to find a way to set him free because it was the right and reasonable thing to do.
Chapter One
Six months earlier…
Ivone slipped out of he
r coat and shoes, leaving them with the attendant, and made her way into the general meeting area of the club. She could hear the rise and fall of distant male and female voices as the evening ramped up along with the sound of the music that emanated from a large number of speakers tucked into various corners of each room. She was late, which was quite unlike her, and anxious that she had missed meeting everyone who would have turned up for the event. Ivone didn’t have her own Dom, being content to connect with one at these regular affairs. She wasn’t interested in finding a long-term connection, probably because she hadn’t met a Dom who she believed would meet her needs on a regular basis, but sometimes there weren’t enough Doms for subs and vice versa, and she really needed a release tonight. Ivone picked up the pace until she came to the doorway of the meeting room. The area seemed fairly empty, and she felt disappointed but walked in anyway, hoping she had missed someone in the dim lighting.
She was wearing a simple, black silk chemise that fell just to midthigh and nothing else, aside from a delicate red ribbon of silk and lace around her neck. The ribbon signaled her availability and she hoped there would be someone in the club tonight to connect with and take her mind off of the absolute bitch of a week she had just endured at her present job. Her boss was away on vacation, and his second-in-command was a spoiled, petulant wannabe who took delight in ordering his subordinates around as well as assigning make-work projects. Ivone was the senior designer of the team and therefore took the brunt of his pettiness, partly because she was the senior member, but mostly because she felt the need to shelter some of the younger staff. Frederic—imagine someone calling their son Frederic—it sounded like a perfect name for a Pomeranian, was an ass, but Reed would be back next week, and things would go back to normal. This evening might be her R & R if only she could find a Dom to meet her needs. She was tired of taking care of other people and being assertive. She wanted someone to see to her, to demand and take from her, force her to let go, to surrender, if only sexually. Tonight.
* * * *
Jamison Landry spotted the tall, voluptuous brunette the instant she passed into the meet-and-greet area. His reaction to her puzzled him. His taste usually ran to tall, thin blondes, yet none of that type had appealed to him tonight. He had been entertaining the idea of going back to his own club, Pleasure, and seeking a connection for the evening, given the fact that he wasn’t finding anyone here. Maybe that was what was lacking in his life. He was picking the wrong type of women, because that package in the scrap of silk really spoke to him. Certainly his senses were already on alert by virtue of the environment, and he planned to do a scene with some woman tonight and fuck her afterwards, either at this club or his own, but his gut was tight, not just his cock. He had thought to visit Vice, to see if he could counter the ennui, the sense of his life unfolding without purpose, but he never figured he would lay eyes on a woman who would speak to him in such a way. He turned to one of the wait staff and motioned her over.
“Yes, Mr. Landry?”
“Bring me the brunette in the black slip, the tall one,” he ordered.
“Certainly, Sir.” The woman nodded, but gave him a cold look. Jamison ignored it.
* * * *
Ivone spun at the touch on her shoulder. “Hello, Veronica! Nice to see you.”
Veronica smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Jamison Landry has asked for you, Ivone. You want to watch yourself with that one. He doesn’t play games. He only does short-term stuff, and he’s just slumming tonight, so remember that, too.”
Ivone searched Veronica’s face carefully. A truly serious Dom. Could this Landry be the man she had been searching for? One who might really meet her needs and possibly be available for more than a night?
“Okay, Veronica,” she responded. “Thanks for the heads up. I won’t leave the club with him.”
“And don’t go into one of the private rooms with him either, honey,” Veronica advised. “He’ll hurt you.”
Veronica’s dire warning awoke the pain slut within Ivone. She could take a lot of pain. Oh, not knives or burning, although wax was okay if the Dom knew what he was doing, but if he was good with a single or double tail, she would bleed for him. She’d simply contract that he whip her only on her lower back and buttocks, maybe the tops of her thighs. Those parts she could cover in public with clothing. She wondered for a moment if he shared his submissives with other Doms. She had yet to really give up that part of her. Being handed off at her Dom’s discretion wasn’t something she really wanted to do, although she had done a couple of threesomes, and the sex had been very good, probably because she had been dominated. And if he were a real Dom, he would learn that being shared wasn’t what she really needed. She obediently followed Veronica to where this Jamison Landry was slouched comfortably in a leather club chair. She kept her eyes cast toward the floor, but noticed his thick black hair and forbidding handsomeness. His eyes were hooded and in shadow, and she wondered what color they were. She had the impression of a large, hard body, and now, within view of her downcast eyes, she could see his heavily muscled thighs, molded by the leather pants he wore splayed in front of her, an impressive bulge between them.
“Ivone Mendes-Rodrigues, Master Landry,” Veronica advised him and then slipped away.
Ivone stood there for what seemed an eternity. But she had learned patience early on in her childhood, and it had served her well right into her thirtieth year. Fascinated, she unobtrusively watched Landry’s body shift like a big cat’s as he reached out a large hand, the fingers long and spatulate, the nails big and square. He hooked them into the front of her chemise and pulled her to stand between his thighs, right up against his package. Ivone felt the heat and hardness clear to the centre of her being and tried not to tremble, then gave it up as a bad job. Both of his hands slid up her arms to toy with the thin straps, sliding them down to her elbows, the silky fabric shimmering over her breasts to drag on her erect, pebbled nipples. He paused and brushed a thumb against each of them, the roughness of his callused skin making her shudder. He pushed the garment down over her hips and let it pool around her feet, then leaned back to scrutinize her. At his gesture she spread her thighs further apart and his violet eyes darkened to amethyst as he looked at the naked folds of her labia. The rest of the room and the people in it simply ceased to exist for Ivone. The sound of them was like the faint buzzing of insects. Jamison Landry was her only focus, and she obediently turned when he motioned for her to do so, stopping when he grasped her hips to hold her in place, then stroked a callused hand over the curve of her ass. A pressure on the small of her back signaled for her to bend over, and she did so, grasping her ankles. She felt a finger press between her buttocks and find her anus.
“Do you let a cock in here?” a low, mesmerizing voice asked.
“Yes, Sir,” she managed.
The finger moved to her vaginal opening, pausing at the wetness then pushing up inside of her, high and hard. Shit, one of his fingers felt like three of every other man who had fingered her. Would his cock be larger, too? What she thought was his thumb swirled in her moisture and pressed a little ways into her anus, and Ivone gasped at the double penetration.
“Do you let two men here?” he now demanded, his voice even deeper with arousal.
“Twice, Sir,” Ivone whimpered, as the thumb pressed harder at her answer.
“We’ll see,” was his response, and the digits were abruptly removed.
Ivone held the position until he lightly slapped her ass and pulled on a thigh to turn her.
“Kneel,” he ordered.
Ivone dropped to her knees instantly.
“Do you fuck women?”
“No, Sir.”
“We’ll see. Now suck me. Do it as you would usually and I will correct you if I have any complaint. Keep your hands on your thighs.”
Ivone opened her mouth as he pulled his cock from the front of his leathers. It was enormous, the head as big and dark as a plum and the shaft thick and heavily vein
ed. He was already wet for her, and she rejoiced at the fact that she aroused him. This was not appropriate behavior in such a public part of the club, but Ivone knew not to tease this man. She accepted him into her mouth and then sucked him in as deep as she could manage, wishing she could use her hands. As if he had read her mind, he circled his thumb and forefinger where her lips joined his cock, and she realized that he didn’t want to choke her. She hoped his thoughtfulness extended to knowing how much pain she needed, too.
Ivone worked at the blow job, totally focused and intent. She lost herself as she did so, enjoying his taste and texture, enjoying the sensation she got from fellating this man. She loved the dichotomy of being on her knees with a big cock shoved in her mouth yet feeling so powerful. Jamison was, for the most part, silent during her ministrations, and let her set the pace. She then felt his hands fist in her hair and he thrust deep against her throat. She barely had time to relax and swallow against him when he ejaculated. She somehow drank him down, but it was an effort, and there was a sensation of drowning. He pulled out of her mouth and tilted her head up. His eyes bored into hers and it was like nothing Ivone had ever felt before. She couldn’t have looked away if the fire alarm had gone off. Oh, God, this man might so be for her.
* * * *
Jamison fought against the pull of this Ivone Mendes-Rodrigues. Her astonishing eyes mesmerized him, not to mention that she had just given him the best blow job he had ever experienced, and that was saying something. She hadn’t sucked harder than other women, or taken him any deeper. She hadn’t used her tongue to greater effect. It was her single-mindedness, her absolute sense of purpose that created the connection. She had loved blowing him, and it connected them. Somehow he knew this. But he had lost his mind to engage in such an overt sexual act in the public area of the club and he had to gain some control over the situation before it blew up in his face.