The Culmination (The Club Series Book 4)

by Lauren Rowe

  I pull out a big, fat dildo from the duffel bag—holy shit, that’s a huge fucking dildo—plus a much smaller, beaded, vibrating dildo for anal play, plus some lube (of course), and a glass dildo thing that looks more like a bong than a sex toy to me, but what the fuck do I know? I lay it all on the nightstand with the blindfold and ticklers. And then I sit on the edge of the bed, my chest tight, my nipples hard, my stomach in knots, my cock tingling, waiting for my little submissive-in-training to come out of the bathroom, as instructed, to meet her maker.

  Within a minute, I hear some splashing and dripping sounds coming from the bathroom. Sarah must be getting out of the tub.

  I stand and shake out my arms and legs. And then I beat my bare chest like a gorilla. It’s game time for the cocky-bastard-asshole-motherfucker. Let’s do this.

  Thirty seconds later, Sarah enters the bedroom, and, oh my God, she’s Aphrodite. She’s dressed in a barely there white lace teddy that sets off her smooth olive skin and accentuates every curve, her dark nipples and “OAP” tattoo visible underneath the sheer fabric. Good God, she’s a fantasy come to life. The goddess and the muse. Oh, fuck, I wanna eat her and fuck her right now. Right this fucking minute. Fuck all these gadgets and gizmos. I wanna make her come the way I did on the plane ride here, with nothing but my own body doing the honors, and then I wanna reach up inside her and touch that little spot I’ve only recently discovered...

  “Stop,” I blurt.

  Sarah abruptly stops walking toward me, her eyes wide.

  Oh. That’s funny. I was talking to myself. But I can work with this. “I didn’t tell you to walk toward me, did I?”

  She shakes her head, her entire face blazing with her arousal. “No, sir.” Her chest is heaving as much as mine.

  “You look sexy as hell, Sarah,” I say. Shit, my cock is throbbing. Why the hell did I make such a big deal about us doing everything differently tonight? All I wanna do right now is what I always do: eat her and fuck her and make her come over and over.

  “Thank you. Oh. Wait. May I speak?”

  “No. Only if asked a question.” Her erect nipples are like magnets to me.

  “I just wanted to say thank you in response to you saying I look sexy.”

  “Don’t speak.”

  “Okay. I won’t speak—unless asked a direct question, of course.” An unmistakable smirk flashes across her beautiful face. “Sir.”

  “I saw that little smirk just now, Sarah Cruz. Do it again and I’ll fuck it right off your face.”

  Her mouth straightens out and she adopts what I imagine is her attempt at an obedient expression, though she still looks like a total and complete smart-ass to me.

  I’m dizzy with my desire for her.

  “Turn around,” I say smoothly.

  She complies and my mouth literally waters at the sight of her backside. The teddy she’s wearing turns into nothing but a network of sparse strings in the back, all converging into one thin, white line that disappears down her ass crack—or, rather, down my ass crack, I should say. Propiedad de Jonas Faraday, the tattoo on her ass-cheek declares in bold lettering. Which, roughly translated, means, Fuck you, Will Motherfucking “2Real” Piece-of-Shit-Asswipe-Hip-Hop-Motherfucking-Douche, and anyone else who even thinks about fucking my property. She’s all mine.

  I remove my jeans and briefs and then move to my laptop. After briefly scrolling through my music, I find what I’m looking for: “Uprising” by Muse. Yes, victory will be ours tonight. I press play on the thumping song and turn back around.

  “Bend over,” I say. “And grab your ankles.”

  She bends over, exactly as instructed, and I’m treated to the delectable sight of the underside of her pussy peeking out through the sheer fabric of her lingerie. My mouth waters again. Shit. I want her. I touch my cock. My tip is already wet. I stroke my shaft for a moment, letting her stand there bent over, marinating deliciously in her excited anticipation.

  Fuck what I said about a slow burn. I want to bite her and nip her and suck her and eat her and lick her and fuck her. I wanna make her come and plunge my cock into her and feel her body constricting and clenching around me. In other words, I wanna do what I always do to her—because what I always do is fucking awesome. Because I’m a fucking samurai—and my cock is my sword. I’m a Judo master. I’m a woman wizard. An artist. A climber.

  I’m a god among men.

  I really am.

  Just the way I am.

  But no.

  My baby wants to try kink. She’s curious. Not dissatisfied, she says, just curious. But curiosity is a distant cousin of dissatisfaction, whether she knows it or not—and I’m not planning on my baby ever experiencing even a hint of dissatisfaction, ever. Not on my watch.

  She’s still standing there, bent over, her pussy peeking out between her thighs, her ass-tattoo making me salivate.

  I exhale slowly, trying to calm my arousal. I need to calm my shit down. I need to keep my eye on the prize. Slow burn, motherfucker. Slow fucking burn.

  I stand for a long moment, staring at her, stroking my erection, letting the loud music wash over me. I’ve always particularly liked this view of a woman.

  “Jonas?” she asks, still bent over and waiting for me.

  “I didn’t give you permission to speak,” I say, stroking myself. “I’m doing exactly what I want to be doing right now. You can wait like that forever, for all I care. I’m getting off and that’s all that matters.”

  She makes a sound of pleasure and shifts her weight slightly. “Okay, sir. Sorry.”

  What would I normally do right now? Kneel down and go to church, no doubt, and then fuck her. Which means I need to do something different. Well, looks like I’m an ass-man tonight.

  I grab the lube and the vibrating anal dildo off the nightstand and move toward her, my cock throbbing. I bend down behind her, push her G-string aside, part her ass cheeks, and lick the rim of her anus, eliciting instantaneous moans from her. I lick her for not even a minute when, without warning, her asshole clenches under my tongue and begins convulsing with what seems like a powerful orgasm.

  I pull back in shock. Holy fuck. That wasn’t supposed to happen. I was just trying to get her loosened up before slipping the dildo inside her. Okay, obviously this whole get-her-close-to-orgasm-repeatedly-and-then-pull-back strategy is a non-starter. This woman is on fire tonight in a way I’ve never seen her before.

  “Stand back up and face me.”

  She does.

  Oh man, she’s glowing with her arousal.

  I slowly peel the teddy off her body, letting my hands graze the entire length of her as I pull it down to the floor. “It’s awfully pretty,” I say. “But I don’t want a goddamned thing impeding my access to my pretty baby.” I throw the teddy across the room emphatically. “Fuck that shit.”

  Her chest is rising and falling violently. She looks ready to come at the slightest touch.

  “Resume your position,” I say.

  She turns around and bends over again.

  “Grab your ankles.”

  She does.

  I lube up my finger and slide it down her ass crack and then all the way to her pussy and she lets out a long, guttural moan. I massage her clit for a few minutes, until she’s making the sound before The Sound, and then slide my fingers back to her ass and gently slide the dildo into her.

  Her entire body stiffens.

  I pause. “Relax,” I say, rubbing her back with my free hand. “Take a deep breath,” I coax, and she does. “Another one,” I say softly, and she inhales long and deep. As she exhales, I push gently on the dildo again and it slides into her ass with ease. I rub her back one more time, commanding her to stay bent over, and then flip the switch on the dildo to the lowest vibration setting.

  “Oh my God,” she moans. “Wow.”

  “Ssh.”

  I slide my fingers back to her pussy and slip them inside her, finding my target, and then slowly slide my cock inside her.

 
Whoa. The low vibration from the dildo next-door feels incredible. Holy fucking shit. Oh my God. This feels amazing. I begin thrusting in and out of her warm wetness, slowly, ever so slowly, acclimating myself to the vibrations from the dildo next door—each rhythmic movement of my body against hers gently pushing that dildo in and out of her ass.

  “Oh my God,” Sarah says. “Jonas. Oh my God.”

  I thrust in and out of her, increasing my speed and depth, pulling her hips into me as I do, pushing rhythmically against that dildo, reveling in the sensation of her tight wetness vibrating and constricting around my cock. Holy fuck, this is like nothing I’ve experienced before. This is good. Damn, I owe the sex-toy industry a huge apology for not appreciating their brilliance before this moment. You’re geniuses, all of you.

  I reach down to the vibe, flip it to the next highest speed, and simultaneously increase the depth and speed of my thrusts—and Sarah and I both simultaneously lose our shit.

  “Oh my God!” she screams, her entire body lurching and jolting. “Stop, Jonas. It’s too much. Oh my God. You’ve got to stop. Oh. My. God. Oh. My. God. Oh. My. Fucking. God.”

  But I don’t stop. Fuck no, I don’t. In fact, a minute later, I flip the vibe on high and fuck her even harder, splitting her in two with my cock and ramming that dildo up her ass with each slamming thrust of my body.

  The sounds she’s making aren’t human. I half expect her to use the magic word and force me to stop, but she doesn’t. Hallelujah, she doesn’t. I reach underneath my balls to find her clit and when I touch her there, she convulses like I’ve thrown a hairdryer into her bath.

  “Oh shit. Fuck,” she says. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Oh, fuck.”

  And that’s the last thing she says before her body twists and wrenches so violently against my cock—so forcefully—I’m momentarily afraid for her. Oh my God. I can physically feel her innards twisting like a wet washcloth being wrung out over a tub. This isn’t a convulsion. I don’t know what the fuck this is. Whatever it is, it’s so hot, so fucking hot, I’m this close to losing myself completely.

  Which means I have to stop. Motherfucker.

  I pull out of her, though it physically pains me to do it, and gently glide the dildo out of her ass.

  She crumples to the ground, a glistening, nonverbal pile of olive skin and matted hair and big brown eyes and glistening pussy and erect, dark nipples, all of it mouthwatering.

  My hard-on is raging. My chest is heaving. My head is spinning. The Muse song is thumping in my ears, spurring me on. Victory will be mine.

  I part her legs and lick her juices off her thighs and then mack down on her lips and clit and hole like I’m competing in a blueberry-pie-eating contest on the Fourth of July. She throws her head back against the marble floor with a loud thwack and makes a tortured yelping sound as her body begins warping against my lips.

  I know I’m supposed to be “tickling” her on a bondage sheet right now like the Dom-in-training I am, but fuck it. All that bullshit can wait. Fuck what Sarah wants. For once this is about what I want and nothing else. Fuck yeah, it is. And I want to make my baby squirt all over the goddamned floor.

  I bring one of her legs up to her ear and plunge myself into her sweet, warm wetness and fuck the shit out of her until she’s growling like a bear caught in a trap.

  “Yes,” she says between gritted teeth, sweat pouring down her face. “Yes.”

  “Push out,” I say. “Let go, baby.”

  She comes again, this time like a roaring freight train, howling and cursing and convulsing. It’s good—it’s very, very good—but it’s definitely not The Culmination. And, tonight, I won’t settle for anything less.

  Her hair is matted against her face. Her skin is soaking wet. She’s a ragged, wretched, hot mess. I pull my cock out of her and slide my fingers deep inside her and find her G-spot.

  “No more,” she says. “I can’t. Please, Jonas. I’m done.”

  I ignore her. My fingers find her G-spot, my usual stomping grounds these days, and then migrate to that delicious trip-chord I’ve only recently discovered. Holy shit. That sucker’s twice as engorged as when I milked her in the nursery. It’s literally throbbing under my fingertip, on the very cusp of releasing. But, shit, I promised I wouldn’t push the Ding Dong button on her vending machine ever again—and a promise is a promise. Fuck me. I go back to her G-spot and stroke her fervently, kissing her mouth as I do, and she writhes feverishly under my touch.

  All of a sudden, I hear a subtle whooshing sound from deep inside her and my cock jolts as surely as if she just licked it from ball to tip. My finger inside her physically twitches with yearning. Oh, how I wanna pull on her magic trip-chord and push that delicious Ding Dong button of hers. Oh, yeah, baby, I wanna make it rain.

  But shit. No. I promised not to push that goddamned button ever again. I promised to let her do it for herself, organically. Fuck me. Motherfucking fuck me.

  I go back to working her G-spot, getting her ramped up the way she likes it best. And she responds like a champ, like she always does.

  But I don’t want what she always does tonight. Tonight, I’m getting The Culmination and nothing less. Fucksellence. A brand new peak.

  “Oh my God,” she says, writhing under me, clawing at me, beads of sweat trickling down the space between her breasts. “I can’t. Oh, fuck.”

  I keep massaging her, stroking her with my fingers, teasing her salty breasts with my tongue. Fuck. I know I’m supposed to be cuffing her to a fucking bondage sheet right now, but I can’t bring myself to bother with that bullshit just yet. Maybe, instead of using a tickler on her, I’ll just tickle the button on her vending machine? I won’t push it, no, because a promise is a promise, but how about I just tickle it enough to coax her into pushing it herself?

  I stroke her trip-chord, ever so gently, hardly at all. “Push out, baby,” I groan. “Let go.”

  “Oh my God. Oh my God,” she says, her voice desperate.

  I’m about to lose control of myself, even with no direct stimulation to my cock at all. It’s just that good. How the hell is she hanging on right now? Jesus God Lord Almighty.

  I touch her magic trip-chord again. It’s so full, one little flick of my fingertip ought to make her blow like a geyser. I flick. And then I flick again. But nothing happens. So I give it the gentlest stroke downward, just a teeny bit, coaxing her to let go, but nope. Nothing again.

  Fuck.

  “Come on, baby,” I whisper. “You can do it.”

  I go back to stroking her G-spot, but this time with a savage vengeance.

  “Jonas, no. Oh, fuck. Fuck.” She’s gasping for air, involuntarily thrusting her pelvis back and forth, whimpering and groaning as my fingers continue to work her.

  I flick her trip-chord again. And then I return to stroking her G-spot. Back and forth I go, back and forth. Luring her to the edge of the towering waterfall and inviting her to jump off all by herself like a big girl. Back and forth. To the edge of the waterfall and away. But she doesn’t fucking jump. She just stands at the rocky edge, her knees knocking, her eyes wide. Oh, she’s on fire, that’s for sure. No doubt about it. Hot as the hinges of hell—but, still, she’s not pushing out and letting go completely.

  Motherfucker.

  Clearly, she can’t do it for herself. She needs to be pushed.

  “Come on, pretty baby. Let go for me.”

  I stroke her G-spot again and again and again, kissing her mouth, devouring her, pressing my wet tip against her, and she moans and bucks wildly underneath me. She’s out of her head, so turned-on she can’t breathe, but still no geyser.

  Well, fuck.

  I’ve never worked her this long and hard before. Normally, I’d have pushed her forcefully off one cliff or another by now and started fucking her, rather than sitting here tickling her fucking Ding Dong button for thirty fucking minutes. But, goddammit, I can’t let it go. I want this. I need this. So I keep going.

  Half a minute later, another d
elicious whooshing noise sounds from deep inside her—louder than ever—and that trip-chord strains under my fingertip like a dam about to burst.

  I tickle it again and nothing happens.

  And then again.

  Oh my fucking God.

  Fuck it.

  Some promises were made to be broken.

  I clamp my middle and ring fingers together, tightening my grip around that thick chord right behind her G-spot, push down, up and in, kissing her fervently as I do... and that’s it. Sarah lets out a massive shriek as a river of fluid gushes out of her and all over me.

  Holy shit! Oh my fucking God, I’ve never seen so much cum in one place in all my fucking life. It’s five times more than the first time I did this to her—maybe ten times more. Enough cum to fill a small bucket! It’s all over me. All over her. It’s literally whooshing across the marble floor and turning into a slick, glistening puddle of deliciousness.

  And the best part? Sarah’s convulsing on the floor with what seems to be the most intense full-body orgasm of her entire life. This motherfucker’s a full-body seizure, complete with flailing limbs and rolling eyes. Jesus Christ Almighty, this woman is getting saved at a Baptist revival by the spirit of the lord right now! Any minute, she’s gonna start speaking in tongues. This is the hottest thing I’ve ever witnessed, bar none.

  Before Sarah’s even done climaxing, I lean in and lap up the wetness dripping off her thighs and pussy, stroking my cock as I do.

  “Oh my God,” she says, squirming against my tongue. “Jonas,” she breathes. “Please, Jonas, lord-god-master, whatever. Fuck me.” She reaches for my cock and tries to guide me into her, tilting her pelvis up to me as she does.

  My cock is gonna explode. Oh God, I’m in fucking pain.

  I scoop Sarah’s sweaty, dripping body off the floor and throw her onto the bed with a loud grunt.

  “Yes,” she purrs, writhing with her arousal. “Yes.”

  The Muse song is crashing in my ears, goading me on.