by Angel Devlin
Her hand squeezes my cock and I lose my train of thought. Wrapping my hand around the back of her neck, I pull her lips to mine despite the fact her bright red lipstick is going to be all over my face in seconds.
She’s panting for more by the time we pull up outside XCluSiv. Her eyes are wide as she stares at the black and chrome signage and doors. There’s not all that much to see from the outside but it screams exclusive and expensive.
After thanking the driver, I help her out. I don’t need to show security my pass, they know who I am by now, and with a nod of Wayne’s head, he opens the doors for us. I walk Mia towards the bar with my hand in the small of her back. It’s Saturday night so the bar is busy, but not so busy that we can’t find ourselves a secluded booth at the back to slip into.
I ensured that the guys wouldn’t be here tonight after inviting Mia. I know they would all be discreet if I asked them to be, but I don’t want to get them involved in something that’s about to blow up. They’re probably the only ones who could make me sit and think about what I’m about to do and that’s the last thing I need right now. I’ve started this, now I need to see it through to its painful end. At least when it’s all done, no matter how much it might hurt, I know it’ll cause him the most agony, and that’s what I need. I need him knowing what happens when you screw over those you love time and time again. He might think he’s the master manipulator, but he’s going to discover that the apple really doesn’t fall all that far because I’m about to match him move for motherfucking move.
“This place is nice,” Mia says looking around at the mirrored walls and giant chandeliers hanging from the ceiling.
“It is, but what’s downstairs is better.” I pull her closer to me so her side is pressed up against mine and wrap my arm around her waist.
She goes to say something but the appearance of a waitress cuts her off. I order her the same bottle of champagne that she had the first time we met and my usual whiskey.
“Why, Mr. King, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to get me drunk,” Mia says when the bottle arrives, and I pour her a generous glassful.
“I just want you to be comfortable. You don’t have to drink it.”
She laughs, lifting the glass to her lips. “I think my inhibitions could do with vanishing if we’re going to make the most of tonight.”
“I can’t argue with that.”
We spend a couple of hours chatting and drinking. She tells me about filming and what a douchebag her ex is. Even the mention of his name has my muscles locking up. The line between pretending to be the man she wants me to be and actually being him is really starting to blur and it’s not thrilling me one bit. I focus on my memories of my mother breaking down after discovering my father left her and try to block everything else out. Means to an end. Means to an end, I repeat over and over.
By the beginning of her third glass, Mia is starting to loosen up. Leaning over, I place my lips to her neck and pepper kisses up to her ear. She moans. It vibrates through my lips and right to my cock.
Fuck, I need her. I need to feel her coming apart beneath me, her soft mewls and cries for more.
Finding her bare thigh under the table I set about taking what I need. I trail my fingertip up until I hit the hem of her dress, but I don’t stop, not even when she warns me and tries to push my hand back down to a more respectable position.
“Now that’s disappointing, Mia,” I groan in her ear when I find her lace covered pussy. “I was imagining there was nothing between me and your cunt like last night.”
“This dress is a little short for that.” She laughs nervously.
“Hmmm… I think our opinions on that matter might vary somewhat.”
She gasps when I tuck the lace to the side and slip my fingers between her folds.
“Oh God, Deacon.”
“Always so fucking wet,” I groan in her ear, slipping my finger lower and finding her entrance.
Her fingers grip around my wrist but she makes no effort to push me away; totally the opposite in fact.
Her head falls back against the high cushion behind her as her release gets within touching distance. Her pussy clenches around my finger signalling her imminent fall and I pull my hand away.
“What the fuck?” Her glassy eyes find mine and narrow when I smile at her.
“Ready to experience everything downstairs has to offer?”
Her chin drops in shock. I know it’s a low blow to get her on the cusp of release and to suggest we finish it downstairs, but I have every confidence that she’s too inquisitive to leave tonight without so much as a visit downstairs. Her curious mind will want to know the kinds of things that go on down there.
She confirms my thoughts when she speaks.
“Deacon King, take me to the dark side.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Mia
Grasping my hand, his fingers wet with my juices, he guides me to the back of the bar and through a door marked PRIVATE. My legs feel a little like a newborn giraffe’s. I’m not sure if it’s nerves or the alcohol I’ve consumed. Or maybe it’s the fact he left me on the cusp of orgasm and I’m desperate to have Deacon inside me again.
We walk down some stairs, which I’m very careful to descend given my wobbly leg situation, and then a bouncer on the door nods and lets us inside yet another doorway.
I take in my surroundings. We’re in another bar area. All brown and burned orange tones to the decor. Beech tables and bar. It looks so… ordinary. Maybe this was all a joke?
I turn to look at Deacon. My thoughts must be written on my face. “Don’t be fooled. This is just a place to relax away from the main rooms.”
“Oh.”
“Shall we? Or do you want a drink first?”
“I’ve had a drink or two. Show me where the action happens,” I assert.
“Good girl.” He smiles in approval.
Then I’m led through yet another door and this time I’m taken through to a room that looks anything but ordinary. Two walls are covered in mirrors as is the ceiling. The two other walls have bars on them and hooks. There are racks of equipment and things I can’t identify suspended from the ceiling.
“Well, if it wasn’t painted orange, I’d have said it was the red room,” I quip.
We’re the only ones in the room, yet the bar had been quite full. “Is this room not very popular?” I ask him.
He smirks. “Baby, I had this room put out of bounds for anyone else to use tonight, unless you ask me to change that.”
Relief makes my shoulders sag. I’d not realised how much tension I was holding in my body. “Thank you. I’d like to get to know the stuff in here without anyone seeing my innocence.”
“Oh you’re not going to be innocent for long, Mia.” My pussy pools with his huskily barked statement.
“So where would you like to start?” he asks.
“I’m going to leave it up to you to show me a good time, Mr. King.” I unfasten my dress and strip out of it, leaving me in the red lacy bra and panties I’d worn.
Deacon’s tongue sweeps out over his top lip. He slowly removes his own clothing until he is completely naked, his cock weeping and ready for me.
He picks up a leather cuff from a shelf and fits it around my wrist and then does the same to my other hand. Directing me over to the wall, he turns me to face it and then fastens my wrists one by one to a rail suspended above my head. I hear him move and look over my shoulder, seeing him get two more cuffs. These he secures around my ankles and then he fastens these to a lower bar. My hands are spread wide now and so are my thighs.
“Time to show you how pleasure and pain can be a heady mix, Mia.” Deacon states. I hear his footsteps walks away from me, but I don’t attempt to work out what he’s doing this time. All I know is I’m in my underwear and anything could happen, but it’s Deacon, and he will take care of me.
My pants are ripped off my body.
“Oh my god, I liked those,” I complain
.
“Shouldn’t have worn them then, you know I have form,” he whispers in my ear.
The cooler air of the room seems to migrate to my arse cheeks.
“My butt’s cold,” I moan.
I jump as something hits my arse cheek, making it smart slightly. It’s followed by Deacon’s hand massaging my flesh.
“Stop complaining. I’m about to warm you up.”
“What is that?”
“It’s a flogger. Nothing too dramatic for your first time,” he informs me. “Now excuse me while I just get rid of this bra. My eyes widen as I see the glint of a knife blade and he slices through the straps of my bra, undoes the back and it hits the floor.
“W- why do they keep knives here?”
“They don’t. I keep a knife, Mia, because many people would like to mess with Deacon King, and many people have had to be shown not to.”
I begin to wonder exactly who Deacon King is. I knew he was a bad arse businessman but surely he never hurt anyone?
“Anyway, I’m putting it back in my pocket now, safely away. Its job is done. Although even bad things can provide pleasure. Me for instance.”
He turns the blade around and runs the handle up my right thigh. I whimper. He trails it up, up, up nearer to my pussy and I wonder what the fuck he is going to do. And then he stops and walks away.
When he returns he whispers close to my ear, “Now where were we?”
He lifts the flogger down my front, the leather strands softly tickling at my breasts, teasing my nipples until they’re stiff peaks. Deacon is pressed up against me and I can feel his hardness behind me. He trails the flogger down over my stomach causing my skin to goose bump and then he lightly trails it between my thighs, the tassels teasing at my cunt. I arch up against it and Deacon moves it away.
“Please?” I beg. Now I know just how tantalising the restraints at my wrists and feet are, because I’m powerless right now. Anything could happen. Deacon could let anyone in.
“Deacon?”
“Yes.”
“What if someone came in now? Saw you owning me?”
He stills. “Is that what you want, Mia? I’m not taking the lead on that part of this situation.”
“Yes.”
Deacon walks over to the doorway and presses an intercom.
The door opens and closes. I can see nothing from my position facing the wall.
“Are they here?”
“I’m here.” A different male voice sounds out.
I smile to myself.
“Deacon, own me,” I demand.
The flogger hits my arse cheek again, harder this time.
“You are mine, Mia Hamilton. This man may be watching us, but he will never get to touch you. Do I make myself clear?”
I deliberately don’t answer to see what happens.
The flogger hits across my butt cheeks as Deacon sounds out.
“You.
Are.
MINE.
You.
Belong.
To.
Me.”
My cheeks tingle where they’ve been flogged.
“Who do you belong to, Mia?”
“You,” I utter. His hands begin to massage the tingling skin. I enjoy his ministrations. Deacon begins to move the flogger back between my thighs, pushing it slightly into my pussy.
“Fuck.” I gasp.
The flogger is discarded and then the cheeks of my arse are being parted and something cold is pushing at my puckered hole.
“Relax, Mia. It’s a butt plug. I’m making sure every part of you is taken care of.”
I close my eyes and feel the sensation, letting myself open up so the plug can fill me. Then Deacon is holding my breast where he fixes a clip onto my nipple. It stings but I like it. He does the same to my other breast.
He places his hand between my legs, and I can feel he has more than one finger pushing into my cunt.
“Are you ready for me, Mia?”
“Yes.”
“Are you wanting to be watched?”
“Yes, please.”
“But you agree that you are mine and mine alone?”
“I agree.”
Footsteps move and to my left I see a man with dark hair stand at the side of us. He wears a mask, so I have no idea who he is.
“The man wants to know if he can touch himself while he watches.”
My core floods more.
“Yes, he can.”
“You come nowhere near her though. She’s mine. You come in your hand. We clear?”
“Clear.” The man says, already unfastening his own trousers. I watch as he exposes his cock and grasps it firmly.
And then Deacon removes his fingers and thrusts his own cock inside me. The restraints pull at my wrists and ankles as he thrusts hard. He’s rougher than he’s ever been before. If I had to say why, I would say he was jealous that I wanted another man watching, and although he’s done it for me, he’s laying claim to me in no uncertain terms. Thoughts I’ve never had before spin through my mind. I want him to claim me, own me, humiliate me even, as long as the other man is clear that I belong to Deacon King.
The man makes me feel more than I’ve ever experienced in my life. He plays with me, teases me, torments me, loves me. With him I feel like I’m living. He makes me feel alive.
“Harder,” I shout out.
In my peripheral vision I can see the visitor tugging at his cock, but I no longer care about him. This is about Deacon and me, becoming one as he fucks me until my legs want to fold. I feel full with him and the butt plug and shamelessly wanton. As his hand comes around my front and he pinches my clit, I detonate around him, climaxing so hard I see stars. He follows me over, riding out his own release. I hear a grunt from our mystery guest, and I know he’s come too. I feel spaced out, satisfied and now I just want to lie down.
“Go.” Deacon demands of the man and he immediately leaves. He undoes my arms and legs, picks me up and walks me over to a chaise in the corner of the room where he lies us both down, pulling a blanket around us.
“Just relax. That was quite an experience.” His fingertips trail up my arm causing more goose bumps.
“I feel so chilled, so satisfied. It’s making me feel sleepy,” I tell him.
“So close your eyes. This room is ours for as long as we need it,” he tells me.
I do. Between my thighs is soaked still. I have the most delicious ache between my legs and right now the plug is still in my arse. I guide Deacon’s hand there and he laughs and removes it, and then he takes the clips off my breasts. He massages each of my nipples, as my eyes close.
Just before I fall asleep, I swear he tells me he’s sorry, but I must have misheard.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Deacon
Something unpleasant claws at my insides as I watch Mia drift off to sleep. This woman who I thought I had all figured out before our first meeting never ceases to amaze me. I really thought she’d change her mind about tonight. I expected to show her all of this and for her to run a mile back to her fancy penthouse and easy life. But in reality her eyes lit up like I’d just told her it was Christmas morning and she dived right in. Standing back and taking her in cuffed to the restraints against the wall was something else. This isn’t the first time I’ve ventured down here for a good time, but fuck, I think it might be the last unless by some fucking miracle Mia agrees to accompany me again. But after what’s about to blow up in her face, I very much doubt she’s going to talk to me again, let alone allow me within touching distance.
Despite just having the most intense orgasm of my life only minutes ago, every muscle in my body is pulled tight.
Knowing that if I stay by her side there’s a very good chance I’ll wake her and take her none too gently again, I stand and take a few steps back. I drape the blanket over her to stop her getting cold before pulling on my boxers and trousers.
Without a backwards glance, I walk from the room.
Finding anot
her door with a private sign on it, I push through.
“I’m sorry this is—oh.” Rex’s eyes widen as he turns from his seat at the desk and finds me standing there no doubt looking like a man possessed. “Is everything okay?” He regards me sceptically. He’s probably wondering if I’m regretting asking him to join us and that I’m about to wipe the memory from his head with my fists. But it’s not that.
I asked Rex to stand in and give my girl what she craved because I knew he was safe. He’d protect my secrets with his life, just like his brothers, Tyler and Oliver.
“Fuck,” I roar, planting my fist in the bare wall beside me. The pain shoots up my arm, but it does little to dampen down the raging inferno inside me.
I do it again and again until the cream paint is stained with my blood and my chest is heaving with exertion.
Resting both my forearms on the wall, I rest my forehead against them as I fight to catch my breath.
What the fuck has that woman done to me? Or more importantly what exactly am I about to do to her? She trusts me. Fuck, she says she loves me, and I’ve got no reason to think she’s lying.
“Fuck,” I shout again, spinning so my back is to the cold wall.
Feeling eyes on me, I glance over at Rex.
“This isn’t about me, is it?” The relief on his face almost makes me laugh.
“This has fuck all to do with you and everything to do with me,” I mutter, cryptically.
“Riiight.” He’s used to my brand of fucked up by now. He might be the youngest of the three, but he’s about as screwed up as the rest of us in his own little way. The fact he agreed to be a one man show for our little adventure tonight says a lot without even mentioning how much he enjoyed it.
I stare at him, my chest heaving, and the words—my confession—right on the tip of my tongue. My need to tell someone that the woman I brought here tonight means more to me than anyone I’ve ever met, but I can’t because that’s not what this is. This is a means to an end to get what I’ve craved since I was old enough to know what kids and wives deserve from the man in their life.
