by Livia Grant
I run my knuckle down her bare breastbone, between her cleavage. Her heart rate has steadied and her body temperature is coming back to normal. “You seem like the kind of woman who could do anything she put her mind to.”
She nods. “I know. So it’s just figuring out what I want to put my mind to.”
Stay in D.C. Work for me.
It’s frightening how quickly those words pop into my mind. But that’s the craziest idea I’ve had. I’ve sworn off relationships, and I don’t even know this woman. Besides, you don’t mix sex with business. Especially not with employees.
And yet the idea is there in my mind. Not having her as an employee so much as a partner.
She’s definitely partner material. Business partner. Life partner.
I can see her schmoozing my high-end customers, making the women feel at ease when they hire my security firm, finding the right fit of bodyguard to client.
But she doesn’t even live here.
Yeah, but nothing’s keeping her in Brooklyn, either, the voice in my head argues.
She twists to fully face me. “What about you? What do you do?”
“Guess.”
A sexy smile plays around her mouth. “Well, I don’t think you’re a stockbroker. Or a politician.”
“You’re right.”
She leans back, eyes traveling across my shoulders, as if measuring my size will give her the answer. “Honestly, you look more like a boxer than a businessman. Please tell me what you do is legal.”
I give a short bark of laughter. “It is. But you’re right—I was a boxer growing up. Had plenty of fights on the streets, too. I didn’t grow up with money or opportunity. But I was determined to make a different life than the one I had. I was dyslexic, so school didn’t come easily for me. Considering my only real assets were my fists, I decided to make a living from them. Started as a bouncer for a club at age sixteen. Now I have my own security firm.”
I’ve said more than I usually say to people about my background, but my past feels safe with her. She’s my kind. She’ll get it. I knew that from the start.
She shifts on my lap, tunnels her fingers into my thick curly hair. “That’s a pretty big jump, from bouncer to Italian suits.” She’s purring, like she finds me more attractive now that she knows my story. It’s everything I can do not to yank those lowered panties to the side and impale her with my thick rod. Show her just how impressive I can be.
I know sinking into her will be heaven. I definitely plan to be there by the end of the night. Sooner, if I can help it.
I rub my thumb across her pouty lips. I’m gonna need that mouth. Soon.
“I was ambitious, but I wasn’t looking beyond the neighborhood until one day I landed a private bodyguard job for an actress. I realized that was where the money was. I started gathering a team of discreet, gentlemanly muscle and eventually moved to D.C. to capitalize on the glut of high-end, high-profile clients here.”
She leans in and moves her lips against my neck. For a second, I’m paralyzed, the pleasure of her attention so sharp and pure.
“Are you going to leave this tail in me all night?” She uses a bedroom voice and brushes her lips over my neck, like she’s trying to seduce me into taking it out.
I laugh. “I was making up my mind about what to do next. I could leave it in and go straight to your Sybian orgasm torture. I wouldn’t mind spending the next hour eating your pussy and listening to you scream.”
Her face flushes at that pronouncement.
“But first I want your mouth.”
Mariana
“Yes, sir.”
Did I actually just say that? It slipped out, just as easily as any other words, and yet I never in a thousand years thought I’d be calling my sex partner sir. But hey, I never knew I’d have one this magnetic, either.
I slither to my knees in front of him. After the orgasm he just gave me, I’m happy to reciprocate. I definitely noticed the steel of the bulge pressing against my hip when I was on his lap.
I lick my lips as he pulls his thick cock out. “That must hurt,” I murmur sympathetically.
He slaps my face with it.
I’m not fucking kidding. I figure it’s punishment for giving an alpha male sympathy.
I should be incredibly insulted, but I’m not, because the heat in his eyes mesmerizes me. He stares at my mouth, eyes darkened with desire. He picks up the leash attached to my collar and catches my wrists. “Behind your back, baby. You don’t get to control.”
I’m slightly offended, even though I know this is the game they play here. “You want me helpless.”
“No. You like to be forced.”
That takes my breath away. As he twists my arms behind my back and cinches them together with the leather leash, it occurs to me he might be right. I don’t like to obey. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want an aggressive man. Because this man is all alpha male, and he’s made my body come alive in ways I didn’t know were possible.
“Admit it,” he challenges me.
Make me. That’s all I can think. I’m not about to admit something like that to him, even if he is right. I’m not really the type to concede. I lift my chin.
His lips twitch, but he fists my hair and his cock and brings my mouth between his legs. I open my lips, very aware my pussy is squeezing, and I’m beyond turned on.
“Show me what that luscious mouth can do.” He pulls my head forward until I have to almost swallow his cock to keep from gagging.
I make a sound of protest, but it’s muffled. I try to pull my arms free, but the leash bites into my wrists.
He lets me back off. “Easy, beautiful. That leash isn’t ideal for tying up hot women from Brooklyn. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.” He doesn’t give me a chance to answer, because he pulls my head forward to take all of his cock again. I suck hard. I don’t know—it doesn’t make sense, but the only way I can get back at him is to make it good, so I do.
His groan is my triumph. His fingers tighten in my hair and he moves my head for short, shallow strokes. My pussy leaks arousal onto my thighs. Nipples burn and ache.
I hum.
His thighs tremble.
“Admit it,” he growls, like he’s angry. “You like to be forced.”
“Mmm mmm,” I sound around his engorged flesh.
“No? Tell me this, baby. If I had a gun at your head, would this be even hotter?”
Oh my fucking god.
I almost come. Or maybe I did come. There was definitely a spasm in my core, heat pouring down my inner thighs.
He pulls my mouth off his cock and commands me with a look. “Would it?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
It’s like my words bring his orgasm crashing in, because he shoves into my mouth and pulls me over his cock, rubbing the roof of my mouth on each instroke.
I hollow my cheeks, slide my tongue along the underside of his cock.
He shouts, tightening his grip in my hair as he comes.
My hips jerk, pussy squeezing as I swallow his essence.
Victor’s touch immediately gentles. “Baby.” He strokes my cheek with his thumb. “That was so good.”
I lick him clean and sit back on my heels, pleased with myself.
He chuckles. “You like making me lose control, don’t you, angel?”
I smirk. “Just giving back what I get.”
He unwraps my wrists and rubs away the redness. “So it’s time for a negotiation.”
I understand the word because Sara mentioned it, but I didn’t think there would be any negotiations tonight. The roulette wheel has been spun, or whatever the saying would be.
Victor
“I have an idea for Dom’s Choice. Something I’m gonna have to talk to you about first.” I bring my hand to cage her throat and stroke my thumb over her pulse.
“What is it?” She sounds breathless.
I have a hunch about what might get her off. Push her boundaries a little, too. A lot, actually.
She goes still and scrapes her teeth over her lower lip.
I plunge forward. I know what I know. I’m right about her, but that doesn’t mean she’ll agree to it, or even like it if she’s not willing to admit it to herself.
“You just admitted you like to be forced. I think you want to be wrestled down. Taken roughly. Am I right?”
Color suffuses her neck, running across her chest. “I-I don’t know.” Her head wobbles on her neck.
“Think about how you felt when I had you up against that wall, baby. Did you like it?”
“Yeah.” Her answer is not much more than a whisper, but she doesn’t hesitate when she gives it.
“When I forced the blowjob? It pissed you off, but you also loved it. Am I right?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
I give a single nod. “That’s what I thought. So we could try a scene where I force you. You struggle, I hold you down. Fuck you hard. Would you like that?”
A nervous laugh erupts from her. “You’re kinda blowing my mind right now, Victor. Are you talking about… rape?”
I hold her gaze evenly. “It’s one of the most common fantasies for women.”
“Yeah, okay.” Her voice barely scrapes out.
“Okay, you want to try it, or okay, you understand what I’m proposing?”
“Okay, I want to try it.”
The surge of victory that pumps through me isn’t because I’m dying to pseudo-rape her. It’s about her trust in me. That I might be able to give her a mind-blowing fantasy, and she feels safe enough with me to experiment.
I shift her hips so they hang over my thigh and find the tail in her ass. “All right, baby. I’m going to take this tail out, and then I’m going to go talk to Muscles over there so he understands we’re doing a scene and you’ve given your consent.” I lift my chin at the dungeon monitor holding up the wall near us.
The tail slips out easily, and I wrap it in a washcloth and tuck it back in my bag. “Wait here, beautiful. I’ll be right back.” I straighten her panties and nudge her off my lap and onto the sofa. “If any man—or woman—comes near you, you better tell them you’re waiting for me. Understand?”
She smirks.
I stand. “You remember the consequences,” I remind her.
She rolls her eyes. “You’re lucky I didn’t introduce you to my right hook. You know how I like to fight back.”
I chuckle as I go talk things over with Muscles.
Chapter 4
Mariana
Holy shit, what did I just agree to?
My heart races but it’s not with fear. I’m super turned on.
I honestly have never even admitted to myself that I have rape fantasies. I mean, how could I? What self-respecting woman wants a man to force her to have sex? Especially a ball-buster like me?
I can’t even analyze what it means about me. All I know is that Victor’s right. The idea sends my pulse skittering out of control. I’m beyond excited about this plan of his.
And I don’t want to analyze what it means about him, either, that he wants to do this.
No, he’s not a rapist. I saw no spark of irrational excitement in him either when he held me against the wall or when he proposed this scene. I only saw lust. I only heard consideration. He may be turned on by the idea, but he’s not psycho. He’d recognize my safe word.
And suddenly the idea of using it becomes real. This may very well cross over into too much. This isn’t some grit my teeth and bear it spanking. It’s something that might frighten me, might hurt me in a way I never want to be hurt.
Giving my safe word wouldn’t be a failure in this situation. I give myself that out, right here and now. I’m not going to do something I’m not comfortable with just to win a bet. Sara wouldn’t want that.
Neither would Victor.
I’m sure of it.
I find Sara across the room. She’s straddling the padded sawhorse, taking a cane across the ass. I can only hope her partner is as sensitive and observant as mine.
Victor returns and drags me onto his lap. “You still up for this?” he asks, studying my face. I swear, I’ve known the guy for little more than an hour but it’s already like he can see straight into my soul. See the thoughts swirling in my head and the emotions twisting and fluttering in my gut.
I nod.
“All right…” His words cut off abruptly when a yell sounds out across the club. His arm tightens around me as we watch a man storm across the floor. After a moment, Victor relaxes.
“Who is that?” I ask.
“Don’t know and it doesn’t matter. Security is handling it.” Turning my face back to him, he picks up where he’d left off. “Okay, baby. I want you to go to the women’s locker room and change back into that sexy dress you were wearing when you got here. Then I want you to take a walk past those curtained rooms over there.” He points to the side of the room where several curtains hang.
I wait for more, but he doesn’t continue.
“That’s it?”
“I’ll find you there, babygirl. You remember your safeword?”
“Yes.” I’m proud of how even the word sounds while everything in me wobbles.
“Good. There’s no shame in using it if it gets too intense. But I’ll be in tune with you. I’ll be looking for signs of real distress, okay?”
My heart thuds faster than normal but there’s a gooey, appreciative warmth filling my chest, taking the edge off my nerves.
He cradles my face and pulls my lips to his for a kiss. It’s so much sweeter this time and also has reverence to it. Like it’s the seal to a contract.
Which I suppose it is.
He lifts me from his lap and sets me on my feet, giving my ass a slap. “See you in a few minutes.” He winks and it does something insane to my ovaries. He has thick curling lashes to match his hair. They somehow make him look even more manly and attractive.
I grab my dress and bra from where he’d tucked them into his duffel bag and head to the women’s locker room. My hands are cold and tremble slightly as I change back into my dress. Everything seems so changed. I’m a different person than I was two hours ago. I’ve had an incredible orgasm. Discovered serious attraction. Found out I might have a kink. Gotten way more intimate with a man than I have with any sexual partner. Ever.
I came to D.C. hoping to find myself.
I think I have. I just didn’t know I’d be losing myself at the same time.
I step out of the changing room and purposely don’t look around. I don’t want to know where Victor is or when to expect him. I’ve strutted around this room a few times, but flipping my hair and clacking my heels doesn’t feel right for this scene, so I just do my best to be normal. Whatever that means.
As I pass the second curtain, Victor reaches from behind it and grabs me, one hand over my mouth, one hand around my waist. “Not a sound, princess.”
The instinct to fight is immediate. I wrestle with him, marveling at the strength in his large body. He drags me into the small, living room type area with a couch. He presses my face up against the wall, bending my arms behind my back. Something smooth and silky binds my wrists. I twist to look—it’s his tie.
It strikes me as a perfect use for the grey and red striped fabric. The knots are snug but don’t cut into my flesh. I twist and turn my hands, attempting to get out of them, even though I don’t want to succeed.
“You can fight, baby,” Victor’s deep voice sounds beside my ear, “but you’ll never get free.” He brings his palm to my face and I think he’s going to cover my mouth again, but instead, he shoves his thumb between my lips. It’s not long enough to choke me, but has the feel of a forced blowjob, the invasion both sexual and unwelcome.
I shake my head to dislodge it, careful not to bite down. The moment his rough touch comes between my legs, I suck.
He fights my skirt out of the way and shoves his fingers down the front of my panties.
I’m unbelievably wet. Like, waterfall wet. One o
f his fingers sinks into my swollen entrance without any preparation. Like my body just opened for it. Guided it in.
“It’s a good thing you got this pussy wet for me, baby,” he growls, moving his hand between my legs, penetrating me with more than one finger now. “Because she’s about to get the roughest ride of her life.”
I whimper. Not because I’m at all afraid. It’s out of pure desire.
Victor drags his open mouth across my shoulder inside my dress, his teeth scraping along the flesh. “You don’t have any say about what I’m going to do with you. The more you fight it, the harder I’ll pound.”
Jesus.
My pussy clenches around his fingers. I’m about to orgasm from this bizarre brand of dirty talk.
He removes his thumb from my mouth and takes a fistful of hair at the back of my head. He uses it to propel me toward the couch. I think he’s going to put me on it, but he just grabs a cushion from the back and throws it on the floor. “On your knees.” He tugs my hair down.
The pain pisses me off, and I try to twist out of his grasp, but he instantly yanks me up off my feet with an arm banded around my waist. When I meet the floor again, it’s on my knees. Not on the cushion. Behind the cushion.
I understand a moment later when he shoves my torso down over the cushion, using it to lift my hips. I’m on my knees and my face, arms still bound behind my back.
Victor
“Spread those legs,” I order, not expecting her to comply. She doesn’t, so I nudge them wide with my knee, keeping one hand pressed in the center of her back, holding her torso down. She’s breathing quickly and her face is flushed, but her eyes are glazed with lust. I don’t see any sign of true discomfort or anguish.
I shove the skirt of her dress up her back and tear her panties down. I’d like to actually tear them off her body, but there’s too much fabric and I’m afraid I’ll bruise her with them before they actually rip. It’s one of those things that looks easier in the movies than it is in real life.
Her cunt is glossy, dripping with arousal, and I can’t help but drop the pretense of not caring for her pleasure for a moment.
