Club Alpha: BDSM Romance Boxed Set

by Amy Valenti

  He claimed my lips like I was all that he wanted, and when his hands found my shoulders and pulled me into his body, I sank into it, his muscular frame bracing my weight. I crushed myself into him, and he grabbed hungry fistfuls of my ass. Then the kiss broke, naturally, of its own accord, and I stared into his eyes and he into mine.

  The room around us, what he called his dungeon, no longer seemed cold nor uninviting. It seemed… appropriate. I was ready for whatever he wanted me to do for him, to him. For whatever he wanted to do for me… to me.

  “You won’t be needing this,” he said, slipping off my summer dress. It caught on my hips, and I wiggled them a little, and they fell to the floor, a puddle of fabric that my feet were dipped in. Completely naked, I felt cool, air-conditioned air on my skin, and my nipples stiffened into peaks.

  He seemed to consider me, eat up the sight of me. His aura was radiating something carnal, something still restrained. I longed to see what he was hiding within him, yearned to meet the animal inside that he’d been keeping from me this whole time. Just a few days into this odd and unusual tryst, and I was ready to get to know what made this man tick.

  “Up here,” he said, gesturing with his head to the bed sitting atop the raised platform.

  I climbed onto it, the soft mattress comfortably supporting my body, excited in the knowledge that today he wouldn’t just reveal himself, but that he might push me to somewhere I had never gone before. I felt confident around him now, comfortable, too. Thoughts of insecurity, of modesty, seemed to have been sifted out of my consciousness. It just… simply didn’t occur to me anymore. And it had only been days!

  I sat on the edge of the bed, hands in my lap, and watched Javier as he went to a black cabinet with silver handles. I couldn’t see what he was doing, but I heard him pull something out of it, and he turned around, unraveling it in his hands. I saw a braided rope – it looked soft as silk – and it attached a collar with a silver, metal hinge. In his other hand he held hooked contraption, blunted and round. I realized, to my astonishment, that it was a dildo with a curved handle.

  “Today you will obey me unquestioningly,” he said, his voice a deep baritone. He met my eyes with steely orbs of his own, and I swallowed, and nodded. I felt a flutter in my stomach: Nerves. It was… exciting.

  “Off the bed,” he told me, and he pointed at the lip of the raised platform that extended a meter out from the edge of the bed. “And on your hands and knees.”

  I blinked, parsing the instructions for a moment, before doing as he said. I got off the bed, lowered myself onto all fours. He beckoned me with a finger, then, and I crawled to him. Once at his feet, tantalizingly close to his crotch, he bent down and ran a warm finger up my spine, making me squirm.

  “Head up.”

  I put my head up.

  “Neck back.”

  I put my neck back.

  He fastened the collar onto me. I felt the cool metal of the hinge on my neck. “I won’t try to run away,” I told him. He fixed hard eyes on me, and I realized that I was not to speak. She could, however, see his arousal beginning to stir. The shape of his hardening manhood could be seen clearly through his thin slacks.

  Javier dropped to his knees, then. He looked at me, held up my chin so my eyes met him. “I know you won’t run away,” he whispered. “You can’t. But I like to see you like this, Maya.”

  When he spoke my name, it was like a caress on my soul. I crooned, wanted to please, and when he pulled lightly at the braided rope, I crawled closer toward him, my face just inches from where his thigh met his hip. He ran a hand down the side of my face, surprisingly tender, and when his thumb came to my lips he parted them. My breathing was quick. I was… lost in a daze.

  “Turn around,” he said. I did, my behind, my womanhood now exposed to him. His hands went immediately to my flesh, and he grabbed painful fistfuls, slapping my thighs apart so that he could get a better look at me. I winced, biting my lip, as he kneaded my ass, spread me, exposed all of me to him.

  I yelped in surprise when he slapped me, stinging me. I could feel my skin raise red. He had left a mark on me. Then his fingers were running over my outer lips, and I shivered and flexed my feet at the sensation. I heard him shift, shuffle closer, and casting a glance over my shoulder, saw that he had dropped down and brought his face right up into me. I could feel the warmth of his breath, feel the heat of his proximity radiating into my most private area.

  He parted me with his fingers, drew a tongue up my slit, and I mewled my joy that he was now finally consuming me. His tongue grew more aggressive with time, and teasing turned to blissful stimulation as he gorged on me like I was a ripe fruit, and he was a starving man. I pushed back into him, burying his face in me, the sounds of him eating me thick in the air around us, the smell of my arousal reaching even my nostrils.

  He brought me to the edge expertly, then tormented me with his tongue by backing me off, and I bucked and moaned and gritted my teeth and begged him for more. But he never took me there, and I felt that desperate ball of energy within me growing larger. I felt so full of longing, nearly bursting at the seams. I wanted to cry out, beg him to finish me, beg him to usher me into oblivion, but he didn’t. He kept holding me back.

  I writhed and wriggled under his deft ministrations, and one final time he brought me to the precipice, the edge of crisis, and then he stopped, standing up. I groaned my exasperation, craned my neck over my shoulder to look at him. He had coiled the braded rope in his hand, and was now walking to my side, and in front of me. He gave me a light tug, and I followed him on all fours, feeling my own slickness leaking out of me.

  He led me to the platform, up the lone step, and there he gestured for me to climb onto the bed. I did, and sat, heels beneath my thighs, knees bent, and hands in my lap. He let the leash drop, and began to remove his clothing while I watched, delighted, hungry.

  Javier undid the buttons to his shirt at an interminable pace, and my heart skipped a beat when he finally cast the expensive fabric off, his chiseled body like a Greek god’s, carved from granite. His fingers went to his belt buckle, and he slipped the leather out of its loops, before dropping it to the floor at his feet. He pulled his trousers down, stepped out of them, and was left standing in his boxer-briefs, form-fitting, clinging around the shape of his enormous, hard, and curled cock.

  My eyes were on his crotch, and never left while he pulled down his underwear. I watched with a mixture of fascination and longing as his manhood shot out, beading droplets of his arousal copiously. His thick veins spoke of an unmatched virility, and the smooth surface of his tip seemed to beckon my tongue.

  He stepped forward to me, bringing his manhood to within an inch of my face. And he watched me, and my eyes traveled slowly up his body to meet his eyes. I was waiting for his permission.

  Javier nodded at me, and I surged forward, taking his manhood into my mouth. I gripped him at his base, began to slowly tug him, and I worked him feverishly, swirling my tongue around him, touching him where I knew he would be sensitive.

  I worked angrily at him, as though it provided me with the release he had denied me over and over again. I bobbed up and down on him, opening my throat and taking him deeper than I had ever taken a man before. I stroked him rapidly, determined to bring him to the edge like he had done me. I didn’t now yet if I was going to back him off like he had also done me, or if I was going to bring him to bear.

  The mild saltiness of his arousal juices only whet my appetite further, and I realized that, deep down, I did want him to finish. I wanted to taste him, feel his pleasure, hear it burst out of his lips.

  I felt a cool touch on my back then, and he slapped my thigh with the curved toy, before hooking it around my leg and encouraging me onto my knees. On all fours again, I blew him as best as I knew how, and he dragged the dildo down my spine before I felt it slip down the curved cleft of my ass.

  I yelped when I felt the tip round my pucker, and I clenched instinctively, but he did not
abate. He rubbed it around my tight ring, and I struggled to focus on his manhood inside my mouth, wondering if he was going to put that thing in my ass.

  He took my leash now, and I couldn’t see what he was doing, so chanced a pause to lean back and look. His hand came roughly to the back of my head, and pushed me back down onto him, impaling me on him.

  “I’m attaching your leash to this hook,” he told me matter-of-factly, though I could hear the tension in his voice. I knew I was pleasuring him, and it made me glad inside.

  When he had apparently finished, I felt the curved dildo at my pucker again, only this time it was leashed to my collar. The moment of realization dawned on me. He took a step back, and I tried to follow him with my head, but pushing my neck forward, it pulled the dildo against my pucker.

  “Deeper,” he commanded me, hand on the back of my head. I had no choice. I blew him deep, feeling the bulb of the dildo press against my tight ring with each bob of my head. I sucked on him feverishly, all the while acutely aware of the toy threatening to penetrate a hole in my body I had never, ever been interested in stimulating before.

  I groaned as he took a step further back, forcing me to push my neck forward even more to swallow up his manhood. He stepped forward, moment of respite, and I felt wet fingers on my pucker. Then he was stepping back gain, and to my horror, as I leaned forward, my muscles loosened, and I swallowed up the dome of the dildo.

  I moaned onto him, my ring surprisingly sensitive. I wanted to gasp, let him out, but his hand weaved through my hair like dogs in the woods, and he pulled me back down onto him, leaning back, his muscles coming into sharp relief as he impaled me ever deeper.

  He thrust into me, pulling my head down, pushing the dildo further into my ass by way of the leash. I greedily accepted his manhood.

  Javier pulled out of me then, and climbed up onto the bed behind me. He looked at his own handiwork, of the dildo that was no doubt buried an inch into my pucker, and he told me, “Look down,” and I did, and I felt the dildo slide further in.

  I felt his manhood at my entrance, felt him slide inside me easily, and I moaned out in pleasure as he filled me up, stretched me more than any ever before. I bucked back angrily against him, punching my hips into his crotch so that I took him whole, right to the hilt.

  He gripped my hips, held me tight, and his fingers were fire on my skin as he began to take me. Each movement of my head, each moan or thrash, manipulated the toy in my ass, and I could feel it, feel him, separated by just the thinnest of membranes. It felt incredible.

  His fingers found my nubbin, and he rubbed me while he fucked me, telling me with a hoarse voice to keep my head down. I did, gripping the sheets beneath me, eyes clenched, lover and toy inside me. He slammed against me, again and again, his fingers magical on my pearl, and I was a spring coiled up too tightly, ready to explode.

  “Not yet,” he growled, slapping my ass hard. “Not until I say.”

  I swallowed, but nodded, struggling to fight the rising physical tide of bliss I felt within me. The wave was bearing down, and I knew that I could not last long, especially not as his fingers danced on me, as he continued to claim me as his from behind.

  He reached forward and forced my neck down more, and the dildo penetrated my pucker deeper, and I groaned, rapidly approaching the cliff, the point of no return.

  “Javier!” I hissed.

  “Obey me,” he said, and I nodded, biting my lip, forcing back my impending ecstasy. His thrusts grew wilder, harder, and I gave myself to him, let him plunder from me the pleasure he sought before I could get my own.

  I heard him groan, felt his body tighten up, felt his hand clasp a fistful of my ass. He breathed my name, another touch on my soul, and goose bumps shot up over me as I mewled and moaned, waiting for his permission.

  He brought his quivering manhood completely from my body, and I felt horrifyingly empty before he plunged back inside, put his hand on the back of my neck and squeezed it. “Now you may.” He did the same again, and I shrieked out as he worked my pearl with abandon, as he plunged deep inside my canal.

  “Ohhhh!” I cried as I crested, my world turning a blinding white. I heard him grunt, felt him harden, and I knew he had reached his crisis as I had reached mine. I flexed and tensed and tightened up as pleasure ripped through my every nerve ending, as I was finally granted that release he had denied me for days.

  It rocked me from the inside out, spread outward from my center to my toes, and for a moment, for an intense and surprisingly long moment, I was between worlds, my mind overwhelmed, consumed by white-hot bliss.

  And then it was over, waning, and I was coming down from my peak, and so was Javier. He leaned over me, his hot body on mine, his sweat mixing with mine, and held onto me, arms wrapped around my waist, lips in between my shoulder blades. He was still hard inside me, I could still feel him.

  “You are amazing,” he told me. I blushed. Somehow, I felt amazing. I heard him unfasten the leash from my collar, and then he slipped the dildo out of my ass, forcing me to wince. He slipped himself out, then, dragging out with him all manner of fluid, both his and mine. I felt its warmth on the insides of my thighs, before falling onto my side, exhausted, panting, but replete.

  He lay down with me, cradled my still-collared neck in his hand, and brushed away hair that was stuck to my forehead. He kissed me, then, and this time it was different. No longer was it filled with brutal, primal animalism. It was tender, caring, and I pressed myself into his arms, whispering, “Hold me.”

  He held me, and we lay together, attached from head to toe.

  “Stay with me,” he said after a moment. He kissed my forehead. The different form of intimacy took me by surprise. I thought about his question, thought about what that meant, what it entailed. Would I just be another mistress to this billionaire? Would I just be his flavor of the month, something specific he needed right this moment?

  Or was he asking for more?

  “Because I’m falling in love with you.”

  I swallowed. The words hit me like a hammer thumping on my chest.

  “Okay,” I whispered. I nodded, unable to stop a smile from pulling at the corners of my mouth. “I’ll stay.”

  *

  CHAPTER NINE

  I lounged on the upper-most, sun-drenched deck of one of Javier’s apparently many yachts. This one, named Annamarie, was his favorite. I asked him where the name came from, and he shrugged, and told me it was on the yacht when he bought it. He certainly wasn’t going to change the name. That would be bad luck.

  I had laughed. I’d never figured him for the superstitious type.

  He approached me, climbing up a sloped ladder with wide rungs, while I lay languid, like a decadent cat, reading a book I’d found in the sleeping cabin. His eyes, for a moment, went wide with horror, but then his well-practiced emotionless expression flashed back onto his face.

  “What is this?” I asked. I turned the book over in my hand. Its glossy-paper front cover was all orange, and on it in bold black lettering was the word, Invictus.

  “It’s Latin, for ‘unconquerable’,” he told me.

  “No,” I said, shaking my head. “I meant, where’d the book come from? There’s no author.”

  “You read much of it?” Javier settled down next to me, and pulled me possessively into his body, hand on the back of my neck.

  “Just the first few pages.”

  “It belonged to my great-grandfather,” he told me. “I don’t know where he got it.”

  “It looks pristine.”

  “He took care of it. So do I.”

  “Oh,” I murmured, looking up at the sky. “Will the sun ruin it?”

  Javier laughed. “Honestly, Maya, I have no idea.” He ran his fingers through his hair, and I couldn’t help my let my eyes traveled to his smooth armpit. I liked that he shaved it. “Just don’t get it wet.”

  “Where are we going, anyway?”

  “There is a small island,” he told me, point
ing out toward the horizon. I saw no land. “It belongs to me. On it, there is a sea-cave, and inside it, growing in the cracks of rock, is a phosphorescent algae. It is like a glowing spider web. It is amazing.”

  I grinned as his accent came through most forcefully on the word ‘phosphorescent’. “Sounds beautiful.”

  “It is. I haven’t been there in a long time.”

  I put the book down on my lap. I felt a spark of jealousy. “When was the last time you did go?”

  He sighed. “A long time ago. But I was alone. Do not worry.”

  “I wasn’t worried,” I lied, but I was certain he saw through that as well.

  “And you?” he asked, holding me tighter against him. “Is there anything you would like to do on your holiday?”

  “My holiday?’

  “You are going to be staying with me for a while, are you not?”

  I nodded.

  “Then it follows that since you will not be working, you will be on holiday.”

  I laughed. “I guess so, yes.”

  “So, is there anything you would like to do?”

  Considering the question, I let me eyes wander out to the watery horizon, taking note of how flat it was despite the slight chop I could feel on the yacht.

  “I…” My voice faltered. For the first time in over a week, I felt a little trepidations. Javier had showed me many of his other toys and contraptions, and I had found a great deal of pleasure and release in obeying him in the bedroom.

  “Yes?”

  “I wonder if there is more you can show me.”

  “More?”

  “You know,” I said, sheepishly looking away, unable to hide the smirk on my face. “More about what you like.”