Elle's Seduction

by Abby-Rae Rose

  Elle shook her head, fighting the building need in her. “No. If I’m saying it, it’s not going to be for some piece of glass.”

  The dildo stopped mid-thrust, sliding out of her.

  The Master’s hands stopped. “What do you want?”

  Elle turned her head. She wanted to see him, wanted to face him. Much to her dismay, he continued to hide in the shadows. Would she ever know his face? “I want your cock. If I’m doing this, I’m doing it for real. Your cock or Darren’s.”

  Darren stood a look of shock on his face. “A submissive doesn’t negotiate.”

  Elle pulled herself to her full 5 foot 3 inch height, her shoulders pulled back. “If you want me to call you master, you take me with a real cock or forget it.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  The Master ran his fingers through her hair, jerking her head back. “You break the rules, sub.”

  Elle closed her eyes. Behind her she heard the sound of a zipper sliding down.

  “Darren, drop her down.”

  Chains rattled as the cuffs lowered just enough for her to bend forward and still grip something.

  Darren returned with a condom. Whispers went back and forth behind her.

  They left her to tremble, the chains rumbling, her ass waving in the air.

  Darren stepped in front of her and raised her up. “Stand.”

  With a quick flick of both hands, he released her breasts from the clamps, even as the Master grabbed her hips. Sensation burned through her nipples, shocking a cry of pain from her just as the Master pulled her ass against him and slid against her. “Is this what you want?”

  “Yes. God, yes.”

  His hands were in her hair once again jerking her back. “Feel this, imagine it inside you. Every night, dream of this.”

  Back and forth he slid, the large head of his penis just pushing against her opening, hitting the sensitive entry, making her thrust back onto him. He never penetrated though. “When you know you’re place, you’ll get it. Until then, you get nothing.”

  With a final thrust, he released her into Darren’s arms and walked away.

  Elle stood there, arms around Darren’s neck, panting with need, breasts aching and completely unfulfilled...and angry as hell.

  Tears pricked her eyes as she fought to stand on her own, even as Darren set her to rights. She’d gambled and lost this round; her need for control pushing her to fight for more than the Master was willing to give.

  Darren ignored her and motioned for her clothes, a coldness entering his gaze.

  Elle stood alone and bereft as he unchained her and gave her clothes.

  He never said a word, never offered her relief.

  In the end, she sat alone in the limo, aching and needy with no one to blame but herself for being home at eleven o’clock on a weekend when she could have had the night of her life.

  ***

  Monday couldn’t come soon enough. Another day stuck in her drab apartment reliving those moments at The Den. She’d never regretted moving to the city with the excitement and bright lights, and most of all, the theater. But she’d fervently wished for the busy life on a farm.

  As it was, she’d scrubbed every surface of her apartment with Lysol, bleaching the bathroom and kitchen floors with a brush. Unable to help herself, she’d even evicted Garfield for a short while to clean and scrub his apartment. Next weekend, she planned to rent a carpet cleaner and drag it up the six flights to finish the job.

  Her desk was worlds away from The Den, which suited her just fine. Walking in she was relieved to see Darren was nowhere in sight.

  At her desk, Luke bumped into her. “Thank God, you’re here.”

  “What’s up?”

  A prisoner facing execution would look happier. “Elle, Fred’s in trouble.”

  In the conference room where Darren had setup shop, folders and files were piled neatly in stacks everywhere. In the middle of it, Darren and Maxwell faced off with Fred. Darren glanced her way, his eyes iced over. The heat she remembered from Friday long gone. But Maxwell was in charge, his deep voice sending shivers down her spine, conjuring hot hands and forbidden pleasures.

  Shocked, she began to put two and two together. The deep voice from the corridor, tempting her and shocking her, was the same one she heard now dressing Fred down. “Where’d you put the order?”

  Elle imagined he was holding back his fury by the skin of his teeth. “Maxwell—”

  Maxwell held up his hand. “I don’t want to hear a word out of you. Fred can answer.”

  Fred straightened and tried to stare down Maxwell. While Fred might intimidate a mouse, there was no comparing himself to the taller, more muscular figure of Maxwell. Beyond that, there was an indefinable air of authority that surrounded Maxwell, making most men and women stand back. Fred never had a chance.

  Maxwell wouldn’t let up. “Please tell me that you didn’t cancel that order of plastic?”

  Fred never answered. He simply stared straight ahead and kept his mouth closed.

  Luke nudged her forward but Elle simply couldn’t intervene, too shocked by her revelation to interfere. God, she’d made a fool of herself.

  With barely a second glance, she turned and fled the room. Better to let Maxwell and Darren get it out with Fred, because she might die of embarrassment if she had to face Maxwell knowing that he was the man from the dark. Knowing that he was the Master.

  ***

  The week dragged by. No invitations arrived in black envelopes. Darren wouldn’t talk to her. Whenever she saw him in the hall or in a meeting, he was all business—the warmth and passion she’d sensed before gone. Sally was as vengeful as ever and took a great deal of pleasure in the coldness that had surfaced between her and Darren.

  In all, Elle was miserable. The rejection of those two men in that dark room had shaken up her world. She’d never felt particularly beautiful—but those two men had worshipped her. They’d done everything to fulfill her every need and she’d fought off capitulation because of fear... Or was it something else?

  Ego?

  Did she require so much control that she couldn’t have given up that one small thing for the man who would do anything to pleasure her? Even now, the idea of calling Maxwell, Master, sent a thrill down her spine. Even the small twitches of discomfort on her backside as she moved through her days reminded her of what they’d done to her and just how much she wanted that back.

  But, she wondered, would she really do it any different? The idea of claiming Maxwell as her own, as her Master, making him loose control, appealed to some strange place inside of her. She would have to play his game though to get what she wanted.

  She would be gone in just a few months. Maybe it was for the best that it ended now, no matter how badly Maxwell called to her.

  ***

  Fred was a menace. With only three, short weeks to go, he’d managed to cancel out the last weeks’ worth of work with just a few keystrokes. The plastic order, cancelled. The balsam wood—at three times the price, already paid.

  And that didn’t even begin to touch on the growing emotional turmoil Maxwell was dealing watching the scumbag around Elle. Darren might drive him nuts but this man was sending him off the bridge. Mental—as Darren would call it. That’s where he was headed. Fred’s slavering and eyeballing of Elle was an excuse to get rid of his frustrations.

  The truth was he wanted Elle more than he wanted any other woman he’d ever known. Her defiance at The Den should have killed it for him. Instead, he was obsessed. The weekend without her had left him irritable and even more determined to have her.

  He knew he walked a fine line. Being a Dom required complete control of one’s emotions. He should never have stepped so close to the edge—sliding between her folds, knowing how close to Nirvana he’d been. He could have too easily stepped over the line and walked right into the fiery hell of temptation. His body wanted that abyss of pleasure but he knew once he gave a quarter, Elle would take the reins and the struggle f
or dominance would begin. He would have to win and there could be no doubt in her mind.

  Thank god for Darren.

  “Snap out of it, old man,” Darren said, shoving the conference room door open to put another box on the table.

  Bastard.

  Darren ignored Maxwell’s silence and began sorting through files. “It’s no use, Maxwell. Stop going over it in your mind. It was a no go. It doesn’t matter what your dick wants. You know that.”

  Maxwell cringed at Darren’s crassness. “Maybe for Elle. Maybe...No, you’re right.”

  “Maybe...what? Maybe you’re falling in love, mate. You’re screwed. Might as well fess up to it, she’s got you by the balls and you’d do anything for her.”

  It didn’t sound as good when Darren put it that way.

  “Love? Surely not.”

  Darren snickered. “You’ve got it bad, Maxwell. You either have to deal with it or move on. If I weren’t so jealous I’d be happy for you.”

  Maxwell jerked to attention. Darren? Jealous?

  Watching his old friend, he saw the pain etched on his face even as the man tried to concentrate on the folders. Darren had suffered at the hands of his mother. Sexual abuse was never easy to get over. The physical scars marked him, but the mental ones made Darren who he was. As much as Maxwell loved Darren and would do anything for his friend, he couldn’t take that pain away. Darren would never have a regular relationship with a girl like Elle. He craved the capricious; the hardness of a used woman, the control dominance gave him over even the meekest of women.

  But Maxwell wasn’t Darren.

  His need for dominance came from a lifetime of oppressive religion and strict codes. Things that were forced on him by Catholicism and a high-achieving family. Things that ultimately made him the success he was.

  His childhood tales of woe were idealist compared to the atrocities Darren’s mother had meted out daily. Maxwell suspected Darren had suffered worse than even he could imagine. Even now, Darren had no hope of a normal life.

  “Darren—”

  Darren held up his hand, his cold, calculating eyes shimmering. “Maxwell, I can’t have someone like Elle. That’s not for me. But you can.”

  “She’s not your normal submissive. You saw her.”

  Darren threw down his papers and closed the distance between them, his voice lowered. “Are you completely dense? Look at her. Next time she comes in the room, just look at her. She’s besotted. She’d do anything for you. All you have to do is grab the reins and you can have it all.”

  “I don’t want to hurt her.”

  Darren shook his head. “Life isn’t all clean and perfect, old man. It’s brutal, sick, and twisted. She’s not crystal. Give her a chance. Hell, she’s probably stronger than both of us combined. She can take it.”

  Maxwell shoved away from the desk. “She’s not ready.”

  “No, mate, you’re the one who’s not ready. And you’re going to let one of the sweetest women I’ve ever met, pass you by because you’re afraid.”

  Maxwell refused to answer. Darren wasn’t listening to reason. “I’m not discussing this anymore. I’m checking on that damn balsam wood order and figuring out a way to get Fred fired. You just finish this stuff up in here. You’ve got until next Friday to finish this audit up, and then we’re out. Zackary can clean up his own mess.”

  Darren shook his head and sighed. “Maxwell—”

  “No. End of discussion.”

  With an English school salute, Darren stood at attention. “Yes, Sir.” The hard edge to Darren’s jaw told him this was far from over. But today he had work to do.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The darkened dance floor echoed with the soft sounds of voices as Darren made his way up to the salon. Maxwell was in fine form tonight, and Darren wasn’t sure there was anything he could do to talk the man out of this madness.

  In the salon, Darren straightened out the curtains around the windows and pulled fresh sheets out for the round floating bed. Extravagance surrounded him, from the leather sofas, to the tiled floor, to the plush rugs thrown in strategic places everywhere.

  “You know you’re only making it worse,” a voice said from a chair Darren hadn’t seen when he came in.

  Luke. He couldn’t get the man out of his mind. Every night for the last week, he’d come to The Den and seen the blonde man taunting him, those light blue eyes piercing his soul and offering him everything he’d ever wanted. Forcefully, he snapped the sheets and began tucking them into the bed. “You don’t understand.”

  “What is there to understand? You are just taking orders. Right?”

  Luke stretched his elegant body and stood from his place on the leather chair. His usual tux settled over his physique, outlining the firm planes of his thighs and hinting at broad, well-muscled shoulders. His face was bare, no mask hiding the passion or the stark need. With the first step, Luke unbuttoned his jacket and slid it off to place it neatly on the chair. Every step closer, a button came off his neatly pressed dress shirt until he stood bare-chested in front of Darren.

  “Impertinent...” Darren couldn’t breathe. The musky scent of Polo surrounded him, making him remember the times he’d seen the man, naked and writhing in this very room. The beauty and sexuality of the man had always caught his eye, but now wasn’t the time to think about himself. He had to pull himself together. “You overstep yourself, slave.”

  “Oh ho, calling me slave now.” Luke stepped closer and slid his fingers over the belt buckle and around the waist of Darren’s black slacks. “Do you want me to call you master, Darren?”

  Darren gulped as fingers quickly rid him of his belt and slid his zipper down. His cock sprang to life as hands swept him up into a grip strong enough to send him panting over the edge. Before Darren could stop him, Luke knelt, and took his cock into his hot mouth. The rough texture of tongue and heat surrounded him, making him groan. Images of Luke being taken by other men raced through his mind. He would be tight, the muscles of his ass knowing just the way to work him as he pumped himself into him. Zackary would have trained him well.

  The suction and pressure changed, dragging a groan from him as Luke cupped his balls. Even now, he felt himself tightening, those balls pulling up, but Luke kept the pressure on, extending the pleasure and ramping it up before releasing him.

  Darren’s sigh of relief was short lived. Luke let go of his cock with a sharp pop. Before he could regain his senses and pull himself together, he heard a cap come off and liquid squirt.

  His eyes open to find Luke lubing up a clear rubber cock.

  A wicked smile crossed Luke’s face as he grabbed Darren’s cock and swept his tongue back over it. Unable to look away, Darren watched Luke work the rubber cock. The rubber slid under Darren’s scrotum and between his thighs, a slight pressure under his balls and along his scrotum ratcheting up the pleasure. Before it had even touched his anus, Darren’s body turned traitor and relaxed, begging Luke for the bulbous head of the rubber dildo.

  Unerringly, Luke slid it home, past the tight ring of his anus filling him so quickly Darren couldn’t catch his breath.

  “God, Luke.”

  There was no hesitation as Luke pulled back and thrust the thing in again and again, aiming straight for his prostrate, touching off sparks of pleasure that made his legs shake and his breathing come out in rapid-fire rasps. The sounds of Luke’s sucking and guttural moans echoed in the empty room against the deeper tone of Darren’s own rasps and groans of pleasure as Luke worked the dildo and his mouth in time.

  Darren couldn’t keep his eyes open, not even to watch Luke suck him deeper into his mouth, the pleasure ramping up through him was too intense, his hips flexing in time to the hard rhythm Luke had set. Each thrust sent him shivering closer to the edge. Unable to balance, he grasped Luke’s head, gave himself up, and took control, positioning himself closer to the edge, his balls tightening.

  In a millisecond of sensation, the bulb of the rubber cock hit him square
on the prostate sending him hurtling into orgasm, his hips thrusting his ejaculations deep into Luke’s throat.

  Panting and shaking, Darren jerked himself away from Luke’s touch and allowed the rubber cock to slide out of him. Two steps had him slumping into a leather couch, exhausted and spent, unable to catch his breath. Luke took the moment to clean up and put away the toys, his own needs unfulfilled.

  Darren couldn’t let him think this was the start of anything. “We’re leaving at the end of next week.”

  The efficient movements never stopped as Luke finished his clean up. “What are you going to do about Elle?”

  Darren ignored the slight pain that sliced through him at Luke’s nonchalance. Luke didn’t even act phased by the idea of him leaving, even after what he’d just given Darren. The gentleness Darren had imagined briefly that the man might care about him.

  No, whatever Luke’s reasons for being here tonight, they had nothing to do with affection. Luke probably just wanted what they all wanted, a good fuck by the best. But this was about Maxwell and his happiness. Despite what had happened, Darren knew there was more there, something that Maxwell needed to give a chance. By the look in Luke’s eye, he wasn’t the only one that wanted to play matchmaker.

  “Maxwell’s a no-go on my end.”

  Luke buttoned his shirt and straightened himself up. “I have a plan.”

  Despite Darren’s own trepidation, he was intrigued. If he couldn’t be happy, at least his best friend would be.

  ***

  Elle was lovely in the soft lights of the limo—her pale blonde locks striking against the black corset and leather skirt. The only hint of color Darren had allowed her was the aquamarine-blue ribbons that laced through the corset. Against the sea of darkness, it accentuated her eyes and brought those lovely, pert breasts to forefront as well as the slender lines of her ribs and waist.