by Grant, KT
“It's a good thing I’m not your master, or I would cane the shit out of you.” He opened the door. The music was deafening and the cries of the crowd outside reached a fevered pitch.
“You would use the cane instead of a whip on me? Is that what you’re planning to do with the innocent Miss Walsh, who’ll faint when she sees what a typical Friday night at The Gate is like?”
He shook his head, not amused in the least by her bitchiness. “Tonight, she’s a bystander. When you meet her, you’ll treat her with the upmost respect. Do not mention anything about my interest in her father’s company. If you do, I’ll call Raymond to invite him to take you away. Understand?”
She called him a nasty name and crossed her arms, but nodded in the affirmative.
“Take a few more minutes to get over whatever snit you’re in. If you feel the…boy is a nuisance, have him thrown out. I don’t want any problems or drama tonight.”
“There’s always drama here. Same old shit, just a different day.” Balancing on her elbows, she raised an eyebrow at him.
Shutting the door, he went to meet Erika, hoping she wasn’t hyperventilating. It was leather night, and most of the guests would be covered in leather or little to nothing at all.
***
She had never seen assless chaps on a man before, but there was a first time for everything.
Two men wearing chaps with some type of glow-in-the-dark paint on their nipples walked past her, stroking each other’s butts and kissing one another ravenously. When more people in different states of dress—or lack of—bumped into her, she moved off to the side near the wall. The dance floor was packed, the music too loud. The air was thick, muggy with stale body odor and sweat.
She was so not dressed for the occasion in her jeans and a purple Henley T-shirt At least she’d worn her black cable knit Ugg boots. Her throat tightened as she was boxed in. Taking out her inhaler, she tried bringing it to her mouth, but her hand shook too much.
“Miss Walsh, are you okay? You look like you’re going to faint.” The bald black man in a dark suit who’d phoned Max appeared at her side. He helped her toward the front where people in line waited to get in.
“I-I’ll be okay. Just need some fresh air,” she said, wheezing.
“Let me call Mr. Leon again.”
“Leon?” She took a hit from her inhaler. “Who’s that?”
“I’m Leon.” Max marched over to her, tilted her chin up, and examined her face. Cursing under his breath, he scooped her into his arms.
“What are you doing? Put me down!” She squirmed in his hold.
“My house, my rules. You’ll do what I want.” He nodded at the bouncer and strode through a set of doors near the coat check and down a hall.
“Where are you taking me?” She could breathe easier since the air wasn’t so dense, and his arms gave her a sense of security.
“To my office. I don’t want you to end up in the hospital,” he replied in a stiff tone, his face harsh, uninviting. It could have been a trick of the weak lighting, but his mouth was set in a straight line, and he held her too tightly.
She didn’t argue or complain. He didn’t seem to mind carrying her. Reaching another set of swinging double doors, he opened them, advancing into another hall. Flashing lights bounced off the walls. They passed a bar as they headed to a door in the far corner. He set her on her feet, and keeping his arm around her waist, he unlocked the door, ushering her inside.
The room had a desk, metal cabinets, some chairs, and a couch. He led her over to the couch, and she sat down. When he knelt on one knee, cupping her cheek, he surprised her.
“Are you better? Do you need water or juice?”
She patted his hand at his thoughtfulness. “I’m fine now. It was just a little overwhelming back there. I should have waited near the front where it wasn’t so crowded, but I was curious.”
“If you’re not ready, I understand. I can call you another car—”
She ran the pads of her fingers over his lips. “I want to stay. Now that you’re here, I’ll be okay.” She tapped the seat next to her. “Sit with me?”
“Yes.” He sat beside her, curving his arm around her shoulder. His mouth dropped over hers, giving her a heart-stopping kiss.
She moaned, growing damp as his tongue traced her lips. His hand swept over the front of her shirt then dropped to her lap where he cupped her. Resting her head on his shoulder, she tightened her legs around his hand. His fingers prodded.
“What a nice hello.” Breathless, she shuddered when his thumb dug in deep, right over her clit.
“I’m very happy to see you.” He licked the side of her throat, sucking softly.
She twisted in his embrace, wanting to get naked and have him take her until she screamed his name for everyone to hear. But first, she needed answers.
“Um, why did the bouncer call you Leon?” She bit down on her lip as he unzipped her jeans and inserted his hand in her panties. She opened her thighs wider, sighing when he cupped her without the covering of denim or fabric.
“Leon is my middle name. I wanted to be known as Leon here, not Max.”
Nipping her neck, he pulled her leg up higher around his hip and drove two fingers inside her. She seized the back of his head as he bore her down on the couch. With his teeth, he yanked up her shirt then sucked on her breasts through her bra.
“I’ve always had a fantasy of fucking a woman in my office. I’d bend her over my desk, fuck her from behind. Maybe in her ass.” He blew on her nipple, and she whimpered. “Would you let me, Erika? I’d rim your ass out. Lick you until you were dripping wet from cunt to ass.”
Rimming? She had no idea what that was, but the way he described it, she was willing to try anything—even anal sex, a major taboo she never thought about doing before. She didn’t care if her ass was too big or not tight like most of the women he’d been with.
“Have you ever done that with any of your women before?”
“Anal or fucked them here?” He tugged down her bra cup and licked the tip of her breast.
Crying out, she climaxed. “Oh, God,” she moaned, her inner muscles milking his fingers.
He held her, worshiping her breasts with his mouth and tongue while she came down from her orgasm.
When she finished her release, she closed her eyes, covering her face with her arm. He tugged on her wrist, and she peeked over it. He smiled, keeping his other hand between her legs, his fingers still inside her.
“You’re beautiful when you come.” He gave her a kiss, and she combed her fingers through his hair.
“I owe you one. If you want, we can continue at your desk where you can…rim me. Is that what it’s called?”
He barked out a laugh and sat up. Removing his fingers from her, he licked them clean. She turned away, blushing.
“I forget how innocent you are when it comes to sex.”
She couldn’t argue with him there, but it still irked her. She might not be sexually experienced like him, but she wasn’t oblivious or a prude to certain acts, in particular, the ones he was willing to introduce to her.
“What’s it with the men in my life tonight, acting like they know everything when it concerns me?” She sat up, wrinkling her nose over the drying stickiness between her thighs. She opened her purse to search for a tissue.
Frowning, he lifted his thumb to his mouth but stopped, taking her hand instead. The next thing she knew, she sat on his lap with her jeans riding low on her hips, her bra undone, and her nipples aching for more licks and kisses.
“Did you have a fight with your father? Is that why you didn’t sound like you’re normal self on the phone?” He swept aside the hair sticking to her cheek.
It was perfect for her to announce what Chris had told her about Page, but the tender way he treated her kept her from saying anything. She didn’t want to ruin their time together, even though they were in an environment where pain and pleasure came together for the ultimate sexual nirvana.
“Erika? I lost you. Come back to me.”
She blinked, giving Max her full attention. Smiling as brightly as she could, she pressed her mouth to his. She wanted to spend the next few hours learning a different side of him, accepting him, both good and bad. Later, she would ask about his past relationships, the most important—Page. “I rather not talk about my dad here. It’s no big deal. He’s just working more because of his retirement. Let’s concentrate on ourselves tonight. I’d love for you to show me shocking acts of depravity that will make me so hot I’ll be more than willing for you to bend me over your desk and have your wicked way with me.”
Laughing again, he wrapped her in his arms.
***
“Can you show me the bathroom? I should freshen up,” she stated.
He helped her up from the couch, his arms around her hips in a loose embrace. He gave her a naughty grin. “I don’t want you out of my sight for even a second, including the bathroom.” He traced her bottom lip with his finger. “Don’t erase what we shared together just now. I like knowing you’re sticky between your legs from the way I made you come.”
“Ahh…okay, if it makes you happy.” Hesitating, she glanced away from Max’s proud face.
“Having you obey me will make me very happy. I promise you’ll be rewarded later on.” He sifted his fingers through her hair, his eyelids drooping. He rubbed against her, giving her an idea of what her reward would entail.
Sliding her hand down, she cupped him, enjoying his intake of breath. “I can take care of you before you show me around.”
He jerked in her hand once, twice then he kissed her. “Later, when we’re not so rushed. The anticipation will be well worth it.”
Bummed she would have to wait to taste him again, she righted her clothes and pulled a comb through her hair. He gave her a bottle of water from his small fridge then produced a white velvet ribbon pulled out of a box of multi-colored ones from under his desk.
“Do I wear it around my neck?” She remembered what she’d read online while researching the S&M lifestyle. “Oh! Is it a collar?”
He tied the ribbon on her left upper arm. “You’re not ready for a collar. It’s more for your safety and to warn people you’re observing, not participating. Many don’t wear ribbons here, but we have them in case a guest is interested in a certain type of play but wants to be coy about it.”
“If you wore a ribbon, what color would it be?” She ran her palms down his maroon colored shirt. “Or is the shirt you’re wearing a signal?”
“No signal. But it’s a good thing I didn’t wear yellow tonight.” His lips twitched.
When she asked him what the significance of yellow was, he smiled, kissing her until she no longer cared about colored ribbons or shirts.
“Stay next to me in the public rooms, but if we get separated, don’t be frightened. You can always seek out one of the staff or a security guard. We have multiple guards on each level.” He locked his office.
“How many floors are there?” She glanced overhead.
“Five. The first level is the bar-lounge and dance floor, the second level has rooms for light play, the third for more intense sessions, and the fourth is for special group activities and those who have appointments. Also, the rooms there are rented out each month by those skilled in specific types of sex play. The fifth level holds Catherine and my suites. No one is allowed up there unless we invite them.”
With her hand held tight in his, he led her down the hall into an open space. The music wasn’t as loud as in the main area, but the room was crowded with people drinking. Most stood in groups, talking or watching the couples behind glass panels over the bar engaging in risqué dancing or some type of bondage. The tameness of everything disappointed her. Other than people dressed in tight leather or showing off too much skin with multiple piercings and dog collars, there was nothing shocking going on.
“Still okay?” he asked in her ear.
She squeezed his hand. “Yes. I thought there would be, I don’t know, orgies or people tied to walls and open for anyone to do whatever they wanted to them.”
“That’s what the fourth floor is for.”
He bit down on her earlobe, and she swallowed a gasp. She went to tell him to cut it out but noticed a pretty woman with black and red streaked hair watching them.
“We have an audience. A woman near the bar is looking right at us.”
He lifted his head. “That’s Catherine. I guess it’s time you two meet. Don’t worry, she won’t bite.”
He drew her toward the bar, but the woman met them half way. She nodded at Max.
“Hello, you must be Erika.” She held out her hand. “I’m Catherine, part owner of this establishment. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
She was well spoken and courteous, which was at odds with her clothes and brash makeup. But who was she to judge? It must be part of her costume.
“Nice to meet you too, Catherine.” She shook her hand.
“Is Max giving you a tour? He only does that for close friends.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, exposing an array of piercings. “Too bad you didn’t come during paddle night. Women get a free paddle at the door they can use in whatever way they deem fit.”
“I’ll have to keep that in mind the next time I come.” She smiled at Max.
“You’ll have to make do with leather night instead. I bet Max can round up a pair of leather pants or a skirt if you’d like to participate.”
“Erika isn’t partaking tonight. She’s observing,” He curved his arm around her waist.
“Aw, how cute. You’ve marked her as a newbie,” she teased and reached out to pat his head.
Blocking her, he grabbed her hand, kissing her knuckles. Catherine swatted him again, and he chuckled.
She watched the affectionate display between the two. It was obvious they were fond of one another.
Catherine unclipped her cell phone, scanning the touch screen. Her mouth molded into a pout. “Duty calls. I have an appointment I can’t miss. If you two will excuse me. It was nice meeting you. I hope we can talk again soon.” With a pat on Erika’s arm, she left the room.
“She’s nice,” she said.
He nodded. “She’s the sister I never had. We like to tease one another, but it’s all in good fun.”
“Have you two ever…?” She waved her arm around.
“We’ve never had sex, but there have been a few times we engaged in some role playing and bondage, but only if a guest asks for both of us to join in.”
She walked alongside him as they went to a vacant table with a reserved sign in the middle. He pulled out a chair for her to sit, and when she was settled, he did the same. His arm hung over her chair, his other hand landing on her knee.
“You call the people here guests?” She scanned the room.
“Yes, that’s what Curtis and Irene used to call the customers here. It stuck.”
A female server in a tight white leather dress approached them in such high heels Erika winced. Did all the women here wear painful looking footwear?
“I’ll have a club soda, and my friend would like….” Max tilted his head toward her.
“I’ll have what he’s having.”
After their server left, he twisted in his seat to face her. “You can have wine or another alcoholic drink if you want. We allow patrons one alcoholic beverage an hour.”
“Keeps your guests from getting too rowdy or frisky?”
“Exactly.” He slid his hand up her leg. “Emotions are running high as it is. When a session’s going on, no participant is allowed to have alcohol of any kind. They can have water, soda, or juice.”
“Why is it called a session?”
Their server brought their drinks, and Max paid for them. The woman winked, dropping the bill in her cleavage. Erika didn’t react to the display, and when he tugged her to him, she kissed him on the cheek.
“Good girl.” He drank.
She did the same while she s
tudied the action. More people arrived, the room seeming to swell with even more bodies. But she never became overwhelmed. She was quite comfortable and secure in his arms.
“I call it a session because it runs for a specific amount of time. It’s an exercise in endurance. More often than not the people involved are viewed by an audience.”
“You’re serious? Where do people watch? Are they in the same room? Do they join in also?”
“They can, but there are rooms where someone can observe behind glass. The people on the other side can’t see who’s watching. It’s like a peep show.” He ran his finger down her arm. “It’s incredibly arousing. Most just pick a room with no clue as what to expect.”
She chewed on an ice cube while she wiped the condensation off her glass. Now that was something she wouldn’t mind seeing. But how should she bring it up?
He nudged her under her chin. His eyes sparkling with amusement, he dipped his finger down the middle of her throat then circled her breastbone.
“Ask me,” he said softly.
“I want to watch.” She curled her fingers around his hand.
After downing his drink, he stood. He took her hand, guiding her off the floor and up the stairs.
Chapter Fourteen
Catherine rested her head on the wall. She fisted her hands at her sides and wished the man behind her away. It didn’t work. His fingers encircled her waist, his warm breath fanning the back of her neck.
“Cathy, I need you.”
Twisting around, she thrust Bryan away. Cameron had called her Cathy. His Cathy. To everyone, else she had always been Catherine. No whiny, emotionally disturbed, handsome as hell, barely legal boy was going to call her what had once belonged to Cameron.
“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me Cathy? And no, I don’t have to give you another shot. Leave me alone.”
She walked away with the intent of going upstairs to her suite to clean up. She was sticky with sweat from the intense hour of whipping and teasing she’d given one of the male guests. It took him forever to come, and when he did, he jizzed on her five hundred dollar boots. She hoped she wouldn’t have to take them to—
