Before she could second guess herself, Alan wrapped his fingers around her wrist and pulled her deeper into the lounge. The door swung shut behind him.
Fortunately, even in the low light, Paige had no trouble making out Selena’s bright red dress. She sauntered across the room, moving toward a man standing in the far corner, swaying her hips with a natural sensuality that Paige could never hope to emulate.
“Selena,” the man said, as they approached. This had to be Robert. His voice was low and as smooth as satin sheets.
Paige pulled up short as Selena threw herself at him. If Robert minded her enthusiasm, he didn’t show it. He captured Selena in his arms and branded her with a kiss. Paige’s toes curled up inside her shoes at the sight.
His hands moved up under her dress, exposing Selena’s ass and grasping it. Hard.
Paige knew she should look away. This was her best friend after all, and it looked for all the world like she was just about to get it on with a virtual stranger. But she couldn’t. The sight of such unabashed sexual desire held her fast.
Until she felt Alan’s grip on her arm tighten.
Crap. He’d noticed. Of course, he had. She was practically panting.
Paige forced her gaze up to the ceiling, and discreetly cleared her throat. When that didn’t work, she tried again, louder.
The couple reluctantly pulled apart. Robert looked over Selena’s shoulder and gave Page a sly smile. “You must be Selena’s mysterious friend,” he said.
“Hardly mysterious. I’m just Paige.”
“I’m glad you could come.” Robert’s brows rose as he noticed that she wasn’t alone. “It appears that you’ve already met Alan.”
“He was nice enough to invite her inside when the doorman refused to come find you,” Selena said.
“Nice?” Robert asked, humor lighting up his dark eyes. “That’s not a word that’s often used to describe Alan.”
Paige stiffened. “Actually, he’s been nothing but kind since the moment we met.”
“Is that so?”
Paige nodded, albeit weakly. She was sure the man wasn’t a saint—just look where he worked, for heaven’s sake. But he had saved her from breaking her ass on the pavement, and then from the humiliation of being turned away at the door. That had to be worth something.
“Don’t you have somewhere to be, Robert?” Alan asked. He didn’t sound half as amused as his friend.
“Yes, I suppose I do.” Robert’s smile was distinctly predatory as he looked Selena up and down. “I hope you enjoy your evening with us, Paige. Though I have no doubt that Alan will see to that.”
Paige blinked as Robert led Selena out of the lounge. His suggestive words made her pussy come alive.
As soon as the couple was gone, Alan sat, pulling her down next to him. It was strange, being treated so forcefully. Stranger still that it felt almost right.
Still, she settled herself a few inches away from him. Sure, the sight of him had spawned more wicked thoughts in the last ten minutes than she’d had in the last decade, but that didn’t mean that she was going to act on them. That wouldn’t be like Prudent Paige at all.
Alan raised his brows. The move had not gone unnoticed obviously.
“You know I’m no white knight,” he said.
“Yeah, I’m starting to get that.”
“So why defend me?”
“Because white knights are overrated. Trust me, I know. They’ll tell you what they think you want to hear, even if it’s a lie. At least you’re honest.”
“Ah,” he said, as if now he understood everything about her. “So that’s why you’re here. A breakup.”
No. She was here because her best friend was a stubborn do-gooder. But he didn’t need to know that. “Something like that.”
“How long were you together?”
“Five years.”
“That’s a long time.”
“Not really. I know people who have broken up after much longer.”
“I meant it’s a long time to pretend to be happy.”
There was honesty, and then there was being a presumptuous ass. So, why was she still sitting here with him? And why was she leaning closer to argue the point?
“I never said I wasn’t happy. I was fine.”
“No, you weren’t.”
“And how could you possibly know that?”
He leaned back against the wall, propping both arms up on the ledge behind him.
“You didn’t want to come here tonight. But here you are in another woman’s clothes.”
Paige shrugged, feeling defensive. “So?”
“Someone doesn’t pretend to be someone else unless they’re unhappy with who they are.” There was understanding in his voice, but no sympathy. Just a statement of fact.
What was worse, he was right. She was unhappy. Desperately so. And she had been for a very long time. She’d made so many changes to make everyone else happy that she hadn’t realized that she was slowly making herself miserable.
Paige’s mouth hung open. No words came out. No witty retorts. No self-deprecating jokes, just a long silence after being slapped in the face by the truth. This crushing melancholy hadn’t been caused by Zach leaving her. She’d been this way for a while now.
She kicked off Selena’s awful shoes and pressed her heels against the hardwood floor. The simple move made her feel instantly better, more like herself, instead of a pale imitation of someone else.
Paige drew in a deep breath. The combined scents of candle wax and leather were strangely calming. She leaned back so that her neck rested in the curve of Alan’s open palm. His skin was warm against hers. She felt a measure of fight go out of her.
“What does one do about that?” she asked.
“Sensation can be a powerful remedy.” His voice was low, his look hungry.
“Sensation?” Her voice trembled a little. She felt a strange urge to lean closer, but resisted. “Pleasure, you mean.”
She must have imagined the little flash that lit up his eyes, making it seem like they glowed with their own light. “And pain,” he said. “In just the right balance.”
Paige turned away. How could he know? She’d brought up the idea of a little kinky play to Zach—once. It had been early on in their relationship. He’d looked at her like she was a freak for asking that he hold her wrists down during sex. She’d never asked for anything again.
She looked around the room, trying to compose herself. Her eyes had adjusted to the dim light, and she could finally see into the dark corners of the lounge. What had been hidden when she first walked in was now fully revealed.
Halfway down the bench a light-haired woman straddled a man. Her top was pulled down, and his hands teased the nipples of full breasts as she ground against him.
The opposite corner was no better. Nowhere was.
Paige snapped her gaze to floor in front of her. “Can we go somewhere else?”
“Why?”
“People are….”
“Fucking.” He finished the thought for her. He didn’t seem the least bit shocked.
Of course he wasn’t. This was Mercy Club. People came here to indulge their deepest fantasies.
She had fantasies of her own. They might be a little dusty from disuse, but they were still there.
Paige risked glancing up. A blond man, wider and more solid than any man had a right to be, sat across the narrow room. He looked almost bored, his head resting against the wall, his eyes closed. But why she couldn’t fathom. Two women kneeled at his feet, sharing his cock between them, licking and lapping at either side of him. Their tongues touched, intertwining at times in the most erotic kiss Paige had ever seen. Her pussy clenched as the fires of want began to build, hot and wild inside her.
At that moment, the man’s eyes opened. His head snapped up. Bright blue eyes burned as they stared into hers. Now Paige knew she wasn’t imagining anything. Those eyes were lit from within. She tried to look away, but she was held fast to the sig
ht, almost as if in a trance.
“That’s Raine.” Paige shuddered at Alan’s soft breath against her ear.
Paige shook her head, but she couldn’t pry her eyes off the sight of the two women bobbing up and down on him.
“I want to go,” she said. Her voice was breathy, unconvincing.
“No, you don’t.”
Alan wrapped his arm around the juncture of her neck and shoulder and pulled. Paige hissed in a breath as she slid across the hard wood and crashed hard against his hip. It had been five years since anyone but Zach had laid hands on her, and she had forgotten how strong a man could be when he wanted. Effortlessly, he lifted her up and resettled her between his thighs.
“You want to stay right here. You want me to touch you while you watch.”
It was true, though Paige couldn’t imagine admitting it.
He wrapped one arm around her, holding her fast to him. So close that the coarse stubble of his cheeks scratched against the back of her neck. He dipped his other hand down over the curve of her breast, making a little moan of approval. The sound went straight to the core of her. No one had ever made such a primal sound because of her. Never. Zach had barely paid attention to her body at all. Only now did she realize that his indifference had led to her to believe that she was unworthy of attention.
Paige started as he squeezed the small mound of her breast. A brief flash of pain raced through her. She bit into her lower lip, fighting the urge to ask for more.
He let go of her breast. Paige’s breath sped as his hand moved with deliberate slowness from her belly down to her hip. The anticipation was thrilling, like nothing she had ever felt before.
“But he’s watching.” Paige inclined her head toward the Nordic-looking giant he’d called Raine.
“Of course he is. He wants to watch you as much as you want to watch him. It wouldn’t be nice to let him down.” She tried to twist her body around and out of view, but Alan held her in place. He might not be half as brawny as his friend, but his body was lean, fast—a coiled strength instead of a brutish one. “Isn’t that what you called me? Nice? I would hate to make a liar out of you.”
He was taunting her, but instead of being upset, her pussy reacted with a surge of wetness as he caressed her thigh. He pulled up the hem of her skirt, slow inch by slow inch, giving her all the time in the world to think about what she was about to let him do. What she wanted him to do. In front of a total stranger.
Across the room, Raine’s eyes flashed brighter. The energy pouring off Alan began to build. Deep within her core, Paige could feel her own spark rekindle.
Paige hissed in a breath as he slid his hand under the elastic of her panties. She felt a shock of shame at how much his commanding ways thrilled her. His strong finger caressed the outer lips of her pussy for a moment.
His breath took on a primal rhythm against her ear. “You’re so wet.”
She shook her head, denying what was so obviously true.
“Your cunt tells a different story.”
His finger delved inside. Paige bit down on her lip so hard it stung. Her lungs were near bursting. She didn't dare breathe, frightened of what sound might come out of her when she did. He moved his finger in slow circles over her clit. Pulses of electricity shot through her with every revolution.
Paige clenched her eyes shut, torn between sensation and shame. But even the darkness provided no shelter. She could feel their eyes on her. Strange, glowing eyes. Two men—two strangers—wanted to watch her come.
“Open your eyes, Paige,” Alan commanded. “You want this.”
Dear God, she did. But fear stopped her. She wasn’t this kind of person. She couldn’t be. Opening her eyes, seeing her lust reflected in someone else’s eyes would change everything that she believed about herself.
He tightened his grip on her, crushing her body against his. The long ridge of his erection pressed against her back. Tension built inside her. She was so damn close to something that she hadn't felt in a long time. Maybe it was the thrill of the taboo, or maybe it was the skill of the man behind her. Usually it took her a long time to come, longer than Zach had been able to last, but now she found herself at the gates of orgasm in mere minutes.
Alan increased the pressure, and sped up his movements. Paige tasted blood as she bit her lip, trying for silence as her body trembled uncontrollably. It was a futile effort. A single cry escaped as bright, white pleasure coursed through every pathway in her body, every vein, every nerve. She floated down only as his hand slowed between her thighs.
Paige stilled, and leaned back against the hard plane of Alan’s body, until she rallied enough courage to open her eyes. Every head was turned her way; every gaze was on her. They’d all seen her. They’d all heard her.
Everything inside of her seized up as the thrill of moments before disappeared. Mortification quickly took its place.
“I’m so sorry.” She muttered the scattershot apology before pulling away from Alan in earnest. He let her go. She didn’t look back at him. She didn’t dare.
It didn’t matter what he thought of her. All that mattered was getting away from the stares of strangers before she was crippled by humiliation.
She ran, throwing open the door of the lounge and rushing into the lobby. The bright lights reflecting off the marble blinded her, and she lifted an arm to shield her eyes. She started for the entrance, but stopped after a few steps. She couldn’t go out there like this. Her dress was still hitched up. She’d left her shoes back in the lounge, and she couldn’t go rushing out barefoot into the street, no matter how much she wanted to. She needed to get a hold of herself.
She saw a women’s restroom sign and headed for it.
The door swung closed behind her. She went to the sink and turned the cold knob. She rested her elbows on the hard surface and listened to the rush of the water. Her head slumped down.
What had she done? Not even half an hour in Mercy Club and she had been splayed out in front of an audience.
And she’d liked it. A part of her did, at any rate. The part that she’d tried to silence for so long. That little voice inside her that she always hushed when she was tempted to cry out for more. More adventure. More sensation. More of everything.
The door swung open. Paige quickly straightened and pretended to wash her shaking hands. She kept her head down and focused on her breath, hoping to slow her pounding heart. The last thing she needed right now was someone asking her if she was all right. Not when she wasn’t sure about the answer.
The click of a deadbolt being slid home echoed off the bathroom walls. Paige shot up. Alan stood there, his back resting against the door, watching her.
Paige backed up until she hit the wall. She spread her arms out to her side, and splayed her fingers across the cold, white tile. She stared at him. He didn't make a move. He didn't have to. Where was she going to go? There was one way out and he controlled it.
“You shouldn't be in here,” she said, her voice too high, lacking conviction.
He laughed. “So says the woman who came to my club without an invitation.”
“Your club? You own Mercy Club?” Paige didn’t need him to answer. It made sense. He walked around like he owned the place—because he did.
“Along with eight others.”
“Maybe it would be better if I left now.”
He shook his head slowly, deliberately.
“I don’t want you to leave, Paige. And you don’t want to either.”
“How can you be so sure of that?”
“Because if that’s what you wanted nothing would have stopped you. You’d already be out there. But you’re not. You’re in here, waiting for me.” He stepped toward her. She saw her opportunity and ran for the door. His arm snaked out, just as she tried to pass. “You came here for more than a diddle in the lounge.”
His fingers were as tight as shackles around her arm, and just as unyielding. She pulled and twisted. With that same amused smile he patiently waited for
her to quit her vain attempt to run.
Paige wasn’t even sure who she was trying to run from anymore, him or herself.
He pulled her closer. She molded against his body. He slid his hand over her head, smoothing her hair. Halfway down he grasped the mass of curls and yanked down hard. The gesture lifted her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze.
“Didn’t you?”
Fighting had gotten her nowhere. Maybe the truth would.
Paige nodded.
His smile was devastating, at total odds with the force of his domination. His eyes stayed locked with hers as he hooked his arm under her knee and easily lifted her up. Paige wrapped her legs around his waist on instinct. He carried her to the line of sinks. She hissed in a breath at the feel of the cold porcelain against her exposed skin.
He was more forceful this time when he slid his hand up her leg. His fingers bit into the tender flesh of her thighs. He grasped the thin fabric crotch of her panties and wrenched them down. The slip of lace and silk tangled around her ankles, and she tried to kick them off. Keeping his hold on her hair, Alan undid the button of his jeans.
“This is what you wanted, Paige,” he said. “Isn’t it?”
She braced her hands on his shoulders, uncertain whether to push him away or pull him closer, wishing that he would make the decision for her. The thick tip of his cock pushed against the wet folds of her pussy.
She trembled against the stiff material of his jeans, wanting to feel the friction against her bare legs. But he stayed as still as she was. His grip on her hair tightened, and she swallowed a cry as her scalp began to sting.
“Wasn’t it?” he repeated.
“Yes.” Her voice sounded foreign, breathy and heavy.
The light behind his eyes flickered to life once more. “Then take it.”
He slowly pushed into her, giving Paige all the time in the world to think about what she was doing. He was so much bigger than she was used to. The walls of her pussy stretched tight around him. He pushed in as far as he could, but even as wet as she was, she was unaccustomed to his size.
Masters of Mercy Vol. 1 - 4 (BDSM erotica) Page 5
