by Penny Wylder
“Dancing is very much like sex,” he says, bending and licking my nipple, “and having fucked you, I know that’s not true. You’ve got to be an amazing dancer.”
I blush as his mouth continues its path across my skin, moving to my other breast and back up to my collarbone. With a final tug, my panties drop to the floor and I’m completely naked in front of him. My back is against the bars of the cage, cool metal making me shiver as he presses his completely clothed body into me. Even so, I can feel how hard he is. “It’s not fair how many layers you have on,” I tell him.
Cole smirks and bends to kiss me. His lips touch mine, and I swear that I’m on fire from the heat. Our tongues dance with each other and he steals my breath, plunging deep inside my mouth the way I want him to be deep in other places. And then he pulls away all too soon. “I never said I would play fair.”
We stare at each other. I’m challenging him, and he’s waiting for me to back down. The heat in his eyes burns through me the same way it did on the night we met—unstoppable and unyielding. Wetness floods my pussy, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it starts to run down my legs.
“In you go,” he says softly.
I step into the cage, looking down through the glass floor to the club below, watching the sea of moving bodies. I thought I might feel some kind of vertigo or fear of heights stepping onto the clear surface, but I can tell that it’s rock solid. I’m not going anywhere. The door to the cage closes, and I hear a little click. I turn to see Cole closing a tiny padlock on the outside. “What are you doing?”
His hand snakes through the bars of the cage and around the back of my neck, pulling me forward to kiss me. “My captive,” he says as he breaks away from the kiss. I push towards him, and the cold metal of the bars makes me shiver. “I’m the king of this club, and if you want your freedom, you’re going to have to earn it.”
My stomach drops with that same desperate need that’s become so familiar around him. That same fantasy in very different circumstances. This feels more solid, more real. This isn’t a game of pretend, this is me and Cole. This is his eyes on me. This is me giving my body to him. God, yes. Cole’s fingers graze my jaw as he retreats, sitting on the couch in the middle of the room. Anyone looking would think he’s utterly relaxed, but I can feel his eyes on me, and I know that he’s never been more focused.
I’m glad he’s across the room, not close enough to see the blush that heats my cheeks, doubts and confusion crowding my mind as quickly as the arousal that’s flowing through me. I’m naked and locked in a cage while he watches. How’s it possible that I find this so hot? I almost laugh. Why not? With the things that go on in this club, I’d have to ask that question a hundred times. Just because it’s not something that everyone does doesn’t make it wrong or weird. The people that frequent Club Deep are a testament to that. None of them would bat an eye seeing a girl naked in a cage. More than a few would stop to watch. They’d find it…sexy.
My body relaxes, and I listen to the music of the club. It’s a sensual rhythm—one made for hips to move against each other, grinding, pulsing, thrusting, sex. I try to imagine that instead of being in a cage across from him, I’m in the middle of that dance floor with Cole. What would I do? How would I touch him? How would I dance for him? I put those thoughts into my head as I begin to move. I use the small space of the cage to my advantage, using the bars to steady myself. Leaning and twisting and pressing. I let myself go and it feels like I become the music, my body an extension of the rhythm moving through the air.
And through everything, Cole watches me, and I watch him. It feels like we’re connected across the space by something visceral and physical. I can feel my wetness running down my legs as I dance, and the longer I’m in the cage, the more aroused I become. I want to earn whatever he has planned for me. Rolling my body against the bars of the cage, I watch as Cole unbuckles his belt and frees his cock. I watch as he begins to stroke himself, his eyes never leaving mine.
He starts slowly, gripping the base of his cock with his fingers and pulling upwards, and then pulling downwards. It’s slow and sensual, and my body instinctually moves with him, rolling and twisting to the tempo of his fingers. And then it’s his whole hand, curling around his shaft, tempo and desperation rising the longer we stare at each other. Even though I’m free and dancing, I feel bound by him—bound by his eyes and his hand and his desire to watch me.
I’m not sure how long we stay like that: Me dancing, Cole stroking. It seems like we’ve been like this for only a few seconds, and also forever.
Cole stands, hand still on his cock. He approaches the cage slowly, and I slow my dance, deliberately teasing him as he approaches. Closer and closer he comes, until he’s standing directly in front of the bars. Until he’s pressed against them, cock reaching through. All it takes is a raised eyebrow from him to send me to my knees. I know how I’m going to earn my freedom.
I reach out to touch him, running my fingers along his skin and tracing everything from the head to the base. He hisses out a breath and I grin up at him. If he’s going to make me earn my freedom, then I’m going to make sure I tease him. I brush my lips across the tip, just touching. It’s a split second decision, but I decide to do everything slowly—I want him in delicious agony.
The tip of my tongue draws a slow line around his head, dragging across the top, tasting the salty precum already leaking from him. I draw lines up and down his shaft, lapping at his skin as slowly as I can. Glancing up, I see that Cole’s eyes are closed and his hands are fisted around the bars of the cage. He’s gripping the metal so hard that his knuckles are white, and I smile because I know that my plan is working.
I take him into my mouth a millimeter at a time, moving forward and back slow and steady. My lips drag at his skin, and I love the feel of him, the taste. I love the look on his face of utter bliss. Heat streaks through me down to my pussy. I may not have known I’d like any of the things here at Club Deep, but I’ve always loved this. Using your mouth on someone is so intimate and so personal. It’s entirely about the other person’s pleasure, the ultimate act of sexual giving.
One of Cole’s hands lands in my hair, fingers weaving in and holding on. He urges me faster, and I resist. I suck him deeper a little at a time, and he groans in frustration. I laugh, letting him feel the vibrations on his skin. He chose this, he has to live with it. But as I take him deeper, suck him harder, I start to move faster. I match my mouth to the rhythm of the music surrounding us, and Cole groans. His fingers grip harder in my hair and the sounds coming from him roll across my skin in shivers.
His breath goes short and there’s a moment where I feel him take control, and I let him have it. He guides me down deeper onto his cock, groaning. I look up at him, and he opens his eyes. I see something change in his eyes and he pulls me off his cock. “Stand up. Turn around. Bend over.” Cole’s voice is rough, brimming with urgency and restraint as he tells me what he needs. I do as he says, pressing my ass against the cage. It’s small enough that I can grab the other side and use it to steady myself.
I hear the sound of a condom opening, and then he’s there. He enters me in one swift thrust, and my voice is lost in the music. The world cracks around me, and there’s nothing but me and him and the feeling of him inside me. Pleasure rolls across my body hard and fast, my nipples hardening and the new surge of wetness making him feel that much better. Cole grabs my hips through the bars, holding me against them as he plunges into me. This isn’t a seduction—this is a king taking his captive as he sees fit.
He’s going so fast that I’m breathless, and I love the feeling of him sliding against me. I love the feeling of being taken, knowing that I’m the source of his greatest pleasure. It doesn’t take him long. Cole groans as he thrusts against the cage, burying himself in me as deeply as he can with the bars in the way. He rests on them while we’re still joined, and I hear him curse. “I think you’ve earned your way out.”
He slips out of me and I turn to
give him a smirk. “Thank you, Sir.”
Cole unlocks the cage and pulls me out, guiding me over to the couch. He pushes me down onto it playfully. “Your turn.”
“It’s all right,” I say.
“No, it’s not,” he says seriously. “With me, you always come.”
I raise an eyebrow. “That’s quite a promise.”
“One I intend to keep.” He kneels in front of me, grabbing my ankles and pushing them up until I’m nearly bent in half.
I giggle, “You trying to test my flexibility?”
“Maybe. Or maybe I’m just trying to have the best access to that pretty pussy of yours.”
There’s a witty reply on my tongue, but it evaporates into thin air as he starts to use his. “Oh. Sweet. Fuck.”
“Mmm. Yes you are.”
He dips his tongue into my pussy, stroking me deeper than I ever thought possible with a tongue. It feels so good, and Cole knows exactly where to lick to make me start to shake. My heart rate spikes, breath goes short, and suddenly the muscles in my legs are shaking. I’m already close from him being inside me, and his mouth is relentless on my clit, sucking and biting and licking, and I’m so close.
The door slides open and Rosie strides into the room, “Mr. Andrews, there’s something that needs your immediate—” She freezes as she realizes what she’s seeing: The owner of the club with his face and tongue deep in my pussy. My orgasm disappears like smoke.
Rosie’s mouth is open in shock, and I can feel the tension in the room. Cole leans back far enough to turn his head towards her. “Rosie, please leave.”
His voice is calm and level, but also a voice of a boss that I wouldn’t disobey.
“I’m sorry,” she says, gathering herself. “You’re needed downstairs.”
There’s an edge in his tone now, “Whatever it is, I’m sure that Hudson or Julian or security will be able to handle it.”
“But—”
“Leave. Now.”
Rosie hesitates another second, giving me a long look before disappearing out the door. As soon as it shuts, I let out a relieved sigh. “What the fuck was that.” The sudden reality of the situation crashes around me, and my whole body blushes. “That was horrible, and embarrassing and awkward.”
Cole smirks. “Just a little, but not the end of the world.”
“But now everyone is going to look at me like I’m the girl who’s fucking the boss.”
“Is that such a bad thing?”
“That’s not what I meant,” I say, sighing and leaning back against the couch. “But people aren’t really fans of people that do that.” My orgasm has disappeared.
“Looks like you’re already going to have to break your promise.”
“The hell I am,” he narrows his eyes. “You think a little interruption like that is going to stop me from making you come?”
“I—”
He slides two fingers into me, right against my G-spot. His other hand presses down low on my belly and with the first thrust, I’m back. Oh my god, the way he’s pressing down takes me right to the edge. His fingers are hitting it directly, and suddenly I’m seeing stars. Using his hand, he fucks my G-spot with that same relentless energy that he used with his mouth. And he does keep his promise. In minutes I come, screaming, grabbing his shoulders, and spasming on the couch. The club disappears and the pleasure burns through me like dynamite, colors exploding behind my eyes and in my veins. Cole milks all the pleasure he can from me with his fingers until I can’t take it anymore—until I’m begging him to stop.
“See?” he says. “I keep my promises.”
“Goody two-shoes,” I say, rolling my eyes.
He laughs. “Be careful. I might have to spank you.”
“Is that another promise?”
10
Rosie is in the locker room when I enter, and I freeze, worried that I’m going to get an earful. But I don’t. She doesn’t look happy exactly, but not angry either. “You and Mr. Andrews?”
“Yeah.”
“I can see why. I had a crush on him when I first started too,” she laughs. “Never did that, though.”
I make my way to my locker and grab my stuff, not exactly sure what to say. Luckily, she’s the one who leaves first. “Good luck.”
“Thanks.”
Is that it? If that’s the only reaction I’m going to get, then I’ve been worrying a lot for nothing. I pull out my phone and text him.
I’ve changed my mind. Want to go on that date? Hint: I have the night off tomorrow.
I’m almost to my car when the response comes through.
Tomorrow night it is. Seven o’clock. I’ll pick you up.
And a few seconds later.
Wear something sexy.
I roll my eyes.
As if I would wear anything else.
I can almost hear him laugh.
That’s my girl.
My doorbell rings at exactly seven. I guess punctuality is another thing to add to my growing list that I’ve never noticed before. But then again, you don’t have to be punctual at a club that you own. Opening the door to my apartment, I feel my jaw drop.
I’ve seen Cole in button downs and suit pants, but never an actual suit, and the effect is…wow. It’s perfectly tailored, emphasizing his height and the width of his shoulders. He looks like he stepped out of the pages of a men’s fashion magazine and it’s making my mouth water. “Hi,” I say, more than a little breathless.
“Hello.” His eyes travel up and down my body, and I blush. I pulled out all the stops tonight, digging out a little black dress that I haven’t worn in years. It’s a little tight in the bust and hips, but I’m wearing it anyway because I know that Cole will like it more because of that. “You look beautiful.”
I step aside to let him in, and he comes face to face with Brownie. “Hey girl,” he says, crouching down to her level. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
She’s pretty much back to her usual self, though I still see her stepping gingerly from time to time. Brownie has always been wary of strangers—especially men. I rescued her when she was a puppy after she’d had some bad experiences. So I nearly pass out on the floor when she immediately wags her tail and comes over to him, jumping up on his shoulders to sniff and lick his face.
Cole laughs, patting the top of her head, telling her she’s a good girl, and Brownie loves every second of it. He’d told me he was a dog person, but seeing it is different. I’ve always thought that you can tell a lot by the way a person treats animals, and the kindness Cole is showing Brownie right now is speaking volumes.
“I’d love to stay and hang out with you, but if I do, we’ll miss our reservation.”
“Where is our reservation?” I ask, grabbing my keys and giving Brownie a final scratch on the head.
Cole grins. “Italian.”
The restaurant is gorgeous with a great view of the skyline. There’s a table waiting for us on the balcony. The evening sun warms my shoulders, and I’m glad that we decided to do this. It feels strange, though, everything is so bright, so normal. I’m used to seeing him in the vivid colors and shadows of Club Deep. Seeing him in this kind of light is different. I like it.
We order, the waitress bringing us a bottle of wine at Cole’s request.
“Okay,” I say. “Now that we’re out of the club, you have to tell me the story.”
“What story?”
I laugh. “The one about how you came to own a sex club. A wildly popular one, too.”
“It’s really not that interesting.” He takes a sip of his wine.
“I still want to know, though.”
He tilts his head, thinking. “Well, Julian, Hudson, and I, we met while we were all in college. But we didn’t meet at college. By random chance we ended up at a play party. I’m grateful for that now, because we were so young and had no business really being there. But the ratio of the party was terrible. We ended up talking and drinking the whole night. Left the party and went for pizz
a.”
“Pizza is sometimes better than sex,” I interject. Cole raises an eyebrow and I clear my throat. “I mean, not with you, but with some people.”
“I’m going to come up with games comparing sex to pizza now. You know that, right?”
I toast him with my wine glass. “Naturally. You were saying?”
“We went out and talked. And a lot of what we talked about was the party, how it hadn’t been handled well. How we hadn’t found any parties or clubs that seemed perfect. A lot of them were too specific, too much into one kink. The three of us are all different, but we wanted a place where we could all fit in and have what we wanted. So we just kind of hatched this idea of the perfect sex club, where anyone could come, no matter the kink. Within reason.
“It was a joke at the time, but we became friends. And when we all graduated, we decided that we were going to work towards that goal. We spent a couple of years looking at other clubs to see what worked and what didn’t before taking the plunge.”
“Why here?”
“Vacationers,” he says. “We found that people are more likely to seek out something different when they’re on vacation, and Phoenix is a huge tourist destination. So we always have new faces along with the regulars.”
I nod. “Smart.”
“Thanks.”
“Those clients I served the first night. Who were they? I didn’t realize a club like this could have clients.”
Cole’s face darkens immediately, and I wonder if I stumbled on something that I shouldn’t have. “They were potential investors.” He sighs, his shoulders falling. “I guess my story wasn’t totally complete. There were four of us. But last year,” his jaw tightens. “Last year we found out our fourth partner had been embezzling from us. Making the books look like we were profitable, and actually taking all of the money.”
A pit forms in my stomach. “I’m so sorry.”
He shrugs like it’s nothing, but I can tell it hurts him more than he’s letting on. “He disappeared with the money. The club does well, and day-to-day we operate in the black, but he left us with some huge debts and holes in our safety net. Bringing in new investors would help, but those men you met, I don’t like them. Neither do the others. We won’t be inviting them to buy in.”
