by C. M. Albert
He trailed kisses down Emmeline’s torso, grabbing her waist and pushing her back against the table. She arched off the cold surface, lifting her mons into the air as an invitation. He unclasped the hooks on her garter belt and wrapped his fingers around the outside of her panties to slide them down over her hips. He pulled them down over her black stockings and past her toes. He knew he shouldn’t, but he balled them in his fist and shoved them into the pocket of his suit pants before unrolling the thigh-high stockings from her legs.
He looked down at Emmeline, who was now completely exposed on the table in front of him, like an open buffet for his offering. Her sweet pussy was shaved close, what little hair she had left in a neat, narrow strip down the center. If he had to guess, she looked to be around his age, and most women his age tended not to shave themselves down there. It was the younger women he’d dated, the groupies in their twenties, who liked to shave themselves completely. But this was a whole new ball game. He liked the little runway and traced two of his fingers down alongside it, making their way to her warm, wet center. When he gently parted her soft folds and slid two fingers deep inside, she gasped—the sound quickly morphing into something more guttural as he zeroed in on her G-spot.
His fingers danced along her swollen insides until Emmeline was on the brink. Then he slowly removed his fingers and placed them into his mouth, washing away the evidence of her pleasure. She couldn’t take her eyes off him as he licked, as if savoring her spicy sweetness. He looked at his watch. They still had an hour and a half. He was going to have some fun. He grabbed one side of his tie and yanked it from his neck. “Sit up,” he commanded.
She sat up on the table and looked at him, her body shaking with need and from the absence of his fingers. He wrapped the tie around Emmeline’s eyes, securing it behind her head. He hardened even more as he pressed her back against the boardroom table again. This time she was blindfolded and completely at his mercy. “Open yourself for me,” Dom commanded.
She parted her thighs, spreading herself on the table for him, completely trusting. He lifted his cock and stroked himself as he looked down at her. God, she was beautiful. Her black hair spread out around her face like some damn princess in a fairy tale. He’d never wanted to fuck someone so badly in all his life. “Play with yourself,” Dom said. “I want to see you pleasure yourself before I do.”
He watched as she ran her hands down her breasts and over her slender waist, dipping her fingers between her legs as she arched her hips. Using her thumb and pointer finger, she rubbed herself in a familiar, sensual way.
“Slide your fingers inside yourself,” Dom rasped as he stroked his long length in rapid movements. Each stroke matched the quick pace of Emmeline’s fingers as they slid in and out of her wet opening. “Enough!” Dom was done watching and wanted to taste the source of the sweetness he’d already sampled from his fingers.
He bent over and spread her legs even wider, wrapping them over his shoulders as he plunged his face into her hot center. She was so fucking wet. He licked up one side and down the other, groaning as the muscles in her legs constricted on both sides of his head. He sucked in her nub, loving the gasp she made as her hands flew to his head. Having no real hair to grasp, she held his ears, pushing his head against her in time to the movement of his tongue. He slid his fingers inside as he continued to lick, knowing just how deep to plunge them to get her to soar over the edge. He watched for the telltale signs as her breathing increased, her body bucking to meet his hand.
Soon enough, she started to squirm, the pressure building, becoming torturously unbearable. “Oh my God, Dom. Yes!” she called out as she peaked. He clamped his mouth over her sweet opening as she soared over the edge, her heady taste bathing his tongue.
Dom didn’t give her time to recover. He slid her body off the slick, white table and turned her over so she was facedown. He grabbed her long, thick hair into a ponytail and wrapped it around his fist, pulling her head back. Leaning over, he whispered into her ear, “Is this how you like it, Emmeline?” He smacked her ass with his left hand while he gently tugged her hair with his right.
He massaged the red spot where his hand had just left a mark on her beautiful white skin. Dom pressed his hard length against the pliable softness of her ass. “Are you ready to feel me inside you?”
She pressed back against him in response and moaned out, “God yes.”
Dom let go of her hair so he could remove his pants and position himself at her warm opening. With one hand clasping her hip, he guided himself slowly inside of Emmeline. She was so fucking tight Dom couldn’t help but groan. He slowly moved forward, just an inch at a time, so she could adjust to his width. Finally, he was all the way inside, the tip of his cock nearly bottoming her out. She moaned, throwing her head back as she pushed her rump farther toward him, causing him to brush her even deeper.
He chuckled, wrapping her hair around his fist again and giving it a swift tug. She immediately constricted around him, her body confirming how much she enjoyed that. His cock flared to see such soft hair wrapped around the hard fists he usually used for fighting. He knew he’d never look at his hands and not see her jet-black hair wrapped around them now. Fuck!
He slapped her firm butt cheek again and loved when it shook with the impact. She bucked against him when he did, so he began a slow rhythm of pumping inside her while yanking her hair ever so gently. Finally, when he could stand no more of the slow-and-gentle pace, he let go of her hair and grasped both of her hips. He yanked her body toward him and slammed deep inside until she cried out with pleasure. She screamed as he plunged deeper and quicker, their bodies slapping in a frenzied, animalistic rhythm that left them both sweaty and spent.
After feeling her climax for a second time that night, he was finally ready for his own release. “Can I come inside of you?” Dom asked.
“No!” she cried out. “I want to feel you on my skin.”
It was enough to unhinge him. He pulled out just in time and released himself onto her lower back. When he was done, he used both hands to rub the warm liquid across her back and around her waist. God, how badly he wanted to slide against her wet body and slip back inside her. He groaned.
“What time is it?” she asked quietly, removing the blindfold from her eyes.
Dom lifted his arm to check the nearly two-thousand-dollar TAG Heuer watch Simon had gifted him with for his last championship belt win. “We have over thirty minutes left. What do you have in mind?”
She turned to face him, rubbing her body against his. “Let’s go shower. There’s still time to play before our time together is up.”
Dom didn’t want to think about their time together ending. He held on tightly, pressing her into his heart. He knew what he was getting himself into the moment he’d taken the key from Simon. So why was he suddenly pissed that he wouldn’t get to see Emmeline again?
“Hey, no regrets, okay?” she said, taking his hand in hers. She led him from the conference room and into the massive bathroom. They crossed the heated floor and walked over to the white marble shower that took up nearly half the space.
Emmeline ran the water until it became warm enough to step under. She tugged his hand for him to follow her. Dom rinsed his hands and washed himself off before taking her in his arms again. He held her under the multiple showerheads and closed his eyes. It almost felt as if they were standing alone outside in a rainstorm. He ran his hands over her long hair and down her back.
“God, you are so beautiful,” Dom told her. “I hope you are told every day how beautiful you are. If you were mine, I’d never let you do this. I would own your body and you would never want another man between your legs. God, what is wrong with your husband, Emmeline?”
She looked up at him beneath the spray, her long, dark eyelashes framing the bright hazel of her eyes. “Don’t go there, Dom. You don’t know what you’re asking, or what you’re getting into. You know we aren’t allowed to talk about our private lives. It’s why I come here. Because I can forg
et my life at home and be loved again for just a couple hours.” She rested her head against his shoulder as they stood there, clutching one another.
“Besides, the next time you visit the White Room, you’ll have another beautiful woman in your arms and you’ll forget all about me, just as you should.”
“How do you know I’ll come again?” Dom asked.
“You’re too powerful not to,” she whispered.
“Can’t you arrange to be here again, at the same time as me? I’d love to be with you again, Emme.”
“Don’t call me that,” she said hoarsely. “Please, it’s just Emmeline.” She straightened in his arms and backed away. “We still have a few minutes. Can I take you in my mouth one more time? I want to be close to you again before I leave.”
“There are other ways to be close,” he said, nodding in the direction of the giant king-sized bed they could see from the open bathroom door.
“Yes, but I want to taste you, Dom,” she said, backing him against the slick, hard surface of the wall. “It’s not fair for you to have all the fun.”
It didn’t seem possible, but Dom grew even harder hearing her say that. Emmeline dropped to her knees and took Dom in her mouth, water streaming over her head and down her long, black tendrils as her head bobbed up and down his shaft. He grasped her hair in both fists and held on as she worked her warm tongue around him, making him gasp with the tight suction she was able to get with her mouth. She cupped him with her free hand, gently rolling his sac between her fingers while her other hand worked his length.
“Emmeline, are you sure you want me to come this way,” Dom asked, barely able to hold himself back. She clutched his ass and buried him deeper into her throat in response and Dom lost it. His hips thrust forward and he pushed himself all the way to the back of her mouth. He couldn’t help the guttural sound that escaped when he released his seed for the second time in less than an hour.
He pulled Emmeline up and wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her into his frame like a protective cocoon. “God, Emmeline . . . you are fucking amazing.” His body shook from the aftermath of the climax. It had been a long time since he’d come twice in one hour. He quite enjoyed the sensation and wished they had time for a third round.
There were still a dozen things he wanted to try with the adventurous woman he’d just met. They got out of the shower and quickly dried off. Dom slipped his watch back on and checked the time, just in case they had enough for one last quickie.
Damn! How had two hours flown by so fast? There were less than ten minutes left.
“Emmeline—” he began.
She shook her head no as she put on a fluffy white bathrobe that hung on the bathroom door and cinched it tightly around her waist. She quickly picked up her belongings that were scattered around the White Room as Dom forced himself back into the uncomfortable suit he’d arrived in.
“How do we just walk away from each other after that, Emmeline? I’m not usually such a pussy, but that was about as intimate as two people can get. How can I not see you again?”
Dom brushed an errant hair from Emmeline’s eyes and tucked it behind her ear as she looked up at him. “You’ll get used to it,” she whispered, looking away.
Dom swallowed hard, his heart not liking the walls that were slowly being built brick by brick between him and Emmeline. “Have you gotten used to it then?” he asked, not liking the jealous tone that crept into his voice.
“Yes, Dom, I have,” she said, searching the room for her panties. “There are rules for a reason, and they’re here to keep us safe. Just kiss me one last time before you leave, and believe me when I tell you that our time together was different. Special to me.”
Dom studied her face, uncertain whether to believe her or not. He held the back of her head as he lowered his mouth to hers. “I’ll never forget you, Emmeline. You were my first in the White Room.” Their tongues met, curling around each other’s in a moment of shared intimacy that was on borrowed time.
A gentle chime rang out, announcing the end of their time together. As they parted, their eyes met, an unspoken bond passing between them. Emmeline winked at Dom and sashayed from the room, exiting the same door she’d entered just two short hours earlier.
Dom stuck his hand in his pants pocket and grinned as he clutched her panties. He never was one for playing by the rules.
2
Lexie
LEXIE KNEW THE rules. She’d been in the White Room before. Many times. Divorce sucked, but spending her ex-husband’s money to live out her fantasies was the sweetest revenge. Served him right for cheating on her—and with his nurse, for God’s sake. Could the asshole be any more of a big, fat cliché? She adjusted her peekaboo push-up bra and grinned. Her new ensemble was something he would have begged her to wear during their fifteen years together. Now, someone younger and hotter would get to peel it from her athletic frame.
Her insides tingled in anticipation. The fun part was always waiting to see who would walk through the door. Sure, she’d answered extensive questionnaires about what she liked, whom she was attracted to, and what her boundaries were. But every time was a new adventure, and the six weeks between visits couldn’t come soon enough.
She lifted a glass of wine to her lips, enjoying the cool tartness that washed over her now-pierced tongue. It may have taken her thirty-eight years, but the minute the divorce papers were signed, she’d finally gotten her first piercing and first tattoo. She now had three tattoos—the thrill of the needle orgasmic in itself.
She wasn’t a bad mother because she wanted these things. She considered it a vital part of her self-care routine. She was finally learning how to make herself happy. And the White Room made her happy.
She paced the room, her leather boots making a sharp clack on the white tile as she walked over to the full-length mirror and ran her hands over her dark brown, five-six frame. The thigh-high boots added a good three inches, and her hair left natural added another two. She loved the gothic chic look she was rocking and how the boots lengthened her legs. It was Victorian meets punk, and was the last thing she ever would’ve been caught dead in around the other doctors’ wives. God, Lexie snorted, if those stuck-up bitches could see me now.
She still played tennis with a few of them, though many had dropped her like last season’s handbag as soon as they heard the D word. Cheating husbands were one thing—everyone in their circle had one—but actually divorcing . . . well, that was another thing all together. Oh well. Lexie pinched her nipples that peeked from the round cutouts in her bra until they stood hard, ready. She couldn’t care less what anyone from her social circle was doing right now. All she cared about was who would walk through those white double doors and make her forget.
The door creaked open and in walked a young man in his early twenties. With his sandy blond hair, chiseled abs, and megawatt smile, he looked like he’d stepped right off the pages of an Abercrombie & Fitch advertisement. His teeth were whiter than the room, and dimples flanked the sides of his perfectly sculpted mouth. Dear God, Lexie thought, if my panties had a crotch, they’d be drenched already.
He walked over, his head down, his blue eyes gazing up at her—all Justin Bieber innocent like. Yeah, he has an M.O., and he knows he’s hotter than sin. When he reached her, he cupped her chin and dragged his gaze slowly from her stiletto boots all the way up to her eyes. She was wary when he leaned in close and whispered, “I have a surprise for you.”
He pinched one of her pert nipples and grinned. Damn. He is almost—almost—too adorable to fuck. Lexie was used to being the one in control and didn’t like that he had a surprise. Especially being as young as he was. She reached down and cupped his balls through his jeans. “I’m the one who’s in charge in this room, do you understand me?”
Lexie was used to having her submissive partners obey her the moment they walked in through the door—or crawled. She’d said she’d be open to playing a sub just once, but this young man didn’t look emotiona
lly strong enough to dominate her.
“It’s not that fantasy,” he said, bringing his mouth just inches from hers. He ran his tongue over Lexie’s plump bottom lip. “But I was told there was something I could do that you would like.” He ran his hand down Lexie’s arm, over the black lace glove she was wearing. She shivered in excitement.
Okay, so maybe an element of surprise was what she needed.
“What do you have in mind?” she purred. She ran her hand over his chiseled chest, straight toward the hard V-line of his groin. And this—this was why she loved younger men. They would be fucking the entire two hours.
She was surprised when the door opened again and a beautiful, raven-haired goddess glided in. She was completely naked, save for her long black curls that covered the tops of her gorgeous tits. Lexie swallowed, hard. She’d been coming to the White Room for a long time now, and never once had they delivered on this fantasy for her. She’d almost forgotten that she’d approved it.
“Ah . . . this is Emmeline,” the young man said, though his eyes never left the woman who walked toward Lexie. It was as if he’d been just as surprised as she was at who walked in. “And I’m Asher,” he said, quickly recovering.
The woman stopped in front of Lexie, incredibly close in her personal space; though, all things considered, they were about to be all up in each other’s business.
“Well hello,” Emmeline said, those two simple words coming out throaty and sexy as hell.
“Hey,” Lexie whispered back. Gone was the leather-wearing dominatrix Lexie thought she was walking in as tonight. She glanced between Emmeline and Asher, uncertain of who would be the one in charge. The uncertainty unnerved her. Ever since the divorce, Lexie wasn’t a fan of relinquishing control. She always said she’d never do it again. Damn!
“We don’t have a lot of time,” Emmeline said. “You are comfortable with this arrangement, aren’t you?”
Lexie nodded. “Of course,” she answered in a low, husky tone. “It just surprised me. Are either of you submissives?”
