by Lana Hartley
Room after room, she inspects her new surroundings as I continue to inspect her.
Just as her astonishment has yet to decrease, so has my amusement with her. Actually, the longer I’m around her, the more I find myself wanting her.
“And what’s in there?” she asks as we round a corner, pointing towards a slightly ajar door.
“Just the bathroom.” I shrug, heading towards it.
I throw the door open casually, flicking the light on.
Of all the things in this house, I would expect the fucking bathroom to be the least interesting. The moment her eyes fall onto it though, it’s clear how totally mistaken I was.
She stares at the oversized tub, her eyes widening more than ever as she skims across its ornate build.
“You like that?” I ask her, more intrigued than ever.
“It’s gorgeous,” she says simply.
“Gorgeous, huh?”
I can honestly say I’ve never thought of it that way.
Still though, I guess she has a point.
I cross the large room, my shoes echoing loudly against the tile as I approach the tub. Seen through her eyes, it really is quite a marvel of bathing. Tub definitely doesn’t do the monstrosity justice.
I turn back towards her, raising an eyebrow in curiosity as my hand reaches for the knob.
“Wanna take it for a spin?”
Her eyes widen again briefly before she can manage to cover her surprise.
“I—I don’t”
“Oh come on Grace. I think we’re past the point of modesty here. It was only hours ago that you had my cock in your mouth.”
I’m half expecting her to blush at the mere mention of our activities earlier but she surprises me, taking her bottom lip between her teeth as she stares at me in thought.
“You’re right.” She says simply, taking another step into the room. “It is kind of stupid to be afraid now.”
I give the tap a hard twist and am immediately rewarded with the sound of rushing water. Steam filters up almost immediately, caressing my skin as I stand upright to face her.
“Good, then let’s get you out of those clothes.”
12
Grace
The room is already filling with steam by the time I’m halfway across it, my heart thumping near painfully in my chest.
I know that, after what happened earlier, being alone with just this one man should probably seem like a piece of cake.
But it doesn’t.
Daniel watches my every step as I near him, his eyes openly tracing slowly down the length of me.
His gaze is like touch, it’s like pressure, teasing and caressing its way down my body even from this distance.
My hands have already gone back to trembling, my legs shaking slightly as I continue to move towards him. I want this, I fucking need this, but my body is still apparently in shock over tonight’s crazy events.
Clearly getting impatient, Daniel finally moves towards me, clearing the space between us in a few long strides until we’re face to face again.
I think he’ll kiss me, God knows I want him to, but he doesn’t lean for me, doesn’t press those enticing lips against mine.
Instead he grabs quickly for the hem of my dress, pulling it up and off in one swift, practiced motion.
I can barely process his movement before my dress is dropping onto the floor, pooling around my feet in a lacey puddle.
I totter slightly on my heels, hearing them clack against the tile as I right myself. As I straighten, thankful I’ve avoided another embarrassing tumble, I find Daniel staring again, a shit eating grin pulling at his lips.
“Sorry.” I murmur.
He doesn’t respond, merely reaches behind me to unclasp my bra. In no time at all it joins my dress on the floor.
My underwear he doesn’t even bother to properly remove, simply reaching down to tug at the last of the flimsy fabric between us. It gives way easily, the lace and thread tearing with a soft rip as his fingers pull at them.
The last barrier gone, he stands still for a long moment, his eyes caressing me in that nearly palpable way once again.
My instinct is to cover myself, to fold my arms across my chest and turn away, but I fight against it, delighting in the feel of his eyes on my skin and imagining the thrill of his hands.
I’m already wet again, dripping in fact, and I have no interest in denying myself this moment.
I want Daniel more than I’ve ever wanted anyone. Anyone other than Michael and Richard of course. But they aren’t here right now.
There’s no one around but us, and I want nothing more than to take advantage of that fact.
His scan of my quivering body finished, Daniel takes a step backwards. It’s all I can do to stop my hands from snaking out, to fight the urge to pull him back to me.
I want to touch him, to feel him in a way that I’ve never felt anyone. I want to rip the fucking shirt from his back.
Again though, my plans are foiled as he begins to undress himself.
Slowly, his eyebrow arching in amusement as he moves, he starts to pull piece after piece of clothing from himself.
His jacket, his shirt, they fall quickly to the tile, taking up place beside my own forgotten clothing.
I can’t look away from him, and judging from his smile, he doesn’t want me to.
With torturous slowness, he reaches for his belt, unfastening the buckle with a quirk of his lips.
I can already see how hard he is, how his cock presses against his pants. The moment he finally slides free of them though, I once again find my breath catching in my throat.
In the clear lighting of the bathroom, he’s even bigger than I remembered, he’s huge.
His cock throbs as he frees it, the sheer length of him all but begging to be sucked.
“Get in to the tub,” he tells me, breaking my focus on his throbbing dick.
As much as I’d like to continue to stand around and stare, I don’t argue.
Why would I, considering the thrill of what’s to come?
I walk past him, trying to hide the way my limbs tremble. The water is hot as I step into it, almost too hot. It sends small sparks of pain racing up my legs as I walk into its unusually large depths.
Steam weighs heavy above me even as the water stings pleasantly below and I turn to face Daniel with a smile now pulling at my own lips.
He grins back as he takes his own step into the steaming water, a small groan escaping him as he does.
“Sit down,” he says.
Without even the barest moment of hesitation, I do.
Even without understanding exactly what this is, I want it. I need it. So as he tells me to sit, I find myself lowering quickly into the water, smile still etched onto my face.
His smiles his approval down at me as he sits as well, lowering to his knees before me.
I have my legs together, bent at the knee as he reaches for me.
Without any more preamble, without any further build up, he grasps me on either leg, pulling roughly to spread them before him.
I hear a gasp rush from between my lips, I feel my body grow taut in surprise, but he doesn’t slow.
Instead he leans over me, his hips pressing against my thighs as he takes my mouth in a kiss unlike any I’ve ever felt.
He tongue presses firmly against mine, driving a moan from me as he pulls me tighter against him.
I’m not ready for him to pull back, but he does, looking down at me with a near kind of fire in his eyes.
He slides slowly downward before grabbing my ass in either hand, raising the lower half of me from the water in one quick movement.
And then his mouth is on me. Powerful, insistent.
His tongue probes roughly against me, pulling a completely unfamiliar cry from my mouth the moment I feel him.
He’s not slow or hesitant, he doesn’t wait to ask my approval. As I’m coming to expect from him, from all of them, he just does.
His tongue f
licks wildly against my clit, stoking a flame to build in my core.
I’ve said before, I may be a virgin, but not entirely a saint, but this is like nothing I’ve ever known before.
I throw my head back with a loud cry, reaching downward to grasp his hair between my fingers.
My body seems to understand the situation even if I don’t. My hips rise along with my ass, my body thrusting in time with his movements.
I feel completely under his control, obsessed with his every movement.
My entire existence seems to have been reduced to the flick of his tongue, the grasp of his fingers on my ass.
I don’t mind in the slightest.
I feel my body stiffening, my muscles growing taut as I continue to thrust against him in manic pleasure.
“Oh God!” I cry, pulling harder at his hair as my orgasm builds within me.
Wave after wave of ecstasy pours through my body, electricity shooting through my limbs as his name finds its way to my lips.
“Daniel!” I scream, repeating the cry like a mantra as I come against his waiting mouth.
13
Grace
The week has passed in a blur of overwhelming excitement, every day seeming more intriguing than the last.
I’ll admit, when the guys first offered this deal to me, I wasn’t sure exactly how the whole thing would work.
This though, has far exceeded even my greatest expectations.
Daniel has been very specific with his needs from me, even going so far as to give instructions for what I’m supposed to wear. Before coming here, I would have thought that would bother me, but the reality is that I feel utterly at peace in my new situation.
In addition to the outfit instructions, Daniel was also very concerned with the way that I spend my time. On this matter, I didn’t even think to question him. My days, and nights, were to be spent as he instructed: relaxing in luxury.
Hard to argue with a command like that.
So I didn’t, and haven’t since.
Every day that’s passed has been nothing but indulgence, every moment like I’d imagine a luxury retreat would be. Had I ever been able to afford one, that is.
Now though, my week with Daniel is coming to an end and I again find myself feeling uncertain.
From Daniel, I’ve been told that I’m supposed to move on to Michael, then from him to Richard.
Even thinking about it makes my heart flutter slightly in my chest.
What, I wonder, will it be like to be with Michael? Will he have similar expectations to Daniel, or am I stepping into a whole new ball game?
I guess only time will tell, and with the hour drawing near, very little of it at that.
I spend my last few hours soaking in the luxury around me, relaxing and daydreaming about what’s to come next.
As hard as I try, I simply can’t imagine. From what I’ve seen of these men, they’re all so very different from each other.
Daniel seems thoughtful where Michael seems carefree, and Richard, well just trying to figure out how to pin him down has me thinking about him pinning me down…
Truth be told, I have no idea what’s in store for me with Michael this afternoon, but I feel my pulse quicken with excitement at the thought of finding out.
Before I know it, the time has come anyway, announced with a gentle rap at the door.
Daniel told me that I’d be getting picked up shortly, so I’m ready the moment I hear the knock, walking briskly towards the door to greet Michael.
I’m more than a little disappointed to find that it isn’t him on the stoop, but rather his driver, sent with instructions to pick me up and deliver me to him.
Sighing with frustration, I grab my bag and head for the limo.
I’ve waited all day already. I can wait a few minutes more.
The driver tucks my bag safely into the trunk as I climb into the back seat. For obvious reasons, being back in a limo brings my situation back into focus.
Three men. What the hell am I thinking?
This last week might have been a dream but that was just one of my guys. How on earth am I of all people meant to handle another two?
My thoughts linger on the question as the limo cruises expertly down the road, traffic zooming past in the afternoon rush.
Now that I’m actually on my way to see Michael, I feel that same old hesitance building up inside me.
Not that I’m not still excited, my pounding heart and aching pussy are more than enough to banish that thought, but I worry. I worry that I’ll go and screw this up, or that Michael won’t be as satisfied with my presence as Daniel.
Even if he is, there’s still Richard to think of.
The thoughts twirl wildly through my mind as we continue to cruise ever nearer to our destination. Swirling between dread and overwhelming excitement, I’m more confused that ever by the time we pull up to yet another gorgeous estate.
If anything, this one’s even larger.
I take a deep breath as the driver comes around to open my door, a courtesy I’m still not used to.
“Thank you.” I mutter, already preparing to take my first step towards the house.
Better to just get on with it, rip off the band aid, so to speak.
“Just a moment, miss,” he responds, his words stopping me in my tracks.
“Yes?” I ask, turning back to him.
“There’s just one last thing.”
He reaches into his jacket and I watch curiously as he fishes around for something within.
It only takes a moment for him to find it and as I watch him pull free the blindfold, my breath again catches in my throat.
“Boss’s orders,” he says with a shrug, holding the length of black cloth up for my inspection.
“A blindfold?”
He shrugs again, his expression begging me not to argue.
I stare blankly at him for a long moment before relenting.
I’ve come this far, might as well follow through.
“Alright, if he insists.”
“Oh, he does.” He chuckles, stepping forward and gesturing for me to turn.
I do as he bids, spinning around so that he can bind the blindfold behind my head.
Darkness descends instantly, stunning and absolute.
I feel fingers grip gently around my bicep.
“I’ll lead the way,” the driver’s voice announces.
“Thank you.”
My first steps are hesitant, even though I’ve already had a look around some part of me insists on behaving like I’m about to walk off the face of a cliff.
After a few moments though, I regain my stride; wanting, if nothing else, to not look like a complete and utter fool when I see Michael again.
In short order I’ve been led safely into the house, through the entry, and down several winding hallways. Or at least, they feel like hallways.
I’m just beginning to feel impatient when I hear a door open immediately ahead of me.
“You’ll be going down some stairs now,” the driver informs me. “Step when I say.”
The first blinded step makes my heart drop; the second makes me feel dizzy. By the time I’ve gone a dozen or so though, I once again have my bearings.
Another dozen and I’m back on solid ground.
“I’ll take my leave of you now, miss,” the driver tells me, his fingers loosening from my arm.
“And Michael?” I ask, suddenly afraid of being left in the dark.
“Already here,” a voice offers. Though distant, I recognize it immediately.
“O—oh, hello.” My stammer betrays my nerves immediately. Of course it does.
I listen to the sound of the drivers receding steps as I puzzle over what to say next, my thumbs twiddling nervously in front of me.
After a long moment, I finally hear the basement door open and shut again, a clear signal that we’re alone.
“You can take that off now,” Michael instructs.
With shaking hands, I reac
h behind my head, fumbling for a moment at the tie before I manage to loosen it.
I open my mouth, intending to try for a better greeting once I can actually see my host, but the moment the blindfold falls away the words die in my throat.
What the fuck?
I’m standing just at the foot of the stairs in an unusually large basement, though basement might not be the right word.
It is a basement, in the strictest possible terms but one look around has me distancing my thoughts from the phrase.
Not a basement, a dungeon. That’s the word.
All around me are odd contraptions, whips, ties, and handcuffs. Devices I have no name for hand idly from the walls, odd riggings line the floors.
I stare stupidly around at the startling collection, knowing full well what these kind of things are intended for and yet, totally lacking any knowledge of how they actually work.
Michael, of course, stands at the other end of the room, in the very center of his collection.
His blonde hair gleams golden in the dim lighting, his blue eyes piercing me even from this distance.
I note the way one side of his mouth curls into a mischievous smile, I see the way his eyes sparkle as the run across me.
“Hello Grace,” he says, taking a step nearer.
“Michael,” I manage to choke out.
“I’m glad you’re finally here,” he says casually, reaching out with one hand to touch a large whip hanging nearby.
“I—yes, me too.”
He chuckles slightly at my response, a deep, gravely sound that sends electricity racing through me.
“Good,” he says, turning his attention back to me. “Now why don’t you get on your knees and crawl over here.”
14
Michael
I watch with a smirk as shock washes over her face either at the fact that I ordered her to crawl to me, the fact that she is standing in a sex dungeon, that she’s signed up for a week of this, or all of the above.
Probably all of the above.
She looks at me with wide eyes and balks, cocking an eyebrow as she shifts her weight on her hips.
