Need

by Becca Jameson

  He smiled. “I know you’re frustrated.” He stroked a finger under her chin. “It’s part of your training. You’ll learn to stop when I tell you to and come when I say so also. If you want to know what it means to be submissive, the first thing you learn is that your master controls your orgasms, not you. He will dole them out at his whim, not yours. Got it?”

  She nodded again.

  He lifted an eyebrow.

  “Yes, Sir.” Her voice was weak. This was it. She was in deep now. He’d pulled out the stops and meant for her to learn the role.

  Emily had no idea if she could comply. But she was titillated beyond belief.

  Taking a deep breath, Emily followed Rider into the club. The man outside the door nodded at them both as they arrived.

  Rider greeted him. “Frank. Crowded in there tonight?”

  “Not too bad.”

  They passed by him and made their way inside.

  Rider set a hand on Emily’s lower back. Even through the sweater she wore, his touch burned her skin. When they reached the front desk, Rider greeted the head bouncer, Harper. Emily had met him several times. She’d filled out paperwork and signed a waiver under his direction the first time she’d come with Virginia.

  While Emily took in the entrance and the massive build of Harper, she let Rider slip off her sweater. He handed it and the bike helmets to someone at the coat check and stepped in front of Emily, facing her. He lifted her chin. “You’ve been here several times now. You know most of the drill. Let’s put submission into action tonight. If you’re going to try your hand at submitting, you need to follow some basic rules—behaviors any Dom would expect.”

  She nodded.

  “Keep your gaze low, not your entire head so much as your gaze.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Don’t speak unless I ask you a direct question or give you permission to. Anyone who knows the life will not address you personally without clearing it with me. It’s common practice. Most importantly, relax.” He set his hands on her shoulders. “I’m not going to ask you to do anything you aren’t ready for. Just get a feel for what it’s like letting someone else take control.”

  “Yes, Sir.” It felt stilted calling him sir still, but she was growing more accustomed. She should count herself as lucky. When she’d first come to Extreme it had been under completely different pretense. Now, everything else in her life aside, she wanted to learn and experience this life in a safe consensual environment. The fact that she’d met this Dom and he took her under his wing was lucky for her. Now all she had to do was ensure she didn’t lose her heart in the process.

  •●•

  Rider guided Emily through the growing crowd until he reached the bar. He leaned over and took two bottles of water from the bartender. Carrying them both in one hand, he aimed for an empty table off to the side, his free hand on Emily’s lower back.

  He couldn’t stop touching her. And he never should have kissed her…

  Fuck. She was so sweet. He loved the way she tasted, the way she reciprocated, slipping her tongue into his mouth to tangle with his.

  He didn’t usually kiss the women he dominated. It was too personal. Most of the time his submissives were only in it for the experience of the scene. Rarely were they interested in him beyond his dominance at the club. And if they did show any interest, he ran from them.

  And then Emily came along. He loved that she was so raw while at the same time being older and thus more mature, settled. It was endearing.

  He was acutely aware he’d pushed her further than he’d expected to in the parking lot. He’d never known a sub to so easily acquiesce to the scene so quickly. The way he’d boldly stroked through her folds to bring her to the edge and then backed off was above and beyond. He hadn’t been able to keep from pushing her. She took it so well.

  And now his cock was rock hard. Your own fault.

  “Let’s sit here.” He pointed at the table they’d approached and set the two waters on the surface.

  Emily shuddered as she slid into the booth he’d chosen and scooted down the seat.

  Rider sat on the same side as her, boxing her against the wall. He turned toward her. “Lift your dress so your ass is flat on the seat, like last week.”

  It didn’t take much effort. As short as the fucking sexy dress was, she could barely tuck it under her if she tried. She squirmed for a moment, and then Rider set a hand on her thigh to still her. “Do you have any questions?” He stroked her leg, though he knew good and well he was distracting her. He couldn’t resist.

  She lifted her gaze.

  “You may be at ease. Speak freely. I’ll let you know when to assume a submissive stance.”

  She nodded. “Where did you get your nickname? From the police force or do you belong to a motorcycle club or something?”

  He furrowed his brow for a second before he realized what she was asking. And then he smiled. “Rider? That’s not a nickname. It’s my real name, on my birth certificate and all.”

  “Seriously?” She cringed. “Shit. I’m sorry. That came out rude.”

  He chuckled. “No biggy. I get that a lot. Who names their kid Rider? The truth is my mom died giving birth to me, and my dad was into motorcycles at the time. He didn’t know what to do, so he named me Rider. He raised me on his own.”

  “Oh God. I’m so sorry.” She set her hand on her chest.

  Rider shrugged. “It’s all I’ve ever known. My dad was awesome. He did a great job. The only sorrow I usually feel is for the hell I put him through in my teenage rebellious years.”

  “You?” Her voice was filled with sarcasm.

  Rider squeezed her leg and let his fingers crawl up higher, pushing the thin, see-through material of her dress at the same time.

  “Where’s your dad now?”

  “He lives in Florida. I talk to him every few weeks. We see each other on holidays.”

  “Dude.” The voice behind Rider jerked his attention over his shoulder.

  Rider lifted his gaze and turned to find Mason grinning down at him. Jenna was at his side, holding his forearm with both of hers.

  Rider rolled his eyes as Mason stared at him with raised brows. The guy wanted an introduction.

  Fine. Rider pointed at the other side of the booth across from him and Emily. “Join us.” If he was going to train Emily, he might as well enlist the help of Mason’s woman in the process. Jenna was sweet as pie, and Rider knew she would spend some time with Emily if he asked her.

  As soon as Jenna slid into the booth with Mason alongside her, Rider made the introductions. “Emily, this is Mason, sometimes one of my best friends. And his girlfriend Jenna.”

  “Sometimes?” Mason teased as he reached out a hand and shook Emily’s.

  Rider shrugged. “When you aren’t harassing me for one thing or another.”

  “Or beating your face in?” Jenna asked. She turned to face Emily. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Beating his face in?” Emily looked stunned, her eyes wide as she followed up on that question.

  “Guess you haven’t told her about that side of you yet,” Jenna said. “What is with you guys and all your secrets? Can’t you just come clean with a woman and move on?”

  Rider gripped Emily’s thigh tighter and lifted her knee onto the seat so she faced him more directly and her legs were spread wide. He watched her face flush with the new angle. “What Jenna is alluding to is that I’m an MMA fighter.”

  Emily narrowed her eyes in confusion. “What’s MMA?”

  “Mixed Martial Arts.”

  “When do you have time for that?”

  Rider chuckled, but so did Jenna and Mason.

  Jenna spoke next. “Good question. Don’t expect to see much of him. Between saving the world from thugs and working out at the gym, it’s a wonder he has time to stop by Extreme at all and let loose.”

  “When do you…fight?”

  “Friday nights when there’s a match. Usually once or twice a month. But I
spar with a group of guys at the gym several times a week too.”

  Jenna leaned forward and set her elbows on the table. “They call themselves The Fight Club.” She turned toward Mason. “Or was it Joe who christened the title?”

  “Who’s Joe?” Emily asked.

  Rider stroked her leg, reaching closer to her center, making her wiggle against the bench. “The gym owner. Known him for years.”

  “The Fight Club.” Emily repeated the name as though trying it out. “Sounds like something little boys might name their secret treehouse club.”

  Rider reached the last few inches toward her pussy and pressed a finger inside her while holding her thigh firmly.

  Emily gasped and grabbed his forearm with both hands.

  “Put your hands on the table, baby, where everyone can see them.” He didn’t remove his finger from inside her tight warmth. Hell, he didn’t want to. She was so wet, her arousal spilled around his intrusion. And the width of her eyes made him want to see what else he could make her do at the table. He wasn’t about to stop.

  Emily glared at him. “Rider…” She bit her lower lip between her teeth in a way that made him want to lick it, but after a short stare down, she did as he’d instructed. Her hands shook as she flattened her palms on the wooden surface and dug her fingers in as if to gain purchase.

  “That’s better.” He held her gaze.

  Mason finally spoke after a long pause. “I heard I won the bet. Looks like it’s true.”

  Rider jerked his gaze back to Mason and stared at him hard.

  Mason chuckled. “Well, I can see you have issues to handle with your woman here, so we’ll move along. Nice to meet you, Emily.”

  “She’s not my woman, Mason. She’s a trainee. I agreed to work with her and show her the ropes. But thanks for taking the hint. She has a lot to learn.”

  Mason stood, chuckling under his breath.

  Jenna scooted after him. She paused before standing and looked at Rider. “Katy and I are going to the fight next Friday if Emily wants to join us. Just putting it out there.”

  Rider nodded. “I’ll let you know.”

  Why was everyone treating Emily like she was his girlfriend? No matter what he said, they ignored him.

  When he turned his attention back to Emily, he found her much more demure. They were finally alone again. And his finger was still inside her. Her head was tipped toward the table, her gaze not meeting his at all. Her hair fell in ringlets around her face, almost obscuring her from his view. And she gripped the edge of the table with both hands so tightly her knuckles were white.

  Rider waited a beat and then removed his finger from inside her without releasing her thigh. His voice sounded gravelly when he spoke. “I think my trainee needs to get back in the role.” He stroked his fingers between her lower lips and up across her clit.

  “Sorry, Sir.” Her voice was soft. Too soft. Too compliant.

  He wasn’t sure what to make of it. Maybe she sensed he was ready to play. She flinched when he circled her clit and then flicked over the top several times. A low moan escaped her lips.

  “That’s it, baby. Just feel.” Whatever had put her in a quiet mood and caused her to become demure, he didn’t really like it. For all his talk of submission, he found he liked her better feisty. It suited her. Not that he wouldn’t train her to submit to him. That was awesome also, but he wasn’t fond of this new mood. As though she were defeated.

  Maybe it was the mention of the bet. Why did Mason have to go and bring that up?

  •●•

  Emily gripped the table top and fought against the warring emotions flooding her. She was so aroused her body hummed. She was excited to have met another woman she could hopefully commiserate with on the subject of BDSM.

  Never mind the mention of some bet. Had the guys placed a bet on how long it would take Rider to get between her legs? Ugh. Men.

  Mostly, she was disappointed and a little pissed Rider had so flippantly dismissed her as any more than his trainee. Intellectually, she could have kicked herself. She had no right to be angry. She was his trainee. She’d agreed to let him show her the ropes of dominance and submission. Nothing more.

  She had no right to be aggravated that he didn’t see a future with her. He had at no point been unclear about his position.

  Besides, she couldn’t possibly enter into a long-term relationship with him either. It was preposterous. If anyone at work ever found out she was dabbling in BDSM, she’d probably get fired. If her parents or brother found out she was hanging at the same club as her sister, they would freak. The only thing they would be able to imagine would be her lying dead in the street somewhere of an overdose.

  Never mind this club was clearly clean, and she had no idea on earth how it was her sister was using and hanging around a dry bar.

  Nope. She needed to shake herself out of her pity party. She didn’t want a relationship with a Dom any more than Rider wanted one with a submissive. They were even. She needed to loosen up if she was going to enjoy this role while it lasted. No reason she couldn’t have a little fun, experience some intense orgasms—because she knew perfectly well they would be on fire—and hopefully soon she would be able to get this sexy hunk out of his clothes and take advantage of other things he had to offer.

  Rider squared his shoulders so she was more surrounded by him in the corner of the booth. She couldn’t see around his broad width. And that was good, because she also couldn’t keep her eyes open with his fingers stoking her, driving her mad with a need she’d been harboring since the moment he’d arrived at her condo. The trip to Extreme on his bike had pushed her to the very edge of sanity. And now she sat at his mercy again.

  Only this time he was directly stroking her pussy. She squirmed, but to no avail because his firm hand held her in place. With one leg hanging toward the floor and the other bent against the vinyl, she was wide open to his touch.

  Rider leaned closer, his breath hitting her ear as he whispered. “So wet for me, baby. I’ve never felt this much arousal on a woman. It’s so sexy.”

  She stiffened.

  Rider swirled a circle around her clit and then pushed his finger back inside her. “So tight too. When was the last time you had sex?”

  Emily didn’t move. She couldn’t think, let alone speak. And she wasn’t about to answer the question.

  Rider gave a low groan. “Don’t answer that. It’s been a while. That’s clear.” He added a finger and scissored them inside her.

  Emily tried to draw back, but she had no space.

  “Stay still, baby. Feel me inside you.”

  She followed his instructions, needing release so badly she didn’t care where she was or what she had to do to get it.

  “Let it build. Let go. Stop fighting. Let me control your pussy.”

  Emily moaned. He was accomplishing at least as much with his words as his fingers.

  Suddenly his thumb landed on her clit and he pressed against the swollen nub while adding another finger to her channel.

  “Come, Emily. Now.”

  She let her head fall back as she did his bidding, letting the pressure that had built for so long explode out of her body. Her pussy pulsed and clenched at his fingers, as though drawing them in deeper.

  It was the best sensation she’d ever experienced. The best orgasm of her life. A low hum escaped her lips and continued unbidden.

  Rider slowed his movements, but didn’t remove his hand. He stroked her channel and her clit. “That was so fucking sexy, Emily. So pure.” His voice was gravelly.

  Emily tipped her head back down from staring unseeing at the ceiling and met his gaze. She wished she had the power to make everyone else in the club suddenly disappear so she could climb onto his lap and fuck him hard right that moment.

  Finally, Rider released her pussy and lifted his fingers to his mouth. He sucked each one clean, never losing eye contact. And then he smiled. “Delicious. So sweet. Both inside and out.”

  Her
mouth hung open, but she couldn’t speak. He’d scrambled her brain.

  “I arranged for us to have a private room. I thought we could practice some of the basics of submission and you wouldn’t be as intimidated without a crowd.”

  She nodded.

  “What are you thinking?” He cocked his head to one side.

  “That I want you to fuck me. Right now.” The words flew out of her mouth so fast she couldn’t stop them.

  He slowly smiled. “Good. That’s the idea. I like my submissives to want on a deep level. Especially after just coming. Means I’m doing something right.”

  She dipped her gaze, no longer able to keep eye contact with him considering the direction of this conversation.

  “Are you okay with the private room? Nothing will happen that you don’t want. Hell, nothing will happen that you don’t beg for.” He chuckled.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Good. Let’s go then.” He slid from the seat and took her hand to help her up. As soon as she was standing next to him, she wobbled. Her legs weren’t quite willing to support her so soon after all the blood in her body had congregated at her pussy. While she held the wall next to the booth for support, Rider reached above the booth, popped open a plastic tub she hadn’t noticed before, and pulled out a wipe. He cleaned off the vinyl bench seat and tossed the wipe in a small bin between the tables. “Ready?”

  Emily kept her gaze down, letting her hair curtain her flush of embarrassment. I just came at the table in a crowded club.

  With one hand on the small of her back, Rider guided her through the bar area and down a side hall to the left.

  She shook with need as he opened the door and led her into a room. All she could think about was touching him the way he’d touched her. She longed to see his body without the jeans and tight T-shirt. Hell, she wanted him to fuck her. Not a soft gentle love making, but a hard pounding fuck.

  Emily curled her fingers into fists at her sides. So unlike her. Her new cravings were startling. She kept her gaze lowered, flinching as Rider shut the door with a snick.

  She glanced around the small room without lifting her face. There wasn’t much. A brown leather loveseat, a small table, a plush brown rug.