Fulfilled [Club Pleasure 5] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Allyson Young

  “I don’t date.” He could scent her, soap and shampoo and something else. Sweet woman.

  He dragged his mind away from dark sexual acts and focused. “Me neither.”

  She laughed, and the musical sound soothed those senses. It was a push and pull he thought he’d never tire of. What was he thinking? He had to stand down before she insinuated herself right into his soul and he couldn’t get her out. What if this was just about domination and submission? Training? If it turned out that’s all she wanted? What if it wasn’t and she had expectations he couldn’t fulfill? Fuck.

  “Um, do I call you Master or…?”

  “Not here, little one. Jon or Jonathon.”

  “Jonathon.”

  He was startled. People called him Jon, or Spence, the Rock, hard-ass maybe, but rarely Jonathon. Not even his parents or his siblings. He nodded his pleasure, and her face lit up. So did his day. Shit, she was getting to him. She’d gotten to him and it was time he got with the program and quit being a pussy.

  “So, Lois, tell me about yourself.” That sounded like dating, maybe.

  He heard her share some basic information and recognized how she withheld. Shame? Guilt? He didn’t know, but he’d find out. “You won’t hide from me, Lois.”

  And there it was, the response, the connection. A pale-pink flush crept up over her throat and painted her cheeks. If she was at the club he’d know where that blush originated. The swell of her breasts? From her areolas? Her eyes darkened to mocha, dilating with arousal. She needed to share, to be peeled back, layer after layer. This he understood and craved and was what he needed as well. This he could give her, and if the rest of it was meant to be, whatever the rest of it was, it could come. He was man enough, in almost every regard.

  He drank his coffee as she pulled herself back together, once again the demure yet sensuous woman he wanted more than he’d wanted anyone. Awakening Lois was going to be his supreme pleasure. In the meantime, they’d date until she asked for what she needed.

  “I’ll take you home now, Lois.”

  “Okay. Would you like to stay for dinner? Kennedy and Graham wouldn’t mind.”

  He hesitated, and her smile dimmed. In tune and sensitive. He really didn’t want to go back to the club and eat dinner there, alone. Or with Maurice. And dating could include dinner at her home. “I’d like that, Lois.”

  She didn’t enthuse or say much of anything, but she was pleased, and he felt it. He’d pleased her, and they hadn’t even fucked.

  * * * *

  Jon wasn’t used to socializing in suburbia. Graham greeted them at the door and aside from that infernal raised brow, didn’t refer to their brief conversation that night in the club. He led the way to a man cave and handed Jon a beer. No glass. The game was on, and they watched it and made desultory small talk. Jon had a hard time keeping his mind on the other man. He wondered where Lois was and what she was doing. He’d prefer it if she was sitting with him, at his feet actually. There was lots to think about because Lois probably wouldn’t want to live in the club. At least not forever. And he was getting ahead of himself again.

  “Daddy!” A little boy threw himself at Graham and Jon marked the similarities. The child bounced on his father’s lap and stared at Jon.

  “That’s Mr. Spence, Nathan. He’s Lois’s friend.”

  Jon could imagine Nathan in twenty years. The boy narrowed his silvery eyes and folded his little arms on a huff. “Wowis. Mine.”

  Holy shit. Was there a man alive who wasn’t in competition with him? Jon hid a smile and nodded gravely at Nathan. After a suspicious glare it was all smiles and enthusiasm again.

  “Is dinner ready?”

  At Nathan’s nod, Graham set him on his feet and patted his backside. Nathan led the way to a large formal dining room. Lois was there, fixing something on the table, and Nathan wrapped himself around her legs in a proprietary way. She immediately stopped what she was doing and knelt to hug the child to her, murmuring something in his ear. He smiled sunnily and let her lift him onto a booster seat. Kennedy came in with a platter, and Graham quickly relieved her of it. It might feel strange, but Jon didn’t hate the idea of this life, for sure. It reminded him of his own family, something he thought he didn’t miss. Except it couldn’t be exactly like this, and his gut wrenched in a surprising way. He shut it down, taking his place beside Lois, and the meal progressed.

  Kennedy and Graham communicated on a deep level. Nathan was precocious but manageable. The other three adults interacted with him flawlessly, and he could see Lois’s attachment to the child. His fork, piled with some amazing pasta, faltered on its path to his mouth, his gut wrenching again. She liked kids a lot. She was a nanny. She probably wanted kids of her own. Shit. He looked at her and found her watching him. In tune. Jon set the issue aside. He’d figure it out because it was his job.

  Nathan became grumpy before dessert. Lois made to remove him from the table but Kennedy forestalled her, winking at Jon.

  “Graham and I will get him bathed and off to bed, Lois. You spend some time with Jon. Nathan, kiss Lois good-night. Now.”

  It wasn’t pretty, but Nathan did as instructed, glowering at Jon before being towed off to the depths of the house. Lois laughed quietly and began to clear the table. Jon helped, carrying everything into a huge eat-in kitchen while she stacked the dishwasher and made coffee.

  “Nathan thinks you belong to him.”

  “Well, I do. Not that he’s competition!” She rolled her eyes and smiled.

  Jon knew differently, and she picked up on it, the mirth fading from her face.

  “Jonathon?”

  “It’s okay, little one. I’m gonna hit the road. I’ll call you in the morning, and we’ll figure out our next date. You’re a working girl, and I’m a Dom of leisure right now. I don’t suppose Kennedy would give you some time off?”

  “I haven’t had a vacation. And she’s not as tired or sick as she was in the first trimester. Maybe we could figure something out before she goes back to work for Patrick. I’ll ask her as soon as they get done with Nathan.”

  She walked him to the door, and he decided to up the ante just a little. Leaning down, enjoying the way her eyes widened, he drifted his lips over her cheek until he centered on her mouth. She softened and opened for him, and Jon tasted her, a mixture of coffee and Lois. He deepened the kiss and stole her breath, wrapping an arm around her waist when he felt her body sag. He broke the kiss and set her on her feet.

  “Good night, Lois. I’ll call you.” It killed him, but he was going to make her ask. He’d like it better if she begged.

  Chapter Seven

  She stared at the closed front door. Her Saracen kissed her breathless then walked out on her. She vibrated with lust. Huh. Should she have done something different?

  “Jon leave?” Graham’s voice made her jump.

  “He did.” She heard the snap of resentment in her voice.

  “He tells me you’re dating.”

  Was that surprise or derision in his voice? She stared at him, and Kennedy joined them.

  “Master Nathan gave up the ghost. He’s fast asleep, but not before he complained about Lois’s friend and threw his favorite stuffed toy. Are you two arguing?”

  “Jon and Lois are dating.”

  “I know. It’s great. We needed to do more of that instead of falling into bed like we did.”

  “Hey!” Graham protested.

  They both ignored him.

  Lois said, “I’d like some time off, Kennedy. Are you up to taking care of Nathan?”

  “I doubt anybody’s up to taking care of Nathan, Lois, like you do, but I’ll give it my best shot, and I won’t lock him in the closet. Even if he does act like his father!”

  “Hey!”

  “You get to know Jon, Lois, before you get into his Lifestyle. Build a good foundation. I notice you’ve cleaned up. I’m going to bed. See you in the morning.” She took her petite, pregnant little self off toward the master suite with G
raham hard on her heels, still protesting. Lois’s heart swelled. She loved those two. They and little Nathan were her family, and maybe Jon was going to be part of it, too.

  A tap on the door made her adrenalin surge, and for a moment she was scared. She cast a glance toward where Kennedy and Graham had gone, and made herself go and look through the peephole. Jonathon. She pulled the door open, and he stepped inside. The look he bent on her was electrifying.

  “Did you get any time off?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then get your purse and coat. Leave a note for the Alexanders. You’ll move in with me for your vacation.”

  Dating was over then. She obediently went and got her purse and coat, scribbled a note of explanation, affixing it to the fridge with a magnet. So much for Kennedy’s advice. She hesitated by Nathan’s door and saw that look on Jonathon’s face again. Didn’t he like children? Something to talk about, consider. It wasn’t too late for her to have a baby, and if she was getting ahead of herself, blame it on the pool of arousal she was drowning in. She slipped inside and pressed a kiss on the child’s cherubic face, slack now with slumber, all hint of defiance expunged.

  Jonathon ensured the security system was armed and shut the door securely behind them. A chapter in her life closed with it. The drive back to the club was conducted in silence yet alive with unspoken, crackling raw need. Maurice was on the door. She could see his unmistakable form silhouetted against the rectangle of light as a member entered the club. Jonathon said something under his breath and drove past, obviously electing to park in the lot rather than drop her off. That was interesting. He clearly didn’t trust Maurice. Well, no brainer. Maurice frightened her even as he drew her. Heights drew her, too, but she wasn’t stupid enough to stand too close to the edge of the Grand Canyon.

  Jon helped her down from the vehicle, letting her slide over the front of him to stand between his booted feet. She inhaled his spicy scent and let her hands linger on his biceps, rewarded with a heated look, visible even in the dim lighting of the lot.

  “C’mon, honey. You look tired.”

  Right. As if he was going to let her sleep. At least she hoped not. Maurice ignored Jonathon but nodded to her and gave her a surprisingly sweet smile. She politely smiled back and distinctly heard her Dom growl.

  Jonathon hustled her right through the club proper. There were a few people in what she called the lounge area, but nothing else seemed to be going on. A couple of member room doors were shut, however, and she speculated. Part of her was glad they didn’t run into Trevor. She wasn’t sure how she was going to react around him, and felt the most absurd urge to skulk. She felt disloyal somehow. They got back to Jon’s quarters, and he had the door open and her inside in the blink of an eye. And then he became the Dom. In control, no more haste.

  He leaned against the door and folded his massive arms across his massive chest. His eyes drifted lazily over her from head to toe. Warmth licked at her, and her body became weightless again.

  “Protocol.”

  She knew what that meant.

  She shrugged out of her coat and set it and her purse on the nearest chair. Her shoes were next, tucked tidily out of habit under the chair. Lois pushed her jeans down with some difficulty, stepping out of them before folding them and putting them on top of her coat. The silky top followed, and her nerve broke. She wanted to please Jonathon, but she looked nothing like that brunette. She looked boyish, and that was being kind.

  “Find your courage, honey.”

  Easy for him to say. He was perfect. Big, black, and beautiful. But he was waiting, and there was no sign of disapproval on his face, no judgment. He was sporting an enormous erection, and seeing as she was the only woman in the room, it must be for her. Lois dug deep and popped the front clasp on her bra and let it drop away from her body. She blushed. Her doctor hadn’t even seen her completely naked, just particular parts at a time.

  “Honey, I wondered where you blushed from, and it pleases me to see it.”

  She looked down at herself and saw what he meant. Her hands came up to cover her nipples, and he spoke again.

  “No. You don’t cover yourself from me.” Silken threat.

  Wow. Her privates gushed, and her nipples hardened. It was as if he owned her, and it felt right. And hot. She shimmied out of her panties and stood for his perusal.

  He gestured, and she stepped wide. She locked her knees against the trembling of her insides and drifted on want. Her sex ached and wept. Her breasts actually felt heavy on her torso.

  “Lovely.”

  He couldn’t be talking about her. She wasn’t even average. She looked at him, and his expression told it all. He wasn’t hiding from her, wasn’t acting the role of the inscrutable Dom. He scrutinized her with hot, hungry eyes, alight with admiration and desire. As he approached her the breath caught in her throat and her need escalated. His big hand lifted and traced down her neck, pausing at the pulse point, and she felt him to her core. A finger drifted between her breasts, feathering down to her navel.

  “Your skin is flawless, like ivory satin.”

  He stepped into her, fully clothed. He hadn’t even divested himself of his jacket. Lois relished being completely at his mercy and surrendered. He plucked her off her feet and carried her through the living area and into his bedroom. She hadn’t noticed anything about the other room, being so intent on Jonathon, but tried to focus on this one. His bed was enormous, a California King, and the dark brown comforter felt sumptuously cool against her heated flesh. She writhed in response, and his features came into stark relief as the skin over his cheekbones tightened and his lips thinned. He stripped with an economy of movement. His barrel chest came into view, and her hand lifted, fingers aching to trace every curve and delineated line. He smiled down at her, and the feral need in his eyes shot directly to her apex.

  “You haven’t had a medical, Lois, so it’s pure vanilla tonight.”

  She nodded and nodded again. She flushed again. She could feel her skin heating with it. “Please, Jonathon. I need you.”

  * * * *

  Okay. She asked. Finally. In fact, she was begging. He’d planned to wait, he really had. Planned to date until she asked him for more, but couldn’t manage it. Loss of his famed control. He had barely made it to his car when his body turned and strode right back to the door. If the neighbors saw him standing there, his forehead pressed against the unforgiving wooden panels, willing his hand not to knock, not to push the issue, they’d have called the cops. Big black guy loitering with intent in the ’burbs. After an eternity he rapped, she’d answered, and it was done. And Patrick would kick his ass, maybe right out of the fucking club.

  He shoved his jeans down, his cock springing from the stranglehold of denim. Lois’s breath caught audibly in her throat, and he had a moment’s concern. She was so slight, and he was big. But he’d fit. He’d be gentle, but he’d fit. She locked her gaze on his, and acceptance warred with desire. She already trusted him, and he tucked it away like a talisman. He lowered himself onto the mattress and set about learning her.

  She tasted of honey and musk with an overlay of freshness. It consumed him as he mapped the tender curve of her throat, the sharpness of each clavicle and the gentle rise of her breasts. They were small, perfectly formed, a mouthful, with tiny pink nipples. He marveled at their softness and the beaded tips, tracing the areolas with the barest touch of a finger. Lois whimpered and writhed. So fucking responsive. Her hands clenched on the bedding, and he craved her touch. But he didn’t dare. He wouldn’t last. He, Jon Spence, was fast losing his hard-learned control just being naked with this woman. How did she know not to touch him? Was she tutored? She understood protocol. He didn’t know how and didn’t care, at least not right now. He fastened his mouth over her heart breast, the one he favored, engulfing it before teasing the tip with his tongue, nipping gently.

  Lois shrieked and flailed. He easily held her still against his ministrations and switched to her other breast. Her
hair splayed across his pillow in strands of treacle, her eyes shut tightly as her head thrashed. He’d make her open those chocolate orbs when she came with him inside her. Her pussy pressed against his abdomen, slick and wet. He’d have her waxed for play, but the silk of her sopping curls tangled him, an oh-so-willing fly. Abandoning her breasts, he kissed his way down over her body, lingering on the concave dip of her belly, the slight rise to a jutting hip bone. Surely she could never grow a baby in this narrow pelvic girdle, although he could imagine her somehow, this soft, silken skin molded around a child, an infant. Her breasts would swell in preparation, and her nipples would be more sensitive. She’d look like a Madonna. And he couldn’t make it so. But he could pleasure her beyond imagination.

  He could smell her sweetness, that musk and honey personified. Her buttocks filled his hands as he lifted her to his mouth, her thighs falling apart in welcome, her folds separating. Pink with hints of crimson, swollen and juicy. He feasted, tracing every crevice with his tongue, sucking her clean only to have her make more of that incomparable taste. She moaned and whimpered louder, begging incoherently. His cock begged, too, so he drew her clit between his teeth and bit gently. Lois screamed her release, arching from the bed and very nearly lifting him with her. Fragile and strong, maybe tougher than him. It humbled a man.

  When she subsided, panting and trembling, flushed, her flawless skin coated with a sheen of damp, he dragged up her body, sliding along the velvet of her. Every inch was a marvel of touch. He fumbled a condom from the bedside table and sheathed himself, lifting awkwardly, his body mourning even that brief loss of her warmth. He rested his forearms beside her sweet face, and her sex-drunk eyes fluttered open. He saw his future there and kissed her in an effort to calm the kernel of warning flowering deep in his psyche. It wasn’t meant to be. He wasn’t enough for her. She kissed him back, opening to him, letting him plunder the recesses of her mouth the way he planned to plunder her pussy, and he ignored the warning. His cock blindly worked itself between her folds, sliding in the copious moisture, jerking against the heat. He reached to guide himself in, as Lois lay acquiescent, accepting, just as he preferred. He watched her face as he tried to push inside. Tight. Maybe he wouldn’t fit. Christ. She tensed, all former passion and desire subsiding. He pulled away and felt between her thighs, sliding a finger into her. She was wet but narrow, so fucking tight. Could it be?