“Between my legs,” she whispers in that soft lilt that almost makes me come.
“On your cunt?” I stress the last word. If she likes it dirty, I’ll give it to her fucking dirty. I’m a little worried I may give this woman anything she desires.
“Yes,” she says. “On my cunt.”
I’m on my knees in the next breath, but I don’t give her what she asks for immediately. I kiss the inside of her thigh, follow that up with a soft nuzzle at the crease where leg meets pelvis, pressing the chain and its jewels into her flesh gently.
Her hips rock. I smell her arousal. Her fingers clench around her ankles, but she doesn’t attempt to move them from their posts. I blow against her swollen flesh, watch mesmerised as her back arches and moisture pools between her thighs.
I want to taste her. I want to drink her down and wash in her desire. I have never wanted anything quite so much.
The first stroke of my tongue is light, a feather kiss that promises so much more. She moans, moves her hands instinctively, making the chain dig into her flesh, which elicits a little gasp.
“Easy,” I murmured against her swollen folds. She tastes of honey; a nectar so sweet I already crave more.
My tongue circles her clit and she rocks against me. The movement makes the chain dig in, but she doesn’t stop. I tease her with long flicks, then mix it up with swirls and a flat stroke of my entire tongue up her centre, licking her out.
Her moan is music. Her gasps when the chain creases her flesh is a symphony to my ears.
I lick and stroke and then suck when she least expects it. My tongue delving in as deep as I can go, and then back out to flick lightly against her engorged clit. She wants more. She’s desperate for it. But she won’t speak again because she knows my earlier transgression will not be repeated. Not tonight. Maybe not ever.
Pets don’t speak, they scream.
Her orgasm is a thing of beauty. I thrust two fingers inside her tight pussy and flick them mercilessly against her G-spot making the orgasm become a tsunami. My teeth fasten on her clit and bite, sending her to another dimension she may not have had the pleasure before to find.
She’s panting and writhing and vocal in a way that I usually only ever allow them to be. And while she recovers I unwind the the chain, relishing the indentations of the tiny jewels dotted over her perfect skin, and let it pool beside her head on the desk.
I lean over her, still dressed in my dinner suit, her naked body a delicious invitation beneath my chest. I could take her. She would let me. But standards have to be set. Rules established. I let my lips brush hers in a barely there kiss of appreciation and then lift up and away, moving to my chair.
The whisky hides her taste. I immediately regret taking a sip, but I don’t place the drink on the table at my side. I hold it, as though nursing it, aware my hands are shaking slightly and my control is borderline.
“Dress,” I whisper, my voice too loud for the silence of the room. Moments ago Haydee was singing, and now the fire is all the sound I hear.
No, that’s not true. I hear the beat of my heart.
Seconds later, maybe minutes, I’m not sure, she appears at my side and sinks to the floor at my knee. Her face is tipped down, cheeks flushed, lips open as she breaths in my cologne. I’m so hard I can barely think.
My hand comes out and I run my fingers through her silky short dark hair. I want this woman to stay. I have to send her away.
“You did well,” I say, my voice back to normal volume. It fills the room up and threatens to break the glass in the windows. “Your answer?”
She looks up at me, confusion in her so expressive eyes. I like that. She says so much with just one simple look. Her head tilts to the side, that long graceful length of her neck on display again. I want to touch it. Then her eyes stray to my arousal and she tips her head back, exposing her throat.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” I say. She nods.
It takes everything in me to stand up from the chair. To move away from the compliant, submissive woman who has placed herself at my feet, in my care. But I need control. If I take her tonight, I will surely lose it.
And… I don’t want to lose Haydee.
“The chain is yours,” I say crossing to the door. I don’t look back. “There is a key to the front door on the hall table. I’ll expect you waiting here in my office tomorrow night at ten. Your position is the one we just trialled on the desk.”
Then I force myself to walk out of the room and down the hallway into the kitchen. A second glass of Scotch is already sitting there poured. I’ve never had to use it before this evening. By the time the velvet liquid has flowed down my throat she’s walking through the front door.
She didn’t even hesitate.
I hear the door click close and shut my eyes. My heart is thundering inside my chest. My cock is throbbing in my pants. I feel shaken to my very core.
I try not to, but I end up walking faster than strictly necessary, flicking my eyes over the hall table, but unable to see the key from the angle I’m at right now.
I move into my office and stand there for a full minute, staring at the desk.
The chain is gone.
I let out a breath. And then I’m smiling as I saunter back out into the hall.
The key is also missing, but in its place is something else.
My smile falls. This isn’t part of the game.
I reach forward and pick the small folded piece of card up. It’s exquisite, like her. And on it are two words that make my mind spin and my heart miss a beat, because no one has ever said them to me before.
Thank you.
There is no way I’m not keeping this woman.
Chapter 2
“Do we need to have another talk?”
I’m out of sorts. I know it. Haydee is coming tonight and I can think of little else. I can’t work. I can’t answer the phone. I can’t function. It’s been a long time since I was this close to losing control.
I need a distraction. I need to take back control. There are two ways to achieve it. I know this. They’ve worked for me in the past. I throw myself into work and not go home. Not see my pet.
Or I go to the club and drown myself in an indulgence. Test my resolve. Just a few hours should do it. Because already I know I will not miss Haydee’s visit. Already I know she is my drug, my indulgence, of choice.
It’s too soon. There’s too many ways this could go wrong. We haven’t even established a routine. But my mind craves her. My cock is hard for her. I’m losing my mind with the images of her on my desk. Wrapped up in my chain.
Will she wear it tonight?
Of course she will. They all do. But something tells me Haydee wearing my chain will be different. I’m not sure why, and I’m tempted to phone Jason and ask the thousand questions clattering for prominence inside my mind. Where did he find her? Where did she come from? Why does she choose this lifestyle?
I’ve never asked before. I’ve never been moved enough to consider asking. And even now, I know I will keep my silence, because silence is control. And I must have it.
I didn’t choose this lifestyle. It chose me. I didn’t wake up one day and decide dating was an inconvenience I couldn’t suffer. I didn’t give up on relationships or marriage or a partnership where the television becomes the central conduit of our lives.
It all gave up on me.
I turn away from my desk, suddenly unable to breathe. My eyes stare at nothing, but I know what it is I should be seeing. The road outside my office. Police cars coming and going from the station carpark. I don’t see it, because all I see is her.
Why now? Why Haydee? What has this woman got that has made my past come crashing back in uninvited?
My phone rings on the desk behind me. I ignore it.
Several seconds later there’s a soft knock at my door.
“Superintendent?” Christine asks, her mousy voice an irritant I can do without right now.
“What is it?” I say,
not turning around to face her. I can see the street now. At least Christine’s interruption has banished unwanted memories from my mind.
“A call from the assistant commissioner, sir. Shall I take a message?”
There are many people I can ignore should they phone me. But not Jason. Sometimes I wonder if he reads minds. How did he know to phone me right now?
“I’ll take it,” I say, turning back to my desk. “Line two?”
“Yes, sir,” she says, and ducks out of the room before I make eye contact. She’s new, and completely submissive. Strangely not once have I considered her as a pet.
“Jason,” I say into the hand-piece as I settle myself back into my chair.
“I thought I’d hear from you first thing,” he says in way of greeting. “I send such an exquisite package to your door and you don’t even thank me?”
My free hand fists on the blotter-pad on top of my desk. An unexpected rush of jealousy laden adrenaline fuels my system. How well does he know Haydee?
“Where did you find her?” I ask instead of the accusations that taunt me.
“She’s just returned home from overseas,” he says. “Ten years in London doing an extended OE.”
“And she just happened to walk into our world?”
“Oh, no. She came with references.”
I want to ask. I don’t want to know. Confusion is a foreign emotion for me.
“The Inferno?” I say, voice devoid of any emotion at all.
“She visited Sweet Hell and David Gordon found her. He had high hopes she’d agree to a session in the Irreverent Inferno, but she politely declined.”
“Politely declined?” Not many subs turned down an opportunity to enter an exclusive sex club.
“Something about David turned her off.” That wasn’t surprising. But still…
“And your connection to her?”
“I was there when she did it. I’m not sure what’s she after, you’ll have to discover that for yourself, but there was something about her poise that made me think of you. I approached her after David got distracted with someone else, and asked if she’d be interested in a more formal arrangement with an experienced Dom.”
“She obviously said yes,” I guess.
“She said she was open to an invitation.”
“I see.”
“I gather the invitation was accepted?” He’s fishing. He isn’t sure if she’s agreed to be my sub or not.
“I thought she might have been more experienced than that, you should have warned me,” I offer.
“She wasn’t suitable? I got the impression she’d be perfect for you. It’s been too long since you’ve had a regular pet.”
“No, she was lovely,” I counter. “But you know my requirements. Did you even warn the girl?”
“She seemed happy for a trial. I thought you could iron out the details together.”
“Jason,” I say in warning.
“No, Ethan. It’s time.”
“It’s never been time. And it never will be. Especially if you set me up like this.”
“It’s for your own good,” he presses, the words carefully spoken.
I turn my chair until I’m staring out the window at the clouds as they scuttle across the sky. Jason has never done anything like this before. He’s always approved of how I handle my pets. He’s never passed judgement or interfered. Often he refers someone to me. I’d thought Haydee had been vetted as had those prior to her.
“Are you seeing her again?” he asks.
“I’m not sure now.”
“But you’ve arranged for her to return?” he pushes. “Did she at least take the chain, Ethan?”
I sigh. He won’t have heard it. It is merely a bodily function that helps to calm. It’s not for effect.
“She took the chain,” I reply, not mentioning the card she left in place of the house key. That would confirm Jason has made a mistake. And even though I am angry with the outcome, I can’t seem to make myself confirm my disquiet with those words.
“Well, then. It seems you’ve got off to a promising start,” he remarks. “So, no harm, no foul.”
Oh, there’s harm been done. There is definitely a foul. And he knows it. But for now I hold my tongue.
“I have to go,” I say, getting ready to end this.
“She could be good for you, Ethan,” he has to add. As if I am incapable of finding my own happiness.
“And you’re so sure of this?”
“I know you,” he says. “I know you’ve not been happy with your usual pursuits. It’s time for a change.”
This is worrisome news. How many others in our world have picked up the clues to my unease? I had thought I had hidden it well. From everyone. Including me.
A sense of burgeoning agitation seeps into my frame. I shift in my seat. I flex my fingers. Stretch my neck.
“Will you stop by the club on the way home?” he asks.
“Yes,” I say, because not to go now is impossible. Jason thinks he can manipulate everyone. Place them where he needs them on his perpetually evolving chessboard. He is the King, I am a knight. And I fear he’s just set me up with his Queen.
There is something about Haydee that has caught my friend’s eye. If David Gordon’s initial reaction is anything to go by, she’s caught more than just Jason’s attention too. Gordon is not one for abstinence of any degree. But Jason thrives on it. I am not concerned about his intimate interest in Haydee, more concerned about his ulterior motives to this partnership he has devised.
Jason is planning something, and playing directly into his hands would give him too much power. For now, I must show only mild interest, while I work out what it is he is after.
As for Gordon. He needs to know Haydee was not all she had appeared to be.
It wouldn’t hurt to discover if any others had spotted her at Sweet Hell, as well. So a visit on the way home is now essential.
I end the call and move to my door, peering around the edge at my secretary.
“That’ll be all for today, Christine,” I say, making her jump an inch off her seat.
“Y…yes, sir,” she stammers, flushing delightfully when she notices my attention. I make her nervous. I make many people nervous. But Christine’s is sexually motivated. She’s attracted to me, and trying to hide it. It would be so easy to help her test her limits. To stretch her boundaries and give her pleasure through strict controls.
At any other time, I would be tempted. Even if she is my secretary. But the desire to train a new pet is all but gone. Haydee had performed brilliantly. Educated in our way of life or not, she had been a natural.
And it is that which those like me have already seen.
The urge to protect her rises. It is not unfamiliar. At my most basic, my need to protect is overwhelming. My need to protect Haydee from the Irreverent Inferno members is now paramount in my mind. The fact that Jason is already more than aware of her sits uneasily. But David Gordon’s interest just compounds my desire.
I shut my office door and move to my en-suite. Being Superintendent of South Auckland Police has its advantages. My secretary for one. And my own personal bathroom for another.
I keep a dinner suit and shirt here at all times, should the need to take a detour on the way home arise. It wouldn’t take long to drive to Redoubt Road, where my house sits, but once I cross that threshold I know I will have difficulty leaving again. All I really want is to see Haydee. But needs must.
I make my way to my car in the rear parking lot, passing a few officers I know by name and some I just know by look alone. None comment on my attire. I often attend functions after hours, seeing me in a dinner suit is not uncommon. The drive to the city centre takes more than an hour. Rush hour is officially over, but tell that to the southern motorway. It gives me time to contemplate my next move.
It is obvious to me that the complicated and twisted pathways of the lifestyle I lead is as much an attraction as the immediate rewards. But all I seem to be able to thin
k about at the moment are those rewards. I force myself to address the reason why I am going out of my way to show my face in a place I have quickly become dissatisfied with. How this will play out I don’t yet know. But still I pull my vehicle around the rear of the Sweet Hell building on Karangahape Road, and park it in the members only carpark by the Irreverent Inferno part of the business itself.
A Lexus, a Jaguar and Rolls Royce make up the vehicles already in attendance. It’s early for Sweet Hell, but that doesn’t stop the post work swing-by for the most debauched amongst us.
I recognise David Gordon’s Lexus. The other two cars belong to the owners themselves. There will be more inside the venue than is represented here. Only those who are Irreverent Inferno members have access to this carpark. But Sweet Hell boasts a much larger clientele than just that.
I lock the vehicle and cross to the rear door. Privacy is essential, and walking around to the front entrance would be ill advised. The door opens before I reach it, a security guard acknowledges me with a stiff nod of his head and indicates the book where I must sign in. It is housed in a locked box that only Inferno members know the combination to.
I enter the code and then sign my name. I don’t look back at the guard as the box closes and locks behind me, and I head through the internal doors towards Sweet Hell. There is no scheduled Irreverent Inferno scene set for tonight, so the chamber in which those are carried out in would be abandoned.
Not so with Sweet Hell.
The sound of low, sultry music hits me first, followed swiftly by the rattle of die and the sound of a croupier calling “Last bets!” Smoke fills the room, making for a heady combination of tobacco and rich spices. Someone is smoking a cigar over by the bar, but the scent I identify is not from the Cuban. Ice clinks in glasses, low murmurs fill up the empty spaces, the odd delicate laugh sounding out as a light accompaniment to the more bass sound of the gentlemen in attendance.
One sweep of my gaze and I know there is sixteen people in the room. Including two guards. Not a large turn out, but enough to send a message to Jason and anyone else who happens to care.
I move towards my favourite table, taking a seat beside David Gordon and someone I have not yet met. To David’s side sits one of only three females in the entire room. Their inferior numbers an essential part of Sweet Hell’s micro-balance. Too many, and the desire to pursue would be snuffed out. Too little and the competition would be performed by only a select few amongst us.
A Twist Of Heat (H.E.A.T. Book 2.5) Page 2
