Alexa: The Ties That Bind (Auction Night Book 1)

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Alexa: The Ties That Bind (Auction Night Book 1) Page 4

by Ellie Masters

His breath whispers across my skin, sending shockwaves down my spine. My nerves light up and I’m wet and needy within the span of a second. This is what he does to me.

  “Almost, Sir.”

  “You know how I feel about tardiness.” His vocal tones shift to a lower register and my insides knot with a throbbing need. I love when we play. I especially love his insatiable appetite.

  We’re alone. In his house. We can be the professor and his naughty school girl all night long.

  But we are running late.

  He wraps his hand around the back of my neck and his fingers brush across the soft tissues of my throat.

  “You know what happens to tardy girls.”

  Yes, I know. My ass is throbbing with his discipline.

  I gulp against his fingers. “Yes, Sir.”

  The words are barely a squeak as they leave my mouth and my fingers splay across my makeup counter. Breath surges in and out of my lungs and I gulp for air.

  He looks fucking hot in his black tux. I look amazing in the mirror wearing practically nothing.

  This is how our world should be all the time.

  Instead, we spend our days at the hospital in our surgical scrubs as he teaches the newest crop of budding surgeons how to save lives. He’s older than me, much older, but that’s one of the things which draws me to him. I respect the hell out of Daniel, both as a physician and as a man; a virile, dominant man who loves kink as much as I do.

  We’re perfectly matched.

  I like when he’s dressed and I’m not. It establishes expectations and defines the power shifting between us. I’m the most real Me when I bow to him.

  In my scrubs, I’m as cocky and arrogant as they come, constantly challenging the status quo as I compete with my fellow residents to shine the brightest. It’s my job to question and challenge my teachers.

  To challenge him.

  And I am very good at my job.

  Which is why I turn around and wrap my arms around his waist. I snuggle against his chest and breathe him in. He smells so damn good. It’s intoxicating.

  “But you don’t want to punish me, do you, Sir?”

  “Is that what you think?” There’s a smirk on his face and he palms my ass. His finger slides beneath the tiny thread of my g-string.

  I glance up at him and smile inwardly at the victory my touch brings. He’s as affected as I am. We do this to each other.

  It’s why we fuck a lot.

  My professor has the libido of a stallion and I’m at his service whenever he wants.

  Whenever.

  He.

  Wants.

  His cock twitches, elongating and thickening with his arousal and there’s that catch in his breath I love. He cups my ass and yanks me against him, grinding his erection against my belly.

  “Fuck it, Alexandria. We’re going to be so late.” He plants his hands on my shoulders and forces me to my knees.

  I don’t need to be told what to do. This is my place. I make quick work of his buckle and free his cock from his pants.

  There’s barely time to open my mouth before he jams himself between my lips. Carefully, I keep from scraping him with my teeth as he shoves himself deep into my mouth. With a groan of satisfaction, he knows he found my tonsils.

  I look up at him, blissfully at peace with his cock in my mouth, and swirl my tongue along the underside of his shaft.

  His eyes close and he grips my hair, destroying the fancy updo I spent half an hour on. Eyes blown black with lust, he lets himself go, draws back, then fucks my face with unrestrained urgency.

  I take him in and swallow him whole. I’m in my happy place and no longer worried about tonight.

  I’m scared he’ll walk away, but if I can’t have this all the time, we need to stop this thing we do. My heart can’t handle having only a piece of him.

  His body jerks with his release and I swallow his cum, licking him clean.

  Then I’m lifted off my knees and he spins me around to face the mirror. His hand reaches for my hair brush.

  “What’s the punishment for tardiness, baby girl?”

  My eyes pinch together because this is going to sting.

  “Ten, Sir.”

  “Bend over.”

  I do as commanded and grip the hard marble of the counter as the brush whistles through the air. It smacks against my ass and I can’t help but give a little screech.

  Tears flow. There won’t be any sitting in my immediate future tonight. But this is what I love.

  We’re late, but he never holds back on a punishment when it’s earned. It’s what I love about him and what I’ve come to trust. He is resolute in his position of authority over me.

  I brace against the pain, because he won’t be gentle with me. Ten strikes later and I’m a blubbering mess. My fancy updo is destroyed and my makeup is ruined.

  He places the brush down and I’m well aware he’s hard again.

  “Do you want to come, baby girl?” He’s already lining up to fuck me and he knows I’m a throbbing mess of need. He yanks at my g-string, ripping it from my body, and a whimper escapes me.

  I’m horribly turned on. I’m needy. And I’m incredibly wet.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  He doesn’t respond except to grab his dick and press the tip against my entrance.

  “Are you going to come for me?”

  “Yes please.” I’m not beyond begging.

  He thrusts inside, groaning as my wet heat sheathes his cock. He tells me there’s nothing in the world better than the feel of sinking into me. That rush of warmth is the feeling of coming home. Or at least that’s how he describes it when he fucks me.

  I know one thing that would feel better. But I don’t know if he’s willing to take that step with me.

  I moan as he slams forward and drags his cock out in a slow agonizing slide. The blowjob was fast. This is not.

  He slaps my ass and it’s exactly what I need to let go. I’m coming hard. My screams fill the bathroom. I’m vocal during sex.

  It’s not long before he follows me over the edge. Then he pulls out and grabs at a washcloth. Leaning over me, he wets it, then gently wipes between my legs.

  “Leave your hair long. Wear nothing under your dress, and fix your makeup. Be downstairs in ten-minutes, baby girl, or you’ll be writing lines for a week. Do you understand? We’re late.”

  I glance at him in the mirror and he returns my adoration with his stony countenance. The man is hard, unyielding, and he hurts me to keeps me happy. He loves me deeply. I see it in his eyes.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  I just don’t know if I’ll see it later tonight.

  I’m terrified I’m pushing too hard, that I’ll push him away. I shouldn’t do it, but something tells me this is what we need.

  We need it because it’s who we are.

  I need to prove to him this is what I want. If not, we won’t survive the night.

  He leaves me and I hastily redo my makeup and comb out my long, wavy hair. I’m not upset about the time I wasted on the updo. I was going to take it down later anyway.

  With two minutes to spare, I’m downstairs waiting by the door leading out to the garage. He checks his watch as he approaches and gives me a nod.

  “Good girl.”

  I bow my head in acquiescence. “Thank you, Sir.”

  He opens the door and swats my ass as I step through the doorway. We climb inside his Porsche before he raises the garage doors. Nobody knows I’m here. We’re that careful. And the windows are smoked. The neighbors have no idea he fucks me in his home, or that he does all the other filthy things I love.

  We’re that paranoid.

  That fucked.

  No one can know we date. No one can know we fuck.

  But I want that and so much more.

  Chapter 6

  We park in the underground parking deck and I wait patiently for Daniel to help me out of the low-sitting Porsche. He opens my door and extends a hand. The bolt of electricity
which zings up my arm is as strong today as the first time we met.

  We met here. The night before starting my residency I needed to blow off steam. I came as a guest and found myself struck speechless by the man in the crisp white Oxford and red bow tie.

  He came to talk to my friend, Katy.

  Our gazes collided and it wasn’t long before our lips were locked and our bodies entwined.

  He pushed my limits that night using his hand to turn my ass red and my throat raw from the screams he pulled from my willing body.

  Needless to say, the next morning proved interesting when all the new interns waited to meet the Chief of Surgery. We were so damn eager to shine and prove ourselves.

  I’m not sure whose eyes grew the widest, except from the back of the room where I stood my insides turned to jelly when our gazes met across the distance.

  The text I received to report to his office later that day came with a great deal of trepidation. I hadn’t just fucked the Chief of Surgery. I’d let him do things to me—kinky as fuck things—that would get him fired in a heartbeat.

  I knew a terrible secret which could destroy his career.

  I thought I was getting fired. Instead, I received a lecture as he told me what would and wouldn’t happen between us.

  His lecture turned me on. When he noticed me squirming, instead of reading me the riot act, I found myself shoved to my knees and his dick in my mouth.

  It was the first and only time he ever lost it at work.

  The Ties that Bind is our club. Our past. Our present. And what I hope will be our future.

  “You look ravishing,” he says and I can feel his hungry gaze licking my flesh. I sucked him off and he fucked me from behind, yet he’s still not satisfied. He rarely is.

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  I arch a brow, wondering if I will soon find myself draped over the hood of the Porsche while he takes his fill again. But he doesn’t.

  “Are you eager for this evening?” He takes me in hand and leads me to the elevator.

  I wobble on four-inch stilettos and manage not to turn an ankle. We arrive at the elevator and wait for the doors to open.

  The club takes up nearly a city block. It’s exclusive to the point of paranoia and no one who passes by the city-long block of brick and mortar has a clue what goes on inside.

  We enter through private entrances, either via the parking deck or a handful of doors guarded by our members at street level. We’re secretive and that makes us special. It makes the entire experience a heightened treat of the senses because we know we’re hiding our true natures from the inquisitive eyes of the common man.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Fully in our element, I’m free to submit to his will. This is where I thrive. It’s where I embrace all the things I exclude from my everyday life.

  I don’t have to be the strong, empowered woman who excels in a male-dominated career. I don’t have to fight for recognition for my surgical skills.

  All I need is to embrace my femininity and exist beneath his guiding light. I’m a fucking feminist and I’m here to say I choose to submit because fuck anyone who tries to tell me what I can and can’t do.

  “I hear the silent auction has several pieces of jewelry…” He’s trying to engage me in conversation and figure out what kind of treats he can spoil me with tonight.

  I don’t want baubles. I want him.

  But I play along.

  “And…”

  He brushes a lock of hair off my shoulder, exposing my tanned skin. Placing a kiss to the tip of my shoulder he glances up at me.

  “I was thinking about getting some studs.”

  I pull at my ear. I have no piercings. Earrings are not my thing.

  His low chuckle makes my stomach flip in the most delightful way.

  “For your tits, baby girl. I want to pierce your nipples.”

  He knows I have a thing about piercings. There’s a reason my ears are pristine. I hate needles. I know, that’s funny as shit considering I’m a surgeon who cuts people open for a living, but this is my body. My rules.

  Not if he collars you.

  That voice whispers in my head. What I want comes with consequences.

  Big.

  Huge.

  Life altering consequences.

  If I go through with this, I give up the right to decide anything about anything.

  Not that Daniel will ignore my thoughts or disregard my feelings. He’s a true dominant, devoted to the health and well-being of his submissive with a passion bordering on reverent insanity.

  It’s one of the reasons I feel safe in handing over complete control of my life to him. It’s also the reason I’m scared to death. Not all of those butterflies in my stomach are from a simple touch.

  “Hm,” he says with a chuckle, “cat got your tongue?”

  “If that’s what you want…”

  He grips my upper arms and positions me in front of him. “Is it what you want?”

  It’s an honest question and he delivers it with the same intensity he brings to every important decision.

  “You know how I feel about needles.”

  He can’t help but smile. Everyone in the hospital knows about my fear of needles. I can slice a human, muck around inside, and sew them up with the steadiest hand. But come at me with a needle and I scream like a little girl.

  Actually, that may be what Daniel first saw in me.

  He had a daddy fetish when he met me and I think seeing me having a fit, and talking me down, was the first time he noticed something different about me. We connected on a level which scared us both.

  We don’t do the Little thing. I couldn’t get into it, but we love playing professor and naughty schoolgirl.

  There’s nothing sexier than seeing him stare down at me with his arms crossed over a pressed white Oxford with a bow tie around his neck. Nothing except a crisp black tux that is. My professor is easily the sexiest man at this shindig.

  “I do, but that’s not what I’m asking,” he says, more serious than I want to admit. “If I want your nipples pierced, is that enough reason for you to want it as well?”

  I know what he’s asking and it excites me as much as it frightens me. I need him to push me. I need him to control me. His dominance is my aphrodisiac.

  But we’re talking a fucking needle.

  In my tit.

  My nipples actually.

  I rub at my boobs as the phantom pain brought about by even thinking about piercing my nips races through me.

  All the things he can do with those piercings makes it hard to stand still. I’m squirming in place, rubbing my thighs together against an insistent and needy ache. I want him to fuck me again.

  And it’s not like his desire trumps mine. What happens is much more profound. His becomes mine, because pleasing him fulfills an all-encompassing need within me.

  It may seem strange to say that considering what I plan, but it’s the truth.

  Or, one version of it.

  There are too many truths locked up in this thing we do.

  I bite my lower lip and meet his gaze. “If it pleases you, Sir, then I want it.”

  He hooks an arm around my waist and pulls me to him. “You know I’m hard again, don’t you, baby girl?”

  I reach down to cup his growing erection, but he grabs at my wrist and shakes his head.

  “Not without permission.”

  “But…”

  “Not without permission.”

  “Yes, Sir.” I say with a pout.

  With a clucking of his tongue, he warns me to behave. In general, I’m notorious for not behaving, but we don’t have time to fuck again.

  I give a little whimper as the doors to the elevator finally open. We step inside and ride up one floor to the main lobby.

  He grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze. “Later, my love. I plan on fucking every hole on your body before the evening’s done, but we must be patient.”

  He knows exactly what I’m thin
king and how to push my buttons.

  Wait a second! Every hole?

  There’s one hole I’ve never given him. Not that he doesn’t make that promise to me every time we’re at the club. He’s a hopeful bastard.

  You will if he makes the bid.

  That voice in my head is annoying as fuck because it’s snarky as shit and one-hundred percent correct.

  It may be surprising, but I’m an anal virgin. Like piercings, I have fears about getting fucked in the ass.

  I’m told it can be good, but all I think about is the mess it makes.

  I tend to overthink.

  The elevator opens to an opulent space. Crystal chandeliers glitter overhead. Rich mahogany wood lines the walls and baffles the sound of the crowd. There are easily over five-hundred couples in the massive space for the meet and greet.

  An excited buzz fills the space. I feel it on my skin, an energy wrapping around me and I breathe it all in, trying to absorb everything at once.

  This is what I live for and we don’t get to the club as often as I’d like. Our schedules are crazy insane.

  We’re not as late as I think.

  At any other charity event of this magnitude, there would be an open bar. There’s alcohol here, but it’s far and few between. Our membership rules don’t allow mixing alcohol with play and tonight is a night of festivity for the club.

  Out here, everyone is dressed in elegant evening attire. The dress code is strict, black tie for the men and evening gowns for the women.

  Lining the periphery of the room are a series of tables with the silent auction items the membership at large will bid on. There’s a wide variety of items put up for sale. I’m not interested in any of them, but I dutifully follow Daniel as he works his way around the room.

  We stop to get the bidding app installed on his phone at the welcome desk. Then we’re circulating with the membership and checking out what’s been put up for bidding.

  There are several weekend vacation getaways. Things I would love. But we can’t be seen as a couple in public. Who knows what picture might get taken and posted for the hospital administration to discover on social media.

  Not that they care.

  But the risk is too great.

  I linger over these, because who doesn’t want to go to Cancun and bask on the golden beaches? There’s even a ski weekend we can use when winter rolls around. Cold weather means all the sexy bits are covered. Cover the sexy bits and we’re less likely to get caught doing the deed someplace we shouldn’t.

 

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