Club Shadowlands (12 page)
“I can smell your arousal,” he said.
90
Cherise Sinclair
Oh, God.
He chuckled. One hand around her waist, he strode through the crowd nonchalantly, as if he wasn’t walking with a woman whose hands were buckled together in front of her.
Reading about this stuff was sure a lot different than doing it.
“Where are we going?” Jessica asked, then grimaced. “Um. Am I allowed to talk?”
“Good question.” He stopped, pushing her long hair back behind her shoulders. So much for her attempt to hide her cleavage. “Normally a sub would ask permission before speaking. But I want you to ask questions, so…” He ran a finger over the top of her breasts.
“For tonight, you have permission to speak freely, unless I give you an order or until I take away that permission. Is that clear enough?”
“Yes, Sir.”
His approving smile had the butterflies in her stomach doing loop-de-loops. “As to your first question, I try to do the rounds every hour or so,” he said. “I like to keep an eye on the crowd, the activities. I don’t believe you’ve seen the entire club yet, have you?”
“No.” Jessica’s gaze winced away from a man strapped to a bondage chair. A woman in a metallic blue bustier and leggings was tying ropes around the man’s balls. Sweat poured down the man’s face and chest.
They’d reached the double doors on the back wall. The area she’d avoided last time. Sir led her down a wide hallway where long glass windows alternated with doors on each side.
Z stopped her at the first window. “This is the office.”
She wrinkled her nose in perplexity. Why would he have his office here? And why were people crowded around the window to the room? She edged forward to peek around a man’s shoulder. Oh.
The room had a desk, rolling leather chair, books on shelves, thick dark red carpeting.
Nice office. A man sat behind the desk writing while his secretary -- a woman with her hair in a bun, and wearing a tight skirt and white blouse -- was on her knees, sucking his cock.
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Jessica licked her lips, then whispered to Sir, “Guess it’s not your office, huh.”
He grinned, a white flash of teeth, then led her farther down the hall.
The next room appeared familiar, and Jessica jerked to a stop. “That’s a --”
“A gynecologist’s table, yes. This is the medical room.”
A man, bare from the waist down, was being assisted onto the exam table by another man in a doctor’s white coat. Jessica shivered, remembering the feel of a doctor’s hands down there in that private place. How could that man do that, knowing everyone could watch from the window?
Even worse, the next room had the window glass slid open. People leaned over the windowsill, watching avidly as a man dripped hot wax onto a woman strapped to a table.
Horrified, Jessica wrenched away from Sir, backed away. Torture. That was torture, plain and simple.
Master Z held his hands out to her, gaze steady. “Jessica.”
After a moment, she put her cuffed and chilled hands into his warm ones. He smiled faintly, pulled her into his arms, and held her firmly against his chest like a child.
“The lifestyle runs from a little bondage all the way to severe pain. I avoid subs who need pain like that, for I do not have a liking to dispense it. Can you trust me to know how much or how little pain you would find enjoyable?”
“No pain is enjoyable.” She buried her head in his shoulder. “That’s just wrong.”
“And after your bottom was paddled, how did it feel?” he whispered, running his hand over her bare ass, reminding her of how the pain had mingled with excitement, making her hotter.
She couldn’t answer.
He didn’t make her, though his gaze was too knowing. He knew how it had made her feel. Damn him and that mind-reading stuff.
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Cherise Sinclair
The next room, darkly medieval with chains dangling from a rock wall, contained only three people. A naked blonde lay face up on a roughly hewn bench, her arms and legs shackled to the floor. A woman slapped the blonde’s legs with a flogger while a man sucked on her breasts. Giving thin screams, the restrained woman arched her back, pushing her breasts up.
“The dungeon,” Master Z said. “It becomes more popular as the evening goes on, as does the playroom.”
The last room was huge. One round high bed, at least three times the size of a king, took up almost the entire room. Five people were in there, twisting and turning in various positions, all entangled together. One woman on her knees sucked on a cock while a man pounded into her from behind. Two men…
Jessica’s mouth dropped open as disbelief ran through her, then a thrill of excitement.
“How…unusual,” she said, her voice husky.
Standing behind her, Sir put his arms around her, one hand cupping her left breast. He kissed her neck, murmured, “Your heart just sped up. Something interest you here?”
“No. Uh-uh.” She tried to take a step away from the window, but he didn’t move.
Holding her with an unyielding arm around her waist, his other hand slipped between her legs and under her thong to the growing wetness there. He stroked her clit with his slickened fingers, over and over, until she squirmed uncontrollably.
“I grow tired of your prevarications, pet.” His voice had turned firm. “Answer me.”
She tried to close her legs, but his hand was there, spreading her pubic lips open. One finger slid into her, and she jerked as warmth shot through her body. He wouldn’t make her --
“I-I… Okay. It… I’ve never seen that.”
“There’s more,” he growled, obviously dissatisfied with her answer. The finger pushed deeper inside her.
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“Sir.” She sucked in a breath and gave up. “It’s exciting.”
“What part did you find exciting?”
“The woman with two men,” she whispered, her face flaming hot.
“Anything else?”
Her hips tilted into his hand as he kept up the slow stroking. “People watching.”
“Thank you for being honest, kitten.” He squeezed her in a brief hug. “I know this is hard to talk about for you. Although we’ve moved past the days when only the missionary position was acceptable, society still insists sex should be only one man and one woman in private. It’s hard to get past that mind-set, especially for someone as conservative as you.”
The matter-of-fact logic was steadying, his understanding of her personality even more so. Just then, the man in the room behind the woman shouted his release, and the woman came, her hips jerking frantically.
And Jessica could feel moisture trickle down her thigh.
“Mmm-hmm, I think you’re getting past your inhibitions nicely,” he said, amusement in his voice. He kissed her neck then released her, leaving her throbbing.
94
Cherise Sinclair
They went back to finish their drinks; then Sir ignored her protests and took her out onto the dance floor. The music was slow and romantic. She could do this, especially with Sir holding her warmly against him. He danced like everything else he did, competently with a firm lead.
“How did you get so good at everything?” she murmured, enjoying the soft music, the slow glide of his hand up and down her back. He’d unhooked her wrists, and she savored the feel of his hard shoulder muscles under her fingers.
“You haven’t seen me anywhere but here, pet. Your opinion might be a little overstated.”
Somehow she doubted that.
“What do you do when you’re not here?” He seemed too straightforward to be a lawyer or businessman. Maybe --
“I’m a psychologist.”
She jerked back, stared at him. “You?”
He burst out laughing. “That amount of amazement isn’t exactly flattering.”
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“But --” Well, heck, no wonder he read her like a book. “Then you don’t actually read minds?”
He pulled her back, nuzzling the hairs at her temple. “Within a short distance, I can actually read minds. Emotions, rather, and limited to what the person feels at that moment.”
His hands curled under her butt, pressing her against his cock, keeping her half-aroused with his attentions. “Since I work with young children, being able to know what they’re feeling is essential.”
Sir. Working with children. And she could actually see it; she’d never met anyone more comforting, more able to make a person feel safe.
Still… “I’d have figured some sort of sex therapy, considering…this.” She waved her hand at the room.
“Counseling children is my gift to the world.” He grinned, rubbed her against his erection until her legs felt weak. “This is what the world gives me.”
Her body moved into aching need at the feel of him against her mound, the feel of his hands cupping her butt. How did he do this to her?
“Um --” She’d forgotten the question she’d been about to ask.
“And you, Jessica? What do you do for a living?”
Question. He’d asked her a question. “I’m an accountant.”
His soft laugh ruffled her hair. “I should have known. You would be a perfect accountant.”
“What does that mean?” she asked. Her hands came down from around his neck. She pushed him away enough to frown into his face and move his tormenting hands away from her butt.
He grasped her wrists and put her hands back around his neck. “Leave your hands there, pet,” he ordered. And then he put his hands back, only this time he slid his hands under her skirt so he was touching her bottom.
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Cherise Sinclair
Her feet stopped.
“If you’re not dancing, my fingers can do this,” he whispered, moving one hand to her front, sliding between her legs, under her G-string. She jolted as his fingers explored her folds. “Dance or enjoy?”
She set her forehead against his chest, shivered as his fingers brushed over her clit.
“Dance, please.”
When his chuckle rumbled through his chest, she shivered again.
After returning his hand to her butt, he resumed dancing. “As for being an accountant, you’re extremely smart, logical, conservative, controlled. You like organization and facts.
And, at least when it comes to man/woman relationships, you are more comfortable with numbers.”
He didn’t even bother to ask her if he was right. He knew he was. “Pretty boring,” she muttered.
“Ah, but under all that control is a wealth of passion and a very soft heart,” he whispered into her ear. “Not boring at all.”
Okay… That was okay then. Satisfied, she snuggled closer into his arms.
She was just full of surprises, Zachary thought, enjoying the feel of her ass in his hands.
He wouldn’t have dreamed she’d have an exhibitionistic bone in her body, let alone an interest in ménage. He’d enjoy exploring those pursuits with her further.
An accountant. He smiled into her hair, no longer vanilla scented but lightly floral. No heavy perfumes for Jessica. A thought came to him, and he asked, “Do you own anything besides suits?”
She gave him a disgruntled look. “I have a couple of dresses.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Fine. Office attire. But I have jeans too.”
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“Now that I’d like to see.” That curvy ass would look fine in tight jeans. It certainly looked fine in the negligee. The V of the skirt offered flashes of her butt, something he doubted she realized.
The music ended, and the next song started, a fast one for the younger members.
Tucking an arm around her, he noticed again how nicely she fit against him.
Maybe she should have a sample of one of her new interests. “It’s a nice night out; let me show you the side yard.”
* * * * *
She bit her lip and glanced at Sir. This was just a tour, wasn’t it? She’d been anticipating a visit to that little bedroom again; surely they’d be going back there, wouldn’t they?
“Ah,” Sir said in a low voice. “I think you’ll like this spot.” He turned into a small area, not as secluded as some, she noticed uneasily. A tiny fountain on one side gurgled like a rocky stream, glimmering with a golden light. On the other side was a long, cushioned bench… No, she realized, a swing, hanging from the huge live oak behind it.
Master Z sat down on the swing. “I’d like you on my lap, pet.” And he grasped her around the waist and lifted. “Bend your knees,” he said and placed her on her knees, straddling his legs.
“Relax,” he murmured, waiting until she lowered her bottom onto his thighs. Smiling, he set the swing in motion then pulled her forward into a kiss.
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Cherise Sinclair
His mouth slanted over hers, his lips firm and demanding, and she felt herself start down that slide into arousal. When his hand cupped the back of her head, holding her in place for his kiss, her insides melted like hot butter. God, he could kiss.
She would have been happy kissing forever, but she felt his hand behind her neck. Her halter top dropped away, exposing her breasts.
“Hey!” She grabbed the fabric to hold against her. “There are people out here,” she whispered frantically. “Don’t do that.”
He sighed audibly. “Little sub, give me your wrist.” He held out one hand.
“Sir.” It sounded like a whine even to her. She closed her mouth against further protest and set her hand in his.
Without even looking, he snapped her wrist cuff to the wire of the swing behind his left shoulder, then did the same with her other wrist on his right. She pulled back, started to move her legs.
“No, kitten. If you move your legs, I’ll strap them down.”
She froze.
“Very nice. Just where I want you,” he murmured, cupping her breasts in his warm hands, his thumbs rubbing her nipples.
She could feel the growing dampness between her legs. With gentle hands, he lifted her slightly higher and took one nipple in his mouth. Her fingers curled around the back of the swing as he sucked. Sensation jolted through her. She tried to listen for people coming, but his mouth was so insistent, and when his teeth closed gently on the tip, she sucked in a breath at the exquisite pain-pleasure. Her pussy had started throbbing, and she barely refrained from rubbing herself on his leg.
