Hooked (Decadence Nights Book 1) (3 page)

*****

As the first set ended, Livvy sat back thoroughly enjoying herself and the remains of her giant size strawberry margarita. With the band on break, the bone jarring decibel level had decreased to one more conducive to conversation, giving the women at her table an opportunity for introductions.

“Olivia, let me acquaint you with the owner’s girls,” Mara said as the bright stage lights dimmed. “Megan is with Cap,” she waved her hand, indicating the beautiful curvy blonde across from her, “and Regan, the extremely pregnant red head there, is her twin.”

The petite, small-boned woman, who looked decidedly uncomfortable, shifted in her chair as she rubbed her protruding belly. Livvy’s eyes shifted back and forth between the two women, deciding they looked nothing alike until Regan yelped and pressed her hand to her belly as the baby made its presence known. When she looked up, her eyes were the same stunning blue and she flashed a smile identical to her sister.

“She’s married to Master Rick,” Mara went on to explain. “Lexie, the sun-kissed brunette across from you is engaged to Master Jonas, and last but not least, the ageless, gorgeous blonde wonder on the end is Joanna. She’s married to Master Peter.” Each woman smiled warmly and nodded in turn. “Elena,” Mara continued, again waving a hand, this time toward the vacated stage, “is our resident rock star and belongs to Master Dex.”

“First timer?” Megan asked with a smile.

“Yeah, I drove two hours and almost didn’t get in. About a dozen girls behind me were turned away.”

“Poor girls,” Regan murmured as she shifted restlessly, “some of the newbies will never get up the nerve to return.”

“Where are you from, Olivia?” Joanna inquired.

“Call me Livvy, please. All my friends do. I’m from Austin.”

Mara refilled her drink from the pitcher. “Since you’re here on an open sub night, bedecked with a ribbon, it’s not a stretch what you’re looking for. We have a single Dom from Austin.”

Megan shook her head. “I don’t know. She looks too sweet for Master J.”

The name was familiar, the girl out front having the same negative reaction.

“That’s the second time I’ve heard his name mentioned in a not so positive light,” Livvy blurted out. “Is he a hulking brute or something?”

They all turned to Mara as if she had the answer.

“You’re asking me?” she replied with surprise. “How would I know?”

“You know him better than anyone else,” Megan prompted.

“I know him professionally, not as a submissive.”

“Tell us what you do know,” Regan prompted.

“All I know is the rumors from the sub grapevine that he’s a rather strict Dom and partial to the cane.” She paused for a moment, turning thoughtful while biting her lower lip. “Personally, I found him rather hard to get a handle on. Fortyish, handsome and extremely tall, taller than Lil T and Tony, even. He’s extremely intelligent, full of confidence, but not in an obnoxious way, and has a wonderfully vibrant infectious laugh. That he wraps it all up in a fuddy-duddy tweed suit, wire framed glasses and a bow tie on occasion is what throws me off. When Joseph represented me last year, I nicknamed him the swaggering nerd.” Her hand flew to her mouth. “I probably shouldn’t have mentioned that. He’s really not a nerd. More like... conservative, yes. That’s a good adjective for him, better yet, old-fashioned.”

Livvy stiffened, her stomach doing a flip flop.

No!
It can’t be
.

“What do you do for a living, Olivia?” Lexie asked. “Maybe you have something in common with Master Joseph. He’s an attorney.”

“Oh my god!” Livvy bolted out of her chair, knocking it over. “Are you by chance referring to Joseph Hooks?”

Mara stood too. “That’s him. Do you know him?”

“She’s gone white as a sheet,” Lexie remarked with concern. “Livvy, maybe you should sit back down.”

Mara ignored Lexie’s suggestion and pressed the newcomer for more information, although she wrapped a supportive hand around her arm as she did. “Do you know our Master Joseph?” she repeated.

“Know him!” Panic was obvious in her voice now. “I freakin’ work for the man. Merciful heavens! I’ve gotta go.” She whirled and started pushing her way through the crowd, her focus on the front doors.

“Olivia, wait,” Mara called after her.

She didn’t slow or look back, having only one goal in mind, getting out of the club unseen. When she pushed through the heavy double doors and entered the lobby, thunder rumbled long and loud. There was a man at the desk she hadn’t noticed on the way in. Dressed all in black, his snug t-shirt had a gold lettered emblem that said Rossi Security on the upper left side of his broad chest.

“It’s a gully washer out there, miss,” he cautioned. “You’ll need to wait until it slows.”

Disregarding his warning and refusing to be waylaid by weather, she started for her only means of escape. “I need to go. Now.” When she pulled the heavy doors open, she was assailed by wind and rain, the force of both ripping the handles from her grasp. Immediately, she moved to close them, struggling against the torrent’s sustained force when large male hands appeared next to her smaller ones and easily pushed the doors shut. “I’m sorry,” she gasped, leaning against the doors, already feeling the chill from the drenching as the A/C wafted over her wet skin. “I had no idea it was storming so badly.”

Livvy turned back to the security guard to further her apology. Only it wasn’t the guard whose hands curled around her upper arms. It wasn’t his black T-shirt clad chest that filled her vision either. Instead, she stared at a burgundy vest and a gray check tweed jacket. Following it upward, she encountered a perfectly knotted gray tie, a clean shaven, tightly clenched jaw, and full, sensuous lips set in a hard line. She stopped there, knowing who she’d find if she went further. Closing her eyes tightly, she prayed for the power of teleportation as her face burned.

“Olivia.”

His voice, usually a mellow tenor, rang sharp like a hammer forging steel.

“Look at me, little one.”

The endearment, one he’d used on occasion with her before, when her mother passed two years back and when he’d dropped by her apartment the time she’d had a debilitating case of the flu. The pet name, common to the lifestyle, hadn’t registered at the time. Now, it rang clear as he used it as a Dominant would with his errant submissive. She swallowed hard, feeling trapped.

“Now, Olivia.” The order was uncompromisingly compelling and she responded as though she had no will.

She looked up into his familiar green eyes. As they gazed intently down at her with more fire than she’d ever seen, she got dizzy. Maybe it was the alcohol or the stress of coming here all alone, or it could be low blood sugar because she’d skipped dinner, much too nervous to eat. No matter the cause, her world turned on end. Her rubbery knees gave way and she crumbled right into the arms of Joseph Hooks, senior partner at Hooks, Jeffers, and Mahoney, Attorneys-at-law, her boss, her fantasy Dom and the secret love of her life. Then Olivia did something she’d never done in her entire life; she fainted dead away.

From across the room, he watched her wake, her eyes blinking open and staring at the unfamiliar ceiling overhead. Suddenly, she winced, her hand coming to her forehead to rub away a headache, no doubt, as her delicate brows gathered together. Pink lips, usually soft and curved in a smile, were downturned as she grimaced and sat up in bed. She looked down at the expanse of the king-size bed, her hand flaring out and smoothing over what he knew to be mega-thread count, soft, sumptuous linens. Her head swung up and her eyes swept over the room. When she located him seated casually in a high-backed chair in the corner, her eyes flew wide and her cheeks, usually a lovely peaches and cream, flooded with crimson. She quickly looked away.

“Feeling better?” He tried to keep his tone neutral, free of the equal parts amusement and lust he was experiencing, but he wasn’t certain he accomplished the feat when her face contorted ever so slightly, then she politely lied.

“Fit as a fiddle, thank you. I should go.”

The echo of her words hadn’t faded when a loud crack of thunder made her start. It was followed immediately by a flash of lightning, electrifying the air in the room.

“Obviously, you’re not going anywhere tonight.” He stood and crossed to the bed. Using his full height to impart his authority, he stood close to the bedside, staring down at her, his arms crossed imposingly over his chest. “I asked a question and this time I would like a truthful response.”

She glanced up at him briefly, her eyes reaching no further than his chest, then darted away, moving down to her tightly clasped hands in her lap. “I have a bit of a headache is all, sir. Truly, I’m fine.”

“How many cocktails did you have this evening?” As he posed his question, he crossed to the bathroom.

“One, but it was very large,” was her faint reply as he found aspirin in the medicine cabinet and filled a glass with water from the tap. He strode to her bedside and held them out for her, palm up.

“Aspirin,” he explained succinctly. “Take them without any fuss, please, Olivia.”

When she swallowed them down with only a small sip, he ordered further, “Finish it.”

Not hesitating in obeying this time, she downed the entire contents. He set her empty glass on the nightstand, then sat on the edge of the bed, close alongside her, his thigh pressing fully against hers. Leaning forward, his fists settled into the soft mattress bracketing her hips, which brought his face very near hers. With him in her space, she had nowhere to go but flat on her back in the bed. Being vulnerable beneath him clearly not part of her plan, she scooted up in the bed until she could go no further. Her eyes darted about the room, once again looking for an escape, but his body had cut off all exit routes. She was caged and she knew it. With few options left except to face the music, she lifted her face, eyes boldly meeting his. Brave girl.

“It’s late, a flash flood warning is out and you’ve been drinking. That’s a dangerous combination, which you won’t be risking, not on my watch. We’ll be spending the night.”

She bristled. “Exactly when did it become your watch, sir?”

“The minute you walked into Club Decadence with your hair loose and gleaming like satin, wearing a dress meant to entice, in search of a Dom tonight. I am that Dom, Olivia. No other.”

He leaned forward, without touching her, forcing her back until she reclined fully on the pillows. Her hands came up to his chest reflexively. As he hovered over her, his upper body containing hers, his lips lowered as if drawn to her by an invisible force, a magnetism that he could no longer deny.

She whispered, “Don’t I get a say?”

“Certainly, you get to say yes.”

He took her mouth, her taste exploding on his tongue as it swept inside. She was as sweet and savory as he’d always guessed she’d be. Unable to resist her allure, his hand found the thickness of her hair as silky soft as he’d imagined, his other hand sliding beneath her back and holding her against him. He deepened the kiss, greedily plundering her mouth as the pirates of old did their treasure, continuing in that mode until she was whimpering softly in her throat.

Joseph lifted his head a mere fraction so that his lips brushed against hers as he spoke. “That was a sample, Olivia. Do you want more?”

“Yes, please.” Her husky, breathy and purely sensual response sent a jolt of need to his already rigid cock. Yet, he wanted to make his offer clear. “Say, “yes, please, Master, I want more,” and we have a verbal contract for the night.”

She hesitated, something flashing in the beautiful blue orbs before she agreed. “Yes, please, Master, I want much more. Please accept my submission.”

Forgetting her momentary uncertainty, his lips curved up in a slow smile. “It will be my absolute pleasure to take it, and you, pet.”

*****

The heat of Joseph’s mouth opening over hers was incredible, adding a scorching intensity to the kiss. His tongue swirled and stroked, robbing her of breath. As he trailed his lips down her throat, he tugged down the scooped neck of her dress and grazed along the plumped up mounds of her breasts. She arched her back offering him more, wanting with a desperate need to feel his lips on her aching nipples.

“Joseph... Sir,” she groaned, jerking at her wrists that he had bound together with the conveniently provided cuffs at the center of the headboard. Her fingers itched to touch him, to sink her fingers into his hair and at last feel its texture. But he was in charge and she wanted that too, to be under his command, obeying his dictates and pleasing him in whatever explicitly naughty and decadent manner he demanded.

“You taste every bit as sweet as I imagined you would,” he murmured roughly against her skin.

Then his lips were gone and he rose to his knees above her. He jerked off his tie and practically tore off his shirt. Standing beside the bed briefly, he stripped off the rest of his clothes. He was long and lean, and though he didn’t scream it with bulging thick muscles, he was strong, deceptively so and handled her with ease. Before she got a good look at what she had fantasized about for three long years, he flipped her onto her belly. His confident fingers found the zipper in the back of her dress and tugged it down. When the material parted, her skin was treated to the long lick of his searing hot tongue as it slid down her spine.

She expected him to peel the silk from her hips and down her legs, but he raised the hem until it rested high on her waist. The next moment her panties were peeled down her bottom until they came to rest at the top of her thighs. Pulling her up on her knees, he palmed her full cheeks, separating them. “Exquisite,” he groaned, the single word a rush of hot breath on her damp flesh. It was nothing compared to the sear of his tongue when he parted the halves and buried his face between them.

Olivia’s cries rent the air as he found her clit, circling it at length before licking higher and plunging into her dripping channel. Continuing to move inexorably upward, taking his time until he reached her small rear opening and gave it a wet glide with his talented tongue.

“You have an ass made for spanking, with your satiny smooth skin and creamy complexion. I bet it looks lovely with a blush of pink. Have you ever been spanked, Olivia?”

She answered between panted breaths. “Yes, Sir.”

“With more than a hand?” he asked as he began kneading her flesh slowly.

She moaned, her head bobbing up and down in answer.

“What about a paddle, a flogger, or a cane?”

“Yes to all except the cane, Sir.”

“Mm,” he hummed, as he gave her another long lick, the vibration making her back arch as she canted her hips and parted her thighs seeking more. “An underutilized and unappreciated implement to be sure. I’d like to see this ass colored with a few stripes.”

The thought of the cane snapping sharply against her bottom, leaving marks placed there by Joseph’s will and design, a tangible sign of his possession sent a rush of liquid heat between her thighs. Near mad with desire, she rocked back against his wickedly arousing mouth.

He chuckled softly, the sensation sending a shiver up her spine.

“Please, Sir.”

“That is my aim.”

His words coincided with the swat of his hand against the swell of her right cheek. It had been an eternity since she’d been spanked, for it to be happening again, at last, and made so by Joseph’s firm hand caused the muscles low in her belly to clench and her clit to pulse with need. A few more and she’d lose control.

A smack fell on her left cheek. She tossed her head back, flipping her hair out of her face, gasping for air as she tried not to come.

Three more, slightly harder, struck in quick succession on one side, followed by a trio of identical swats on the other.

“Joseph, Sir, I can’t wait.”

“You’re ready to come already, pet?”

Two upward strokes landed full on the bottommost curve of her cheek, the heel of his hand falling dangerously near her pussy lips. The rippling energy shot straight through to her clit.

“Yes, I can’t—” she gasped and swallowed as another upward stroke fell, “hold it back.”

A duo of identical upstrokes fell on the other side as he urged, “Don’t. I want to see you come apart as I spank your exquisite ass.” He laid into her then, not overly hard, but fast and low enough to catch her sit spots and upper thighs allowing the repeated blows to reverberate through her pussy and the inflamed, hair-trigger nerves inside. He followed that with one smack dead center on her wet lips.

She shuddered violently as her orgasm ripped through her. It went on and on as waves of bliss radiated outward, coursing up her belly to her painfully taut nipples and down her thighs to her toes, all of it emanating from the hand now focusing directly over her clit as he repeatedly smacked her wet, swollen and highly sensitized skin. Eventually, it was too much and she twisted, trying to get away, but his arm snaked around her waist holding her still. The relentless hand stopped though, replaced by gentle fingers gliding over and through her lips.

It wasn’t long until her need started to build again.

“Perfect,” he murmured as he moved into place behind her. She heard a wrapper crinkle an instant before he was driving into her deep, igniting her passion to a fever pitch once again. His fingers curved around her hips as he held her still for his possession. Pumping furiously, the sound of their skin smacking together echoed loudly throughout the bedroom. It was glorious.

Her second climax was followed quickly by the harsh cries of his first. The masculine sound of satisfaction washed over her, filling her with warmth that she could bring him such pleasure. His cock held its place for several bliss-filled seconds, sliding out a fraction only to return, gliding back up to the hilt, filling her once more. Damp with sweat, her hair clinging to her face, she listened to his rapid breathing behind her. Smiling in contentment, she reveled in the feel of him, still rigid inside her. Never had she come so hard or felt so utterly dominated before. At that moment, her infatuation and unrequited longing morphed into love. Heck, who was she kidding? It had been love for a very long time.

A nagging thought crept into her consciousness, what if he didn’t feel the same?

He pulled out and left the bed briefly. When he returned, Joseph climbed over her, rolling her limp form until she was spooned against him, her back to his chest. Her wrists pulled against her restraints slightly. As his hand rose and checked the tightness, her head tilted to watch.

“Too tight?”

“No, Sir, the slack is gone though. We must have slid down.”

Easily, he scooted her up with one arm, until her elbows bent and her arms rested comfortably on the pillow in front of her.

“Better?”

“Much. Thank you, Sir.”

“Good, because the night is young and I’m not nearly done with you yet.” To prove his point, he lifted her top leg, pulling her knee into her chest. With her splayed wide open, he entered her in one powerful thrust from behind.

*****

A car engine revving outside woke her. She frowned at the gray light coming through the unfamiliar curtains. Either the sun hadn’t risen yet, or the storm hadn’t abated. The man at her back stirred, his arm tightening reflexively around her as the warm hand holding her bare breast did the same. He was a snuggler—never would she have guessed. Replaying the glorious night with Joseph in her mind, she was pleased to have proven her hypothesis right that behind the staid business suit, conservative haircut and round rimmed Harry Potter glasses there was a voracious, passionate lover. That he also had boundless energy and stamina was an unexpected and very pleasant bonus.

She settled against him, shifting slightly beneath the covers. Muscles that hadn’t been used in a very long time, protested their soreness as she did so. Not her bottom, sadly, any residual heat from the spanking last night was already gone. The ache was deeper having settled in her thigh muscles and the ones in her groin, as well as the intimate tissues, which all tingled and ached in reminder of Joseph’s thorough and repeated possession.

She turned her head. He still slept. Without his glasses and with his dark hair tousled from sleep, he looked a decade younger, no more than thirty-five. At last, during the final time he’d taken her, she’d been free to run her fingers through its thickness, clinging to him as her fingers entwined in the hair at his nape while he’d brought her to climax yet again. After releasing her restraints, Joseph had rolled her to her back and with their limbs entwined had taken her in a very vanilla fashion—missionary; a time honored and always appreciated position—with long, measured strokes while he licked, kissed and suckled her breasts.