“Then maybe you being incredibly foolish by lying to Aryas about your experience was a stroke of good luck.”
He hadn’t realized his own body had gotten tight, as well as his grip on her, until he relaxed both at her words.
“But only because it was me who claimed you that night and that’s only because I’m exceptional at what I do,” she finished snobbishly.
Olly fought a grin. “That’s part right, part bullshit, baby. Always, in anything, it takes two to tango and you tailed me tonight so I’m gettin’ that you’re exceptional, fuck yeah,” he said the last two words lower, rougher, pulling her closer. “I get that totally because I’m the one who gets that good. But you get it good, too, and you let me know that which was part of what I needed.”
Even though she was melting, she still held on to her pissy, declaring, “For a rookie, you’ve got excellent instincts.”
Olly shoved his face in her neck, murmuring, “Latent talents an exceptional Mistress had the chops to pull out of me.”
“Indeed,” she muttered.
“You done bein’ pissed?” he asked.
“There’s no going back. You’re correct, all’s well that ends well. It gives me the shivers to think of what you’d encounter if you’d found someone other than me, but you didn’t.”
She drew in breath but she wasn’t done.
“And it’s important to note that even if we’d discussed all of this in the beginning, any good Mistress, this goes without saying including me, would have sensed what you needed through that discussion, as well as while working you, and given it to you while they played with you.”
He pulled his face out of her neck and looked to her.
“It had to be you,” he whispered.
Her tawny eyes warmed so much Olly felt their heat on his face as she moved closer, smoothed a hand over his cheek and cupped his jaw.
“I love that you think that,” she replied softly. “And I think you know what you did was reckless. I actually think you knew it at the time. But it’s done. I just need to know two things. The first, trust goes both ways and I have to trust you’re always honest with me.”
He had more to give her but he hadn’t lied about it. It was just that it wasn’t until Sunday that she’d get it.
“Other than that, I’ve always been honest with you, baby.”
She nodded, thankfully letting that go without busting his balls or digging into it for the next seven hours so he regretted giving it to her in the first place.
Said a lot about her. A lot he liked.
Then she asked, “Is that shit still jacking your head, Olly?”
“Fucked, but truth of it is, bent over a table, ass strapped open, on display, my Mistress throws down for me after a woman I don’t know but know I detest says she’s gonna fuck me raw, that shit didn’t break in me. After enduring it forever, watching you do that, it just…” he paused, unable to fully explain it so he used the only word that came close, “disappeared.”
Relief infused her features, she totally melted into him as she stroked his cheek with her thumb.
“This makes me happy, darling.”
“Not as happy as me, Leigh-Leigh.”
“I’ll bet,” she whispered.
“Now, we done?”
She kept stroking his cheek as she nodded.
Fuck, that was a helluva lot easier than he thought it would be.
Then again, this was Leigh.
“Good,” he muttered.
And it sucked but he had one more thing to get into before they got past this and he wanted this in their rearview so he didn’t delay.
“Fooled Weathers during my interview, Leigh,” he noted.
She studied him a beat before she gave him the knowledge that she caught his meaning.
“You’re worried Delia did the same.”
“Yep,” he replied.
She gave him a small grin and shifted a hint closer. “Although I do believe you might have partially got one past Aryas, I’ll also note that you did the same with me. However, Aryas had his reservations in accepting Delia’s membership and this is why she’s watched. As for you, he had no reservations and he told me quite plainly he was keen to have you at the Honey, having you there for me.”
She said this to assuage his concerns but Olly did not like it one fucking bit, seeing as Weathers doing that, especially with Olly’s size, and strength, if he was another kind of guy, it might have put his Leigh in jeopardy.
On this thought, his brows drawing together, he said low, “I got the impression I wasn’t pulling one over on him but he approved me anyway, and you’re sayin’ he did this just to give me to you?”
“There aren’t many who could pull one over on Ary,” she replied airily. “Or any of us, really. This why what happened to Evangeline so rocked all of us.”
“That put you out there, Leigh,” Olly pointed out.
“I do believe we both can agree it didn’t,” she said softly, still stroking his cheek with her thumb.
And fuck him, she was right.
But that didn’t mean they were done with this topic of conversation.
“That might be true, but this doesn’t make me feel better about the current situation at the club, Leigh-Leigh,” he told her.
“You had references,” she stated.
“Yeah, and they all lied,” he reminded her.
She nodded smartly, not appearing like this bothered her at all. “What I mean to say is, at least one of your references must have convinced him, perhaps not of your experience, but of your character.”
Barclay.
“My bud who owns the Bolt is a decent guy,” he murmured.
“And Aryas knows the scene and most of the players. He’d definitely know the owners of the Bolt. If this bud of yours,” she said that last with her lips twitching, “spoke for you, and Ary respects him, that was all he needed.”
At least that made sense.
And it made him feel better.
Which meant this conversation could be over.
Thankfully.
Snaking a hand up her back into her hair, he pulled her mouth down to his and he kissed her.
Then he rolled her in the bed.
And after that, Olly took his time, and so did she, memorizing every curve and swell of her beautiful body while he made love to his Leigh.
Including fucking her against the door, vanilla sex was never as good for Olivier.
Then again, maybe it was just that, in their present moment, whatever that moment was, it was always the best when it was with Leigh.
And after she came back to him once she’d cleaned up, both of them naked, he fell asleep for the first time with Leigh tucked into his front, a cat curled at the small of his back, another one he could feel curled on the pillow behind his head.
Stasia melted early.
Olly wasn’t surprised.
She was Leigh’s.
sixteen
Dream Come True
AMÉLIE
Amélie’s eyes opened when the arm curled around her belly tightened and a deep, drowsy voice sounded at the back of her hair.
“There’s a cat that needs feeding and there’s a beast that needs to be worked, baby.”
After that, Olly pressed his hard cock to her ass.
She felt her eyelids drift down, enjoying the hardness at the curve of her ass, but more, the contentedness she felt finally waking up with Olly (after she’d finally slept with Olly), not to mention all that had happened last night and anticipating what would happen that day.
Then she turned in his arm.
She took another moment to revel in Olly, snuggling in to his big, warm body, nuzzling then kissing his throat as she snaked her arm around his waist.
“I’ll go feed the cats,” she said there.
“Good call, but if you tell me where their stuff is, I’ll—”
She tipped her head back and when she did, Olivier interrupted himself to dip his chin dow
n to catch her eyes.
“No, Olivier. You’ll have ten minutes to prepare for me. Today, all day, you serve me.”
She saw the banked fire stoke in his eyes, felt his arm tense around her and she pressed closer.
“All day, Olivier. Do you think you can handle that?”
“Try me,” he challenged.
Oh, she was going to.
She grinned slightly.
Then she ordered, “When I get back, I want you in this bed on your back, head to the pillows. And I want three towels down on the bed under your hips.”
“You got it, Mistress.”
She liked he was ready for play.
But she was not done.
“And I want your knees up, legs spread, hands at your inner thighs, keeping them open for me. No harness.”
The fire in his eyes blazed and the drowsy was gone from his voice, but not the gruff, when he replied, “Yes, Mistress.”
“Right.” She touched her lips to his. “Prepare for me, chevalier.”
Without hesitation, Olivier rolled one way.
Amélie rolled the other.
She pulled on her robe, went to the guest bath, brushed her teeth, opening one of the new toothbrushes she kept there for use of guests who might have forgotten to bring one to do it. She then splashed water on her face. After that, Amélie went to the kitchen, fed her cats, and made coffee.
She was hips to the counter, sipping said coffee, thinking it’d probably been over fifteen minutes since she’d left him so she contained a now-grouchy in the laundry room Cleopatra before she grabbed the bowl she needed and went back.
But she also retrieved his tail before she entered her room.
He was in position and more than ready for her, his big cock hard and lying on his stomach, his blue eyes going immediately to his tail.
Not saying a word, Amélie approached the bed, swung the tail out and set it at the side, doing this before she skirted the bed and went to the bathroom to prepare.
She came back with the big fluted glass bowl filled with warm water, as well as shaving cream, a razor, and several hand towels, one of which she’d wet with hot water and wrung out.
“Mistress,” he grunted.
He knew what was coming.
Her rookie with the good instincts.
He wanted to be thrown in the deep end?
She’d help him surf that killer wave.
“Stay in position, mon chou, you’ll want to remain steady,” she ordered as she sat on the side of the bed, not hesitating a second to place the hot towel where she needed it. She then looked to his eyes and got a hint of that wild she was growing to love, with it coming the delicious understanding she’d never quite tame her sweet beast. “We won’t want any accidents while I shave you.”
“Amélie.”
She said nothing, just held his gaze steady.
“Fuck,” he whispered his surrender.
“You’re beautiful, beast. As you are. We’ll see how I prefer it when that pretty cock is entirely exposed to me.”
He dug his head in the pillow and muttered again, “Fuck.”
Fighting a contented grin, she set the bowl on the bed, the towels and razor down, and she filled her palm with shave cream.
She gave the towel a few more moments to do its work before she pulled it away.
She lathered him.
At this touch, his hands automatically clenched at his thighs, drawing his ass up, pressing his legs wider.
Her clit pulsed.
Lovely.
“Yes, Olivier, I like that position better. Retain it,” she commanded.
“Christ,” he groaned.
She picked up the razor, swished it in the warm water, and went to work.
She was wet before the first stroke.
On her last, she felt herself dripping as his body shuddered, his balls heavy, his cock red and distended, his noises choked back.
Amélie threw the razor in the bowl and took a towel, wiping away any residue.
“Pretty,” she whispered.
And he was.
She liked him like this and she’d have him this way often.
But so she could groom him, he’d also need to grow it back.
She looked from his pretty dick to his clenched jaw, which was all she could see, his head pushed back, his throat moving with a swallow.
And she felt more wet gather between her legs.
She could have no idea if he liked how he now looked, but it was clear he’d enjoyed being shaved.
She ran a lazy finger on the smooth skin, then around his balls and down to his hole, where she touched it to his rim.
His legs trembled and he pressed in, forcing the tip of her finger inside.
She liked that so she bent over him and ran her tongue along his sac between his testicles and up the underside of his cock.
“Baby.”
She straightened away, pulling her finger from his ass. “You’re taking your tail now, Olivier.”
He lifted his head to look at her.
Wild gone.
Nothing but need.
My.
There was simply no way to express how delighted she was Olivier so liked his tail.
“Yes, Mistress,” he pushed out.
“Stay in position.”
“Yes, Mistress,” he gritted, impatient to be filled.
She gave him a smile, reached to the tail, shifted the other way to reach to her nightstand, and she grabbed what she needed.
She prepared the plug, tossed the tube aside, and looked to Olivier.
“You’ll take it all at once?”
“Yes,” he bit out.
She tilted her head. “Rough?”
“Whatever way you want to give it to me, Mistress.”
She straightened her head.
“Please,” he forced out.
Amélie knew precisely how she wanted to give it to him.
So she positioned it and in one smooth stroke, drove it home.
Her inner thighs quivered watching his hands at his thighs jerk his entire bottom half up as he dug his head in the pillows.
Even better than expected.
She gave herself a long, lovely moment to enjoy the scrumptious view before her in her bed before Amélie retrieved the remote control and set the toy to vibrate, medium low.
“Turn, Olivier, offer your tail to me. On your knees. Cheek in the pillows. Arms out.”
He didn’t hesitate.
Amélie didn’t either.
She moved from the bed and pulled the hidden sashes out from under the headboard, lifting them up. She bound one lash of silk around his wrist, holding his arm firm and wide, then she moved around the bed and lashed the other.
After that, she took the bowl, the towels, and the razor to the bathroom and she tidied.
Done, she went back to the bed, stroked his ass, and leaned in close.
“You’ll remain this way for me for some time, Olivier. I’ll be back to play.”
His cheek in the pillow, she saw his eyes widen and cut to her. “Baby—”
“If I come back and see you’ve moved, this will annoy me.”
“Mistress.”
She twitched his tail. “Be good.”
And then she walked out, setting the vibrations from medium low to medium.
So she smiled when she exited the room as she heard his groan.
* * *
Twenty minutes later, she hit the remote to a setting she had not yet used two steps before she entered her bedroom.
She heard his, “What the fuck?”
But what she saw was her custom-ordered tail that she’d had made on a rush (and at great expense) was a thing of beauty.
On its own, Olivier’s tail was twitching.
“Amélie,” he grunted.
“Yes, Olivier?” she asked, entering the bed from behind.
“Baby, give me something.”
“All right,” she answered agreeably, and she reached b
etween his legs, grasped his cock in a tight fist, and ordered, “Perform for me.”
“Thank fuck,” he grunted as he jacked her fist, his ass moving through the air, and she bit her lip. Enjoying the show tremendously, she reached with her other hand to part her robe. Honing in on her target, she lazily circled her clit.
Oh yes.
Much better.
“Stop,” she commanded, her voice husky.
“No, baby.”
She gave him a hard tug.
“Stop,” she snapped.
He stopped.
He was breathing heavily.
She turned his vibrations up.
“Mistress, fuckin’ fuck,” he growled.
“Perform,” she ordered.
He thrust into her fist.
She gave him that until she felt his excitement ramp.
“Stop.”
He came to a juddering stop, now puffing out air.
“Whatever you want, whatever you want, Amélie. Just let me come,” he pleaded.
“Perform.”
“Fuck yeah,” he gritted and pumped her hand.
She gave him time, took him higher.
Then she ordered, “Stop.”
“Fuckin’ fuck me,” he groaned as he stopped.
She pulled her finger from her clit, her hand from his cock, and heard his, “No, baby, please.”
She stopped his tail twitching and lowered the vibrations.
“Mistress—”
“On your belly.”
“Christ, Amélie.”
She cracked a hand against his right flank. “Now.”
He slid off his knees on an incensed growl.
She liked that sound but she didn’t revel in it.
She pulled one of her beast’s long, heavy legs wide and lashed it that way with another silk sash that was attached to the bed but hidden under it, tugging it tight at his ankle.