Carrie, Gavin and Leslie looked at Krissy and DeVon. The matching smiles on their faces confirmed everything I was saying. Leslie squealed again as we all moved to hug our friends.
Babies and marriages and new jobs. It seemed like my little group of friends and I were all moving toward new chapters in our lives, and I was more than ready to see what the future held.
Chapter 2
Dena
Krissy and DeVon had left nearly half an hour ago. They were leaving in the morning so they could stop over in Chicago to tell Krissy's family the good news. Leslie had been on the prowl for a while, but seemed to be setting her sights on one dark-haired man who seemed to be thoroughly enjoying her attention. Carrie and Gavin were dancing somewhere, although he did occasionally have to stop to deal with business. She didn't seem to mind though. She seemed more at home here than she ever had at Webster & Steinberg.
Swaying on the dance floor, I contemplated my own prospects for the night. I hadn't spent time and money on the sexy little black number I was currently wearing just to hang out and watch my friends. With my petite build, I had to be careful I didn't pick things that made me look twelve, and I'd chosen this dress specifically because it didn't. Matched with a pair of four inch heels, I knew I looked good. Now I just had to find someone worth the effort that had gone into looking like this.
I'd already declined several offers when a sleek, chiseled guy approached me, his hands coming out to grasp my hips sure and confident. The way he moved would've given me high hopes if I hadn't already done this song and dance a hundred times before. At least it felt that way.
Lazily, I spun around on the floor, putting my back to his chest, enjoying the feel of his body moving against mine. It was a trick of mine, a way to gauge if I wanted to do anything more than share a dance with him. If he got all grabby then and there, then it would end here. There was a fine line between sensual and out-and-out groping.
He dipped his head and skimmed his lips along my bare shoulder.
I felt disconnected.
That didn’t bode well.
His palm stroked up my side and I caught his wrist. Too bad.
“A little shy?” he murmured in my ear, just loud enough to be heard over the music.
“I prefer to think of myself as selective.”
He chuckled, and I felt a warm puff of air against my ear. It didn't feel erotic. The gut instinct I relied on as both an attorney and a New Yorker told me this wasn't the right guy.
Still, I kept my movements easy as I swiveled around to look at him. I needed to see how he'd take me not melting in his arms.
He gave me a slow, sage nod as if his approval was somehow necessary. “I like that. Picky. You just need the right man to take you. Make you obedient. Break you until you're the perfect little submissive slave.”
Was he serious? Any lust I'd been feeling vanished. Lip curling, I came to a stop in the middle of the dance floor.
“Break me?” I said. At that exact moment, the music fell into one of those odd lulls – the DJ switching to a different song, or an electrical issue – and those two words hung in the air.
I didn’t normally care to be the center of attention unless I was addressing the court, but at that moment, I was too pissed off to care. As he took a step toward me, still smiling that smug smile, I let my disdain show through. The music started again, but the attention was still on me.
“Break me?” I said again. I hated men like this, the ones who gave the entire lifestyle a bad name. “Is that what you think this is about? Either you’re new, or you never had a decent teacher, so let me give you some advice. Being a Dom has nothing to do with breaking anybody. Submission is all about willingly giving up control to someone you trust. Not someone who broke you.”
His face bled to an ugly shade of red and he took another step toward me.
Suddenly, a large body stepped between me and the idiot. A glance up told me that it was one of the regulars, a Dom who was easily six and a half feet tall and built like a brick wall.
“I think you need to leave the lady alone,” he said, towering over the much smaller man.
The wannabe Dom gave me a scathing look around the man between us before storming off. For a few seconds, the tension held, but then it was gone and everyone went back to what they'd been doing.
I thanked the man who helped me and smiled as I watched him walk away. A tall, muscular man was waiting and the two shared a sweet embrace that made something in my chest ache. It seemed like everyone but me could find what they needed.
***
Twenty minutes and a glass and a half of wine later, Gavin found me brooding at the bar. “I showed that asshole to the door.”
“Ugh,” I groaned. “You didn't need to kick him out for me.” Picking up my glass of wine, I swirled it around before meeting his gaze.
“It wasn't just for you. It was for everyone here. And for me.”
Gavin leaned back against the bar, resting on his elbows. Not for the first time, I thought of how lucky Carrie was to have found him.
He continued, “Apparently, he was here on a guest VIP pass, trying the package out. After you shut him down, he came stomping up to me and got in my face, wanting to know why the subs weren't better trained.” Amusement danced in his deep blue eyes. “Dena, why aren’t you better trained?”
I chuckled, and then asked, “Was Carrie around when he asked that?”
“Yeah, she was.” He grinned at me.
I burst out laughing, my melancholy mood gone. He leaned over and kissed my cheek. “I thought that would make you smile.”
Someone called his name and he headed off, but I wasn't left alone long. When somebody settled down next to me, I glanced over, a dismissal already forming on my lips. I’d already decided I wasn’t up to messing around tonight.
But then I met a pair of soft blue eyes and something stayed my tongue.
“Hello.”
The man's gaze fell away for a brief moment, and then he looked at me and smiled.
“I enjoyed your show on the dance floor.”
“That wasn't meant to be a show.” I gave him a wry smile before taking another sip of wine.
“I figured as much.” He quickly brushed his fingers across the back of my hand before pulling away, his eyes dropping for another moment. “Are you looking for company tonight?”
I took my time deliberating the question. This guy wasn't exactly what I'd been planning on, but no one had been lately. Besides, he looked like he might be fun.
***
Private rooms at Club Privé were nothing short of amazing to begin with. As a VIP member and one of Carrie's best friends, I had access to the best of the best.
In this case, it involved a room where I could stretch myself out on a king-size bed, while the sub who'd approached me knelt between my thighs and went to work on me like there was nothing else he would rather do than lick me straight into orgasm.
And he was damn good at it too.
After he'd brought me to a second climax, he paused, his cheek on my thigh as his breath came in rough, ragged gasps. I propped myself up on my elbows and looked down my body to meet Jack's blue eyes.
“Would you like another?” He licked his lips, clearly having enjoyed himself as much as I had.
I did, actually, because the first two had been wonderful, but what I really wanted was his cock. Absently, I tried to remember the last time I’d been the one on my knees, a man's hands fisted tightly in my hair while he thrust his cock past my lips, deep into my mouth until I couldn’t take him deeper – and then he had me take just a little more.
I could've gone down on Jack, felt the weight of him on my tongue, but it wouldn't have been the same. There was a term, 'topping from the bottom' that could've worked, where I was technically still dominating the sub, but performing various things that one would normally consider to be the function of a sub.
It wasn't the actions I wanted though. I wanted the loss of control. B
ut since I couldn't have that, I'd have him.
Sitting up, I fisted a hand in Jack's dark hair. He made a small sound in the back of his throat.
“I think what I want right now is for you to get on the bench over there.”
“What do you plan to do to me?” Jack asked, voice ragged.
The excitement in his voice was palpable, and something monstrously close to envy burned inside me. Pushing my initial plan aside, I didn't answer him. “I changed my mind. Kneel down in front of the bench. Facing it.”
His long, lean body flushed as he moved to do as I said. His cock was hard and he hadn't even touched it. I knew he was waiting for me to tell him it was okay, but we weren't there yet. Since I'd brought him up here, I'd agreed, even if it had been silently, to take care of his needs. That's what a good Dom did, made sure their sub was taken care of.
As he knelt down in front of the bench, I moved to the wall with its display of various tools and toys. Upon using one, it would be added to my account and I could either take it home, or they'd keep it for me for the next time. I took my time and found a crop that was both functional and elegant.
What could I say? I was a girl who liked having pretty toys.
Testing it against my hand, I glanced over to find him staring at me in the mirror.
The naked heat and raw desire in his eyes fired that part of me that did enjoy the domination side of things, and I turned, walking lazily over to him. Pressing the end of the crop to his neck, I nudged him forward.
“Bend over.”
After he complied, I took a moment to admire the designs tattooed across his skin. I traced them with the tip of the crop and watched goosebumps break out across his skin. When he was practically shivering in anticipation, I lifted the crop then brought it down across his muscled ass. He tensed, a harsh noise escaping him.
I knew that sound. It wasn't one of pain, but rather the sound that someone made when pain had been relieved. My gut clenched and I pushed aside my own desire for that same relief.
I brought the crop down again, this time on his right flank.
Another tight sound escaped him followed by a shudder.
I settled into a pattern that alternated from side to side, working up and down from his buttocks to a few inches above his knees, staying away from the joints where it could cause damage.
He was moaning and writhing, demanding sounds falling harshly from his lips. He was panting, begging, swearing...but never once did he say the safe word we’d agreed on.
Finally, I brought the crop to my side and moved forward, straddling the bench. “Sit up,” I ordered.
He did, swaying a bit, his eyes glazed with the headspace that came with someone thoroughly into what we were doing. I waited until he was steady, watching to make sure I didn’t need to help him maintain his balance. When I was sure he was okay, I reached for him.
Fisting a hand in his hair, I brought his head to my breast. “Suck on me. Hard.”
He immediately took my left nipple into his mouth, using his tongue to work the tip into a taut point. He seemed to know instinctively how much pressure to use, and when he scraped his teeth over me, it brought a ragged cry to my lips.
He paused, eyes flicking up to my face.
I brought the crop down on his ass, hard enough to sting, but not to hurt. “I didn’t tell you to stop.”
He went back to the task at hand with as much enthusiasm as before, this time alternating between my breasts. After a few minutes, his talented mouth had me aching and ready.
“Sit down.” I gestured to the space in front of me.
He moved with easy fluidity and I took another moment to admire him before I grabbed the condom I’d gotten ready earlier. Tearing it open, I leaned forward and slowly rolled it over his thick shaft. My knuckles brushed against his stomach, the tense muscles twitching under my touch.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” I asked softly.
“Yes.” His voice was a low, husky rasp and the gleam of satisfaction in his eyes made me smile.
“Good.” I trailed my fingers down his thigh. “That's good, Jack. Now you get to show me how much you appreciated it.”
I moved to straddle his lap, but didn't sink down on him. Not yet. He was strung far too tight. No matter how much control he had, I doubted he'd be able to overcome his body's natural needs if I slid down on him right now. I pushed my hands through his hair, making slow, even strokes across his scalp until I felt the tension in his body start to ease.
“Now, Jack, are you ready to show me how much you appreciated it?”
“Hell, yes,” Jack said and the words were ragged, underscored with an unspoken demand. He didn't say it, but I knew he was almost dying for release.
I was, too.
Smiling at him, I finally lowered myself enough for contact, brushing the tip of him against me. His latex-sheathed dick felt good, and I shivered in appreciation. He was hot. His cock was average size, but he was thicker than normal, and I knew he would feel amazing stretching me.
Taking his hands, I guided them to my hips. I was the one calling the shots, so I was at least going to get at least one thing I wanted.
Oblivion.
“I want you to fuck me now, Jack. Hard.”
I put my hands on his shoulders as I dropped a bit lower. We both moaned. My hands flexed on his shoulders, nails digging into his flesh.
“I want to feel it in the morning. Got it?”
His eyes widened slightly, pupils spiking. Something flashed across his face and then a slow smile curled his lips. “Yes, ma'am.”
“Any rules?”
“Yes. You don't stop, and you don't get to come until I do.”
He nodded and his grip on my hips tightened. He raised his hips even as he pulled me down, driving himself deep and hard. My head fell back and Jack began to prove that he was a man of many talents.
***
As he dressed, Jack asked if he could see me again. I gave him a noncommittal shrug. I wasn't totally opposed to the idea. I had to admit, he was the best partner I’d had in a good long while. He was definitely the best sub I’d ever topped. And he was an all-around good guy from what I saw.
On my way to the front of the club, my body ached in all the best ways and I knew that I’d be able to sleep better than I had in a while. He’d done exactly as I’d asked, fucked me good and hard, and all the stress that had been caged inside me had drifted away with each climax.
He hadn’t just held back until I came. He’d held back until I came twice.
Jack wasn’t a novice, or somebody looking to hold his hand, either. He was doing the same thing I was, looking for a partner. Someone who got everything he needed. If he’d been a switch, the two of us would've been perfect for each other.
But he was a sub through and through, and in the end, I needed more.
Still, I wasn't against the idea of us hooking up again in the future, and that had been what I told him. He’d taken my lack of commitment with good-natured humor and kissed me gently. Proving again what a great guy he was.
And then, right before he'd left, he said, “It can't be easy.”
I'd looked at him in confusion and he just shrugged.
“It can be a bitch sometimes, finding a decent partner. I'm sure you've heard it. I’m not a submissive guy outside of here, but when it comes to sex...well, all I want is to please the woman I’m with, and I enjoy submitting. Finding a partner who gets that can be complicated. I've been with more than a couple of female Doms who deal with the same sort of crap, just the opposite side of the coin. The guy is supposed to be on top and the woman is supposed to submit. All that shit. I figured you probably got it too, except from both ends.”
“How'd you know?” I'd asked, curious. Nobody ever figured out that I was a switch, unless I told them. And I didn’t make a practice of that. In the bdsm world, being a switch was almost like how some people looked at being bisexual. That you could only be one or the other. Both was somehow conf
used. Not everyone thought like that, not even the majority, I thought, but I still always kept it to myself.
“It wasn't hard, Dena.” His eyes had roamed over me appreciatively and then he'd given me a smile before turning back to the door. “A good partner picks up on what the other one wants or needs. Same way you did with me.” He'd opened the door then, and looked over his shoulder. “If you're ever in the mood, look me up.”
Chapter 3
Arik
Music blasted around me as I stepped into the club, but it wasn't so loud that I couldn't hear myself think. I took that as a good sign. This was only my second visit to Club Privé since moving to New York. So far I hadn’t decided on whether or not I wanted to join, but so far, things were looking good.
I was greeted by one of the hostesses, and she led me up to the VIP floor. She hadn't asked for my name, but she’d greeted me with it. I assumed that meant she remembered me from my initial visits here. That was service for you. But that was also why they had a VIP section, and why they charged buckets for it.
I'd been places where their VIP section was a joke, but here, it seemed to be worth it. I was moving through the scattering of bodies on the top floor when a good-looking couple approached. After a moment, I put a name to the man's face.
“Gavin, right?” I held out my hand. “The owner?”
“Yes. And you’re Arik. Arik Porter, if I remember correctly.”
I nodded, not elaborating any further. It was a habit. I only gave the needed information, never anything more.
“What do you think of my club?”
I gave him a noncommittal smile and nodded to the woman with him, a gorgeous blonde who he clearly adored.
She held out her hand. “I’m Carrie. I hope you're enjoying yourself.”
“Right now, I'm just looking to get a drink and sit down for a little while.” I hadn’t decided on anything beyond that, although I hoped to scout the group out and see if I couldn’t find somebody to...keep me company.
Carrie smiled brightly. “Well, let's get that taken care of. Would you care to join us?”