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His arms released me instantly and I fell onto the floor, landing on my sore ass with a hard enough thud to make me hiss in pain. I crab-crawled away from him until my back hit something solid, ending my retreat. Seth sat calmly on the couch, watching my clumsy escape. His jaw twitched but it was the only movement of his entire body.
Panic clawed at my belly as I looked around the room. Where in the fuck were we? Within a few seconds, I knew. Although I’d never seen the penthouse that was to be our temporary home, I knew that’s where he’d taken me. How long had I been out? How did we get here? Question after question slammed through my head…only to be replaced with visions of what happened once we entered the club—beginning with the meeting with Javier and ending with my punishment for being disrespectful to my Dom. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected when I’d dreamed up the brilliant plan of covering up my pouting by playing the naughty sub. What I never imagined was him forcing me on my knees in front of everyone, making me lick his cock, through the denim of his jeans, of course, and then, to my humiliation, drape me over his lap, pull my jeans down, and spank my ass…like a child. And then, just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, it started…the floating…the spiraling out of control. Again, the club sounds, loud and rowdy, sounded far away and the only focus I had was me, Seth, and the gift he was giving me.
Then, the exquisite, comforting, and peaceful darkness.
My actions were abso-fucking-lutely-ridiculous. I was addicted, and Seth was my drug of choice. No matter what he did, my body responded obediently. Sure, my brain tried to rebel, fight off the unfamiliar urges, but it was clearly a damned losing battle.
I didn’t know if I should be furious with myself, disappointed with myself...or proud of myself.
He rolled a bottle of water across the floor toward me. “Drink.”
For the first time since I’d experienced my first BDSM session, I wanted to rebel at even the simplest of tasks. What was wrong with me? “How did we get here?” I asked while removing the cap from the bottle and taking a swig of the cool water.
“Bentley—the same way we got to the club.”
“No! Here! How did…how did I get here?” I motioned wildly around the room.
“I carried you,” he answered. “Drink it all, Baker. You sweated a lot and you’ve been out for nearly thirty minutes. I need your fluids replenished.”
“You carried me? Of course, you did. Why not? I couldn’t walk, right? I was incapacitated. No worries. It happens all the time.” I needed to escape. Hide. Run away. The problem was, it was me I needed to hide from—not Seth. I made a huge gesture of looking around the penthouse living room. “Nice digs, huh? I guess we are rich. I hope you took the elevator and not the stairs. I’m not a light-weight. Were there people in the lobby? How many people saw it? Was I drooling? Should I have…?”
Seth held up his hand for me to stop talking. “Just breathe, Baker. It’s a natural reaction to the chemicals your body releases from the pleasure you receive from the pain. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. If anything, you should be proud. You have an ability…a gift that not many people are able to achieve, no matter how hard they try or how much time and training they invest. Why does it bother you?”
I looked away, ashamed. I shouldn’t enjoy the feelings coursing through my body. I shouldn’t crave another man’s hands on me. The visions that intruded into my mind, no matter how hard I tried to push them away, shouldn’t be there. They were dangerous. I could easily see myself confusing reality with fantasy.
A horrible thought crashed into me. “Did I suck your cock?” My eyes bore into his. “Tell me, Seth! Did I?”
He looked amused. “No, Baker, you didn’t. Why would you think you did?”
Because I’d imagined it when I knelt in front of him. His scent was strong and mixed with a hint of musk. The bulge at his crotch had called out to me and I’d wondered what he tasted like. Did that part of him smell as good as the rest of his body? Would his cock be thick or long…or both? Would it fit in my mouth or choke me when he pushed too far down my throat? Would it feel like velvet or steel inside my mouth?
“No reason,” I answered, bewildered by the direction of my thoughts and the disappointment I felt upon hearing I hadn’t gotten the opportunity to let him fuck my mouth.
“Drink the rest of the water, Baker. Don’t make me tell you again.”
