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He stopped.
“Please, Ethan.”
“Who?” His voice alone lashed her more deeply than a whip.
“Please, Master.”
“Please, what?” He refused to touch her.
“Please don’t stop!” she gasped. “Master.”
“Spread your legs, all the way,” he said. She obeyed. He stretched her legs further apart and bound them each spread eagle with silken cords to hidden hooks under the table.
She waited docilely with her legs spread.
Ethan’s head disappeared between her legs. With just the very the tip of his tongue, he skimmed her outer lips, then her inner lips. Back and forth, up and down. He lapped at her pussy with all the gusto of a starving man.
He laved her with his entire tongue over and over, from her backside all the way to her clit. He swirled the tip of his tongue around her clitoris each time he returned to it. Once, twice, thrice, again and again. Folding her pussy lips open with his fingers, he thoroughly lubed her folds
“Next time, I’ll put my cock in your ass, naughty girl.”
With those words, Valentina erupted like a volcano. Her hot juices spilled into Ethan’s voracious mouth. He pressed his entire face into her pussy, chin to forehead, and lapped up her ambrosia like a drunken Athenian at a bacchanalian orgy. Tremors shook her body in an earthquake, and she convulsed over and over like a demon was being exorcised from her flesh. A scream tore from her throat, but Ethan muffled the sound roughly with his hand over her mouth.
Now she understood what the poster meant.
* * *
Ethan unbound her gingerly, rubbing the circulation back into her limbs. He helped Valentina to her feet chivalrously, but she stood motionless next to the table in a post-submission stupor. It appeared it was time for them to leave. Bastian put her shredded panties into her purse, muttering they were a “sexy souvenir,” and hooked her bra. He slipped her chiffon dress over her head and pulled it down into place. A hair tie appeared from nowhere, and he fixed her tresses into a tidy bun. The bottle of Alizé went into her purse, next to the panties. They each took one of her hands and led her out of the club and down the outdoor stairway.
“Do you need help walking?” Ethan asked.
She nodded and he scooped her right up into his arms and easily carried her down the stairs. At the bottom, he set her back on her feet. He slipped her shoes over her toes and returned her handbag.
“Have a good night,” said the bouncer amiably, with a knowing wink.
“We already did.”
“Shall we take you home?” Bastian asked Valentina gallantly.
“No,” she responded, then to Ethan, “take me to your place.”
He looked pleased and surprised.
“I want to return the favor.”
* * *
“You live in the IBM Building?” Valentina asked.
It was ten minutes later when they pulled up to his home in a landmark black-metal and tinted-glass tower. Ever the student of architecture, she instantly recognized the construction material as bronze anodized aluminum. She had to admit she was impressed with his living situation, although she still disliked him.
Didn’t she?
Now that her post-orgasmic glow had subsided, she thought that a good sex session couldn’t be enough to erase her enmity.
Could it?
“It’s the AMA Plaza now,” Ethan answered, turning off the ignition. “The Langham Hotel has the first thirteen floors. The American Medical Association and some law firm own the rest.”
