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I was going to prove a point that night. She needed to know never to mix feelings with mere physical pleasure.
Whirlingour bodies around, I turned her to face the glass wall. The show was about to begin and my little puppet was going to obey me. ‘I want you to do exactly what she does,’ I said, brushing my lips against her neck and watching the delicate skin crawl under my touch.
‘Are you out of your fucking mind?’ she uttered before her brain got a chance to process what she was saying.
‘Now I’m going to have to make you pay for that sharp tongue of yours. Do what she fucking does. We have a deal!’ I was ready to give her the final lesson in obedience.
Sandra, myemployeefrom the other side of the glass was beginning her act, moving the size of her palms from the cups of her bra to the luscious curves of her hips. My eyes turned to Bea who wasn’t showing any kind of interest in following Sandra’s gestures.
‘If you don’t do what she does, I’ll take you over there. Maybe you’ll like things better if she can see us too.’ At that point, I wasn’t even bluffing. I was just one step away from dragging her onto the stage and showing her that when I fucking say something then she better listen.
Bea suddenly wised up. She always tends to do that after a couple of threats. Her hands glued to her hips, mimicking Sandra’s.
Finally, she was listening. But not without further protests. ‘She can see us.’
‘She can’t see us. The window has a mirror on the other side like the one in interrogation rooms.’
Somehow, I was explaining myself to her once again.
And that got me that much more angry at myself.
Luke, the male protagonist of the night, finally entered the room with heavy steps, heading towards his partner. He knew exactly what he needed to do next. Hell, I knew what he would do next, even though I asked the two to switch things up for that night. I was in need of a little new entertainment for myself.
Sandra was looking at Luke through the window, raising her lips into a small grin to acknowledge his presence. I knew what her acting was about all too well — seducing whatever audience she might have had into imagining that she was looking directly at them.
Luke was positioning behind her as she was gluing against him with a sensual gesture. Things should have been no different in my case, but my toy for the night, Bea was as stiff as a fucking board. It was like she had frozen on spot and was about to break at the smallest attempt of me touching her.
And if she wanted to break, then I would break her...
My fingers dug deep into her waist, the same way Luke’s dug into his own partner, getting Sandra to turn and join her mouth with his.
Bea repeated the movement, whirling around to find my own lips into a kiss that expressed exactly what was going on between us — the coldness that was spreading within our hearts despite our heated bodies.
My plan would work. I was certain of that, although with every swirl of her tongue some fucked-up inner calling was shaking my senses, asking me not to lose her.
And I was doing exactly that — losing her.
At least, I was on the right track to save myself. She was finally starting to listen, mimicking Sandra’s gestures and unbuttoning my shirt. The lava heat of her tongue ran down my chest. Though no sign of passion. Just flesh on flesh completing a task that she was paid for. No different from any other girl working in my clubs.
My nostrils flared at the thought. I was getting exactly what I wanted and although my body couldn’t be contained from jolting under her touch, I felt a destructive torment deep in the pit of my stomach. But it didn’t stop me from continuing to play the game. I was my own master. I fucking decided what I should or should not feel!
Sandra was just preparing to assist Luke’s length with the inside of her mouth, and despite Bea’s momentarily hesitation, she was gathering her strength to do the same. There wasn’t a chance in hell I would miss out on that royal treatment, and she was damn aware of that.
Bea suddenly rushed to catch up, unzipping my pants and disposing of my boxers. No passion there either. She was just undressing me like a plastic mannequin.
My dick didn’t seem to care. It was still dying to have her.
My personal slave for the night was reproducing Sandra’s gestures but not the emotions. And that was fine by me. I didn’t need emotions. I just needed to disappear between her lips and she was doing just that, taking me all in and tensing up every fiber of my muscles.
Like a lightning-bolt piercing through my body, a sharp pain beckoning from my wound made me search the rim of the holstered table to help myself to remain standing on my feet.
In seconds, I was above the anguish, thrusting toward her with a rhythm that was guaranteed to send me to ecstasy. My throat echoed with the groans of the pleasure running through me, heightening her own pace as I recognized all signals that her body was ready to have me.
I would bet on my crown that her core was coated with the signs of her own arousal as her gestures were gradually turning from mechanical to ones directly meant to satisfy my deepest desires. Her damn tongue was pressing on the center of my tip, while her lips were traveling the whole size of my length. I was a goner and I knew it the second I drove one of my hands to tangle into her curls, steadying her head so I could have the final call of my release.
I felt myself draining inside of her, keeping my hand locked behind her head so she wouldn’t waste a drop of my elation.
My mind was still spinning from the thrill, but as I peeked through the glass, Luke was already lifting Sandra onto the table. And if I wanted to have credibility in front of Bea, then I should also be able to be good on my word and keep up with the mirroring.
