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I turn to Rick. “I don’t have the number to this—" My phone vibrates. I glance down to find a message:
Declan: This is the number of your new phone.
Clearly, he keyed his number into the phone book. I slide the phone into my bag, then brush past Rick, and toward the entrance. I push open the heavy double doors and step into the bright sunshine. No surprise, I hear his heavy tread in my wake. I begin to walk down the front steps, and he catches up with me at the bottom.
"Where are you going?"
"In search of Declan." I walk past the limo and down the driveway.
"How do you think you’re going to find him?"
"I don’t know, but I’ll think of something." I continue down the drive, and he keeps abreast.
"This is LA, you can’t walk anywhere."
"I come from Napoli. We walk everywhere."
“You don’t have any money on you.”
I scoff, “I can catch a lift.”
He blows out a breath. "You’re not going to give up, are you?"
"Nope."
"Fine. Wait here." His footsteps fade away. The next thing I hear is the car starting up, then he slides the limo to a halt next to me.
Yes!I round the limo and slide into the passenger’s seat next to him. "So, where are you taking me?"
16
Declan
He brings down the whip and red welt blooms across her back. Droplets of blood blossom in its wake. The man scoops up the blood and brings it to his mouth. He sucks on his fingers. The coppery taste would fill his palate right now. Bet, he’s turned on and can’t wait to cover her pristine butt with his markings. The woman is naked. She’s bent over a whipping bench, on her elbows and knees, with her torso resting on the elevated portion of the bench. Straps encircle her forearms, calves and waist, restricting her movement. Her arse is in the air, her knees far enough apart that, even at this distance, I can see the moisture glisten down her inner thigh. I shift in my seat on the other side of the one-way mirror. The two are in an exhibition room at the Club. Yep, that’s what we call it because it doesn’t have a name. It's one way of guaranteeing absolute privacy to members. If the place doesn’t have a name, then everyone refers to it by a very generic name, which diminishes the chances of snoopy paps stumbling onto its existence.
I’m seated in the private viewing room as the sounds of the Dom and his Sub carry to me over the speakers. Normally, I’d be the one on the other side of the glass.
I’d be the one to raise my whip and snap it, making her wince, before bringing it down on her back, then below her butt, and across the backs of her thighs. I’d be the one to pause and scoop up her cum and drag it over the freshly broken skin. I’d be the one to widen my stance to accommodate the thickness between my legs. I’d be the one standing over her, working her over, wearing only jeans.
I came here with that intention, anyway, but when I saw her stretched out and ready for me, I couldn’t proceed. Her shape was wrong. She was too tall, too pale, her hair too dark. Her little sounds of anticipation were all fake. And her scent—it completely destroyed any chance of me feeling anything. In short, that little siren has spoiled me for any other woman. So, I contented myself with assuming the position of an onlooker.
He whips her again, and she groans. The sound should turn me on. It should thicken my cock, ratchet up my pulse. It should make me want to stalk over, grab the whip from the Dom, and whip his sub myself, but it’s not her. I curl my fingers into fists, then bow my head.
I need a release. I need a bloody release, so I can get thoughts of her out of my system. So, I can set her free to pursue her future. So, I can allow the world to discover her. It’s why I brought her with me, after all. So why am I finding it so difficult to let go of her?
I squeeze my eyes shut, then pull up my T-shirt, open my fly and shove my hand down the front of my pants. I pull out my cock and squeeze it from base to crown and again. I think of her eyes, those gorgeous green eyes that welled up with tears when I spanked her. She was aroused; I’m sure about that. Though I hadn’t meant to lose my temper that way. I hadn’t meant to punish her, but I couldn't stop myself. I allowed myself that one slip, and damn, if I didn’t sense that inner submissive in her.
Am I fooling myself? Does she have an inner need to be dominated by me? Would she be sickened by my proclivities, or would she find them intriguing enough to want to experiment with me? I massage my swelling dick, spreading my legs wider as I begin to pump myself. Up-down-up.
I will not corrupt her. Will not allow my tendencies to mar her. She’s young and innocent, and while she may be spirited, there’s little doubt she has no idea what BDSM involves. And if I had an iota of decency, I’d keep it that way. Doesn't stop me from imagining it though.
My balls harden, blood fills my shaft. I continue to squeeze my cock, again and again. Sensation radiates out from my crotch. My limbs grow heavy.On your back, thrust out your chest, bare your tits for my cum, you slut.
"Oh, fuck, Rabbit, I’m going to come." The tension tightens at the base of my spine, then explodes out. I come right there in my pants, my cum splattering in thick strands on my stomach.
A gasp reaches me. I turn to find Solene standing not a foot away, staring at me. Her gaze is locked on my crotch as I continue to squeeze myself. Her breath rises and falls; her chin trembles.How the hell did she get here?Before I can ask the question, she licks her lips, and my dick attempts a quick resurrection.
In the adjoining room, the woman groans. There’s a snap of the whip, and she squeals.
