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There’s another flush of heat between my legs. I quickly shut off the water, reaching for a towel, suddenly eager to get to bed with that image still filling my mind. I walk naked into my bedroom, opening the drawer in my nightstand that has my assortment of toys, and glance over what’s there.
What does his cock look like? I try to imagine the thick ridge of it, straining against his fly, eager to be set free. I choose one that’s almost this side of too big, a cock that would be a little of a strain to take. I can imagine him tied down, that thick cock jutting up from his hips, lips pressed together as I tease him with my fingers, stroking the veins.Beg me to take it,I’d tell him, hovering over him, just close enough that my arousal would drip onto him, hot and wet, teasing him with how close the tight pleasure of my pussy is to the head of his cock, relief just out of reach.Tell me how you want to split me open with your big cock. If you beg well enough, maybe you can put the tip in.
I think he’d resist. I imagine that resistance, the guilt on his face at thinking of talking to me that way, ofwantingit, as I kneel in the center of the mattress, hovering over the thick toy in my hand as I imagine it. He’d try not to say it, the pleading in his face so much worse when I just barely rubbed my wet pussy over the tip, enough to get that hot arousal all over his sensitive flesh, and he’d moan and writhe and try to thrust up into me, but he’d be tied down, unable to get his hips up enough to feel that tight pressure where he needs it the most—
The flood of desire that courses through me catches even me off guard. Lately, when I have played with myself, it’s more to get to sleep than anything else. I don’t imagine anyone in particular, not since Nikolai got married, and I feel guilty for remembering our times together that way. It’s been more like scratching an itch, easing a need like eating or sleeping or drinking. But right now—
Iwantthe man from the bar. I don’t even remember his name, have no idea who he is or what he does or anything about him, but I’m aching at the fantasy of having him naked and at my mercy, that thick cock dripping pre-cum for me, twitching at every touch, those full, soft-looking lips of his parted on a plea for me to stroke him, suck him, fuck him. I imagine arching over him, rubbing my fingers over my clit the way I had on the stage, teasing him with an up-close and personal view of the show I put on tonight, rubbing those fingers over his lips so he could get a taste.
Some men want to be fucked by their dommes after a period of extended begging, others get off on the denial, on the just-out-of-reach tease that sometimes has them coming without ever even being touched. I don’t know which one he would be—hell, I don’t know if he evenlikesthat—but I imagine his pleading voice as he finally gives in, begging for just a minute in my pussy, that that’s all he needs, and how I’d slide downtorturouslyslowly—
I sink down onto the toy, gasping aloud as I clench around it, the fingers of my other hand circling my slick, throbbing clit as I take the toy in inch by inch, imagining the man’s face twisting with pleasure, his body jerking against the cuffs holding him down, his hips desperate to thrust, unable to move. I imagine controlling every inch of his pleasure, sliding back up as I ripple over his length, hovering over him again with his cock glistening with my arousal, telling him to beg me again if he wants another stroke. I could torment him for a long time like that, one slow thrust at a time, letting him twitch and jerk helplessly in between, just enough pleasure to keep him rock-hard but not enough to let him come.
Maybe I’d let him, maybe I wouldn’t. Some of it would depend on his specified desires, of course, but this ismyfantasy tonight, and in my head, I get off of him, making him think I’m going to leave him like that, hard and throbbing, the veins on his cock standing out until he pants and begs, and then I’d give him my mouth, wrapping my lips around just the head and sucking until he screamed out his pleasure, bursting between my lips—
My entire body tightens, thrusting down on the toy as I tip my head back and cry out, my fingers rubbing quickly over my clit as I feel my orgasm course through me, a release I didn’t know I needed until now. And the moment I come, a strange thought bursts through my head—the image of him looking up at me as I suck his orgasm out of him; words growled at me with a sudden force.
Swallow all my fucking cum, and I won’t punish you once I’m out of these cuffs.
I’ve never gotten off on submission. Not like that. But the words claw through my brain, intensifying the pleasure until I’m rocking down onto the toy, clenching around it as I imagine him pulsing inside of my mouth, those threatening words pushing me to swallow every drop, licking him clean as he murmursgoodgirl, and I’m suddenly craving those hands on my body, running through my hair, those muscled arms pulling me into him as I wait for him to get hard again so I can fuck us like we both need—
The climax ebbs, the pleasure spiraling away, and as I come back to myself, I feel a strange, startled sensation replace the bliss.What is going on with me? I slip the toy free, setting it aside for a moment to let my thighs stop trembling before I go and clean up, and I shake my head, trying to jolt the fantasy loose. After tonight of all nights, I don’t know why I’m getting off imagining being told what to do. Ihatebeing called a good girl. And I don’t like cuddling, not even with people I see outside of the club. I like my space, my independence. I don’t even like bringing dates over to my place; I’d rather go to theirs. I don’t want someone else’s cologne or perfume on my pillow, the scent of their skin lingering on my sheets, traces of them left behind. My apartment is my safe space, a place that isonlymine.
Closeness creates more problems than it soothes. And I have never wanted anyone that close.
Most of all, I want freedom. Once upon a time, I had something keeping me held in place. And I know the cost of wanting that. Ofneedinganything other than myself.
It’s too high. And I never plan to want or need it again.
Finn
Two days later, I’m still thinking about the girl from the Ashen Rose.
I’d never tell anyone else that. Allan and Flynn—Flynn especially—would never let me hear the end of it, and there’s no one else I’d tell that I saw a girl for hire at an exclusive sex club and can’t get her out of my head.
Idefinitelywouldn’t tell anyone that I went home and jerked off again thinking about how her sweet pussy might taste on my lips, or that every time I’ve wrapped my hand around my cock since then, she’s found her way into my thoughts, no matter how hard I try to think about something else. Jerking off is usually a once-a-night or every couple of nights thing for me, something to take the edge off so I can focus, but I’ve gotten hard more times than I have in years over the past couple of days. Pretty much every time she pops into my head, which is more than she should, considering I’ll never see her again.
There’s no reason for me to. I can’t afford a membership, and I don’t think Flynn’s getting another guest pass. Even if I somehow managed to leverage some of the minor connections I have to get in, I can’t afford her. She’s going to stay exactly what she is right now—an unattainable fantasy, which means that thinking about her is a waste of time.
If only I didn’t get off so goddamn hard every time. Jerking off is never as good as fucking, but thinking about her while doing it is damn close. Which just makes me wonder even more—
Quit it, O’Sullivan, I tell myself as I park my motorcycle in front of the building, steeling myself for another meeting. Nikolai will be at this one, as a part of the truce between his family and Theo’s, since we’re here today to talk about what to do about the upstart Russian who is nosing in on territory, trying to make a name for himself.
Matvei Kotov.Even the name makes him sound like a little shit, I think privately to myself as I tuck my keys in my pocket and stride to the elevator, shrugging out of my leather jacket as I do. Unfortunately, after being at the Ashen Rose, thinking of him also makes me think of that woman on stage—and thinking of them together causes a confusing, tangled flood of anger and arousal that throbs through me with equal strength.
Stop being such a fucking idiot. I have no reason to be angry at him for touching her. She was the prize for that damn poker game, and he won—no surprise, too, because from what I saw when I wasn’t staring at the dark-haired woman, he had iron concentration and a hell of a poker face. Both of which are good things to know, incidentally, when it comes to discussing with the other Kings and Nikolai how we’re going to stop him from becoming a real problem.
What won’t help is thinking about her—or getting angry because he got to take her upstairs and I didn’t, like I have any right to feel possessive over her.
Nikolai is already at the table with a handful of the other Kings when I arrive, some of the seats still waiting to be filled. He gives me a nod as I sit down to conference Theo in, and I wonder if he noticed me at the club last weekend.Is there some kind of protocol against saying something? I wonder as I bring up the screen for the video call. I don’t know how that kind of shit works—I’m not in the habit of buying women, or of knowing people personally who I’d make that exchange with. Before that night, I’d only ever been to run-of-the-mill strip clubs. Nothing like the Rose.
“We need to talk about Matvei Kotov,” Nikolai says without preamble once everyone is seated and Theo is present on the call. “There’s plenty of low-level crime organizations and gangs in this city, and I’d hoped he might just be another one of those—an irritation at times, but nothing to really worry about. I have reason to believe he could be a real threat in time, however—and that he’s angling to be exactly that. I think we need to pay more attention to what he’s doing—gather information, maybe even have some of our lower-level men infiltrate. I have a gut feeling about this, and it’s not good.”
“Far be it from me to question your gut instincts,” Theo says dryly, with a tone that suggests that while the issues between him and Nikolai might be resolved, they’re not entirely buried yet. “But I’m not inclined to ignore your impression of this man, either.”
“I think his ambition outstretches his reach,” Nikolai says flatly. “And I think he’s going to try to find some way to extend that reach as far as he can before someone puts a stop to it. We need to find a way to contain that sooner rather than later.”
“I don’t disagree,” Theo says, sitting back in his chair contemplatively. “If things start to get too out of hand, Finn, I’ll come back and take charge. But for now, I think you can handle this, aye?”
