Bound to the Bad Boy (11 page)

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Authors: Molly Ann Wishlade

BOOK: Bound to the Bad Boy
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After half an hour, they pulled
up in the private car park of Club Castille. It was quiet and secluded,
surrounded by giant trees. It was ironic that it was called Club Castille, as
it was in fact an old barn
that had been turned into
an exclusive club. Matt stopped the bike and removed his helmet.

He
climbed off then turned to face Megan. He reached for her hand. “Are you
alright?”

She
frowned. Was she? Could she really do this? Her stomach was in knots now and
she felt so naked and vulnerable.

Matt
helped her to cock her leg over the saddle then pulled her to his chest.

“You
don’t have to do this.”

He was
right. She didn’t. She met his eyes.
The eyes of her best
friend in the whole world.
They were warm and brown but held an air of
concern, as if he feared that she would run off any minute and abandon him
again. Which she wouldn’t do… would she? She wanted to please him and to find
out if she could take part in this life again. Did she have it in her or had it
just been folly, the wild abandon of youth?

“I want
to do this, Master.”

The
relief that flickered across his face warmed her right through. He wanted her
to accompany him and he had been truly worried that she wouldn’t. For all of
his confidence, his strong raw masculinity, his physical strength, he had
a vulnerability
.

And it
seemed, if she was reading him correctly, that his vulnerability was her.

They
walked towards the club, hand in hand, and Megan allowed Matt’s strength to
seep into her, to fill her up and boost her own self-confidence.

She was
glad to be here.
With Matt.
About to
scene with him in public.

She was
nervous. But she was also excited. And she had a suspicion that Matt felt the
same.

****

Matt climbed
the steps, holding Megan’s hand tightly, and walked onto the front porch of the
exclusive club. He pressed the button on the intercom and waited. When a woman
answered, he gave her a code. Names were not used to gain entrance to the club
and members were not required to use their real names once inside either. The
joining fee was high, which kept it exclusive and no one was allowed to join
without a reference from someone who was already a member. It ensured that only
those really interested in living the BDSM lifestyle attended. There were no
drunken stags seeking a pre-marital last fling and no reporters trying to grab
a quick story about one of the so-called celebrities. Of course, journalists
were not banned from the club. But only those who actively engaged in the
activities because it was their chosen pathway were allowed in.

The
door buzzed open and Matt stood aside to allow Megan to enter. She was
breathtakingly beautiful this evening. Her red hair shone as it tumbled freely
down her back. The green mac made her emerald eyes seem even brighter. Her skin
was luminescent, and she seemed to glow from within. He hoped that it was
because she was with him, that he had something to do with her radiance. He’d
given her plenty of orgasms since they had reunited and it had lifted him to
see her flushed with the post-orgasmic glow that he had missed.

As for
what she was wearing beneath her coat, or not wearing? His heart leapt at the
thought. She had donned the lingerie he had sent her and when he had arrived at
her hotel she had stolen his breath away. The sheer black corset accentuated
her curvy hips and the stockings clung to her rounded thighs. She was not
skinny and boney as was apparently fashionable these days, but a
real
woman. She went in and out in all
the right places. Her breasts had been totally exposed and even pushed out by
the top of the corset and it had further engorged the erection he had endured
since seeing her again. He felt like he was walking around with an elephant’s
trunk squashed into his black jeans.

When
Megan had presented herself, it had taken all of his energy not to lift her
into his arms and fuck her against the wall. The crotchless panties had slipped
apart, exposing the tight little pussy he had shaved the night before. He knew
how hot and responsive her cunt was and the anticipation of plunging into it
until he filled her with his cum was becoming almost too much to bear. He
longed to pound into her like a stag until he burst.

But not yet.
He
must wait. Fucking her now would just confuse them both.

In the
reception area, they perched on the white leather sofa and waited. He glanced
at Megan. Her face had paled. Was she okay?

“Sub?”

She looked
at him from beneath her sandy eyelashes.

“Master?”

“What’s
your color?”

“I’m
green, Master. A little nervous but I haven’t been here in a while.”

He took
her hand and squeezed it.
“Nothing to worry about.
This will be…enjoyable. I promise.”

She
flashed him a smile but it didn’t reach her eyes. She was clearly worried. But
he would ensure that this was a good night for her. Remind her just how good
the scene could make her feel.

A tall
blonde wearing a fitted black knee length dress approached them.

“Master
King.” She smiled brightly at them both. “You have a guest.”

He
nodded. “This is Megan. She is my sub.”

“Will
you be indulging in the scene tonight, Master King, or have you come to relax
in the spa?”

Megan
glanced at Matt and he grinned. “Yes, they have a spa too. You can have all
sorts of treatments.”

The
club was built upon the ethos that the body was a temple. It could be used for
pleasure and pain but it had to be taken care of. The spa was in a separate
building on the grounds of the club. He would love the opportunity to take
Megan there, one day soon.

“We
will be indulging in the scene tonight, Clarissa. Thank you.”

The
woman inclined her perfectly coiffured head. Her face was flawlessly made up
and she appeared to be an innocent receptionist. But Matt knew better. She was
a keen sub who often scened with the club’s Doms if they required company. She
was perfectly controlled and well mannered and he had enjoyed her company on a
few occasions. But she was professional and discreet about it and he knew by
looking at Megan that she suspected nothing.

Clarissa
opened a large mahogany cupboard and brought out two bundles. She handed them
to Matt.

“We
have quite a crowd in this evening, Master King. I’m sure that you’ll enjoy
yourselves.”

Matt
thanked her then nodded at Megan.
“Just head on through that
door.”

They
walked through into a small antechamber, which led off to two changing rooms.

“What’s
in the bundles?” she asked.

“Things
we might need. Like towels, condoms, lube, wipes. They provide it all here.”

“Oh.”
Her eyes widened.

“You
can leave your coat in there.” He pointed at the Ladies’ room, keen to get her
moving in case she overthought it all.

Megan
opened her mouth. She froze.

“What
is it, sub?”

She
frowned.

“I…uh…you
want me to walk around in the lingerie, Master?”

“Well,
of course. Why else would I have asked you to wear it?”

She
seemed to get paler than she had been in reception.

“Is
that a problem, sub?”

If it were,
then he would know right now that this would not work between them. He held his
breath. His shoulders burned with tension. If she backed out now, he felt like
he would crumble.
Please, Megan.

She bit
her lip.
Nodded.

“I
won’t be long, Master.”

She
turned and left him.

He
stood watching the door. He should take his belongings into the Men’s changing
room but if he did, would she be here when he got back? Or would she flee? But
he had no choice. It was either that, or wait until she returned then leave her
waiting. That seemed worse. So he nipped into the locker room and stashed his
jacket and the helmets that hung from his arm into a locker. Though they had
keys, none of the members bothered to lock them. Being here was about trusting
those around you. What went on here was too intimate not to. He just hoped that
Megan would be able to trust him enough to enjoy the evening.

Trust.
Their whole
relationship was about trust. After their separation, could they ever really
trust one another again?

We have to. I cannot stand to exist without
her.

He
emerged back through the door to find Megan waiting.

He placed
the bundles on the floor and pulled her into his arms. He couldn’t help it. She
was so beautiful, so adorable and so sexy. He held her tightly with one hand
and roamed her body with the other.

“You
are truly gorgeous, sub. You know that?”

Megan
tilted her head for a kiss.

“I am
pleased that you think so, Master.”

He
covered her mouth with his own and plundered it with his tongue. He tasted her
sweetness, her warmth, and her familiarity. His heart beat hard against his
ribs, trying to join with hers. He couldn’t wait to show her off.
To indulge her deepest, darkest desires and to make her come again
and again and again.

As he
pulled her even closer, his cock pushed against the front of her pussy and the
panties pinged aside. He ground into her, the zipper on his jeans digging into
his erection and her wet warmth. She moaned into his mouth and he lifted her,
wrapping her legs around him. He pushed her back to the nearest wall and humped
her repeatedly, wishing that they were naked and he was indeed buried in her
heat. She cried out as she came and he held her there for a moment, shuddering
with his own raw lust. He was on the verge of exploding into his pants and it
took a few minutes to battle the urge.

When he
had caught his breath, he lowered her gently and helped her to reposition her
underwear. Then he brushed her pussy cream from his jeans and licked it from
his fingers.

“Shall
we?”

He smiled
at her flushed cheeks and the cute, dazed expression on her face. She looked
like he felt. He took her hand and led her towards the entrance to the bar.

 

 

 

Chapter Eight

 

Megan
stepped into the darkened bar area of Club Castille. The soothing fragrance of
incense and vanilla met her nostrils. Combined with the gentle lighting and
subtle saxophone music, it created a relaxed and sensual mood. Nothing was
overdone. The incense was not overpowering, but sensual and warming. The music
was just loud enough to hear, but quiet enough to allow conversation. The lamps
spaced around the room and the candles on the low tables gave the room a soft
glow, which helped to calm her nerves about being almost naked in a room full
of people.

Matt tucked
the bundles under a strong arm and led her towards the bar where a muscular man
smiled warmly at them. Megan tried to pretend that she hadn’t noticed that the
bartender was wearing nothing but an apron covering his groin. Beneath the
apron was an impressive bulge that bobbed as he moved. She realized that he was
probably wearing a cock ring to keep him ready and erect for the pleasure of
the club’s customers.

“Champagne,
Master King?”

Matt
nodded at him as he handed him their bundles. “We’ll collect these later.”

Megan
thought she saw the bartender check out Matt’s chest but she couldn’t be sure.
He hadn’t even glanced at her large bare breasts, and if Matt was more his
type, then that would explain it.

She
tried to slip a hand down to her panties to pull the one side back over her labia
but it was difficult to do it discreetly.

“Problem, sub?”
Matt grinned.

“My
panties have slipped.” She grimaced.

“No
problem.” He reached out and took hold of the gauzy material and pulled it back
into place. Then he ran his finger quickly from her opening to her clit. She
gasped. Shocked yet excited.

“Master.”

“Behave
yourself, sub. Not yet.” He frowned in feigned annoyance.

Megan
tried to slow her breathing. Matt handed her a glass of champagne and she took
a big swig, enjoying the sensation of the chilled bubbles as they slipped down
her throat and into her churning belly.

Matt gestured
at a large white couch tucked into an alcove on the far wall.

“Shall
we take a seat?”

She
followed him across the bar, conscious as she walked of her near-naked state.
She had been to the club in the past but never been so scantily clad to begin
with and, of course, she’d been younger.
Obsessed with her
Dom. Carefree.
Having been out in the ‘real world’, she felt more
self-conscious. The idea that she could bump into someone she knew here was
mortifying. How would she react?

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