Clark, Rachel - Alicia's Awakening (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (5 page)

BOOK: Clark, Rachel - Alicia's Awakening (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)
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He was already drafting their training contract in his mind when it finally occurred to him that he was willing to add sexual penetration into the agreement. He usually shied away from intercourse with a trainee. Often, it confused the issue more than it helped. Submission wasn’t actually about sex.

It was an attitude adjustment, an acceptance of self, rather than a race to orgasm.

Although, in Alicia’s case, the orgasm had been amazing to watch.

Chapter Six

I’m pretty sure I’ve never been this turned on. There was a time in my life when I quite enjoyed sex, but then the obsession with my best friend had begun, and my inclination to imagine sex with Lachlan had turned me off actual sex with anyone else.

Until a week ago when I met Doug.

Now as we wander through the scantily dressed crowd of Doms and their subs I find myself thinking more and more about sex with Doug. What would it be like? Would he just take me? Lift me against a wall and thrust his cock inside me? Or would he bend me over and fuck me from behind? I shiver all over at the images dancing through my head.

He’s already told me he likes to tie subs down and fuck every hole at will. But he was talking experienced subs, women who know what’s what, not trainees.

And suddenly I want to get out of here. I have a million questions I want to ask and here inside the steamy, noise-filled atmosphere of a fetish club is just not the place. I squeeze his hand reflexively, not really certain how I can get his attention, but as always he’s attuned with my moods. He leans down.

“Yes, little sub?”

“Can we go now?”

“Are you using your safe word?” he asks with a frown on his face.

I shake my head quickly. “No. No, I just want to talk.”

He studies my face for a moment. “There’s one more scene I want to show you and then we can go.”

“Thank you, Sir,” I say, finally remembering I’m supposed to address him that way inside the club. He smiles, presses a kiss to my forehead again, and then leads me to the next scene.

Unlike the others we’ve been watching, this one seems to involve more role-playing. A man wearing office attire and a woman dressed demurely in a long skirt and white blouse seem to be in a small conference room of sorts. They glance around furtively like they have a secret to hide. “Finally,” the man says as he grabs the woman and starts kissing her ferociously. He’s dragging at her clothes, his hands roaming over her ass and up her back, one hand moving to settle on her hip as the other grips her breast. “I need you naked,” he says on a low growl.

“We don’t have time,” she answers breathlessly, glancing toward the closed door behind them.

“I know,” he says, but he drags her back into his arms and starts kissing her again. He has her shirt undone, her bra dragged down, and he’s licking her breast when the door flies open. They both startle, breaking apart as another man stalks into the room. At first he looks angry, but then he smiles and laughs.

“Newlyweds,” he mutters. “Fine, but if you’re going to use my conference room, I get to watch.”

Obviously the “newlywed husband” likes that idea.

“But first,” the new man says, sitting down on a large type of bench seat, “I’m going to spank my secretary’s ass while she sucks your cock.” The secretary shakes her head, pretending to be embarrassed. Her husband laughs, lifts her, and places her over her boss’s knee, and then shoves his cock into her mouth before she can protest. She moans and takes him deeper.

I can feel my own blood heating at the scenario, but instead of a husband and boss I’m substituting Doug and Lachlan. I can almost taste Lachlan’s cock as Doug lifts my skirt and drags my panties to my knees.

The scene in front of me unfolds exactly as the one in my imagination. The boss has his hand on her bare ass, rubbing over the soft skin a moment before landing a hard slap. I flinch at the noise, not in fear, but at the memory of my own spanking. I watch as the pink outline of a handprint appears on the woman’s pale flesh and moan softly as I realize that was what Doug watched as he covered my ass in hard slaps. I shiver with the secretary, sharing the incredible sensation of pain somehow morphing into pleasure. My knees wobble, threatening to dump me on the floor as memories and reality combine.

Doug notices, grins at my reaction, thankfully pulling me closer, holding me up.

“You are so fucking perfect,” he whispers as he half drags, half carries me out into the cool night air. He pins me against the side of his car, his rigid cock pressing against my aching, needy clit as he kisses me feverishly.

I’m clinging to him, shaking all over, practically on the verge of orgasm when he pulls back.

“Get in the car,” he orders as he wrenches the door open.

I quickly move to do as I’m told. Holy heavens. I didn’t even think it was possible to be this aroused while still fully clothed. He gets in the driver’s seat, frowns at me, then leans over to buckle my seat belt. He starts the car.

“Unzip your pants,” he orders. I don’t even think to object. His place isn’t far from here, but I’m desperate for some relief. At the very least not having the crotch of my jeans rubbing against my clit is a good thing. “Slide two fingers into your pussy.” I moan gratefully and push my hand into my panties, sinking two fingers into my pussy as far as they can go. “Fuck yourself, but don’t come.”

What the hell? Don’t come? I’m so close to orgasm I’m ready to shatter.

“Please?” I beg on a whimper as my fingers seem to move harder and faster all on their own.

“Don’t come,” Doug says without looking at me. He’s concentrating on the road—thank fuck—but I can’t seem to force my fingers to slow down. I’m so wet the squishing noise is filling the car and driving my arousal even higher.

I’m barely aware of our surroundings so I’m startled when he pulls the car into a parking space and turns off the engine. I recognize the parking garage under his building, but I’m too far gone to care. I can feel my orgasm starting, the free fall into bliss beginning. Doug growls, leans over, presses his hand against mine, grinding my palm against my clit and pushing my fingers deeper into my pussy.

I scream, shattering as my climax intensifies, the pleasant ripples of moments ago turning into gigantic waves of pleasure. I’m writhing against him, whimpering as the sensations just go on and on and on. He leans over me, taking my mouth savagely, thrusting his tongue, exploring me in ways I’ve only ever imagined before.

Finally liquid heat spills into my veins, the intense sensation making me feel like I’m falling. I grab ahold of Doug with my free hand, using all my strength to pull him closer. I’m still shaking when he lifts away from me, breaking the kiss. He grips my hand by the wrist, slowly pulling my fingers from my pussy.

“I told you not to come,” he says as he holds up my fingers showing the evidence of my disobedience.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. I know I’ve let him down, but considering the intensity of my orgasm, I’m having a hard time regretting it.

“No you’re not,” he says with a slight laugh. “But you will be.”

* * * *

Doug knew he should be trying to slow things down. Yes, Lachlan had suggested he train her as a submissive. Yes, Lachlan knew that submissive training often included intercourse. And, yes, Lachlan had all but walked away from pursuing a relationship with the woman he loved. But Doug knew better than to get involved. Fuck, they hadn’t even discussed a trainee contract, yet he was a deep breath away from fucking her over the hood of his car in a shared parking garage.

He needed to get a grip.

“Get out of the car,” he ordered. She went to do up her jeans, but his soft growl stopped her. “Leave them undone. Naughty subs don’t get the privilege of being covered.”

“But people might see,” she said, glancing around the deserted garage worriedly. It was late enough that they were very likely alone, but she didn’t need to know that.

“You should have thought of that before you disobeyed me.”

He could see her deciding whether to play by his rules or call a halt. Impatient, annoyed at his own lack of control, he wrapped a hand around the back of her neck and turned her to face him.

“Get out of the car as you are now, or say your safe word and I take you home.”

She nodded anxiously but moved her hand to the door handle.

“Good girl,” he said on a surge of relief. He could barely fathom what was happening between them, but he was pleased she was brave enough to find out.

Chapter Seven

I glance around furtively as Doug leads me into the elevator, his hand again firmly wrapped around the back of my neck. I’m very aware of the camera in the corner, and I press myself close to him hoping to block the view of anyone who might be watching. I’m not exactly naked, but it sure feels that way. For the first time in my life I’m happy to be carrying that few extra pounds I’ve always complained about. That additional layer of fat on my ass is probably the only thing keeping my jeans around my hips. I have no doubt Doug would make me leave them there if they dropped to my ankles.

He doesn’t say a word, just leads me to his apartment front door, opens it, and guides me through. He leaves me standing in the foyer while he locks the door behind us.

“Drop your jeans and panties to your ankles.”

I go to take my shoes off, but his annoyed “leave them on” has me straightening quickly. I glance at him once before pushing my jeans and underwear to pool around my ankles. They’re a straight-leg design and there’s no way they’re coming off with my boots on. Apparently Doug knows that because he smiles, turns me, and then taps my naked ass.

“Last door on the left.”

I shuffle awkwardly, very aware now of that extra layer of fat on my ass, and no longer pleased by it. I know he’s watching my bottom jiggle as he follows me down the hall.

Finally, I get to the door he indicated and start to reach for the handle. But at the last moment I snatch my hand back. He didn’t say to go into the room. Only sent me to the door.

“Good girl,” he says as he reaches around me and opens the door. Once again he places a hand on the back of my neck and guides me into the middle of the room.

Fuck. This isn’t a bedroom.

Some of the items I recognize from the club we just visited. Some I’ve never seen before. Most seem to be handmade.

“As you can see,” he says, apparently following my line of sight, “I’ve put the wood-crafting skills my father and grandfather taught me to good use.”

Hell. Understatement.

The room is filled with handcrafted, highly polished, lovingly maintained spanking benches of various heights, a St. Andrew’s cross, something that looks almost like a type of rocking horse, and another stool that matches the two in the kitchen.

“You made all this?” I blurt out before I can stop myself.

“I did,” he says as he steps in front of me and starts to unbutton my shirt. He reaches around my back to undo my bra but instead of taking it off the conventional way he slides the straps down each arm and takes if off without removing my shirt. “I like this color on you.” He loosely ties the ends of the shirt together, pushing it up under my breasts so that they are on display.

He leaves me standing there as he moves over to a cupboard and retrieves several items. I don’t even hesitate when he holds out his hand. I simply put my wrist in his palm. He seems pleased, and I smile tentatively as he buckles a fur-lined leather cuff onto each arm. I’m a little more concerned when he pulls them behind me and clips them together, but I managed to breathe through the tiny bit of panic.

“Good girl,” he says as he drops to his knees in front of me and laves my nipple with the flat of his tongue. I writhe against him as he sucks and nibbles on the sensitive nub, but my knees buckle at the sudden onset of pain.

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