Obsession (Forbidden #2) (10 page)

‘You’re going to tell me those dangerous thoughts, Mr Cannon. Do you hear me?’

She’s got her mouth up against my ear again, her voice low and husky and I don’t know how much longer I can hang on here. I don’t know which pain is the hardest to take – the pain of the whip connecting with my skin, or the fact my cock is still confined beneath the denim of my jeans, when it needs to be inside her. So fucking deep it may never come out.

‘You’re going to tell me, all of them.’

She grabs hold of the waistband of my jeans and yanks me around so my back’s to the wall, and her eyes… man, how can she fucking
do
that?

She leans right into me, loosening my jeans, and her fingers are back around my cock, closing in, squeezing tight, and she really is fucking killing me now.

‘You’ll tell me them. In time.’

I close my eyes, and her hand’s back on my neck, and the pressure she applies is both frightening and exhilarating and I need her so bad, right now. I fucking need her, now.

‘Everything in time, Neal.’

My breathing can’t get much more ragged, it’s already out of control and I’m starting to feel dizzy. But I get off on this shit, I really do. I fucking get off on it, big time. So whatever happens next, I’ll take it. And then I’ll take
her.
When she tells me I can.

She backs off from me, and I can’t take my eyes off her as she loosens the zipper at the side of her dress and pulls it away, and I literally cry out at the sight of her, naked bar for the boots and the gloves and I am desperate now. I’m so fucking desperate.

She smiles, and I throw my head back and close my eyes for the briefest of seconds to see if I can claw back some self-control, but it’s not coming. And then I hear her crack the whip, and my eyes spring open and the look she gives me, man, I’m living my own hard-core porn movie here.

‘Who said you could close your eyes, Mr Cannon?’

I let out the deepest breath, but I have to draw another one straight back in as she moves her legs apart and trails the tip of the whip slowly across her slit, up over her stomach and across her tits, my eyes following every move she fucking makes, and when she trails it slowly over her tongue… This woman is freaking unbelievable! And then she holds the whip out, tucking the tip under my chin, and she doesn’t have to say anything now. Her eyes are telling me all I need to know.

I take hold of the whip and yank it from her grip, throwing it down before I grab her by the waist and kiss her so roughly I can hear her cries sinking into me. And her fingers rake my skin, but the gloves she’s wearing mean the damage is minimal, but it still hurts, this all hurts – physically, emotionally, it’s all pain, and I need it, crave it; want it.

But the control I have here is limited, and in a heartbeat she’s got me face down on the bed, the heel of her boot resting lightly on the small of my back and I flinch as she moves it slightly, catching the already existing bruise that’s there; a souvenir from another recently played game. And then she applies a touch more pressure, and I cry out because the pain I’m feeling is very, very real, but all I can think about is fucking her, making her pay for what she’s doing to me because that’s what she wants; for me to make her pay.

‘Am I hurting you, Mr Cannon?’

She digs her heel in harder and my cries become louder, escalating even more as she cracks the whip across my shoulders.

‘Keep your eyes closed. Learn to block out the pain. Shut down your mind and it won’t hurt so much, remember?’

She continues to grind the heel of her boot into the small of my back, and the shot of agony that sends ripping through me is almost unbearable. And then she pulls her boot away, and I feel her straddle me, her pussy warm and wet against my back, soothing the pain she inflicted on me just seconds earlier.

She’s got her hands on my skin, her fingers working their way up my back, on to my neck, and then she slides them into my hair and pulls my head back as she leans forward, her mouth almost touching my ear as she speaks. ‘Eyes closed, Mr Cannon.’

She wants my eyes closed, I like hers open. I like her to look at me when I’m fucking her. I like to watch her come, see her expression change, Christ, I love that! But this time I’m playing by
her
rules, so I close my eyes, my fingers clawing at the sheets, clutching them tight as she moves around on top of me. She’s rubbing her pussy against me, grinding down on to me and she’s wet and soft and it’s fucking killing me, but she’s taking her own pleasure first. She’s using me as a tool, something to get her off before she allows me to take whatever she thinks I deserve. But it’s so freaking hard, feeling her on me, hearing her moan as she pleasures herself and I can’t see a fucking thing.

She speeds up, rubbing faster, and her fingers are back in my hair, clenching tight, pulling my head back again as she comes against me, and I can feel her juices spilling out on to my back, and they’re warm, and her screams and cries are filling the air and I am freaking dying. I’m in a world of pain here, and she knows it, and that excites her. It excites
me
. How fucking sick is that?

I feel her slow down, her thighs gripping me tight as she finally comes to a stop and she leans forward again, her breath heavy and uneven as her mouth touches my cheek. ‘Your turn, Mr Cannon.’

She climbs off me and I turn over and stand up, grabbing her by the hips, and her legs are around me within seconds as I slam her hard against the wall, pushing into her with an almost violent force, but she invited this. She allowed this. She wants it this way, but all I can feel is a relief so overwhelming it almost knocks me sideways as I sink deeper inside her.

‘Harder, baby. Fuck me harder,’ she breathes, and I obey, of course I do. I start fucking her so hard every thrust slams her back against the wall, drawing small cries of pain from her but at the same time she’s asking me to go even further, push even harder, and we’re both being carried along on this wave of pleasure so wrong. But it’s feeding our addiction. Satisfying every craving we have.

For the time being.

Because once is never enough.

We seek a constant pleasure now.

We need to push those boundaries even further.

Until there isn’t a line left we haven’t crossed…

Eleven

Kira

‘You’re looking very pleased with yourself.’

‘Hmm? Sorry?’ I look up at Joey with wide eyes, because I genuinely didn’t hear what he said there. ‘Did you say something?’

‘I said… it doesn’t matter.’

He waves a dismissive hand around his head and I smile, crossing my legs as I sit at the bar, sipping a cocktail specially made for me by Bam-Bams’ beautiful barman, Chico, a
 
tall, dark Latino boy with cheekbones I’d kill for and a knack for mixing the best drinks I’ve ever tasted.

‘What are you doing down here anyway?’ Joey asks as he surveys his club, packed to the rafters, as usual. It hasn’t taken long for Bam-Bams, New York to become an instant hit.

‘You trying to get rid of me?’

‘I just thought you might, you know, have some work to do. Downstairs.’

I roll my eyes and pull a face, which he pulls right back.

‘If the wind changes you’ll both stay that way,’ Benni says, not looking up from the notebook he’s writing in as he approaches the bar. ‘Here again, Kira?’

‘I’m sorry, am I not welcome in this club or something?’

Benni closes his notebook and leans back against the bar, folding his arms as he joins Joey in checking out the crowd – old and young, gay and straight, flamboyantly dressed and casually chic, Bam-Bams seems to be pulling in quite an eclectic group of people. And it all makes for a fabulous atmosphere. A little different to Bam-Bams back home, but I think New York actually suits Joey better. And Benni. They’ve really slotted into life here.

‘I just assumed you’d be busy downstairs, angel, that’s all,’ Benni continues, signalling to Chico to fetch him a beer. I love Benni. In some ways he’s the complete opposite of Joey. He loves a beer, adores soccer, and hates ‘Strictly Come Dancing’, whereas Joey won’t be seen anywhere near a pint glass, abhors soccer – but I have it on good authority he wouldn’t be averse to a player or two – and he watches ‘Strictly Come Dancing’ almost religiously. Although, it’ll be ‘Dancing With The Stars’ now he’s here in the US. But, despite their differences, he and Benni just fit together. They work. So well.

‘We’ve only just opened.’ I smile at Chico as he hands me a second cocktail, and Joey looks at me. ‘What?’

He raises an eyebrow. ‘You and Blue Eyes had some kind of disagreement?’

‘Far from it.’

‘It’s just not like you two to be separated. You’re usually joined at the hip. Or just joined, actually. Literally, from what I can gather.’

I ignore him. ‘I fancied one of Chico’s cocktails while I wait for things to get going down there, that’s all.’

‘Get going?’

He raises that eyebrow again. He hasn’t actually been down to The Playroom that often in the week since we’ve been open, and part of me thinks that’s because he’s a little nervous to see what actually goes on down there. When we were back in Newcastle, yes, he knew what I did but he never actually saw it going on first hand. Maybe he thinks that coming downstairs, seeing what’s happening, the pictures on the wall; the atmosphere and the mood and the fact I actually go up there on stage and play for the public, I think he finds it all a little too uncomfortable.

‘Come downstairs with me, Joey.’

He looks almost startled at that suggestion, and I glance over at Benni, but he just shrugs. He
has
been downstairs, and seeing me naked; seeing me and Neal together in photographs, fucking and kissing and showing the world what we do together, it just didn’t faze Benni. I think it would faze Joey. He sees me as his little sister, his family. So seeing me like that – I don’t know. But he can’t avoid it forever. Not really. And I don’t want it to become something taboo between us. I think he’s just been too used to keeping what I do – who I can sometimes be – at arm’s length for too long.

‘I’m busy up here, angel. I can’t just go swanning off downstairs to check out your den of debauchery.’

‘Come on.’ I down the rest of my cocktail and slide down from the stool, taking Joey’s hand. ‘You’re coming with me.’

‘Benni, tell her. I’m needed up here.’

‘I think the place’ll survive without you for ten minutes, babe.’

‘Oh, and the next time
you
need some support…’

‘Stop being such a baby,’ I say as I drag him towards the secret stairs that lead down to The Playroom.

‘Even the name makes me uncomfortable… The Playroom…’

‘You’d feel even more uncomfortable if you knew the background to that name.’

‘I thought you said it just came to you?’

‘Yeah, well, sometimes I bend the truth.’

We reach the door that leads into the corridor beside Neal’s office, and Joey hesitates as we start to walk out towards the main body of the club. ‘I’m not a prude, sweetheart. God knows I’m anything but. It’s just that… You’re my baby girl, Kira. And I know – I
know
you look like an angel and behave like a filthy bitch on heat, but… knowing it, and seeing it, they’re two different things.’

I turn to him and smile, reaching out to gently touch his cheek. ‘I know. But you can’t hide away from here forever, Joey.’

‘I can try.’

 
‘Technically, you part-own the place.’

‘Yes, I’m well aware of that, but… take you and Kandi-Ann… It’s one thing doing what you do for one man, but a whole
club
full of people? You’re really OK with that?’

I shrug and lean back against the wall, pushing a hand through my hair. ‘Yeah. I’m fine with that. It’s just what we do, Joey. What I’ve done for over a decade now.’

‘Not for an audience, Kira.’

I shrug again. ‘One man, twenty people, two hundred… it’s all the same. It’s all an audience.’

He looks at me, narrowing his eyes slightly. ‘You’re getting some kind of kick out of this, aren’t you?’

I hold his gaze for a second or two. ‘Maybe.’ God knows what he’d think if he knew how much I still needed to satisfy that urge I have to fuck Neal in front of an audience. The live sex shows here are proving to be incredibly popular. They’re a big draw, be it mixed couples or same sex; solo, two people together or threesomes. Possibly more, we haven’t gone that far yet. But we’re not ruling it out. The people who come here – the regulars we’ve started to form bonds with – they watch those shows with a strange and beautiful calm that I totally understand. There’s nothing perverse or weird about it. Not to us. Not to those of us who know and live in this world.

‘Kira, angel, you’ve got to be careful, sweetheart. I mean it…’

‘Don’t start with the Kandi-Ann warnings again, Joey, OK?’

‘She try touching you off stage yet?’

I look down at my shoes, and I hear him sigh.

‘Kira!’

‘It’s not happening, Joey, alright?

‘Maybe it’s time for her to go home, babe.’

‘People are coming here to see
us
…’

‘So fuck another girl. Does it matter?’

‘Yes, it matters. I don’t just fuck other girls, Joey…’

And that’s true. I haven’t. I don’t want to. I don’t know if
Neal
wants me to. I don’t know whether the only reason he’s OK with it all in the first place is because it’s Kandi-Ann I’m playing with. Because he
knows
her. Because it’s safe.

‘I know that, Kira. And that’s the problem.’

I take his hand and we start moving again.

‘You told Blue Eyes yet?’

‘No.’

‘You should.’

‘
You
tell him, if it bothers you that much.’

‘I swear to God, I don’t know how our friendship’s lasted as long as it has.’

‘I know the feeling…’

I pull him out into the main part of the club, and he stops in his tracks and looks around him, because it’s hard to take your eyes off the place, in all honesty. At first glance it seems just like any other nightclub – people dancing and drinking and talking as music blasts out around them. But then there are the TV screens showing snippets of soft-porn, the dancing going on across all of the stages; women, and men, in various states of undress, playing together, and alone, while some people watch and others just let it go on around them. And the biggest difference of all – the secluded corner at the far end of the club; the place where people can go to indulge their more voyeuristic fantasies. But I’m not sure Joey’s ready for that just yet.

‘Come here. Come on.’

I take his hand again and lead him over to a wall of photographs. Photos of beautiful people doing beautiful things. And some of those photos are of me, alone, and with Neal.

‘Oh, don’t make me look at those, Kira, it’s just too weird.’

‘You’re making such a big thing out of this, do you know that? You’ve seen me naked before.’

‘When you’ve been getting ready to go out, or when I’ve accidentally walked in on you in the shower. I’ve never seen you, y’ know. Like
this
.’

‘There.’ I stop beside a black and white photograph of Neal holding me, his arm loose around my hips, his hand resting low at the base of my spine as he looks right into my eyes. You can’t see anything, even though we’re both naked. And we aren’t even kissing, but it’s such an incredibly hot photograph that I shiver every time I look at it.

‘Hmm. OK. That’s a tasteful one, I’ll give you that… Looks like Brunette Barbie really is a dab hand with the old camera.’ He cocks his head and looks closer, and I can see his eyes are on Neal, they’re not on me. ‘That man is so unbelievably handsome he doesn’t seem real…’

I smile and drag him away, towards another photograph. And this time, although still tastefully shot – all the photographs we display are tastefully shot it’s just that, sometimes, they leave very little to the imagination – this time it’s quite obvious what we’re doing. It’s obvious Neal’s inside me, that he’s fucking me, hard, and I smile because the memory of it happening is still fresh in my mind.

I look at Joey, and he’s got his hand over his eyes.

‘Oh, stop being a baby. I’m a big girl now. What do you think I went out to do every day for the past ten years?’

‘I tried not to think about it, angel. And now you’re shoving it in front of my eyes in all its black and white glory.’

‘You can’t hide away from here forever. You can’t avoid coming down here…’

‘Like I said, I can try.’

I pull his hand away and hold his head, making him look at the photograph. ‘I’m being cruel to be kind here, Joey.’

‘There is
no
logic to that whatsoever… Oh, dear Lord…’

He eventually gives in and looks at the photograph, and I take his hand, feeling his fingers squeeze mine tight.

‘I love him, Joey. I love him so much.’

He smiles, and I squeeze his hand back. ‘I can see that, angel. Literally, as it happens.’

He looks at the photograph again.

‘I never realised just how beautiful you really are, Kira.’

I lean into him, and I am so glad he’s here. Because I need him, more than he realises.