The Night Off (4 page)

Nat smoothed her hand over the stinging flesh surrounding Emily’s nipple. “I told you I’d make you beg for it. Funny, I didn’t realize you’d get there so
quickly.
You really are a dirty, fucking slut.” She ran her gaze down the length of Emily’s naked, soapy body. “It’s going to take more than moaning ‘please, mistress’ like a bitch in heat to convince me to let you come. You’re going to have to do as I say.
Everything
I say.”

“Yes, mistress.” Chest heaving, Emily fought to regain control. They still had a ways to go with this fantasy, and Nat wouldn’t grant her release anytime soon. Her only choice was to enjoy the journey. “Of course.”

“Get out of the tub.”

Emily immediately stood up, then froze when she realized that Nat wasn’t following. She remained seated, staring up at Emily’s body in an unflinching appraisal. Unnerved by the scrutiny, Emily quickly stepped out of the tub before Nat could reprimand her for disobeying. Since Nat hadn’t told her what to do next, she stood, dripping on the rug. Waiting for instruction.

“Towels are next to the sink.” Nat reclined against the back of the tub, looking utterly relaxed. “Get them.”

Shivering, Emily hurried to pick up two fluffy towels. She desperately wanted to shake one out and wrap it around her exposed flesh, but that would be a mistake. When she’d laid out this encounter, she had intended for orgasm denial to function as punishment. That was back when she’d imagined she would be tempted to test limits. But she wasn’t. Right now Nat held all the power, and Emily wanted only to please her.

She offered a towel to Nat. “Would you like me to dry you, mistress?”

Nat chuckled. “She learns fast.” She stood, sending water to sluice down her hard-yet-soft curves. “Sure.”

Hands shaking, Emily unfolded a towel and smoothed it over Nat’s body. She kept her touch light, thrilling at the way Nat’s throat tensed when she brushed over tight nipples. Her breath hitched as the urge to drop the towel and simply touch Nat’s skin threatened to overwhelm her.

“Thank you.” Nat caught her wrist. “That’s enough.” She stepped out of the tub and took the other towel, spinning Emily around to dry her.

Emily bit her lip at the delicious friction created by the plush fabric against her sensitive flesh. Nat’s brusque rubdown made it difficult to stay on her feet. She swayed slightly, then gasped when Nat dropped the towel and wrapped her in a possessive embrace. Body flush against her back, Nat pressed a kiss to the side of her neck.

“Just how long
has
it been?” Capturing Emily’s nipples between her fingertips, Nat twisted until she elicited a high-pitched cry. “Months? Years?”

“Years,” Emily whispered. “Mistress.”

“Almost like being a virgin again.” Nat nipped at her earlobe, dropping a hand to comb through the trimmed hairs between Emily’s thighs. “How exciting for me.”

It took all of her willpower not to spread her legs for Nat. “Yes, mistress.”

“Are you frightened?”

Good question. The answer was yes, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to admit her fear. It had more to do with her pathetic insecurities than the prospect of being fucked, anyway. “I…the anticipation is killing me, mistress.”

Nat grabbed Emily’s pussy, gripping her lightly. “Me, too.” Then she released her and opened the bathroom door. “Come along.”

Emily followed Nat down the hallway to a closed door. Nat caught her hand, pushed open the door, and strode inside an attractively decorated bedroom. The décor was light and casual—nothing like the torture chamber she had envisioned in her most paranoid fantasies of what paying for kinky sex might mean. The familiarity of the bedroom immediately put her at ease.

Until she spotted a table full of sex toys in the corner.

Nat tugged her closer to the bed. “Kneel,” she said, pointing at the rug beside it.

Emily obeyed, trying not to let her eyes stray to the mind-boggling assortment of dildos, paddles, and other gear she’d glimpsed on the way in. Just what was Nat planning to do to her? She’d asked for some strap-on play and spanking, but the dizzying array of toys suggested a far more extensive encounter than she’d paid for. Curiosity piqued, she clenched her fists and waited to see what would happen next.

Nat lifted her right foot to rest on the edge of the mattress, nearly bumping Emily’s chin with her slick, swollen folds. She glanced up into Nat’s face, seeking permission. Rather than speak, Nat placed her hand on the back of Emily’s head and pulled her in roughly.

“Lick me, slut,” Nat growled.

Emily went to work with an enthusiastic moan. She loved performing oral sex, and she was thrilled to be able to make up for lost time. Nat tasted so light and delicious, and despite what seemed like a herculean effort not to react, she was exquisitely responsive. Her entire body quaked every time Emily circled her clit with her tongue.

Nat moved her hand to Emily’s throat and gripped her gently. “Can’t get enough of that, can you?”

Shaking her head, Emily sucked Nat’s clit into her mouth, making her shudder. She brought her hands to Nat’s firm thighs, hanging on, but Nat batted her away.

“Keep your hands behind your back.”

Emily did as Nat commanded, never faltering in her ministrations. She alternated between long, hard licks up Nat’s length and gentle, insistent suction on her distended clit. The trembling of Nat’s thighs intensified with every pass, assuring her that she was most definitely pleasing her mistress. Somehow, that meant everything.

“Fuck.” Nat groaned. “That’s my good girl.” She tangled her fingers in Emily’s hair, forcing her mouth lower. “Put your tongue inside me.”

Angling her head, Emily stiffened her tongue and pushed it into Nat’s opening. Immediately, Nat cried out, reached for her clit, and rubbed hard until she contracted in pleasure. This orgasm was much more unrestrained—and louder—than the first one in the front hallway. Eyes closed, Emily couldn’t suppress a grin at the heady sensation of making her intense, confident mistress come apart at the seams. She’d never felt so powerful.

Abruptly, Nat grasped Emily’s chin and lowered her foot to the ground. Then she stepped away, chest heaving. “I’ll be right back. You…stay right there. And behave.”

“Yes, mistress.” She met Nat’s eyes and swiped her upper lip with her tongue, smiling at the flavor that lingered there. “Thank you. Again.”

“Fuck,” Nat breathed, exhaling in a rush. She ran her gaze over Emily’s body, then shook her head, smoothing a hand over her shaved head. “My pleasure.”

Emily hid her smile until Nat left the room. Once the bedroom door closed, she brought her hand to her chest, overcome by a rush of pure happiness. How incredibly
fun
that had been. How sinfully
hot
. This was exactly what she needed. When she served Nat, nothing else existed. Not the demands of her job or the terrible pressure of raising her younger sister. There was just her body, and Nat’s, and the pleasure of letting go.

Exhaling, she glanced over her shoulder, trying to get a better look at the table full of sexual implements. She itched to investigate while Nat was out of the room. Tonight’s fantasy included strap-on sex, yet another new experience. She couldn’t help wondering what the dildo would look like. How big it would be. Would she really enjoy it?

Even having designed this encounter, Emily felt her anxiety rise as she wondered what would happen next. She’d answered questions and outlined erotic acts and dialogue she wanted to enjoy, but it was up to the agency—and the escort—to bring those elements together to create a uniquely tailored fantasy. That meant that although she knew
what
would happen, generally, she had no idea
when
. Strictly regimented by nature, Emily couldn’t help feeling unsettled about the uncertainty of the evening.

Taking a peek at the toys would at least remove some of her hesitation surrounding the rest of the night. She’d be quick. Nat would never know.

And if she got caught…well, she was pretty sure she could handle her punishment. With pleasure.

Nat Swayne fled the bedroom on rubbery legs. Her first instinct after an orgasm like she’d just had was to collapse on the bed and recover. Since that wasn’t an option, a speedy escape would have to do. She’d actually already planned on leaving the room at this point in the encounter, hoping to give Emily some time to stew in anticipation—and perhaps even disobey the order to stay put. As it turned out, she was the one who needed a moment of respite.

She had just done something completely unplanned, something so far outside her norm that she didn’t know how to feel about it. She’d asked Emily Parker to penetrate her. Sure, it was only her tongue, and yeah, Emily had been on her knees in submission at the time—but still. She didn’t demand that from clients. Ever.

Penetration was something she occasionally enjoyed, but only when she was alone. There was a time when she’d had sex with men for money, and that act was rarely negotiable. She’d never liked how it made her feel. These days, she could choose her clients—women only—and set her own limits, so she no longer did anything that made her feel vulnerable. Being penetrated was an intimacy she had chosen to reserve for someone she genuinely trusted, should that woman ever come along. Despite her admittedly rough past, Nat still held out hope that she would appear.

A half hour with a client wasn’t nearly enough time to build trust, so her impulsive command to Emily baffled her. As good as this particular client was with her mouth, as perfectly cute and sweet as she seemed, Nat didn’t understand why she had so easily lowered her defenses.

On paper, Emily Parker was her dream client. Her sexual turn-ons almost perfectly complemented Nat’s—where she liked taking charge, Emily clearly yearned to have her own sense of control stripped away. Reviewing Emily’s file had actually excited her, which didn’t happen often. The photograph that Janis had taken during their initial appointment revealed a very pretty girl-next-door—blond-haired, brown-eyed, with light freckles spattered across her nose. Nat would notice her across a room, but never approach someone like her.

Emily Parker appeared to be a preschool teacher, or a cupcake decorator in a chic bakery, or something similarly innocent and good-natured. In other words, she appeared to be Nat’s polar opposite. While Nat found that wildly attractive and infinitely exciting, she was fairly certain that a woman like Emily wouldn’t be interested in someone like her—at least not for more than a one-night stand. And as ironic as most people seemed to find it, she wasn’t really into casual sex.

Hoping to walk off her strange lapse, Nat headed for the kitchen. She craved a beer, but would have to settle for water. Drinking was strictly forbidden during work, not that she was much of a drinker, anyway. She’d engaged in her fair share of stupidity as a teenager, but at nearly thirty, she’d outgrown the easy escape of sex and substances.

She pulled two bottles of water out of the refrigerator that Janis kept fully stocked. This condo was one of a few that the Xtreme Encounters agency leased for all-night appointments, and it was a nice place, if a bit more posh than Nat would choose for herself. Her clients seemed to love it, though.

On her way out of the kitchen, she glanced at the counter where she’d left Emily’s file. She reached to pick it up, then stopped. Having already memorized its slim contents—the questionnaire, the health-screening results, the adorable snapshot—she knew it didn’t contain any answers. Nothing in there would tell her why Emily Parker affected her so powerfully.

Asking for penetration hadn’t been her first lapse. The first was in the car, when Emily had asked her name. She never gave her real name to clients. Never, until tonight. It had just fallen out of her mouth, as though her brain were insisting that Emily should know something real about her. She’d surprised herself with the disclosure. Perhaps she’d done it because Emily seemed so nervous. Maybe she’d been trying to comfort a woman who clearly didn’t have a lot of experience with this type of thing. Whatever the reason, revealing something so personal was out of character.

Two extensions of unearned and instinctive trust to a perfect stranger in one night. Nat snorted. She almost felt like a kid again.

Forcing away her slight unease, Nat walked back to the bedroom. There was nothing wrong with telling Emily her name, much less demanding that Emily put her tongue to good use. This was a woman she actually wanted to fuck. She might as well go with her gut and enjoy their evening together. This situation didn’t often arise in her line of work, so she damn sure didn’t plan to let her emotional baggage ruin her good time.

Before entering the room, she quietly placed her hand on the knob and put on her game face. It was possible that Emily was still kneeling on the floor where she had placed her. But if she wasn’t, Nat needed to react swiftly and with confidence. The scene depended upon it. Taking a breath, she threw open the door and stepped inside.

Emily hadn’t disappointed—she wasn’t where Nat had left her. She visibly startled when Nat entered the room, jumping away from the table of toys she had been perusing. Immediately her gaze went to the place where she was supposed to be, then she looked back at Nat, eyes widening. Her genuine surprise and confusion was so cute that Nat wanted to laugh out loud. Moments like these made her glad she’d cultivated some respectable acting skills.

Without smiling, Nat strode across the room and seized Emily’s upper arm in a tight grip. She paid close attention to Emily’s breathing and her body language as she squeezed, gauging her desired pain level. Emily’s fantasy contained elements of BDSM, including spanking, light slapping, and verbal humiliation, but Nat didn’t sense that she wanted to be
hurt
. Nat had worked for clients who got off on real pain, even the drawing of blood, but Emily seemed like a woman who wanted to skirt the edge of actual pain and danger, yet still feel safe. Nat was all too happy to oblige—that was her favorite way to play.

Emily’s lips parted and a tiny gasp escaped, making Nat shiver. The sound triggered clenching pleasure between her legs, and she had to grit her teeth not to react out loud. “Where are you supposed to be?”