Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 94076 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94076 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
I open my eyes with a gasp. My sex is swollen and slick, my breasts so sensitive the flannel chafes them unbearably. I tear off the shirt so quickly that a button pops off.
Topless, I sit panting as heat blooms through me before I kick off my pajama bottoms and slide my fingers between my folds.
My clit only needs a few strokes before my climax sparks and fizzles. I shove a few fingers inside me, needing more stimulation to drive the orgasm on. Make it more satisfying. The pressure on my inner walls feels so good I clamp my legs together for more.
All too soon, the orgasm fades.
I wait for a wave of shame to come, but it doesn’t. Instead, more heat, more need. My clit is itchy, needy.
An orgasm isn’t enough. I need a scene.
It’s too soon. My marks are still there. But unless I go to the club tonight, I won’t be able to rest.
I scissor out of bed and grab my phone. I log on to the kink app and put in a request for a scene. It’s a Wednesday night, so the place will be quiet. I don’t expect my request to be filled, but by the time I’ve changed into clothes for going out, the app chimes. A notification. My request was accepted, and the scene will start in an hour.
I splurge on a taxi so I can get to the club in time. My hair is still damp, so I use the time in the cab to pull it back into a ballerina bun. I’m in a little black dress and black heels, the sexiest pair of shoes I own.
I keep checking the app and the confirmation of the scene. Because I’ve requested anonymity, I can’t see the top’s profile. Usually when I make my request, I also ask that I get a different top from before.
I didn’t request that. And even though the odds are against it. . . I hope it’s him. I’ve never had the same top twice, never wanted to scene with the same partner, but this time, I’m breaking all my careful rules. I can’t fight my desires.
I need to scene with him again.
7
Inara
Like the last time I was here, my scene starts with me blindfolded and facing the cross. But unlike before, I’m not handcuffed and secured there by a club employee. I shift my weight from foot to foot, folding my arms in front of me and then dropping them to hang awkwardly at my sides.
In the darkness, I have nothing to hold onto. The room has its own heating and cooling system, but it’s not fully warmed up. The thermostat read sixty-nine degrees when I came in, and my nipples are hard points in my bra. My heart booms in my chest.
This is a mistake. I shouldn’t have come back so soon. I should go—
I’m about to claw the blindfold from my eyes and run for it when the door behind me swings open, sending a breeze across my back. The scent of expensive cologne washes over me, and my panic drains away.
“Well, this is unexpected.”
Anticipation seizes me by the neck and sends a whole body shiver down my spine.
It’s him. He’s back. He saw my request and answered it. Again. He returned to me.
Deep down, I knew he would.
“What’s unexpected?”
“You. Here. Tonight. Like this.”
I can feel him studying me. His voice tells me he likes what he sees.
I stripped down as soon as I got into the room. The little black dress I threw on is flung over the couch on the right, and I’m not wearing a satin nightie. No, tonight I’m only wearing a bra and slim-cut boyshorts. The fabric covers everything, but they’re flesh-toned, so at first glance, I look like I’m not wearing anything.
It’s not showing much more skin than if I wore the skimpy nightie, but it’s the most naked I’ve been in front of someone in years.
“I thought I’d be brave.”
“You are. Brave.” His voice strokes right between my legs. My inner muscles flutter.
I want to tell him I usually request a different partner each time I come here. That I’ve never been with the same top twice. But then, he’d guess that I want to scene with him again. Offering that information would expose me too much.
That reminds me. . .
“You knew my name.”
“Forgive me,” he says with the confidence of a man used to acting without permission. “I make a point of thoroughly vetting any of my scene partners. For safety purposes. My position requires it.”
His position. In the club? Or in the outside world? Club Empire is the biggest kink club in New Rome and, therefore, one of the biggest and most famous in the world. Rumor has it that politicians and celebrities flock to it, although the strict security keeps their identity a secret.