Her wide eyes meet mine. “I thought… I thought there was something wrong with me. I can’t believe I didn’t… I completely squandered my youth.” She says the last part petulantly, with a bit of self-deprecation.
I can’t stop my grin. “You squandered nothing. You are still so young.” I rub her arm.
She catches my hand, squeezing and locking our fingers together. “Dimitri—that was wonderful.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” She’s so vulnerable, and I should stay away, but something about her—I feel alive. And I haven’t felt that way in a long, long time.
Her black lashes flutter and she lifts her incredible eyes to mine. “I want more.”
And she leans in and kisses me.
It’s the most chaste kiss ever. Just a light touch of our lips. But it sends fire sizzling through my veins, scorching and destroying everything in its wake.
Gwen
Dimitri’s lips are so soft and perfect, I can’t help but sigh against them. My tongue darts out, dancing over his mouth, little licks begging him to lose control. His shoulders stiffen and his hands clamp on my hips. He draws me back, gently but firmly.
“That’s enough, pet.” His face is close to mine; our breath intermingles. His eyes are darker than they were before.
“You don’t want me?” I try to be flippant but my voice comes out small and sad.
His brows knot. “It’s not that. I want you too much.”
I straddle him and roll my hips, rubbing my naughty girl parts against his bad boy parts. I feel so wild and free. It was never like this with Chad—for obvious reasons. But an hour with Dimitri, and he’s introduced me to a whole new world. Sweet pain and explosive pleasure. My bottom is hot and throbbing in tandem with my pussy. I’m wetter and hotter than I’ve ever been.
“Gwen,” he groans.
“Please, Sir,” I beg as prettily as I can. “I need this.” I slide a hand between us. My fingers find the hard ridge of his cock. My insides somersault. I tentatively cup the monster in his pants.
His big hand comes up and fists in my hair. “You’re being bad,” he breathes against my lips. But he doesn’t sound like he hates it.
“I’m a bad girl,” I inform him. I wriggle until my dress is no longer caught between us. I’m rubbing my pussy directly on his dark pants. I’m leaving a stain. I’m so naughty.
“You are bad. And I’m going to teach you a lesson.”
Squee!
He rises and then somehow, I’m over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. I squeal, kicking, even though there’s no place I’d rather be. His hand clamps down onto my bottom. I duck my head, letting my hair cover my face. I know everyone in the club heard me. They can see everything that's going on, but if I close my eyes, I can pretend I don't know that.
Dimitri carries me only a few steps before halting.
“Everything all right here?” a deep voice interjects.
Dimitri turns so I’m hanging closer to whoever asked the question. “Ask the lady.”
I flush so hard, it's a wonder my cheeks don’t burst into flame. “All good, Sir,” I squeak. I don’t open my eyes.
“Very good.” Mr. Deep Voice chuckles. It makes me feel good that someone in the club would check on me, even though I’m so embarrassed I want to disappear.
Dimitri chuckles as he carries me across the club. “You’re giving everyone quite the show. By all means, fight me harder. If you kick enough, they’ll see up your dress.”
God, I am so humiliated. And turned on.
When he lets me down, we’re in another corner of the club, nearer to the giant X cross. Dimitri lays me right on the floor and, with a gentle but firm grip in my hair, tugs me so I rise to my knees before him.
“Look what you did.” He points to his crotch. His cock presses against the fabric. More than that, there’s a shiny smear on the dark material—slick evidence of my arousal. I want to cover my face with my hands.
Instead, I lick my lips.
“You naughty thing.” Dimitri tugs my hair. “I should make you lick it off.”
I’m panting with humiliation, but oh, so wet.
He smirks at me. Was ever a grin so evil and beautiful? “Maybe later. I find I want to see more marks on your perfect skin. But first, you need to be naked.”
I swallow. “All right.”
He studies my face, gauging my reluctance and my consent.
“Arms up, little one.” I obey, and he draws the dress over my head. I automatically cross my arms over my chest. I’m practically naked in a white thong and bralette, on my knees before a tall, handsome stranger. I don’t know who I am right now, or what I’m becoming—but I love it.
If Dimitri doesn’t want me to cover my chest, he doesn’t say anything. He folds my dress and sets it on a chair. Then he leans down, cupping my cheek as he whispers in my ear, “You're doing so well, Gwen.”
“Thank you, Sir.” My breath hitches. A part of me wants to call him Master. What is happening to me?
“I promised you a taste of this world. And I’m going to give it to you. You’ve felt the palm of my hand. But I wonder how you will enjoy other implements?” He gestures towards the wall beside us. He’s still gripping my hair, and he uses it to turn my head. I look, and nearly pass out.
The whole wall is covered with the craziest implements. Wooden canes of all thicknesses and lengths, multicolored paddles—some wooden, others black or colored plastic or rubber, some with holes and some without, one with the word Daddy engraved on it. Leather floggers in sizes small to large, in black and red and purple. Riding crops, whips, chains, and a pair of giant furry gloves tipped with metal claws.
Mind. Blown.
“Come.” Dimitri tugs on my hair, pulling me forward. I start to rise and he places a hand between my shoulder blades. “No, no, my dear. Time to crawl.”
I bite my lip but let him guide me to the wall on my hands and knees. His suit-clad legs lead the way. He uses my hair like a leash. My thoughts swirl as I crawl like an animal behind him. I’m too overwhelmed to know how I feel about it, but one thing’s certain: I am so very wet.
When we reach the wall, he stops and I sit back on my haunches. Dimitri studies my face carefully. I get the feeling he’s more in tune with what I’m feeling than I am.
“Lady’s choice,” he says. I stare up at the wall. From this vantage point, the wall is less overwhelming. Or maybe I’m sinking into a mindspace where I don’t care what happens to me, as long as Dimitri leads.
“Choose one,” he commands softly.
I kneel up and point to what looks like a coil of black leather rope.
“A dragon tail. Oh, darling, that’s for true pain sluts.” But he takes it off the wall, along with a few other implements.
“Come, pet.” He walks away without a backwards glance, expecting me to follow. I crawl behind him and wait as he lays the implements out on a table. He leans down and clamps a hand on the back of my neck, maneuvering me onto a low bench. There’s a padded shelf for my knees, and an angled part that supports my torso. Dimitri guides me up and over. My hair falls over my shoulders, my head pointing to the floor. The angle leaves my ass high in the air. A perfect target.