Every Part of You: Takes Me (#5) (2 page)

Simone didn’t stay.

She crept along the dimly lit hallway a little farther to peek inside some of the other rooms. The scenes were much the same. Pomp and circumstance, ritual and costume, she thought. Toys and props and rules. This wasn’t really her scene.

At the end of the hall, two doors, both open. Inside one, Aidan and Corrina on her knees in front of him, her head bent. Bare shoulders already marked with the lines from his switch. Simone turned away. They would be looking at each other with love in their eyes, and she could not bear it.

The other room was better. Walls lined with books. Comfortable leather couches. Ornate brass lamps with stained-glass shades.

The room wasn’t empty. A young man, a good ten years younger than Simone, waited on his knees in the middle of the room. The rug covering the hardwood floor looked soft enough to make the position reasonably comfortable, but he also looked as though he’d been waiting there a long time. He wore only a pair of tight black boxer briefs. Not leather, nothing fetishistic.

He smiled when she came in, but said nothing. His fingers were linked behind him at the small of his back. His cock was hard.

Vera came in behind her. “Hello, sweetheart. Simone, this is Nick. He’s mine, but if you’d like to play with him, I’m happy to share.”

Simone was no stranger to a world where people shared partners as easily as they swapped tastes off a dessert plate. She wasn’t even put off by the idea of anonymous sex, though it had been a long time since she’d fucked around with someone she didn’t at least know. A stranger, though, might be the only person she could bring herself to fuck. No emotion. No connection. Nothing but pure, physical release.

No risk.

“You could just watch,” Vera whispered.

Simone looked at her. Heat tingled through her, centering low in her belly. Then between her legs. She let out a long, slow breath. “All right.”

“Lovely.”

Vera crossed to a cabinet along the wall, set into the bookshelves so cleverly it was almost hidden. She pulled out a leather crop, swishing it lightly through the air. At each
whoosh
, Nick let out a small, sighing breath. His skin turned into gooseflesh.

He was beautiful.

Vera slid the leather through her fingers and walked around him in a circle. Teasing him. Every so often, she let the crop stroke him. Along his thigh, thick with muscle. His biceps. His chest, where she flicked his nipples until they stood out straight and hard and his cock strained the front of his briefs.

Vera smiled, her gaze focused on Nick, though she spoke to Simone. “Isn’t he beautiful? My beautiful boy. Watch, Simone. Watch how he takes it.”

Simone watched, throat going dry as Vera left her stripes on Nick’s back. One after the other, perfectly in a row. She murmured instructions to him as she worked. To count, to breathe, to let her hear not only his pain, but his pleasure, too. Vera didn’t make him get naked, though honestly, Simone had begun wishing to see if Nick’s cock was as perfect as the rest of him. She’d taken a seat on the couch, the seam of her jeans rubbing deliciously against her clit every time she leaned forward to get a closer look.

Vera paused and tenderly stroked Nick’s sweat-soaked hair back from his forehead. She caught one of his tears on her fingertip and held it out to his mouth, where he lapped it from her fingertip. She cupped his face in her hands, looking into his eyes as again she addressed Simone.

“Would you like to try?”

Startled, Simone sat up. “You want me to beat him.” It wasn’t a question, though it did make her wonder what Aidan had told Vera about her.

Vera smiled gently and stroked a hand over Nick’s hair. He leaned into her touch, eyes closed, face still creased with pain though Simone knew from experience that the sharpness would have faded into a throbbing ache by now. Vera tipped his chin toward her with one fingertip and looked at him thoughtfully before turning to Simone.

“It might be good for you.”

Simone frowned and got off the couch. “You don’t even know me.”

“Don’t be offended, sweetheart, I’m just speaking from experience.” For a moment, Vera’s expression clouded. Her fond gaze turned icy. She sank her fingers into Nick’s hair and pulled hard enough to yank him forward so that he had to unlink his hands from where they’d gone back behind him. “Get up. Take off your briefs.”

Simone took a step back, her heart pounding a little faster. “Vera. You don’t have to…”

Vera glanced at Simone, her earlier smile gone. “I don’t have to. I want to. And I think you’d like him to give you pleasure, as well. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”

“I came to Briar because my ex-lover sent his new lover to drag me out and force me,” Simone said bluntly.

“Funny. The way he described you, I’d never have taken you for a woman who’d readily deny herself something she could have so easily.” To Nick, who’d obediently stripped out of his briefs and set them to one side, Vera said, “Simone would like you to kiss her.”

Simone backed up another step, a hand out to stop him from coming closer. “Wait a minute.”

Nick, naked, cock thick and lovely and tapping his belly, stopped at once. He gave Vera a curious look, and she went around him to stroke his ass. His thighs. His chest. When she got to his nipples, she pinched suddenly and cruelly, until he moaned.

Simone’s nipples tightened in sympathy, and there was an answering tug of arousal between her legs. Vera looked at her. She stroked Nick’s cock lightly, then cupped his balls. He didn’t quite flinch—obviously he’d been trained better than that, but his muscles tensed and he bit his bottom lip in anticipation of the pain his mistress was at the moment withholding.

“Nick can make you forget your hurt, if only for a little while. He has a very clever tongue and a very pretty cock. And you can hurt him,” Vera added in a whisper, stroking, stroking, stroking until Nick shuddered and lifted slightly onto his toes. Then she squeezed him just behind the head of his prick and he went still. “You can hurt him as much as you have to.”

“I don’t want to hurt him,” Simone whispered, tasting the lie like acid.

Vera laughed under her breath. “Oh, honey. I think you do. Kiss her, Nick.”

Nick paused, waiting respectfully for permission. This time, Simone gave it. The feeling of his lips on hers was at first so shockingly unfamiliar, so different than Elliott’s kisses had been, that she wanted to recoil. In the next moment, Nick’s hand cupped the base of her skull, fingers curling against her skin, and rising pleasure washed away the memory of that other man’s mouth.

She would forget him.

Erase him.

Simone opened her mouth, giving Nick her tongue. He took it, sucking gently. She could feel his hard prick between them, but he didn’t grind her against him. Waiting for her permission again? Simone slid her hands down to cup Nick’s ass, feeling the muscles bunch and flex under her touch.

“Very nice.” Vera had settled herself onto the couch, one long leg crossed over the other, her hands linked on a knee. She leaned forward to watch. “Nick. Take off her shirt now, and get your mouth on her lovely tits.”

And oh, how he did. He licked and sucked and nibbled, always repeating what made Simone sigh and moan, changing what she didn’t respond to. He backed her carefully to the couch and eased her down so he could kneel between her legs, his focus still on her breasts and nipples until Simone arched and shuddered beneath him.

“Eat my pussy,” she ordered, breathless, voice cracking. She lifted her hips, already undoing the button and zipper to help him peel the jeans off.

In moments, she was bare, her ass sticking to the leather couch and one leg propped on Nick’s shoulder while he bent to feast on her. Simone was vaguely aware of Vera murmuring commands to him from her place on the other side of the sofa, but Simone ignored her.

This felt too fucking good.

Sex had always been her escape. When she’d first discovered the joys of what her hands could do late at night in the quiet of her room, she’d spent hours learning what made her body sing. Later, when boys had started trying to do the same things, she’d already known what got her off and had been able to show them. But she’d learned, too, how amazing it could be when another person was touching her. Stroking, licking, sucking, biting.

“Oh, fuck,” she muttered as Nick flickered his tongue, fast as a hummingbird’s wings, against her clit. “Bite me.”

He took instruction well and immediately, moving his mouth to the soft, sensitive inner flesh of her thigh and pressing his teeth there. The pain was brief but exquisite. Her hands found his hair, the full thickness of it, and this, too, was different from Elliott. She reveled in it, digging her nails into his scalp to urge him back to her pussy.

If Vera was still telling Nick what to do, Simone didn’t hear her. All she could hear was the pound of her own heart and the rasp of her breathing, along with his soft, panting moans. His hands moved up her thighs, pressing the spots he’d bitten. He pinched her there, hard, and Simone surged against him. She was lost, lost, everything was lost in the feeling of his mouth and hands on her, his fingers sliding deep inside her. His tongue stroked her clit in a steady, perfect rhythm.

“Get on your back. On the floor,” she ordered, and he did at once. She fit her cunt to his mouth, her knees on either side of his head, pressing the soft carpet. Simone rocked against his lips and tongue. His hands came up to grip her ass.

She was going to come, yes. Absolutely. The release teased her. Taunting, until at last her orgasm ripped through her and left her shaking and panting. She came back to herself slowly, easing off Nick’s face to straddle his belly. His cock nudged between them, pressing her clit. Simone blinked and breathed, licking her mouth to taste sweat. He smiled at her, making no move to urge her onto his dick or in any other way satisfy himself.

“Get up,” Simone said in a voice that didn’t sound like her own.

She got off him. Nick got to his feet. Simone took his cock in her hand and stroked it once, twice, watching his face. He bit his lower lip, but made no move to touch her.

“He’s good,” Vera said from behind them. “Isn’t he?”

Simone’s orgasm had been pleasure; no doubt about that, it had left her spent and sated. But not satisfied. The stillness she needed inside her wasn’t there. Sex had always been a gift, but this time she’d been left as empty as before.

Vera had moved up behind her while Simone studied Nick—his broad, muscled chest, smooth and warm. His ridged belly. His lovely prick. Now the other woman’s breath caressed the back of Simone’s neck.

“It’s okay,” she said in a low voice, pressing the crop into Simone’s hand. “He wants it. You understand how that feels. You can give him what he needs and wants, maybe better than anyone, yes? Because you know.”

Simone did understand. She took the crop from Vera’s hand and tested the weight of it in her own. She might not be entirely clear on the desire to
give
pain, but she was absolutely crystal on the technique. “Turn around. Hands on the wall.”

Nick did as she said without hesitation. Without so much as a flinch. He stood with his hands at shoulder height, fingers slightly spread on the cream plaster. His bare toes curled against the hard wood bared by the edge of the rug.

“Do you want this?”

“Yes,” Nick said in a voice that reminded Simone so much of her own. “Please.”

For the first time, Simone understood how it felt to be on the other side of the crop. “Safe word?”

“Melancholy,” Nick said with a glance over his shoulder.

“Melancholy,” Simone repeated, tasting each syllable. She closed her eyes briefly, the pain in her heart flaring again. She knew all about melancholy.

And now she would learn how it felt to lose herself in someone else’s pain instead of her own.

“Let me show you,” Vera breathed unexpectedly into Simone’s ear. Her breasts pressed Simone’s back. Her hand slid along Simone’s arm to cover her wrist, helping her to swing the crop. “Like this.”

Nick gave a low cry at the first blow, but didn’t move. Simone watched the red welt rise on his tawny skin and felt the answering pull of arousal inside her. Vera stepped away from her. Simone again hefted the weight of the crop.

She hit him again.

This time, Nick jerked. He moaned. His hips thrust forward a little, then stilled.

“Turn around,” Simone ordered again. “Put your back against the wall.”

She hadn’t made him bleed; there would be no mess. But there would be pain as he pushed his aching back to the plaster. He obeyed immediately, hands going flat on the wall. His cock rose proudly, tapping his belly as his chest rose and fell with his rapid breathing. Sweat had broken out on his brow.

Simone spit into her palm to lube him as she stroked. Hard. Nick closed his eyes, hips thrusting.

“Open your eyes,” she demanded, gripping him just behind the head. To Vera, she said, “Is he allowed to come?”

Vera laughed, low and husky. “Oh, I think so, if you want him to. Nick’s been a very good boy.”

Simone drew in a breath. Red haze tickled the edges of her vision, though not as though she were going to pass out. No, this was something different. This was power filling her.

“Stroke yourself,” she ordered him. “I’m going to beat you while you do it. Do not come until I give you permission. Do you understand?”

His hand was already on his cock, jerking it slowly. He looked her in the eyes. “Yes.”

“Let me watch you spurt,” Simone muttered and drew back her arm.

Nick let out a muffled grunt as the first blow came down across his chest, but his fist never stopped pumping. Again and again Simone struck him, turning his flesh a delicious shade of striped pink, and all the while his hand never ceased moving even when his knees bent. He looked unsteady for a moment, and Simone paused, breathing hard, but Nick didn’t ask her for the safe word.

His cock had gone purple from his attentions, because each time she sensed him getting close to climax, she struck him on the chest or thighs. Now his entire body was tense and shaking as she tickled his balls with the head of the crop. Her clit throbbed, but she didn’t touch herself. She didn’t have to. All Simone had to do was watch Nick stroke that beautiful cock and stop when she told him to.