he Alpha Men's Secret Club 2: Desire Games (3 page)

5

But Kate was nothing if not bold.

She had never been the sort to be
outwardly daring. Hers was the way of lurking around in the shadows. But she had
been doing a lot of things she never thought she would be doing before, and she
certainly wasn’t going to stop now – no matter how out of her depth she
felt.

The limo pulled away, leaving her
all alone outside the swanky apartment building with its canopied doorway and
liveried doorman.

She smiled at him. He smiled
back.

“Are you Ms Kate Penney?” he
said.

“Yes.”

“I have been instructed by Mr.
Rust O’Brien to escort you upstairs to his penthouse.”

She lifted her chin in
excitement.

“Sure,” she said, more
confidently than she felt.

The inside was even more luxe
than she thought it would be. The reception was covered with a plush carpet
which allowed her heels to sink in comfortably. The ceiling wore a chandelier
which must have cost half her house back in Omaha.

The doorman led her past the
elevator bank to the side – to a private elevator. He pressed the button
and the door slid open.

“After you, Miss.”

She stepped in, feeling
discomfited by the whole princess-ey treatment. Was the doorman aware that she
wasn’t wearing panties?

The doors slid close with a hiss.
The doorman swiped a card and pressed the top button: ‘20’. She saw her own
reflection in the chromed fittings of the elevator’s interior –
pale-faced and a little too avowed for her taste. She resembled a fish out of
water. Her dress was cheap by standards like these, although it was the most
expensive thing in her wardrobe. Her stockings were cheap, and her shoes were
cheap.

She felt like a cheap whore being
ushered upstairs for a night of unbridled lust.

“Has he lived in this building
long?” she asked the doorman.

“Who? Mr. O’Brien?”

“Yes.”

“As long as I’ve been here,
though that isn’t saying much, Miss. I’ve been working here for two years,
tops.”

“Oh.” There was so much she
wanted to ask the doorman, but she didn’t know where to begin. Things like: ‘Have
you shown plenty of women upstairs to his penthouse?’

The elevator went ‘ping’ and the
doors slid open. They had arrived.

“Go ahead, Miss.” The doorman
held his hand out.

She stepped out of the elevator.
The passageway ahead was dimly lighted and covered with the same plush carpet
as downstairs. The doorman overtook her and led her to the first double doors
on their right. She looked up at them. They were gleaming wood and imposing.

The doorman produced a large
brass key and unlocked one of the doors. He opened it.

“You can go right in, Miss.”

“He gives you a key?”

“Sometimes. When he’s not around,
I have to water his plants. And there are plenty of them inside.”

Ah, really? Every tidbit she
learned about Rust was savored and treasured like the precious morsels they
were. How little she knew about him! And how truly miserable it was to be in
love and lust with man who wanted to remain an enigma to her.

She wondered if the doorman was a
shifter, but it didn’t seem appropriate to ask. She stepped inside, and he did
not follow.

“He’s not in?” she said.

“I don’t know, Miss. I only do as
I’m told.” He gave her an envelope. “He told me to give you this. Good night,
Miss.”

He bowed and went back the way he
came.

She closed the door after him, and
then glanced at the envelope. It was tiger embossed – the same with the
rest. She was torn between wanting to rip it open and exploring the penthouse
ahead. Everything was lighted up with a soft golden glow, and the hallway was
richly decorated with lamps and collected curios on half-moon tables. At the
end of the passageway was the glimpse of an inviting lounge.

But what if he had a task for
her, and he was watching her from somewhere to see what she would do?

It was ridiculous to be on
tenterhooks for a man – to be so in thrall with him that she was afraid
that one false step would lead to the end of their so-called relationship. And
yet here she was – mired in the murk of her own making.

She tore the envelope open and
read the note:

‘DARLING KATE’.

(
He called me darling!
she
thought.)

YOU HAVE BEEN A VERY GOOD GIRL SO
FAR. NOW GO TO THE THIRD ROOM ON YOUR LEFT. FOLLOW INSTRUCTIONS THERE.

RUST.’

Third room on her left.

She walked and counted three
closed doors before pausing at the third. It was a door like any other, and she
didn’t think his bedroom would be downstairs. This was a penthouse, wasn’t it?
Penthouses tended to have two floors.

She tested the doorknob. It was
in the shape of a club. She wondered if that had any significance. Still, it
turned and allowed the door to open noiselessly.

Kate’s mouth dried when she saw
what was in the room.

6

The room was nothing like any she
had ever seen.

The walls were completely covered
with mirrors, and so was the ceiling. Chains dangled from the ceiling, along
with cuffs and straps and hooks. It was a bondage chamber – one where she
could see herself reflected many times over.

A single stool stood in the
middle of the room upon a white tiled floor. Upon it was a large silver
vibrator.

A message was written in red on
one of the mirrors:

YOU HAVE MADE IT SO FAR, DARLING
KATE!

 NOW TAKE OFF ALL YOUR CLOTHES. I
WANT TO SEE YOU PLEASURE YOURSELF WITH THE VIBRATOR.

RUST.’

Pleasure herself with the
vibrator? Was he watching from behind the mirrors then? She envisioned him
behind the two-way mirror, like the ones in a police interrogation room,
watching her. Or else, he wasn’t there, but a camera recorded her every move
and transmitted them to his covetous eyes.

The thought of that was
salacious. She would be the performer for his private viewing.

She began to shed her little
black dress, and then her black brassiere – the one she had worn to tempt
him – and her shoes and stockings. Since she knew he would be watching
– either live or in recorded time – she made her movements slow and
deliberate.
Teaser. Temptress
. Two words she would not have used to
describe herself a month ago.

Once she was completely naked,
she went to the stool and took the vibrator. Where would he be seated? She
instinctively faced the mirror panel with the red message. He used red ink. She
narrowed her eyes. No, on second glance, he used lipstick. Lipstick on a
mirror. Was that a psychological message? Where did he get that lipstick? Whose
was it?

Her demons were threatening to
overwhelm her again, and she suppressed them. Put a lid on them and clammed it
up. This was a special day for both of them. Her first viewing of his
apartment. She shouldn’t muck it up with imaginary fears and petty jealousies.
After all, he never promised her a rose garden.

She seated herself on the stool,
facing the lipstick mirror.

Are you watching me, Rust? Do
you desire me, even though I am not beautiful? But am I beautiful to your eyes?

The vibrator was long and thick,
and she could see her slender reflection on it. She found the little switch and
turned it on. A strong vibration immediately ensued with an audible
Whirrrrrrrrrr
.
A delicious thrill coursed down her spine and into her loins at the sound of it.
Her pussy flowered immediately with the contraction of need.

She opened her legs. She imagined
Rust looking at the area between them because she could clearly see herself too
in the mirror. Her pussy was shaven, the way he liked it, and her clit was a
petal between the two cloves of her pink labia. Her pussy hole was already
creaming. She was very wet. She wondered if he could see the whitish dew drops
pooling at her sweetly gaping hole.

She threw back her head. A warm
flush was beginning to spread down from her cheeks to her neck and breasts. She
was half-embarrassed to be doing this for an audience of one. Such hussy-like
behavior, but apparently, he liked hussies. She spread her thighs wider and
scooted her buttocks lower, so that she (and he) could get an eyeful of her
entire pussy, right up to the puckering mouth of her anus.

Rust . . . I need you.

She pressed the whirring vibrator
against her breasts. Her nipples began to fill, and a rosy tinge brushed the
skin around her areolas. Her entire chest lifted as she breathed in deeply. She
should throw her inhibitions away – not think consciously of what she was
doing, but of how much both she and Rust were deriving pleasure from this.

The vibrator moved downward
– down the slope of her breasts to touch her engorged nipples, which
became even more engorged. Then down, down the shoal of her midriff –
which was too filled out, in her opinion – and further down to the shoal
of her pussy; that greedy, quivering organ.

Ohhhh
.

When the vibrator touched the tip
of her clit, she almost combusted. Her natural lust took over, and she rubbed
the vibrator up and down her swollen clit, pressing it more forcefully downward
so that it would get the full brunt of the stimulations.

Up, down, up down.

She moved the slender machine up
in between her labia, teasing out her inner petals – the ones which were
most intimate and tender. The vibrator dipped into the pool around her pussy
hole and gathered the juices there. Then it wavered upward again to spread that
luscious stickiness to her clit and pussy grooves.

She did this oscillatory thing
– up and down, up and down, round and round, round and round –
until all her parts were jointly stimulated and massaged to orgasmic
distraction. She concentrated primarily on her clit.

She wanted to cum for Rust,
wherever he was. She wanted to have an explosive climax for his pleasurable
viewing. The seat of the stool was getting pretty warm and wet with her
squirming. She worked herself up, further up, until she was reaching for a peak
– a summit of intense, blinding proportions. Her breathing was very harsh
and she had lost track of time and how long she had been pleasuring herself
–

Rust!

Please . . .

Love me . . .

She heard the almost
imperceptible creak of the door as it opened. Oh, but she was going to cum! Her
eyes flew wide open and she saw the shadow of the creature filing in
noiselessly, majestically.

The tiger slid into the room of
mirrors. She was so startled that she almost dropped the vibrator.
Oh, talk
about orgasmus interruptus
! But maybe he didn’t want her to cum. Or he
wanted to be there in person to watch her cum.

The tiger was immense, graceful.
His glorious striped coat flowed over his sleekly moving musculature. His eyes
were emerald green and extremely intelligent as he padded into the room towards
where she was seated upon the stool.

She froze.

She never knew how to react when
Rust was in his tiger state. She never really knew who he was in his shifted
aspect. Was he more animal than human? Did he retain all his mental faculties?
She was always careful in the presence of great animals. Careful and
deferential. She never knew how
they
would react towards her.

A low rumble thundered from the
tiger’s chest – one which sent her senses tingling. A frisson of fear
spiked up inside her. She was always afraid of Rust when he was like this. What
if she did something which displeased him? What if he was taken over by his
animal instincts and wanted to devour her instead?

She had no idea then how close
she would be to the truth.

The vibrator hummed in her hand,
its low whirr a constant. The breath was stoppered in her throat and she
scarcely dared to breathe. It was all she could do to watch him as he came up
in front of her. The mirrors showed multiple reflections of her naked self and
the tiger – a contrast of human skin and orange-and-black striped fur. The
hair on her flesh stood on end. There was a crackle of electricity in the room.
Of heightened anticipation.

The tiger stared at her. He
stared at her face, and then his eyes roamed to her breasts and down to her
open red pussy with its leaking hole. All thought froze in her mind. She could
only be an anticipatory receptive vessel, completely subject to his whims.

Then the tiger transformed.

His limbs became more slender,
and his rich, thick coat regressed into naked human skin. His facial bones and
skull rearranged themselves and became Rust’s superlatively handsome face with
its high cheekbones and full, sensual lips.

Rust crouched before her, fully
naked and magnificent. His cock was very hard and erect. It pointed at her like
an accusing finger. He straightened himself soon enough and reared to his full
height.

She gazed up at him in wonder. So
many questions on her lips. There was a conflict on his face – of
restraint, of confusion – but he composed himself soon enough.

She wondered what he was
thinking.

Were you watching me as I
pleasured myself?

Have you brought me here
because you have decided to make me yours?

He held out his hands.

“Kate,” he said, smiling.

The fact he was smiling gladdened
her heart.

She was still holding the
vibrator, and she hastily turned it off and put it down onto the floor. Then
she took his large and very warm hands and let him raise her to her feet. Her
legs were shaky, and she wobbled, but he steadied her.

“Kate.” His voice was sensual and
smoky. He was still smiling as he drew her towards him so they were body to
body, breasts to the lower part of his hard chest.

He bent his head down to kiss
her. His lips touched hers, and she was floored. His kiss was always
electrifying and this one was no different. Full lips sealed upon full lips.
His tongue parted her lips firmly and darted into her mouth. She let him
explore her mouth, their tongues intertwining and interlocking. He sucked in
her breath and the sweetness of her mouth, and she breathed in his scent.

The kiss seemed to go on and on,
until she was drowning in him. She couldn’t recall him ever having kissed her
so passionately before.

His mouth soon left hers and
dipped down to her neck. He sucked in the skin of her neck, leaving love bites
all the way down her throat. Her skin was flushed and very warm. Her arteries
throbbed at the sides of her neck, pulsating with life. His mouth crept down to
her sternum and then to the curve of her breasts.

Suck my nipples
, she
wanted to moan to him.
Take them in your mouth and suck them till I can feel
it in the soles of my feet!

But his hands caught both her
wrists suddenly.

She gasped at his about-turn. She
gazed into his eyes. His green eyes were now harder and commanding.

He brought up her wrists in
between their bodies and held both of them in one of his hands. He was so very
strong, and she was helpless. Somehow, this thrilled her even more.

“Kate,” he murmured, “I won’t
hurt you . . . unless you want me to.”

Holding her wrists in this
manner, he brought her arms up to where a leather cuff dangled from the
ceiling. He clasped her wrists with these fur-lined cuffs. She was almost on
her toes as her arms were strung from a chain in the ceiling. She could see
herself in the mirrors – a naked captive. Alluring and beautiful in her
captivity.

Rust seemed to think so too. His
nostrils flared as he breathed in sharply.

“You are beautiful,” he said.
“Look at you. Just look at you.”

He went behind her and slid his
hands around her waist. He locked eyes with her in the mirror. His erection prodded
her buttocks. He started to caress her breasts and her waist.

“Beautiful,” he kept murmuring.
His green eyes glittered with appreciation.

She saw herself in his gaze and
her soul expanded with his desire.
He finds me beautiful.
How important
that was to her – she who had never considered herself beautiful.

“I want to fuck you,” he said
into her ear. “God, how much I do want to fuck you.”

His hand went down to her pussy
and he parted her leaves. His fingers rubbed against the soft, extremely tender
nub of her clit. The tendrils of pleasure exploded from her groin to swarm her
entire pussy.

She was so wet. So very wet down
there.

“Please . . . fuck me,” she
moaned.

“Should I use a condom?” he
teased.

He was so beautiful in the
mirror. Such a splendid specimen of a man. He stood as tall and proud as a god
behind her, and his hands were on her pussy – opening her up like a
flower, stimulating and caressing her most intimate recesses and edges of
flesh.

“No,” she whispered. “You don’t
have to use a condom. Not anymore. Not with me.”

She would give this gift to him,
and she could only pray he would not betray her.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“But maybe I should open you up
more,” he said.

He moved away. Then he went to
her side and grasped her right leg. She gasped as he raised it to the level of
another leather cuff. He imprisoned her ankle in this, so that she was dangling
most uncomfortably on three upraised limbs now. Then he did the same with her
other angle with another leather cuff on her other side.

She was now suspended from the
ceiling by the chains and cuffs. Her pussy and asshole were prominently
displayed. If she peered downward, she could see her glistening flesh, leaking
with white pussy juices.

He moved in front of her. His
cock was so hard it was almost upright.

“Kate,” he murmured.

His cock nudged and eased itself
between her sopping folds. Then he pushed. His penis cleaved her vaginal tunnel
easily – she was so wet. His hard flesh rushed into her and expanded her
with startling suddenness.

She cried out at the pleasure and
pain of his impalement.

He grabbed her buttocks to steady
her against his body. Then he began to thrust into her. Short, sharp bursts of
energy followed by longer and more measured pumps. She never had his naked
flesh inside her before, and the sensation was both stunning and thrilling.

He fucked her and fucked her. His
fucking ferocity had always been incredible. His cock pounded and stroked her,
and there was a particular spot he was angling for. Her G-spot. That little
curvature of flesh at the back of her vagina wall, just below her cervix. When
her cries and moans indicated he had hit the spot, he anchored her more firmly
than ever and cored into her more aggressively than before.