Mutual Release (18 page)

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Authors: Liz Crowe

Tags: #General Fiction

BOOK: Mutual Release
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“Put that on,” he said, pointing to the strap-on cock. “I want you to fuck her so I can watch.” The girl took off her skirt and fastened the device around her waist and between her legs.

Evan walked around behind the bound girl and tugged her arms up, pinching her nipples hard while the second girl leaned in to kiss her. Evan’s cock pounded in time with his heart as he turned her around to face him, pulling her down over the bench. The first girl whimpered around her gag but spread her legs, and Evan watched, mesmerized by the sight of the long, thick dildo sliding in and out.

The girl doing the fucking looked up at him, her own need clear in her eyes. Evan gave girl number one a final hard tweak of the nipples and unbuckled his belt. Girl number two’s eyes widened at the sight of him walking around to join her. “Faster,” he said over the loud din of the music. “Fuck her harder. Or you don’t get this.” He fisted his cock, staring as the girl on the bench’s skin flushed red and she started to move her hips and arch her back.

The smell of female lust swirled around his head as he held out a hand for a condom. He flicked his belt, smacked girl number two with it several times, raising lovely red lines along her back and ass. She dug her fingers into the other girl’s hips and pounded into her. He put his hand in her hair and pulled. Leaning over her, he stretched the condom down over his aching flesh, flooded her ass with lube, and slid in, inch by glorious, tight inch. He held back, waiting, until girl number one came, loudly. He bent girl number two further over, reaching down to unhook the first girl’s gag.

“Get up,” he growled, unbuckling the strap-on as he continued to grind into the vise-grip of the second girl’s ass. The dildo fell to the floor. “Finger-fuck her pussy and suck her clit, now.” The first girl dropped to her knees and did as she was told. Girl number two yowled and whipped her head back. Evan grabbed her hair, pulling hard, using it as leverage to grind in and out of her. He’d never considered himself a back-door man, until Felicia had taught him how to do it right. Get in and stay in, don’t pound, just let the tight rings of muscle grip you while you make your partner come, hard. The pulsing and spasms of her orgasm translate to your mind-blowing climax.

He watched, and listened, and felt, and at the last minute he exploded, yelling, hips jerking so hard he nearly shoved them all over onto the floor in a heap. His breath calmed, and he slid out of her ass slowly, knowing from experience that it hurt, before collapsing into a conveniently provided large leather chair, gasping for breath.

The two subs lay entangled on the floor, still kissing and stroking each other while he watched, amused and satisfied. The sound of applause made him look up. Sophie stood, clapping her hands, her full lips red and moist. He grinned and tugged off the condom, using a warm towel someone handed him to clean himself up. He helped the girls off the floor, unbound the first one, and sent them away with hard smacks to their asses. Then he turned, crooked a finger, and watched as his boss ascended the steps to the stage. They stood, eyeballing each other, both breathing heavily.

“Impressive.” She looked down. For a guy who’d just released what felt like a gallon into the condom not five minutes before, his cock would still qualify as a diamond-cutter. He flinched when she fisted him. “A very hot show. Thank you.”

“No, thank you, I guess.”

“Oh, I’m gonna get my payback, Adams. Right fucking now.” She snapped her fingers and a St. Andrew’s cross was rolled out. “This,” she touched the dark, smooth wood, “is for you.”

He started towards it. Her arm shot out, stopping him. “No, no, silly boy. It’s for you to use… on me.” He grinned, realizing that she’d made her choice.

He grabbed her arm, yanked her to him, and angled his lips over hers, plundering her mouth with his tongue and grinding his cock against the hot skin of her belly. She met him halfway, gripping his ass, spreading her legs, and fisting her hands in his hair. He back-walked her, keeping their lips connected, until she hit the cross. Hands and arms appeared, pulling off his shirt, her leathers, handing him a flogger and clamps. Evan slammed her arms up, fastened them tight, and clipped her ankles in before stepping back and admiring the view, twirling the clamps around in his hands.

“Oh, my dear Sophie,” he said, running the flogger down her face and breasts before pressing his palm against the moist heat of her pussy. “We are gonna have some fun now…”

She hissed as he slid a finger into her, then withdrew it and put it to his lips. He caressed her breasts, kissing her and absorbing her moans as he slid the clamps onto her nipples. “Shh…” he soothed. “Breathe… take the pain and I’ll bring the pleasure. I promise.”

“I know you will. It’s why I chose you.” She smiled down at him, gasping when he started flicking her skin with the flogger lightly, just teasing as he tugged on the clamp chain. “Come closer,” she whispered.

He did, tracing the outline of her lips with his tongue then stepping away, using the flogger harder now, making her yelp and moan and her body shake. Her smell changed then, went from titillated female to seriously horny woman. He knelt in front of her, slid his tongue along her clit and lower, loving her unique flavor. “Wanna come, Sophie?” He looked up, then slipped two fingers inside her.

She groaned, arched her hips towards him. He latched onto her clit, sucking hard, and stroked deep behind her pubic bone. She shuddered and came all over his face and hand. He licked at the moisture dripping down her thigh, then stood. She stared at him, breathing heavily, eyes dark and mysterious. He needed more, needed to be inside this woman so badly he could feel the pressure building along his spine and up into his neck.

He unclamped her nipples, making her cry out as he licked and suckled them back into a normal shape. He kept kissing her while unlatching her arms, then watched the staff release her ankles. She collapsed into him, her face wet with surprising tears. He picked her up, turned, and saw that a luxurious bed had materialized. He laid her down, took the condom from the disembodied hand and slid it on.

She reached up to touch his face. “What are you waiting for?” She tugged him down, shoved him over onto his back, and rode him until they both came in a loud burst of noise and energy.

Dropping down over his face, hair drawing a dark curtain around them, she kissed him, making him forget his own name for a few minutes. They lay in the dark, their breathing calming. Then without a word, she got up and slipped away. He sat rubbing his face. His body felt great. But something was off, wrong, and Evan could only wish he knew what gave him that feeling.

Chapter Seventeen

One night, nearly a year and a half after he’d started playing alternate Dom and sub to his boss, he sat with Jack on the back porch of the old house the other man was renovating. Nestled in the heart of Burns Park, the expensive neighborhood adjacent to the east side of the University of Michigan’s central campus, the giant bungalow was slowly being transformed from a money pit piece of shit into a showpiece of carefully designed arts and craftsmanship. At the moment the place had no functioning bathroom other than a Port-a-John in the yard, and about a third of a kitchen. But Jack wore a satisfied smile as he downed some of the beer Evan had brought. He was trying to convince Jack to open his wallet and go in with him to buy the struggling Ann Arbor brewery.

“You and Sophie,” his friend said, staring into the glass of pale ale as if trying to read its tea leaves. “That shit serious?”

Evan sputtered, nearly choking. “Oh hell no,” he claimed, leaning back and trying not to let his body language betray his words. “Strictly play and only at the club. And that suits us both just fine.” Which was almost true. But in many ways false.

Something about the woman tugged at him, all over, even after they were both exhausted by their vigorous sessions. She would lie with him for a few minutes, let him hold her, especially after they’d engaged in some of her favorite, rougher activities. She was not a fan of wax, or ice, or food, but went straight for the whips, the ropes, and bondage, clamps for them both, cock rings for him, canes, and ball gags. Sometimes he wanted nothing more than to hold her, make love as opposed to teasing her until they were both at a fever pitch and then plowing into her, rutting like an animal until he came, each time seeming to last longer than the one before.

But just as he was relaxing, drifting off into a comfortable nap with her warm skin next to his, she’d jump up and disappear, leaving the club without a backward glance. It was starting to make him feel a little like the neglected girl on prom night, putting out, then ignored until the next time his date wanted to fuck him. He sighed. He’d learned exactly nothing about her in the past almost eighteen months other than the fact she was not nearly as old as he had pegged her for. And the more he was with her, the younger she seemed.

Jack shot him a funny look. “How do you get into these things?”

“What things?” He sipped his beer, ready to stop talking about it lest he admit everything to a man who would undoubtedly laugh his fool ass off when he was told how needy Evan felt lately. He promised himself a discussion with Sophie before he whipped, spanked, or fucked her again.

“You know, these wild-hair ideas. Switching around with your latest Dominatrix. Breweries. These kinds of things.”

Evan laughed. “Honestly, I have no idea. But about this beer…”

* * * *

Evan walked into the office at seven forty-five the next morning, determined to catch Sophie before the day began and she could start her bitchy alternation of ignore-and-berate Evan for the day. His boss – his lover, he reminded himself – arrived every morning no later than seven. She was the most driven female he’d ever encountered, other than his sister at the height of her ballet obsession. He set his briefcase down at his desk and wandered back to her office, pausing outside the door to observe her as she sipped coffee and gazed out the window.

Her sharp profile was highlighted by the stern up-do of her thick hair. She was wearing his favorite suit – royal blue checked with white and high black pumps. His heart fluttered a second as he wrapped his head around something – she was holding him at arms’ length for a reason. Maybe he shouldn’t buck the program, ruin it with his girlie need for “more” and to actually go on a date with her. He decided to start there and walked in simultaneously recognizing her anger at his presence and his own knee-jerk reaction to that. And he thought handling Felicia had been difficult – that had been a giant, fluffy cake-walk compared to the hard angles and edges of this woman.

He took a breath and a seat across from her as if about to take notes on their latest case. She kept glaring at him, as something like nervousness lit the edges of her gaze. He frowned, stood up, and shut the door.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she said, still gripping her coffee cup. He perched on the edge of her desk, crossed his arms over his chest, and ignored the fury oozing directly at him.

“I think we need to go out, you know, on a date or something.”

The look she shot him was clear, and withering. “Funny. I don’t think that at all.” She shoved him off her desk. “You seem to be mistaking ‘us’,” she hooked her fingers around the offending word, “for something more than what it is, Adams. That is a mistake I’ll only allow you to make once.”

Evan frowned but stood his ground. He gripped the back of the large leather chair and turned her around, propping both hands on the arms so she couldn’t move. “Funny? I don’t see anything funny about this.” He narrowed his eyes, tried not to be taken in by her feverish, spicy scent – the one he now identified with the turned-on Sophie, not the boss-lady one. “I’m not comfortable with this ‘us’ anymore.” He leaned closer, sucked in a huge breath of her, then without thinking, ran a finger down her face, her neck, and into the top of her suit jacket. She smacked his hand, hard.

“Fine. Then get the fuck out and plan on choosing differently next time you go downtown. That is no skin off my nose.” He stood, staring gape-jawed at her as she pointed a finger at him. “You mean nothing to me. Get it? You’re a toy, a plaything. I was afraid you’d get like this.”

A knock on the door startled them both. She took a step into him, clutched his arm, and steered him away from her desk. “Don’t ever come in here thinking you can touch me again. Get it?” She let go of him at the last minute, opened the door, and welcomed her secretary in the room.

“Oh, sorry, Ms. Harrison.” The poor girl looked flustered seeing the two of them there together so early.

“No need, dear. Mr. Adams was just leaving. I’ve given him the day off.”

Evan walked out, stared at her closed door just long enough for the surprise to fade into a keen, raw fury. He grabbed his briefcase and left, muttering curses the whole way home. Before he got out of his car he quick-dialed Jack.

“Hey, I just got a surprise day off. Want to play hooky with me? Hit the links?” Somewhat satisfied, but nursing a low level of unhappiness, he hung up, stomped inside, and made a quick reservation at one their favorite courses.

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