Primal (9 page)

Her scent still clung to his sheets, and he used that as he reached beneath the sheet and fisted his cock. He pumped his fist a couple of times, then concentrated on the head, fast and light at first, working to spread the pre-cum that flowed and get some lubrication.
 

Once his shaft was coated, he squeezed tighter and stroked faster. Up, down. Up, down. A little twist here, a squeeze of the head there, and he was panting, remembering how fucking hot Beauty looked spread out on his bed playing with her tits. His heart thumped, and his pulse raced as hot blood flowed straight to his center and his cock began to throb and swell even more. Cum leaked steadily out the head, coating him and making his movements all juicy sounding.
 
Juicy, mmm, yes, harder, faster, his balls tightened, the base of his cock tingled, and his back arched. Cum spurted out, and he imagined shooting all over her belly, marking her as his.
 

Holy fuck. She made him come harder than any other woman even when she wasn’t there.
 

Olivia went into the office early on Friday morning, despite having a bit of a wine hangover from the night before. She and Jazz had polished off the big bottle of red while talking about Adam.
 

Jazz had cackled like a mad woman when Olivia told her how Adam just seemed to make her brain melt.
 

“I told you!” she’d cried. “It’s all about the cock. He has a nice one, doesn’t he? And he knows how to use it. I can tell by the way you’re blushing that he fucked you like no other, and now you see why you need good sex to make a relationship work!”

“But don’t you think it’s a bit crazy to even be thinking relationship after only seeing him once? When I went over there, I thought I was heading into a one-night stand.”

Jazz had just shrugged. “Some things are meant to be. You can fight it, but why would you when he obviously makes you feel good?”

That way of thinking was fine and good for her friend, who had grown up in a free love sort of community, but for Olivia, she needed some data to help her figure a few things out.
 

She’d spent every spare moment between clients scouring the Internet for more information on BDSM. The first thing she’d done was google Overwatch, Adam’s club.

Adam’s website didn’t offer much. It was one page, with a big X in the center, a paragraph of text, and an e-mail address at the bottom. The text was a Mission Statement.
 

Mission Statement

Overwatch is an exclusive members-only club devoted to developing a community of kink-positive people. Our mission is to provide a safe haven for those who have a need that others might not understand or accept. We value choice, discretion, and above all, safety. Overwatch provides a clean and maintained environment for sexual exploration, education, and adventure, with respect, not judgment.

She’d sat and stared at that page for a while. It was so Adam. Simple, straightforward, and yet still so intriguing.
 

Next, she googled BDSM.

She started with the psychology of BDSM and the Coalition for Sexual Freedom but quickly got distracted by all the blogs and porn sites, especially the porn sites. Lord, the porn!

Having never really watched porn before, Olivia found herself both fascinated and turned on by the scenes of leather-clad men and bound women in dungeons. Women hanging from ropes and chains in all sorts of contortions, being teased and fucked. They were tied down on padded benches with legs spread while someone shocked them with an electric charge, plastic cups suctioned breasts into them, turning skin red and swollen, and wow, sensitive. When she’d found herself not only shifting in her seat but scratching her nails over erect nipples through her blouse, she was surprised.
 

She’d told Adam she masturbated, and she did, but never at work had she ever even thought about it let alone touched herself.
 

Jesus Lord, what was happening to her?

 
Breath, hot against her skin makes her pulse jump. Her fingers curl, and her nails dig into the soft flesh of her own hands as they twist and tug against velvet bindings.

Velvet. So soft, yet so strong. She could tug and tug and never be free. The fabric might give, but she knows that what wasn’t what really bound her.
 

His desire bound her. His hunger, and her need to match it with her own.
 

He wants her blindfolded and laid out on the bed, arms above her head, naked body spread eagle and completely open, so she wants it, too. Her ears catch the slight rustle of movement to her left, and then nothing. He’s there, next to her. She can feel his energy all around her. As if he prowls the floor next to the bed, just looking at her, wanting her.
 

Her tongue darts out and licks at her lips, and she can almost feel him smile. He knows what she wants. He knows her better than she knows herself.

His thumb rubs across her lip, and she opens for him. She licks and sucks at him until he pulls back. “Not yet, Beauty,” he growls. “I want to play first.”
 

The mattress next to her sinks in a little with his weight, and she feels him leaning over her. Her heart kicks in her chest as light fingers skim over her body. First over the curve of her hip, the planes of her belly, then upward to firmly cup her breasts before lightly running a fingertip around a rigid nipple. Her back arches, and she thrusts her breasts forward, pleading for attention.
 

Hot lips suck hard on her nipple before he blows cool air across them. Firm fingers hold, cool metal touches her hot skin then a sudden pinch has her crying out and arching up, pulling at her restraints.
 

He chuckles, and the pain eases to a constant pressure that burns so good. He repeats the process with the other breast, and she feels lightheaded for just a moment. She wants to beg, to plead, because she knows he’d enjoy it, but words can’t compete with the sounds of her pain/pleasure.
 

Her insides tremble, and her mind starts to float as he scrapes something hard and sharp around her clamped nipples and down the center of her torso. The spikes press deeper into the soft flesh of her belly, and he growls. “So soft, so womanly,” he says. “Built to give a man pleasure.”

Her buttocks clench and her hips flex when the spikes are run across her upper thighs. He runs the spike closer to her slick sex, at the same time something soft tickles her throbbing nipples, and she gasps.
 

Colors are born behind her covered eyes to match the sensations. Bright reds that blend into pretty pinks and light greens and robin’s egg blue that signify the sharp needles of pain and the gentle strokes that follow behind them.

Then the sharp needles stop, and the air stills. A light touch skims over her swollen and aching clit, and she cries out, her body arches, and the velvet pulls at her wrists and ankles once again as pleasure explodes through her core. The bed shifts beneath her, and she feels the hair-dusted skin of his muscular thighs against her legs. Just as she starts to come back to herself, he thrusts home, his cock filling her up and shooting more ripples of pleasure through her system. His deep grunts of pleasure fill her ears as he wants no more time. Hips pumping, he fucks her fast and hard, giving no care to how deep he’s hitting her, and she cries out pain and pleasure mixing. Soon, she’s coming again, and he swells even bigger inside her. There’s a tug on her nipples, and pain rips through her body, straight to her cunt. The pain hurts so good that the blindfold dampens with her tears, and her lips part in a mixture of moans and sighs as his hot cum shoots deep into her core.
 

Seconds later, a gentle thumb caresses her cheek and the blindfold is removed.
 

“You did so good, my girl.” He places kisses on her neck and jaw, then her lips.
 

Olivia jerked awake in bed, damp sheets twisted around her. She lifts her hands and checks her ankles and realizes her body might be unbound, but her heart is not.

Olivia took her time getting ready before heading out on Saturday night because, unlike earlier in the week, she wasn’t going straight from work and ending up panty-less.
 
Especially since he’d called that afternoon and left a voice mail on her phone, suggesting she bring an overnight bag and some comfortable clothes. She wasn’t sure if that mean he wanted her there all weekend or just overnight, but she was going to be prepared either way.
 

Since rush hour was over, the drive to his place went much quicker, and before she knew it, Olivia pulled into the parking lot next to Adam’s building. The lot was pretty full, which made her heart race. Instead of walking around to the front, she headed for the back this time, to the entrance for the club. She smiled at the black X on the doors, recognizing it as a St. Andrews Cross from her earlier research.
 

Smart to have a simple symbol there. Those who were looking for the club would know they’d found it, yet it was discreet enough to prevent looky-loos from finding it.
 

Sucking in a deep breath, she pulled open the doors and went in. There were two more doors in the entryway. A set in front of her and smaller, single one off to the side. She recognized the one on the side probably went upstairs to Adam’s living space, just like the one at the front of the building before the gym’s doors. She tried the single door, thinking to maybe put her overnight bag up there, but it was locked solid.
 

Just then, the door behind her pulled open, and a tall, handsome man strode in carrying his own black duffle bag. He stopped, blue eyes sharp as he gave her a once over, missing nothing, including where her hand was still on Adam’s door.
 

“Can I help you?” he asked.
 

Mouth dry, Olivia stared at him. He was several inches over six feet of solid muscle. It wasn’t the muscle, or even the scar running under his chin like someone had tried to slit his throat, that scared her. It was the flatness of his gaze.

She opened her mouth, forcing words past a desert-dry throat. “Adam invited me.”

His eyebrows jumped, and something like delight came over his face, completely changing his countenance. “Really?” He drawled. “Isn’t that interesting?”

She didn’t know what to say to that, so she just smiled. He was
really
good-looking when he wasn’t pinning her to the floor with a look. Thick blond hair that made her fingers itch to touch and a beautiful smile that brought the butterflies to life in her belly made her wonder if she’d been imagining the air of menace from a moment ago.
 

“Let’s go in, then, shall we?” He pulled the club door open and gestured her ahead of him.
 

She walked in, unsurprised to find yet another entryway. This one had two more men in it, both tall, fit, and sharp-eyed. One stood behind a high reception desk, and the other directly in front of another set of doors. She could hear music now, and it somehow made her relax a bit and take a better look around.
 

“Grant,” the man in front of the doors said, stepping forward. “Ma’am.”

“This little lady said she’s a guest of Adam’s,” Grant, her escort, said as he moved to the reception counter and reached for the clipboard the man there held out to him. “You have some paperwork for her?”

“Yes, sir. He said to expect her.” He met Olivia’s gaze and gestured toward the counter his partner stood behind. “Dr. Hamilton, if you’ll step over there, when Grant’s done signing in, Jones will get you set up, and then I’ll take you to the boss.”

She glanced from the doorman to her escort, and Grant nodded, a reassuring smile touching his lips. She put the board back down on the counter. Funny how only seconds ago he’d scared the pants off her, and now she was looking to him for reassurance.
 

Shaking her head at her own nerves, she stepped up and smiled at the young man behind the counter. Jones. When he smiled at her, she realized how good-looking he was. In fact, she noticed with a quick glance over her shoulder again. Both men were very attractive. It wasn’t so much about their hair color, or eyes, or even the noticeably hard bodies. It was the air of confident command they had. It reminded her of Adam, just not as potent.
 

“Just a couple of things for you to read and sign, ma’am, since it is a members-only club and you’re not currently a member.”

“Call me Olivia, please,” she said with a small smile.
 

The paperwork was unexpected, but it made sense. She set her bag down and looked over the pages he slid in front of her, not paying any attention to the opening and closing of the door behind her as Grant went deeper into the club. It was a non-disclosure agreement and liability waiver. She’d just finished reading it and was about to sign when the doors opened and a couple walked in.

The man was tall, leanly muscled, and quite clean cut despite dark hair that brushed his collar. The woman at his side had shiny sable-colored hair, smooth skin, and one arm completely covered in colorful tattoos. He wore expensive gabardine slacks and a button-up shirt, while she had on a short, frayed denim skirt and a tight tank top.