Pursued (13 page)

They walked separately down the hall to her quarters. As she produced the key, however, she saw Henry stop in front of a closet-like door that said “PRIVATE, MDM. ONLY.”

“That’s a security room,” Monica said, fumbling for her key. “It’s…”

“Let’s watch for a bit.”

How did he know what it was? Monica approached the door and unlocked it with another key.

It was her personal surveillance room. In it, which was nothing more than a walk-in closet, were a dozen closed-circuit televisions letting her see every major room in the house. There was another security room that showed the public areas and the outdoors, manned by her security chief and his part-time deputies. This room, however, focused on the private areas, so Monica could make sure no awful business was going on in the girls’ boudoirs.

They knew about the cameras. Some of them even got off on them, although Monica rarely came in to keep an eye on things.

“Do your clients know about this?” Henry said the moment Monica latched the door shut behind them. He sat in the only chair in front of the TVs and zoomed right in on the one featuring Grace’s room.

“No, they don’t. These aren’t recorded to anything. Just a live feed to make sure nobody’s actually getting hurt. Sometimes the girls don’t know when to report something.”

“I hope they don’t report this, because it’s damn fantastic.”

He pointed to the TV, and Monica leaned in to see what he meant.
Should have guessed.
It was Grace with Mr. Andrews. And Mrs. Andrews.

Henry pulled Monica into his lap as they watched.
I’m not supposed to get off on this.
She was human, and it couldn’t be helped. Grace was naked, bent over and chained to her wall while Mr. Andrews fucked her from behind, his hand coming down for a hard spank every few seconds. Even on that tiny camera Monica could see how red Grace’s ass was.

“Please tell me there’s sound.”

“No,” Monica said. She wished there was.

Mrs. Andrews slipped off Grace’s bed and approached the fornicating couple, her hand rubbing her husband’s bare chest before going to rub Grace’s bare back.
I really need to charge them extra.

“Sex isn’t supposed to be expected, right?”

“No. It’s made clear to every man. Tying up, whipping, humiliation, that sort of thing… legal things.”

“That ain’t legal.”

“It is if they’re not specifically paying for it.”

“Do all those ladies fuck their patrons and clients?”

“The patrons? Yes. Not usually the clients. Unless they want to, but then they risk starting rumors that we’re an actual brothel.”

“Travesty.” Henry’s hand moved over Monica’s mouth, silencing her. She slid farther along his lap and leaned against his chest. “Now be quiet. I want to watch.”

So did Monica. Mr. Andrews was fit, albeit a bit older. He had good endurance too, apparently, since he had been going at Grace for a good three minutes now, and who knew how long before that. The spanking had stopped, but Grace continued to make faces that could only be from moaning in unexpected pleasure.
He found her G-spot, I guess.
No wonder Grace liked him so much.

He pulled out, still hard, and Mrs. Andrews unchained Grace from the wall. Her husband pulled her arm and brought his wife in for a kiss, their passionate embrace only foiled by the naked woman slumping over and grabbing Mrs. Andrews’s ankle. The well-to-do woman sank to her knees and began sucking her husband. Grace disrobed Mrs. Andrews, even going so far as to rub her breasts and kiss her shoulders.

It came as no surprise when Mr. Andrews took his wife to bed, pushing her down, half-dressed and spreading her legs. After having been inside another woman only a minute ago, Mr. Andrews was now inside his wife, and Grace came to them both, biting the wife’s nipples and rubbing her clit for her.

Something hard dug into the top of Monica’s ass. Henry’s breath was heavy in her ear, his hands groping her through her red dress.

She wanted to unzip him and ride him right there, letting her breasts slide against the table as they watched this threesome unfold, but Monica hadn’t been told to do anything but stay quiet. She took those kinds of commands seriously, especially when they came from a man like Henry Warren, whose large bulge was even harder now.

Mr. Andrews pulled out of his wife and tossed Grace over the side of the bed. He finished inside of her.

I want Henry to do that.
Monica shouldn’t on their initiation. The code of conduct for the girls was to use a condom with all walk-in clients and for the first month with a patron. Monica should follow her own rules, but the temptation was too strong to know what her Mr. Warren felt like coming inside of her. Deep, deep inside of her.

She whimpered, grinding against his bulge as he continued to grope and kiss her. “Are you wet, Monica?” he asked, hand covering her mouth again.
I won’t talk. You didn’t tell me to.
“Because I’m so hard for you that I don’t want to wait any longer. Tell me!”

He released her mouth as she gasped and slammed her hands on the table. “Yes, Mr. Warren,” she said, reveling in his name like that. Henry liked it too, because his fingers dug into her flesh and threatened to push the short skirt of her dress up. “I’m ready.”

All it would take was three movements. Move her lingerie, take out his cock, and thrust upward. At this angle he could even pull her hair as he liked. Even spank her! “I’m ready too.” He released her. “Let’s go.”

It wasn’t what she wanted, but she knew that’s what she needed. Henry opened the door and led her out. Monica barely had time to lock the door before she had to unlock the one to her chambers, Henry taking a look down the empty hallway before wrapping his hand around the back of her neck and whispering something into her ear.

“I’ll show you the night of your life.”

Chapter 9

A Long Lost Release

“Don’t move.”

Monica stood in front of her bed, staring at the swirls in her comforter as Henry Warren came up behind her and put his hands on her hips. She didn’t move, as told. Nerves were killing themselves inside her stomach, her chest, and her groin – all because Henry’s voice growled every time that head of dark blond hair came closer to destroying Monica’s sanity.

“I can’t tell if I should call you a princess…” Henry kissed the nape of her neck, his tongue trailing down to her bare shoulder and then the space between side and arm. “Or a queen.”

He undid her hair. Fine locks of chestnut landed on her shoulder and fell toward her breasts. The clip holding it all together dropped to the floor. “Call me whatever you want, Mr. Warren.”

“I like it when you say that.” Henry’s hands pushed beneath her breasts and lifted them up, making her cleavage even more ridiculous in that dress. Her zipper slowly came undone toward her rear. “Tonight you will call me Mr. Warren or sir. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I mean it, Monica.” His fingers were like daggers shooting into her flesh. “Don’t disappoint me.”

“I would never. Disappointing you would break my heart.”

“Neither of us wants that. Now be silent and do as you’re told. Do that, and I’ll take care of your needs.”

Monica shivered for the millionth time that night. Her skin was on fire, her stomach broiling, and her heart fluttering so quickly she thought every breath would be her last. The anticipation would make her come before anything Henry did to her. Yet she said nothing, as told.
I love being told not to talk.
The real challenge came when her Doms told her to be silent during her orgasms. She hoped Henry wouldn’t do that tonight.

“Stay still.” Although gentle, his voice was still rigid. “I want to explore you.”

He sounded like an adventurer when he said that. The type of man who climbed mountains and tamed wild horses.
I’m neither.
She was a she-wolf queen inviting this stranger into her den for mating. A queen who usually had the reins, but tonight she was turning them over to this alpha male.

Henry poked his finger into the dip of her zipper, tickling the top of her rear. His teeth bit the shawl and pulled it off her back and arms. She saw it fly across the room and land on her dresser. The skirt of her dress pulled up over her rear, exposing her black lingerie.

Monica waited for him to tell her to bend over. Or to push his fingers inside of her because he wouldn’t believe any testimony as to how wet she was. Yet he didn’t do either. Instead he wrapped his arms around her midsection and pressed his hardness against her.

“Do you want it, my princess?” he asked, licking the tip of her ear. “You’re not a virginal princess, are you?” When Monica didn’t answer, he remembered his order and said, “You can answer that.”

“No, Mr. Warren. I’m not a virgin.”

“How many men have been inside you?”

“Inside me? Five.”

The silence killed her.

“I’m sorry, sir, it’s too many.”

“No, not at all. It’s a good amount of experience. I’m assuming you like it.”

“Very much so, sir.”

“And what do you like most, Princess?” Henry rubbed himself against her, reminding her that he had something to offer besides money and conversation. “The size? The entry? The ending?”

“I like all three, Mr. Warren.”

He grasped her shoulders and pushed her down. Hair obscured her face as she looked toward her carpet, her lingerie straining against her slit. “Get down on your knees.”

The sound of another zipper coming undone thrilled Monica as she dropped, shoes kicking off behind her and hands helping her to turn around toward her Dom.
My master.
She didn’t want to say that out loud yet. That was too intimate.

Not as intimate as what she saw right in front of her face the moment she looked up again, however. Henry’s erect and ready cock was out.

She didn’t wait for her order. Monica could sometimes be a naughty princess who anticipated exactly what her Dom wanted. When a man told her to get on her knees and took out his cock, it only meant one thing.

Monica sighed, hand wrapping around the base of his cock as her lips pressed against the side. Henry stirred within her grasp, hardening more, his one moan encouraging Monica to keep going. Her other hand disappeared into his trousers and massaged his sack. Her tongue followed a single vein down his shaft before encountering dark hair that tickled and delighted her lips.

“Fuck.” The first time hearing him say it like that, and it couldn’t have come at a better moment. Monica wanted to know that she was undoing this man. He may be her Dom, but he was still a man, and to topple him in pleasure was one of her many skills as a talented submissive. “Suck my cock, Princess. I’ve been waiting for this moment for half an eternity now.”

So had Monica, but she didn’t mention that.

She went to work on him, not in the least disappointed by the size he gave her to adore. His girth was the most impressive. Monica could wrap her mouth around most men, but Henry gave her a little trouble at first, until she remembered to relax and let him meet her halfway. Even so, she anchored her hand around the bottom of his hard shaft, letting her fingers nestle in the soft hairs as the roof of her mouth and the back of her throat welcomed him into her. Nothing leading up to this moment had been as satisfying.

Deep breath after deep breath filled Monica as she pulled him into her mouth and used her tongue to stimulate him the most. She found that vein again and traced it, letting it lead her to the head of his cock and then back down to her hand. When he proved not interested in thrusting into her mouth, Monica relaxed her gag and let him slide farther down her throat. Her teeth lightly –
very
lightly – grazed him.

“Look at me.”

She glanced up. Henry had undone his tie and lost his jacket on her bed.
Let me undress you.
Monica’s free hand circled his waist and grabbed his ass, firm, and flesh unyielding. There was power in his hips. Monica almost closed her eyes again to imagine the cock in her mouth fucking a different pair of lips.

“Enough.” Henry lost their staring contest and looked toward the ceiling. “For God’s sake, Monica, enough.”

She eased off him and sat on her legs. “Are you pleased?”

“I told you not to speak unless I give you permission. Did I give you permission?”

She shook her head.

“Then behave.” Henry grabbed a chunk of her hair but did not pull it. It tugged on her scalp, but pleasantly so, his fingers burying into her head while he studied her form. “Turn around on your hands and knees. Keep your ass in the air.”

Monica did as told, coming face to material with the carpet as her elbows supported her and her knees dug into the floor.
Fuck me, Henry.

“Move your hair out of the way. I want to see your back.”

It fell beside her, and the air was warm against her skin.

“Now stay still and don’t make a sound. Be a good princess. It’s not time to punish you.”