The Venture Capitalist (16 page)

“What happens if this”—she gestures between us—”doesn’t work out? I need assurances that Kente doesn’t become one of your acquisitions.”

“Have you read the contract?”

“No.”

“I’ve included a provision for that. I think the language says that if personal relationships are severed, White Enterprises will ensure your company is backed by another entity before we part ways amicably.” Now this is complete truth, and some time in the future I’m going to have to come clean on my subterfuge involving Darnelle, but now isn’t that time.

“You would do that?”

I unearth a sworn affirmation that I would go to even more elaborate lengths to prove my desire for this woman.

“Right now, I’d do anything it takes to make you mine.”

CHAPTER NINE

It occurs to me as I’m grinding Keisha against the door and kissing the shit out of her that this is another rare occurrence. I don’t usually kiss submissives this much. Yes, during the sex act, I do, but not for the sheer pleasure of it. When this epiphany emerges, I break the kiss abruptly and scan her modest bedroom. It’s time to do what I do best.

Keisha looks bereft, but that doesn’t stop her from inquiring about my intentions.

“What are you looking for?”

“Items useful for improvisation.” My eyes land on the belt of her robe, where I promptly remove it from its loops.

“Do you trust me?” I ask, as I slip the robe from her shoulders and drop it to the floor.

“Yes.”

“Turn around.”

She doesn’t allow her curiosity to distract her from my requests, and she responds admirably. I use the belt from the robe to blindfold her.

Now for something to bind her hands. Ah, my belt will suffice. I unbuckle my belt and remove it from around my waist. Taking her hands, I cross them at the wrists and bind them with the soft Italian leather.

I inquire about the tightness, because I don’t want her to have circulation problems. “How does that feel? Not too tight?”

“No.”

“No, what?” I may have commended her on obedience too soon, because she’s forgotten her first verbal response. We’ll have to work more on that during our role play weekend when, not if, we get to that point.

Ms. Beale may be playing a bit hard to get. She may not have been aware of it, but I branded her on Saturday, and regardless of her display of resistance earlier, she will be back for what only I can give her. That is not conceit speaking. It is just a fact.

She corrects her faux pas. “No, Sir.”

“Good girl.”

I smile when I hear those words coming from her. She will learn that her simple acts of appropriate response revs my motor more than anything else, and she will reap the reward from my pleasure.

I take her bound hands in one of mine and pull her slowly toward the stuffed chair in her room, which I plan to use as a makeshift apparatus, since we’re not in my Grotto. I bend her forward, settling her waist over the arm of the chair and her forearms onto the cushion.

“Rest your head between your elbows on the cushion.” I say.

The chair leaves a little to be desired in regard to height, but I’m willing to compromise. I look down at the angle she’s in which puts her lovely ass on display for me, her short night gown partially obscuring it from my view. I run my hands underneath her nightgown, pushing the soft fabric onto her back. I will never get enough of looking at her roundness sans underwear. Sucking in a harsh breath, I splay my hands over it, reveling in the feel of her soft skin.

“No panties, Ms. Beale. You get points for this surprise.”

“I—”

“Uh, uh, uh. No talking unless I ask you a direct question,” I say this as I cease palming her gorgeous bottom to caress the smooth skin with my fingertips, leaving a trail of gooseflesh over her skin.

“Now I’m going to have to spank you. You will get the gist of this after a punishment or two.”

She stiffens and I know she has to be perturbed by my pronouncement, but I want her to know what the consequences might be when she’s disobedient, especially if we’re to proceed to a formal D/s relationship.

If she’s irritated by what I’m about to do, she doesn’t indicate it outwardly in any way. However, I notice as I unzip and drop my pants a fine sheen of perspiration on her forehead, even though the temperature in her room is very pleasant. I chalk it up to nervousness, and retrieve a condom from my pocket. Thank fuck I resumed the habit of carrying one after our first tryst on Saturday.

Tearing the prophylactic packaging open, I immediately sheath myself and move behind Keisha, teasing the head of my cock against her dripping sex.

“I can see that you want this.” I want her, too, but I’ll just keep that part of the equation to myself.

Her audible gasp becomes a sigh, but she refrains from speaking out of turn.

“But first, you have to feel the sting of my hand on your delectable ass, Ms. Beale.”

She stiffens again, but then immediately relaxes. I give her some unsolicited advice as I massage her roundness again.

“The best thing to do is to free your mind. Don’t overthink what’s about to happen. Go with it and separate yourself from the worrisome arena of thought. Take what you are given and don’t let your mind get in the way of the sensual pleasures that follow immediately after the pain. Are you ready?”

“Y-yes, Sir.”

Beginning with her left cheek, I massage it in a circular motion, then give it a hard smack. She sucks in a hard breath at the force of the sting. Next I move to the other cheek and employ the same circular massage before smacking it.

Alternating sides, I only give her a total of six whacks, but my dick is already so engorged, I don’t need to spank her any more unless I want to come without fucking her. I enter her with a swift motion and after only a couple of thrusts, Ms. Beale comes so hard her knees give way. I snake my arm under her torso to prevent her from falling and continue to work toward my own release.

When I’m sure she’s regained her footing, I reach around her torso to cup her breasts as I continue moving into her. I tweak her nipples, rolling them between my thumb and forefinger, all the while kissing her neck and shoulders. I am required to bend my knees awkwardly to accomplish this feat, but it’s going to be short-lived judging by her muscles contracting around me.

As I feel her getting closer, I pull out, raise her to standing and push her onto her back on the seat cushion. Leaving her hips on the edge of the arm, her legs fall open just so, displaying her swollen sex to my greedy mouth.

I move her bound hands over her head, and kneeling, I latch onto her as if doing a body cavity search with my tongue. Judging from the sounds coming from Keisha, it won’t be long before she orgasms again. It’s as if she can read my thoughts when her second orgasm rolls over her within the next minute.

When she ceases to spasm, I carry her to the bed, remove the belt from around her hands, and position her lying prone with her knees open. My erection has only become more engorged, so I enter her immediately and continues the activities we began on the chair. I don’t count how many, but there don’t seem to be many more strokes before I come, spectacularly, filling the tip of the condom, but I don’t immediately pull out.

I continue to move in her as I contort my head to lick, suck and massage her breasts until her final orgasm expels me.

Only then do I remove the makeshift blindfold, and allow Keisha to have her eyesight back. I try to remove any trace of smugness from my smile, but I’m not altogether sure I’m successful.

“Have I thoroughly convinced you now, Ms. Beale?”

Panting, she returns my smile. “Yes, Sir.”

In short order her smile disappears and her eyes widen in horror. “What are Jada and Nathan going to think?”

“That we’re in here fucking,” I say, with a laugh.

She punches me, and I tease her. “Do that again, baby.” Miffed by my teasing, she moves to roll away but I trap her. “Where are you going?”

“Tristan, I just met your brother. He’s going to think I’m some kind of skank ho.”

“Do you care that much about what other people think of you?”

She thinks on it a second. “No, not really.”

“Always be secure in who you are. Never give anyone that kind of power, and you’ll do well in the business world.”

“Thanks for the tip, but if it’s all the same to you, I think we should get dressed and go back out there.”

Just as the words leave her mouth we hear screams. “Yes, Master! Yes! Yes! Yes!” Then we hear the unmistakable crack of a whip.

Keisha gasps, her eyes betraying what she already knows. Yet, she whispers to me, “Are they doing what I think they’re doing?”

“Knowing my brother? Yes.”

I watch as her face clouds in anger. “That bitch!”

“Hey, don’t knock it till you’ve tried it. Now, you have a friend in the lifestyle you can talk to. It’s going to be perfect.”

“So, I’m not bound by the NDA from talking to Jada?”

I shoot her a playful glare. “If you’d read it carefully, you would know you’re allowed to talk to friends within the community.”

“Oh.” I love how she resorts to monosyllabic answers when something is obvious.

I sit up, swinging my legs off the bed.

“Where are
you
going?” She asks in a vulnerable tone.

“I’m going to phone the after-hours car service and cancel it, then text Moses to arrange for a six-thirty pick up here.”

After retrieving my phone from my pants pocket, I turn back to drink in the thoroughly fucked woman lying in front of me. I don’t particularly care if my eyes convey exactly what I plan to do to her the rest of the morning. I sincerely hope Ms. Beale can function on a work day suffering from sleep deprivation.

Nathan and I leave the roommates at six-thirty. The plan is for Moses to drop me off at the office where I have a fully appointed ensuite and a closet with extra clothing, then he’ll take Nathan out to the Buffaloes practice facility where he has a locker and use of their shower facilities.

I shoot Darryl a quick text regarding my ETA and look over at my brother. Nathan has a shit-eating grin on his face and he’s just begging me with his eyes to engage him in conversation about our previous activities, but I gaze at him impassively until my phone pings with Darryl’s returning text.

See you at seven-thirty, Mr. White.

There is no frame of reference for such a situation between Nathan and me. The closest thing I can remember is us dating twins when we were at the Academy and leaving out of their bedroom windows before the parents woke up.

Nathan finally capitulates. “I’m going to ask Jada to be my submissive,” he says.

“Aw, come on Nathan. Are you doing this because you know I’ve asked Keisha to be mine?”

“This is not a sibling rivalry thing, Tristan. Jada is exactly what I need.”

“How’d you come to that conclusion after one night with her?”

“As if it took you so long to decide on Keisha. Look, man, Jada’s a Switch and this means no more submissives pretending to give me what I need.”

My brother was also a Switch and had one hell of a time finding someone to fit the bill for him. The only reason his past relationship with Lavender lasted so long was because she was one sadistic bitch who knew how to handle Nathan as a Domme. She had to be trained to be a submissive, because her predilections leaned purely to the Dominatrix angle.

Over the years, I’d watched Nathan go through more submissives than I had, because he couldn’t find that perfect match in the lifestyle. If he believed Ms. Jameson was the answer, who was I to argue. I didn’t have to deal with her. She and I weren’t compatible in the least, because she reminded me a bit too much of the kind of girls we grew up with, Darnelle notwithstanding.

“I was out of line in my reaction, please pursue Ms. Jameson if you think she’s what you need. By all means. Just don’t expect me to play that girlfriend/boyfriend game you like to play with your subs, okay? Keisha is confused enough without having to compare what you and Ms. Jameson might get into with the pure Dom/sub thing we’re going to have.”

“We’ll stay out of your way. I promise.”

“Good.”

I pick up my phone again and check my mounting list of emails. I usually get a jump on answering them during my commute to work, so I start that process, but after doing a couple, I look up at Nate again, and see that he really wants to talk. I sigh and close the screen.

“I know you want me to ask. So, what clued you in that Ms. Jameson was in the lifestyle?” I think I know the answer to this question, but I also know Nathan. He likes to talk. This has always been his way of working things out, even before we went through years of therapy. I, on the other hand, keep things close to the vest. Unless he pulls it out of me.

He begins his animated way of talking that comes from the way a lot of basketball coaches talk with their hands and explain things thoroughly. “When she mentioned we’d possibly met at events, man that was a total red flag for me. Then I tried to remember if we’d ever scened together somewhere, but I was drawing a blank, you know?”