Torn: Part Two (An Alpha Billionaire Romance) (The Torn Series Book 2) (2 page)

Teasingly, I refuse to wrap my lips around him. It's not my goal to make him think that I'm bad at oral, but I refuse to give him all of the control, and judging by the way that he won't let up on my hair, he's determined to take it.

“You're resisting, but I can make you suck me off.” Amusement is plain in his voice.

With both hands on the back of my head, he thrusts into me hard and fast. I try to stay strong, but I can only handle so much. His helmet spears the back of my throat and pushes past it, my mouth making gurgling noises as saliva builds up inside. After several moments, I'm forced to swallow, my lips suctioning around him. He groans in pleasure and what I also assume is victory. There's no point in fighting anymore. It will be a lot better for both of us if I just give in. And perhaps he'll be less rough.

He pulls away from me completely, and I choke on the stickiness swimming inside my mouth before swallowing it down. Sir Jeremy's hands never leave my hair, and he gives my face another gentle slap, looking completely wicked. “You think you can win, but you can't. I'm going to get what I want from you even if you fight me every step of the way.”

I like the sound of that. And I like that he has the balls to fight back. Less experienced Doms would get flustered and give up. Not Sir Jeremy though.

“Now open your fucking mouth.” He forces me onto him again.

This time, I'm ready, lessening the torture by slurping on his dick like a giant man-flavored popsicle. He tastes like sweat and sex and sin, all of the things I need right now. Before long, I'm drunk from the taste of him, drowning in the sensation of feeling his girth stretch my jaw. Reveling in the velvet of his skin gliding over my tongue. I worship his cock while he punishes me with it, a fine balance of Dominance and submission that pushes boundaries but doesn't spill over them.

After what feels like an hour but was probably closer to five minutes, he pulls his dick out of my mouth and stands. “Get up.”

Having my arms tied behind my back makes the task difficult, but I'm able to struggle to my feet. Some girls would be embarrassed by how awkward it looks, but I know this is exactly what he wants to see. The smirk spreading across his lips tells me it amuses him.

As soon as I'm up and stable, he clutches onto my arm and leads me to a table against one of the walls. Then he grabs me by the hair and shoves me down until I'm bent over it. I lay there obediently, feeling the cool surface against my skin. It's a nice sensation with all of the heat flowing through me. He steps out of sight, and I listen to the sound of foil crinkling. He's getting ready to fuck me. My clit pulses in approval.

“Are you ready for me to stick my dick inside of you?” He hoists my right leg up onto the table for better access.

“Yes, Sir,” I whisper, closing my eyes and waiting for that euphoric moment when our bodies are joined.

“I didn't hear you.” His voice is an angry roar, his hand suddenly pressing down on my neck, sending pain rocketing through me.

“Yes, Sir,” I reply way louder than intended. The force of his palm on my neck was so unexpected that I momentarily panicked.

He lets up immediately, and I twist slightly to see him. His cock is standing at attention, his hand lazily stroking it.

“I'll give you my cock.” He places a hand on my ass and steps up behind me.

I feel just his tip sliding between my lips. Then a second later pain tunnels through me as he plows into me balls deep in one quick thrust. My back arches and I let out a sound somewhere between a moan and a hiss, my eyes clenched so tightly that my face hurts.

He pauses for a moment, perhaps concerned by my expression. It's not until I open my tear-lined eyes that he begins thrusting hard and fast. The pain I was feeling melts into pleasure as he pumps into me, the friction and the stretching sensation making my pussy throb around him.

“I've been wondering what you'd feel like since the moment I first laid eyes on you,” he tells me before grabbing my wrists and tilting his hips slightly.

The feeling is mutual. And the answer is amazing. At least, for me it is. Nothing else in the world matters except for what's happening right now. It's exactly what I needed. Exactly what I came here for.

He repositions himself, placing a leg up over the table next to my hip. When he starts thrusting again, it feels like he's reached the threshold of my depths. Dull fire aches inside of me every time his glans taps against my insides, and a torrent of whimpers fall from my lips as hot tears spill down my cheeks.

“Too big for you?” he muses between breaths.

It's not so much that as it is that he knows exactly how to angle himself to torture me. I refuse to give him the satisfaction of saying yes. He's not stopping for an answer anyway, so I can only assume that my tortured expression is enough.

Thankfully, it doesn't take long before the position becomes uncomfortable for him and he takes his leg down. The pressure inside of me returns to something bearable. I clamp my pussy around him every now and then, and he moans in approval.

“You're so fucking wet for me.”

The fact that he's gliding in and out of me with ease is proof enough of that. He picks up the pace, fucking me so hard that the table gives protest below us.

Pleasure swirls inside of me, the heat of him hammering into me gearing my body up for climax. For a moment, I think about asking him for permission to come. Then I say screw it, gasping as my body breaks from his carnal sex.

“Oh fuck!” he cries out, his grip tightening on the ropes around my wrists. He pushes into me hard, his balls slapping against my clit sending shuddering intensity into an already incredible orgasm.

I pant against the table, my hips instinctively moving back to meet him. Within seconds, I feel him swelling as he spurts into the condom. It's one of the best things I've felt all night, the extra bite of tightness from his dick pumping its juices, draining him of everything. His hands grope clumsily for my hips, and he presses all the way inside until his body has spent itself. I lay there with a blissful grin plastered across my face. Nothing could be more perfect.

***

Aftercare is comforting, but ever since I broke up with Robert, I've feared the closeness that comes with it. Sir Jeremy was nothing but kind to me after the scene. He unbound my wrists and soothed out the lingering burn on my ass with a gentle massage. Now I'm sitting on his lap in the middle of the club surrounded by strangers. Talking to his friends—pretending to make friends with them—feels too personal. I should have left the club the second that the scene was over, but I'm not ready to go home yet.

His arm is wrapped loosely around my waist. I've become an accessory. A show piece. They all know he fucked me. None of them care, though. He's probably fucked half of the girls in this place, if not more. And within a year's time, I'll probably have fucked half of the guys in this place. I don't need this false sense of closeness to him, especially since it was a one-time hookup for me.

I stay mostly quiet, observing rather than getting in on the conversation. Every once in a while, Sir Jeremy will ask me a question to make sure that I'm still somewhat engaged. I don't really feel like socializing though. The scene and rough sex have me pretty well worn out. All I want to do is relax and let the rest of the night pass by uneventful.

I lean against Sir Jeremy's chest, my eyelids growing heavy. Being in a man's arms does feel kind of nice. It reminds me of all of those nights that Robert and I spent curled up on the sofa together watching television. And suddenly I hate that a man is touching me, cuddling me. I push out of Sir Jeremy's arms and pull up a chair of my own. He gives me a queer look but doesn't argue. It's not like I tried to break away from him completely.

He offers me some alcohol and I take it, watching as he makes me a dry martini with the liquor and mixers spread out across the table. The group we're with is pretty big. Probably about fifteen kinksters. I'm way too lazy to count, and I don't particularly care.

As he makes my drink, my gaze shifts to a man standing in the public play area. He's leaning against the railing, staring down at me so intensely that it almost makes my heart stop. He is...breathtakingly handsome. Not in the sense that you look at a man and think he's gorgeous. Seeing him literally took my breath away.

His posture is perfect, his stance completely composed. The gray business suit he's wearing is pristine. His dark hair is slightly tousled, and judging by the way that the light is playing over his eyes, they're a pale shade. Probably blue. I'd like to get a closer look.

Suddenly, I feel trapped.

I offer him a smile, but his expression doesn't change. There's something about the way he's looking at me that makes me squirm internally. It's not just dominance. It's something else entirely though I can't quite place it.

Sir Jeremy nudges my shoulder, drawing my attention away to hand me my drink. Briefly, I wonder if he caught me gawking at the other guy. Then I remember that I don't care. He's nothing to me. Just a fuck for the night. And I'm nothing to him either. It doesn't matter that I'm already looking for my next conquest.

After taking a drink from the martini and wrinkling my nose(I don't particularly like martinis, but who is going to argue free alcohol), I snap back around to look for the man in the suit. He's gone. A hollowness fills my chest, irrational fear that I lost him. My body is coming back to life from seeing such a delicious morsel. Perhaps I could go for round two. It's not unheard of for a submissive to do two different scenes with two different Doms in one night, especially if she's unowned. Not unheard of, but also not very common. I think I'm up for it, though.

“Hey, are you alright?” Sir Jeremy asks, perhaps noticing that my head is turning like The Exorcist trying to relocate Sir Suit.

“I'm fine.” I flinch slightly when he touches my arm. “Just looking for someone.”

“You have a friend coming tonight?” He glances in the direction of the play area.

“No.” My jaw tightens out of annoyance from his curiosity.

He quirks an eyebrow, seemingly displeased, then turns back around to continue talking to his friends. Guilt rips through me. I know I just made it sound like I'm bored, and I instantly regret it. Am I being too selfish? Maybe I should just leave and let my hormones cool down. Sleeping with two men in one night is probably pushing it anyway.

I sulk in my chair, chugging down the martini to relax myself. The soreness between my legs tells me that I've had enough for one night. Enough sex. Enough pain. Enough bondage. Enough distraction.

I try to focus on the conversation, but the image of the man in the suit is burned into my mind. Every time I think about him, I feel drawn. It's such a weird feeling. Lust at first sight, perhaps? It happens a lot.

Sir Jeremy makes me another martini, and I take it down with just as much fervor as the last. Now that my gaze isn't straying, he doesn't seem so concerned about me. I'm quickly becoming restless, though, and the alcohol isn't helping.

Lazily, my eyes crawl over the room. Sir Suit is probably gone. Guys like that don't usually last long before they find a submissive. And patience isn't very common in places like this. Find what you want. Go for it. If that person says no or seems occupied, move on to the next.

I'm surprised when I see him sitting at a table in the corner of the room. Alone. His elbows are propped up on the table, his hands steepled. He's staring at me over them, his gaze every bit as intense as it was before. Those eyes. It's like he's able to bend me over the table and fuck me with them. I shudder, my pleasure core firing off from desire for him.

It may be greedy—it may look slutty—but I can't let this one get away. Not this one. I have a feeling he could rock my world and make me walk out of here bow-legged. Sir Jeremy has already done a good job of that, but for some reason, this new guy makes my body hungry all over again. I have to have a taste of him.

Without a word to the group, I slip off of my chair and try not to seem too hasty as I make a beeline for Sir Suit. His expression hasn't changed, even knowing that I'm coming straight towards him. It's a bit unsettling. Most Doms, I can easily read. There's something different about this guy though. Maybe that's why I want him so badly. Not only is he drop dead gorgeous, but he seems like a challenge.

I'm halfway to him when a firm pull on my arm causes me to spin on my heels. I groan internally when I come face to face with Sir Jeremy. He's wearing a caustic grin, and his grip is so tight that I can't even hope to pull out of it.

“Are you leaving?” He quirks his head slightly.

It's obvious that my answer can't be anything other than yes or he's going to get pissed off. Possessive much?

“Yes,” I hesitate, desperately wanting to look back at Sir Suit but knowing it would be the wrong move.

“Let me walk you out.” He lets go of me finally, motioning towards the door.

Fuck. There's no way out of this. I have to leave now.

I force a smile and flank his side, feeling a heaviness in my chest with every step that takes me further away from the handsome Dom in the corner of the room. Every potential scenario that could have happened fades away, and I can't help but wonder if I'll be lucky enough to see him again like I was to see Sir Jeremy tonight. Sir Jeremy was surrounded by people both times I came to Club Fet though. This guy is completely alone. It could mean that he's new. And if that's the case, then this was my only chance to be with him. That thought makes me grumpy, but I try my best not to show it. By the time we reach my car, my mood is beyond sour.