Longing: Club Inferno (8 page)

“Mistress Claire had your necktie around your throat,” Anya said, leaning up on her knees so she didn’t put her full weight on him.

If Clint noticed her thighs trembling from the effort, he didn’t mention it. Arching his back, his hardness rubbed against her.

“Then she rode me, pulling on the necktie like it was reins. Each buck”—he demonstrated. Anya went off balance and caught herself on Clint’s shoulders. It put her breasts very close to his face. She would have backed off, but he held her there—“tightened the knot until my air was cut off.”

Sprawled on top of him, feeling him pressed to her intimately, Anya wanted him to strip the dress off her. She couldn’t wait to see his face when he saw the corset. “What happened?” she whispered, her mouth scant inches from his.

“The room narrowed to a tunnel and each pump and thrust made me light-headed, but the pleasure was worth it. I almost passed out, but Mistress Claire was an expert. She eased up on the tugging as she came. Then she allowed me to come. She kept the noose tight, but I could still breathe.”

Anya swallowed, her throat dry. “I’m not sure I would like that.”

“It’s not something I would do with a beginner.”

Pushing herself back up so she was sitting up again, Anya took the hem of her dress and pulled it up and over her head.

“Wow,” Clint choked out.

Rubbing herself over his hardness, Anya steadied her balance.

“I’d like to take these panties off and spank that ass of yours red.”

Crinkling her nose, Anya shook her head. “I’m not into pain.”

His hands clamped on her panties. “It just stings a bit at first.”

“I’m afraid I’ll turn around and belt you one.”

Clint breathed out, “What about tying you up?”

“Maybe,” Anya said. “What would you do to me?”

“Anything you want.” He eased into a rhythm underneath her that made her gasp and clutch his shoulders. “Or anything I wanted.”

That shiver hit her again.

“Like what?”

He moved fast, spilling her onto her back, covering her. His hands forced hers over her head, while his mouth captured hers. Anya opened for the kiss, so sweet and soft. It belied the forceful way he held her. Hooking her leg around his, she gasped when he used that opening to rock between her legs.

God, she could come again just from the friction and his talented mouth. She tried to free her hands, but he held her firm. Anya put her mind and her back into it. Soon they were wrestling, or rather she was. He was unmovable. She refused to give in to panic, but he wasn’t even struggling. He could do anything he wanted to her and she would be powerless.

“Let me go,” she whispered as the fear tainted the experience.

He did and rolled off her, but only to his side. Propping himself up on his elbow, he smiled down at her. “Are you okay?”

She nodded, not sure she could trust her voice. This was scary, and she was starting to think the kink wasn’t worth the gorgeous man next to her.

“Touch me,” he said.

Relieved, she ran her hands over the muscled planes of his shoulders and chest. His hands were behaving themselves and she had that twinge of fear that this wasn’t as real to him as it was to her. Was he playing a game with her? Clint went for a kiss.

Moving her mouth away, Anya took deep gulps of air, while Clint trailed soft kisses down her cheek and throat.

“We should talk about expectations,” Anya said when she got her mind to focus on something other than his hard body.

“I know a few of your hard limits. No public displays of nudity?” Clint stroked her cheek.

“I’m not sub material,” she said, hoping she wasn’t blowing this. “I’ve worked too hard at my self-esteem to give it over for amazing sex.”

Clint frowned. “There are all sorts of master/slave combinations as well as Dominant/submissive. Don’t think this has to be me leading you around by a chain on your neck. Although, I would like to see you on your knees and collared in front of me. But that takes trust and intimacy that you and I don’t have yet.” He pressed a kiss to her lips. “Yet.”

Playing with the hair at the back of his neck, she resisted the urge to move restlessly against him. “I don’t think that would do anything for me but annoy me.”

“Okay.” He grinned. “What about role-playing?”

Playing a part, she understood. It was why she wanted to be an actress. Heck, it might even be good practice. “As much as I’d like to say what big”—she tugged on his earlobe—“ears you have, I’d like to know what is real and what is fantasy before we get into anything.”

“What do you want out of our time together?” Clint asked the question with another sweet kiss.

“This is nice,” she said.

“Did you like getting off in the crowd?”

“I liked being with you. It was naughty, but part of me was afraid of being caught.”

“Didn’t that add to the excitement?” he asked, turning her jaw so he could kiss down her throat to the tops of her breasts.

Anya’s toes curled. “I don’t know.”

“Why are you here?” Clint asked, exploring the corset top.

Finally.

“I wanted to be with you,” she whispered, wondering what the admission would cost her.

She was rewarded with a sexy grin. “But you see, you’re in my dungeon, and I call the shots. Are you willing to give me control?”

Poised on a precipice she could barely understand, Anya knew her answer mattered more than he was letting on.
Damn it.
She shook her head. “I don’t follow orders well.”

His grin turned diabolical. “That’s what I’m here for. If you don’t follow orders, I will punish you.”

“How about we just have mind-blowing sex?”

“We could do both.”

Anya considered it as he continued to kiss her, but he didn’t make a move to take off her corset or underwear. Was she missing something? Was he waiting for her? It didn’t escape her notice that he didn’t say he wanted to be with her too.

“Tell me about the punishments,” she said, easing away from him. He was unsettling to her resolve. Anya sat up on the edge of the bed. Her ardor cooling, it was hard not to feel silly.

Clint sat next to her. “You’ve kyboshed the fun stuff.”

“Fun for you,” she said. “You’re not the one getting your ass beat.”

He considered her for a moment. “Maybe we should slow this down a bit.”

Anya closed her eyes.
Here it comes. “You’re a nice girl, but I’m just not into you.” At least it wasn’t “My mom thinks you’re too fat and too common to marry.”

“Hey.” He held her hand. “Tell me what you’re thinking?”

Not a chance in hell of that.
Blinking back tears, she plastered a big bright smile on her face. “I think we’re overthinking this.” She stood up, snatching her dress off the floor.

“What did I miss?” Clint asked, his brow furrowed.

Slipping it back on, she shimmied it down her hips. “This isn’t going to work.”

He stood. “It will. If you want it to.”

“I think I’ll bore you.”

“I’m not bored.” Clint moved in, but the room was too stifling and she fumbled for the doorknob.

The dungeon’s oppressive darkness was surprisingly welcome as she darted into the shadows. She wasn’t quite running away from him. He caught up to her when she got lost in the darkened corners. Either he had eyes like a cat or he knew these corridors like the back of his hand.

“I’m not a sub,” she said as his hands landed on her shoulders. “I can’t be.”

Clint rubbed them in a soft, soothing circle. “Okay.”

“Okay what?” She crossed her arms.

“So we don’t play dominance games.”

Anya turned to face him. His expression was masked in the dim light. She couldn’t tell if he was disappointed or not.

“What’s the catch?”

He choked off a laugh. “No catch. I want you.”

Her knees shook. “You do?”

“Don’t sound so surprised.” He took her in his arms. “I can’t keep my hands off you, and I’ve been fantasizing about you for a few months now. Have a little pity on my poor libido.”

Arching an eyebrow at him, she said, “I don’t think you’ve been depriving yourself.”

“Perish the thought.”

Cuddling into him, she said, “I’m not looking for a serious relationship.”

His hand froze where he had been stroking her hair, and his body clenched. He took a deep breath and let it out harshly. “Of course. I’m not your type, right?”

“Are you kidding? You’re everyone’s type,” Anya said. “I just have bad luck with good-looking men.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“What do you want out of this?” Anya said.

“You. Tied up, begging for me. Your sweet mouth on every inch of me. Your legs on my shoulders while I’m deep inside you.”

The image was distracting. Anya wanted to experience that. It sounded so damn good. Some fun sex. Her heart would be safe.

“So, you’re okay with not doing the whips and chains?” she asked.

“There are other ways to experience kink.” He tucked a hair behind her ear. “Let’s take a walk through the dungeon. It would be a shame to waste that dress.”

Clint tamped down the disappointment. It wasn’t as if he should expect to find someone interested in an actual relationship in a sex club, but he had hoped Anya would be different. All he was to anyone was just a stripper, just a Dom. He supposed it was his own fault for fingering her in the back of the pole-dancing class. It probably would have been a better idea to take her out for dinner first. For once in his life, take things slow and normal. But that wasn’t him and if it scared her off, so be it. Still, he was going to enjoy their time together. He slipped an arm around her and hugged her to his side.

“Let’s go out to dinner tomorrow. Somewhere outside of Couture.”

He held his breath, waiting for her answer. If she came up with an excuse, he’d fuck her and forget her. Cut his losses.

Instead, she gave him a smile that was infectious. “I’d love that.” Then her face creased and he felt stupid for letting his expectations get the better of him. “But I can’t.”

He kept the smile on his face but dropped his arm.

“I’m on this stupid diet. If I don’t drop a boatload of weight, I’m not going to get a part in the stage version of
Some Like It Hot
. It’s way off-Broadway, but still…” Her voice trailed off and she looked so wistful that his heart clenched.

“You have to eat.” Clint was surprised he was fighting for this.

Fuck her and forget her.

“Actually, I’ve been drinking these protein shakes.” She made a screwy face that was part Lucille Ball and part Bill the Cat.

“Okay,” he said. It was a creative blow-off, but he’d had worse.

“It’s not just a part,” she said, walking on ahead of him. “It’s a damn quest.”

“Wouldn’t that be
Spamalot
?”

Grabbing his hand, she smiled up at him again. Damn, she was incredible. Maybe she’d give him a chance when he had his own bar. “Do you like tequila?” he asked.

“Tequila and I have a long and somewhat checkered past. Do you know that country song ‘Tequila Makes Her Clothes Fall Off’?”

“Bartender!” Clint called, waving to the man dressed up like a saloon innkeeper at the far end of the room.

“I once drank a mariachi player under the table.”

“I’m impressed.” He steered her toward the bar.

“To be fair I probably outweighed him by a few pounds.” She darted a glance up at him from thick, sooty black lashes.

“I like your body,” he said
. Too much.

They moved to a small bar area where cowgirls and cowboys intermingled.

“
Dos añejos,
” Clint said.

The bartender poured them two shots of the good stuff.

Anya pressed closer to Clint. Following her gaze, he saw Jana tied to a large wheel. She was naked and writhing in pleasure. Clint trailed his fingers down Anya’s side to rest on her ass. He bunched her dress up in his hand, remembering the small black panties she wore.

“Don’t try that at home,” he said as Dante tossed three daggers into the wheel by Jana’s head.

“Are those real?” Anya whispered.

He nodded. “Yeah, but Dante is a pro. He worked a few venues with my parents.”

“Your parents are into the club scene?”

Clint had to laugh at her tone. “No, they’re traveling entertainers. Carnival, not sex.” He repressed a shudder and shut down his mind before it went there. He pushed her shot toward her. She licked up the side of her thumb, not knowing how hard seeing that tongue made him. Sprinkling salt on it, Anya licked it again and slammed back the shot. She sucked on a lemon wedge.

He tossed his back, smiling at the burn of the alcohol down his throat. Her lips would be tart and if he kissed her right now they’d taste like tequila. He pictured that corset and those little black panties when she was astride him. Gesturing to the bartender for two more, he rested his hip against hers.

“So you never wanted to run away and join the circus when you were a little boy?”

She was adorable when she teased him, a dimple appearing on her cheek.

“You can only shovel so much elephant shit before the glamour fades.”

They watched as Dante spun the wheel and sank three more daggers into it, narrowly missing Jana.

“Notice he’s not aiming anywhere near her head or any major arteries when the wheel is in motion. I’m not saying he can’t miss, but if he does it’s a flesh wound more than a mortal injury. And Jana wouldn’t mind if he cut her a bit.”

Anya’s eyes grew wide.

Clint shrugged. “Different strokes for different folks. There isn’t a cookie-cutter response to sex. So based on your reaction, I guess cutting is out too.” He gave her a quick hug. “I’m just giving you shit. You’re more vanilla than you let on.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

He almost got lost in her deep brown eyes.

“No,” he said, wishing he could find some common ground with her. “So let’s find out what turns you on,” he said. “We’ll bypass the spankings and canings.”

Anya winced. “I don’t mean to be such a wimp.”

He glanced around the open scene. “I know you don’t like to be watched, but what about watching?” Gesturing with his chin, he pointed out a cowgirl in a skimpy skirt, lassoing a cowboy wearing spurs and not much else.

“I get a little embarrassed,” she admitted.

“Is that why you ran away from me at the orgy last month?”

“So that
was
you,” she said, looking down into the second shot.

“I was hoping to have you sit on my lap and fuck me.” Clint was delighted to see her blush a deep red. “How do you talk dirty to all those people, and I can embarrass you with the F word?”

“It’s the distance thing,” she said. She did her ritual with the salt and lemon again. Her eyes opened wide. “Wow, that’s even better the second time around.”

He finished his. “Want another?”

“Nope, too much alcohol on an empty stomach will make this night end a lot quicker than I want it to.”

The words warmed him. Or maybe it was the tequila. He didn’t care. “Tell me about Vegas. Were you a showgirl?”

She shook her head. “No way. I’m not the right profile. Besides, I can’t kick that high. I was doing phone sex in Vegas.”

“You never said the F word?”

“I did. But you’d be surprised that the callers aren’t always looking for dirty talk. A lot of time it’s just kink.”

“I’m not surprised at all,” Clint said, indicating the dungeon. “There’s not a lot of sex here either.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Oh, it’s all sexual—don’t get me wrong. But most of the time, it’s more about control and kink. People feel safe to act out their fetishes because no one will judge them. That is more powerful and satisfying than actual penetration and sharing bodily fluids.”

Anya grimaced. “You make it sound so unromantic.”

“Do you want romance, sweetheart?” He trailed his fingers down her cheek.

“No way,” she said. “Not worth the heartache that comes when it’s all over.”

“Bad breakup?”

“The worst. He got married right after he dumped me. Then took a mistress.”

“Sounds like you dodged a bullet.”

Anya gestured to the wheel. “My whole life feels like that. Only whoever is throwing knives at me isn’t as skilled as Master Dante.”

Clint scowled. He didn’t like her using the deferential title for anyone but him. “Is Dante your master?”

“No, he just scares the crap out of me.”

Clint’s lips twitched. “You never played Dominatrix on your phone sex line?”

Anya scooted up onto the bar stool and crossed her legs. “I might have said the words ‘crawl to me, slave.’ But that’s different.”

“ ‘Crawl to me, slave’?” He would call up a sex line to hear her say that to him.

“There was just a disembodied voice on the other end of the phone. When you say it, it’s a real chick obeying you. In my class, all those people aren’t thinking about doing me. I’m not the center of attention. We just have a good time.”

An idea hit Clint that had his dick hardening even more. “I’ve got the perfect scene for us.”

“You still want to do a scene with me? Even after all my hard limits?”

“More than anything,” he said. “But you’re going to have to trust me.”

Anya angled her head and he tried not to preen under her intense scrutiny. “No one but you and I in the scene.”

“Absolutely.” He wasn’t going to share her.

“No pain. No humiliation. No extreme stuff.”

“Not a problem. Do you want to be more specific on the extreme stuff?”

Anya blushed again. “I think you have a good idea what I won’t like.”

“Deal.” He held out his hand.

“What do you get out of this?” she asked, shaking it with a firm grip.

“Same thing you do,” he said. “Now, come on. I won’t boss you around too much, but you are going to have to follow directions if this is going to work.”

Taking a deep, shaky breath, she nodded. “Let’s go.”

He pulled a silk blindfold out of his pocket.

“What else you got in there?” She batted her eyelashes at him.

“Feel free to put your hand in there to find out.” Clint wrapped the silk around her head and tied it securely. “Okay?” he asked.

Touching the blindfold, Anya said, “Yes. It’s not too tight.”

He put his arm around her shoulders and led her deeper through Club Inferno, past the public scenes and the semiprivate ones. Resisting the urge to pull aside a curtain and have Anya just listen to the sounds of pain and pleasure, he curbed his inner bastard and led her to his studio. Closing the door behind him, he hit the lights.

His camera was on the tripod, and he walked Anya over to the red X taped on the floor.

“I want you to stand here, very still. We’re going to do a role-play.”

“Okay.” She gave him a shy smile and he couldn’t resist a quick kiss on those lips. She did taste like tequila.

“Can I get you to shimmy out of that dress again?”

Nodding, Anya shrugged out of the red confection and it puddled at her feet. He helped her step away from it. When he bent down to pick it up, he kissed her thigh. She gasped and jumped a bit.

“Steady,” he said, sliding his body along hers as he stood up. “I’m going to hang this up so it doesn’t get wrinkled.” He kissed her creamy shoulder and tasted her neck again. “Beautiful,” he whispered in her ear. She tugged on her corset and covered herself with her hands. “Relax,” he whispered in her other ear. He liked how she shivered in anticipation.

After putting the dress on the coatrack, Clint went back to the equipment. He centered the camera so only her full, red lips were in the shot. His control board was next to the camera and he toggled on the sound effect of a ringing phone.

Anya startled again at the sound.

“You’re a phone sex operator,” Clint said. “Answer the phone.” He turned on the camera.

“Hello,” she said, a smile playing around those luscious lips.

Perfect.

“Hi, I’m Clint.”

The smile broadened. “Hi, Clint, what can I do for you today?”

“What are you wearing?”

“I have on a tight, black corset that’s pushing my tits together.” Her voice lowered and took on a husky note that made his cock twitch.

“That sounds nice. What else?” Easing open the button and zipper, he pulled off his pants and shoes while she talked.

“Lace panties. They’re black too.”

“You like the color black?”

“Uh-huh,” she murmured, and it was almost a moan. Man, she was sexy as hell.

“Go on.”

“I’ve got on a garter belt and silk stockings.”

“Can you keep those on when I fuck you?” he asked, peering into the camera.

“Oh yeah,” she said.

Clint zoomed out so her entire body was in the frame.

“How would you like to get fucked?” Adjusting the lights, he made the studio appear to have a smoky nightclub appearance. He turned a soft spotlight on her and tinted it with a hint of rose.

“Hard, fast, and…often.”

Clint grinned. He could do that.

“What would you do if I was in the room with you?” Making sure the camera was set, he moved around to her back, staying out of the shot for as long as he could.

“Anything you wanted.”

“Good answer,” he said in her ear. The lacings on her corset were tight. He loosened them a bit. “Tell me more.”

“I…” She hesitated as the corset slipped down. Swallowing hard, she went on. “I’d undo my corset and show you my tits.”

He tugged on the corset; it dropped to her waist and her breasts bounced out. He put his hands on her shoulders and leaned her back a bit so they would be featured on camera for a moment.

“Can I touch them?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

He moved in close, pressing his erection into her black panties. His hands cupped them, offered them to the camera. Rolling her nipples between his fingers, he trailed his tongue down the shell of her ear.

“What else can I do to them?”

“You could put your fat cock between them and fuck them.”

Clint bit down on her earlobe more sharply than he wanted, his vision hazed with desire.

“Ow,” she said with a laugh.

“Sorry,” he muttered, and sucked on it to make it better.

Her ass rubbed into his. “You like that idea? Does it make your cock hard?”

“Yeah,” he whispered in her ear. Her shiver felt delicious. “Would you like me to come all over those gorgeous tits and pretty neck?”

“Yes,” she said, her voice strained. His fingers plucked her nipples, then smoothed around her areolas. The skin puckered and a soft moan escaped her. “Or would you rather come down my throat?”

Clint rested his forehead on her shoulder. “Are you trying to kill me?”

A delighted laugh trickled out of her, only to be cut off when he ripped her panties off. He rubbed his cock against her lush, round ass. “Do you like to suck dick?”

“Yes.”

“If I handcuff you”—he brought her wrists together behind her back—“would you get on your knees and suck me off?”

“Depends,” the little minx said.

“On what?” Clint nudged her legs apart with his knee.

“If you go down on me first.”

“Deal.”

He stepped away from her and went back to the camera, switching it off while he set the next scene.