The Gate (Dark Path Series) (10 page)

He slapped his palms on either side of her face, landing his lips on hers, stealing her breath. She ate at his mouth, whimpering, shifting her legs.

“Now, remember your safe word.” Holding his cock, he thrust deep into her.

She bit down on his bottom lip, bringing blood. His mind blanked, and he rammed into her, pumping fast. She tried meeting him with each motion, but she locked her legs around his shoulders and couldn’t keep her grip on the headboard.

“More!” She arched her back.

He sped up, rocking forward. Sweat trickled down the side of his face. Some dripped on Erika’s chest and stomach. Leaning down, he licked away the salty drops, clamping his mouth around her breast. He sucked hard, fucking her relentlessly as she cried out his name. He squeezed her thighs, wanting his fingerprints all over her, for her to remember their night together.

Fuck, he wanted to come. She felt so damn good. But he held back his climax. Sliding in and out, her cunt drenched his cock while his balls slapped under her ass with each thrust. He lifted her legs higher, bending them until her knees met her chest. To his amazement she came from the new force of the position and the particular way he hit her G-spot.

Never had a woman come so many times with him. He had yet to come once!

He gave her more until she stilled, her eyes drifting shut. Worried she had passed out, he lowered her legs. He leaned forward, cupping her cheeks. Her eyelids flickered open, and she smiled. Laughing, he kissed her.

“Erika, you are it. The one.” Moving his hands up, he gripped hers and came.

His body jerking, he roared from the force of his release.

“Max,” she whispered.

Before he closed his eyes, he spotted the tears slipping down her cheeks. He licked them away then collapsed on her as the last of his orgasm petered off. Exhaustion swept over him. Damn, it was like he’d run a marathon.

With little to no strength left, he rose up on his knees to study his beautiful bounty. His and no other’s. His heart was ready to burst. Euphoric, he untied her from the bed then rubbed her arms and wrists to bring back circulation.

He’d never felt this unnerving fascination with another lover or one of his submissives. But with this woman he’d fucked within an inch of her life, he feared he had lost a piece of his soul.

She opened her eyes, clutching his upper arms. “Hold me?”

Her request humbled him. The trust she gave him after he’d used her in such a rough manner. Not bothering to take off the condom, he enveloped her in his arms, her curls tickling his nose. Not caring about the sweat or stickiness coating their bodies, he pulled her close.

“Thank you.” He ran his hand up and down her back.

She didn’t say anything, having fallen asleep in his embrace, her soft snores lulling him into a state of relaxation.

Chapter Nine

Catherine shook hands with the couple. They’d decided to do something extra special for their tenth wedding anniversary and came to her for help in setting it up. She was honored she could be part of such a memorable occasion. Motioning to one of the bodyguards to come over, she handed him the keys to one of the third floor rooms.

“Steve will escort you up to the room where one of my assistants will help you get ready. I’ll join you soon after.”

“I’m so excited. I can’t wait to start!” The woman squealed, giving Catherine a hug.

She awkwardly patted the woman’s back. She wasn’t used to a guest being affectionate
unless they asked permission first. But since Mr. and Mrs. Rimini were regulars, and she’d helped them celebrate a previous anniversary, she was fine with the embrace.

When Mrs. Rimini released her, Catherine shooed them away. “Go get ready. I’ll see you shortly.”

Mr. Rimini grabbed his wife’s hand, and both followed Steve down the hall.

Slouching against the wall, she wiped her forehead. Just ten o’clock and she was already wiped out. It had been a long week—first going over the billing with The Gate’s accountant and then Raymond’s unrelenting persistence regarding the future of their relationship. She’d been tempted to call Max, telling him she was under the weather, but since she had already called out sick a few weeks ago to recover from the intense beating and sexual torture her master had given her, she decided she didn’t have any excuse.

“I need a long vacation,” she muttered. Walking down the hall, she entered the lounge area.
Come the first of the year, I’m taking time off regardless of what Max wants.
She needed a long break away from everything—especially Raymond. They’d talked the day before on the phone for over two hours. By the end, she’d been a quivering mess. Phone sex had never been so good. But it didn’t help her sleep. Every night she tossed and turned, so lonely. It wouldn’t have mattered if she’d been with the sexy Frenchman. He wasn’t much of a cuddler, and her teddy bear she’d kept since she was six years old didn’t give her the comfort like a male body spooning her while she slept.

First, she would do a shot then she would change into her gear and give the Riminis the best anniversary present they’d ever experienced.

She walked behind the bar and stopped. Bryan sat in what she considered “his spot”.
Damn, he’s hot.
The young man in his long sleeved, button-down gray shirt stared at her while she poured a shot of Patron. She downed the alcohol without any salt or lime, allowing the smooth burn to settle in her stomach. He didn’t look away once.

Two women approached him, one whispering in his ear. He waved them away. Lifting his glass, he shook it.

She pointed at herself and mouthed,
“Me?”.

Nodding, he mouthed back
, “Yes”
and smiled.

He’s so cute.
With a sigh, she walked over to him. “What’ll it be?” she asked without any greeting or other pleasantries.

He pushed back his hair, his shirtsleeve sliding up his arm. Unless she examined closer, she couldn’t see his scarring—not that she was interested in analyzing his marred body part.

“Good evening, Cathy. Rough night already?” He motioned to her shot.

Setting the glass on the bar, she tucked her hands in the back pockets of her black leather pants. “It’s Catherine, not Cathy,” she corrected him. “I wanted something stronger other than soda or juice. I have to help out in one of the rooms. A married couple requested I join them in celebrating their tenth wedding anniversary.”

“Can you tell me what’s going to happen behind the closed door, or do I guess?” The corners of his mouth tilted upward, causing a dimple to appear near his cheek. “Or is it against the rules to say?”

His dimple was her undoing. She waited until a nearby group got their drinks from another bartender. Once they left, she leaned over the bar in front of him. He answered by moving in closer. When his hands landed on her arms, she stopped herself from flinching. Regardless, he broke into a huge grin, seeming to know how he affected her.

“Unless someone is interested in buying a package, I won’t share what goes on in the rooms, especially on the third floor. They can rent a room with their partner or partners or buy the services from one of our instructors.”

“The third floor has more intense playtime than what happens on the first and second floors?” His fingers circled her wrist.

“Yes. We have twelve rooms on the third floor, three of which are rented out to people who are experts in their fields. The other nine rooms are open for anyone and cost the most. The couple I’ll be seeing in a few minutes paid me ten-thousand dollars each for ninety minutes.” She licked her dry lips, and not even thinking, took a sip of Bryan’s juice.

His cheek touched hers, his mouth landing right under her ear. “What scene will you be playing out with them?” he asked in a hushed, yet enthusiastic voice.

Extracting one of her hands, she toyed with his hair. It was as silky as she thought it would be. He let out a sigh, his breath rushing down the side of her throat and under the edge of her tube top, causing her nipples to throb. She rubbed her thighs together, finding her pussy damp and achy—perfect for what she had to do soon. For most sessions, she took a few minutes alone to masturbate or used some type of sex toy to prime herself for when she took on the dominant role. No need to now.

“The husband wishes to be gagged and restrained to something called a St. Andrew’s Cross
. His wife will be tied, spread eagle to a bed. I’ll torture both with various instruments at my disposal. I’ll beat and tease the husband mercilessly but won’t allow him to come. After I’ve pleasured his wife, then I’ll let him to come.”

“And how will you let him come? I thought you don’t have sex with your…subs, is that what you call it?” he asked in a strained voice.

Hmm, Junior must be excited.
His firm grip as well as his tense shoulders and neck were good indications he was aroused.

“The better term is submissive. I don’t have sex with the men. I’ll beat and whip them, and stroke their cocks, but I’ll never blow them, stick my tongue in their ass, or let them fuck me in any other orifice. The same goes with the women, but since I’ve known the couple for years, I’ll give the wife more than a tickle with a vibrator or a good fuck with one of my dildos.”

“It sounds hot as hell. I’d love to watch.” He breathed heavily, his mouth flat on her cheek. “Or better yet, I want to purchase your services after you finish.”

She brushed a strand of hair behind his ear. He shuddered and smiled. She patted his shoulder then untangled her hand from his. Grabbing her shot, she swallowed it.

“So, what do you say?”

She would say no but would play along. “What would you like me to do to you?”

Fishing out an ice cube from his glass, he sucked on it and chewed loudly. “Tie me up, beat me then take my virginity. But it wouldn’t be just ninety minutes. I would want you for the entire night.”

She squeezed the bridge of her nose. “I told you I don’t fuck the men here. There’s a good reason for
—”

“What if I paid you one hundred thousand for you to torture me and end it with you popping my cherry? Most guys my age dream for their first time to be with a smoking hot older babe.”

She didn’t find it cute or charming to be asked to deflower him. The money he offered wasn’t worth it. He had no idea she didn’t just work over someone for the hell of it. She had her reasons, none of which she was willing to share with him.

“Junior, I’m not a prostitute. I don’t have sex for money. Never have. You have no understanding of my position here or my skill as a dominatrix. I’m more of a therapist if anything. I even have a degree in psychology.”

Flags of red spotted his cheeks. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

She pressed her palm to his face while he studied the bar.

“Look at me,” she said in a voice she used when she was in one of her roles. She snapped her fingers.

He obeyed.

She cupped his chin, tapping her thumb over the indent in the middle. “You think what we’re doing is just fun and games. I shouldn’t be surprised because of your age and how clueless you really are. It’s best if you go to some other club to learn how to—”

His hand shot out, dragging hers up until he kissed her palm. Desperation lurked in his eyes. “I don’t want to go anywhere else. I belong here.
I belong with you.
Be my teacher. Introduce me your world. I-I can’t go anywhere else. I’m afraid I’ll break down and go back to…how I used to fill the empty void consuming me. Educate me. Please.”

His fingers shook as he ran his mouth and tongue along her palm. She should have been disgusted by the pitiful display, but she sympathized. How could she not? She wasn’t that much of a heartless bitch. He’d been through so much in his life, and at such a young age. Bryan might put on a good show, an indifference others saw, but she understood his true nature. A storm had been brewing in him for years. All the pent up emotion needed to be released before he imploded. But was she the right one to help him break down, open himself up in a way that might destroy him in the process?

“Okay, okay calm down.” She jerked her hand. He released her, and she glanced around. No one in the area seemed to have noticed anything strange, not even the guy sitting alone on a couch mesmerized by the couple dancing erotically behind the windowed panel over the bar.

She checked her watch. Shit, she was going to be late. She crooked her finger at him. “Follow me.”

He slid from the stool, excitement coming off of him in waves, and trailed her to the edge of the staircase.
Poor kid thinks he’s going to get laid.

Bryan was a tall one. He had a good six inches on her with long legs encased in some type of black slacks and a slim waist she was jealous of. Self-conscious from the way he stared at her like she was going to give him something precious, she twisted her belly button ring around.

“Here’s the deal. We’re going to play a little game of endurance. If my couple permits it, I’ll allow you to sit in on the session. But there are rules. You must remain quiet. If you try to stop anything or join in, I’ll ban you from the club for life.” Her ears started ringing over what she was offering him. “If you can last the full ninety minutes without orgasming, I’ll do whatever you want, but at the price you offered earlier.” She held out her hand for him to shake. “Do we have a deal?”

He tugged on his bottom lip with his teeth while he studied the floor. “I’ve watched all types of sex acts before and never came.” A rueful smile appeared. “But right after, I had to take care of myself. My orgasm was amazing.” He grasped her fingers, seeming to grow taller. The uncertainty surrounding him before
vanished, cockiness taking its place.

His handshake was warm, and she noticed how well her hand fit in his. Needing to be the one to end their shake, she released her grip, finding he all but bounced on his heels.

She refused to laugh. This wasn’t the time for shits and giggles. His lesson started now.

“Let’s go. I’ll tell you the rest of the rules. You must follow them to the very letter.” She took him by the arm, leading him up the stairs.

***

He crossed his ankles, trying to stop his dick from twitching. Ever since Catherine told him he would watch a session, he’d been revved up. He was also nervous, about ready to piss his pants. All he needed to do was watch and make sure he didn’t come. He didn’t want to disappoint Cathy—that’s what he liked calling her, even though she didn’t want him to. Maybe one day soon when he became her submissive, she’d let him call her by that nickname. He had definite plans for them, one of which would have her riding him while she made him a man.

His dick poked the inside of his thigh. He’d been plagued with a penis his doctor had told him was longer than most. He hoped she would appreciate that since the few girls he’d fooled around with had
oo-ed
and
ah-ed
when they blew him or jerked him off. Unlike those immature spoiled brats, they couldn’t compete with his Cathy, who was all woman and would train him how to please her. He now understood why he’d been blessed with such a large dick. It was for her to own and treasure.

He rested his head on the wall, impatient for her to let him into the room.

The door opened. He stepped away from the wall and stared, his heart jumping into his throat, cutting off his breath. Catherine wore an outfit that made him want to fall to his knees and kiss her feet.

She was in head-to-toe leather from her killer stiletto boots, the same leather pants she had on earlier, up to her super tight vest with no shirt underneath. Her breasts were thrust up so high, part of her nipples peeked through the sides. Elbow length leather gloves covered her arms, and circling her neck was a silver pearl choker
.

He started to compliment her, but she clutched the front of his shirt and shoved him into the wall. Her palm dropped over his mouth. He inhaled the aroma of leather, musk, and sweat. It wasn’t offensive at all, but more like an aphrodisiac.