I nod. “Okay, okay,” I admit, “you were right. Nothing to worry about there.”
“Told ya,” she says with a wink behind her black lace mask, and I reach over and pinch her nipple through her robe and bra. She yelps then looks contrite, and I give her a devilish grin.
“Well, we’re here, sweet Evie. Is there like… a room or somewhere we can go?” I ask, looking around at the curtained off alcoves on the other sides of the booths.
She shakes her head. “Not yet. You have to be certified first.”
“Then where exactly do I get to enjoy my woman while we’re here until that happens?” I prompt, and she gestures around the club with her wine glass before taking a sip.
“Anywhere out in the open,” she replies, and I look around. Sure enough, there are people in all sorts of positions doing various sexual acts—inside the booths, up in the cages holding stripper poles, and right there on the dance floor. There are several people standing around and just watching, and somehow, they don’t look like creepers. They come across more like spectators, learning from the acts in front of them. It’s all voyeuristic and sensual, especially the couple beneath the two having sex in the cage, the man standing behind his woman, his arm wrapped around the front of her and his hand beneath her skirt as they watch. From the motion of his arm and the look on her face, he’s finger-fucking her good, and soon, her knees buckle as she comes loudly.
I blow out a breath. “And when does my training start exactly?”
“Fridays are Seven’s night off from training. But he has sessions all throughout the week and on Saturdays. I suppose Saturdays will be your night, since you’ll already be on this side of town and probably won’t be able to come during the school week,” she explains, and I nod, leaning over to kiss her cheek. “You’ll just have to make sure you don’t wear me out too badly on Friday evenings.”
I lift a brow. “And why is that?” I don’t like the idea of being limited on what I get to do to her.
She stares me in the eyes with her lips slightly pinched. “Because during training, I will have to come with you, since you’ll need a sub to practice his instructions on. And as jealous as you get over the idea of me being with any of these Doms in the past, I think you can understand quite clearly that I would not be okay with you using some other sub to train with.”
Her spike of possessiveness makes my cock strain against my zipper, and before I even plan my attack, I snatch her wine glass out of her hand and shove it and my water out of the way. I grip her around the waist, and she squeals as I haul her up on top of the table before me. I take hold of her left thigh and pull her leg to the other side of me, placing her feet on the cushioned seat. I grip her knees in my big hands, watching her tits bounce as she jumps when it tickles. My eyes lift to hers.
“I can promise you, little mouse, you are the only submissive I will ever lay a hand on,” I tell her, my voice deep and low.
She pouts out her bottom lip prettily. “There are other ways to dominate a sub without using your hands, Mr. Black,” she murmurs, and I have to reach down to adjust my raging erection.
“Then I promise you, sweet Evie, you’re my one and only. No part of me or object wielded by me will ever touch another woman but you, sub or otherwise,” I clarify, and she reaches down and between her knees to cup my cheek.
“You asking me to go steady?” she asks, her voice overdramatically breathy as she smiles.
“Oh, I’m not asking, little mouse,” I tell her, and I nip the inside of her thigh, making her squeak. “Now, lie back and hold still. Your Dom is suddenly very hungry.”
And like the good little sub she is, she does exactly that.
Epilogue
Seven years later
Evie
I pull at the straps holding my wrists hostage against the headboard, whimpering with need. He’s been teasing me for… I don’t even know how long. I’ve lost track of time. He’s brought me to the brink of orgasm over and over again, and I both love and hate this new fetish he’s suddenly been obsessed with, testing himself to see just how long he can stand not making me come. It’s a competition I wish he’d go ahead and vote himself the winner for. That is, until he finally eventually lets me come, and it’s so powerful I immediately fall headfirst into subspace.
But tonight feels like he’s going for an all-time record, or maybe I’m just extra needy. I look down my body, covered in a tight-fitting white lace bodice that meets a skirt that flares at the waist like a big, poofy princess dress. At least, it did as I walked down the aisle toward him this afternoon, my hand gripping Doc’s big bicep wrapped in a black tuxedo as he gave me away. For being such a big, tough man, it brought instant tears to my eyes the day I asked him if he’d be the one to give me away, and he’d gotten emotional, wiping a tear away and claiming there was dust in his eye.
Now though, the fluffy skirt was bunched up from my raised knees to my waist, looking like some kind of doctor’s curtain, hiding what is going on between my thighs. So I have no way of knowing just what Nathaniel is going to do before he does it.
His fingers stroke inside me, swirling upward and rubbing at the secret spot inside me that makes my toes cramp I curl them so hard. My eyes roll back in my head before I sit
