Chapter 10
Chapter
Ten
Fox
I’m waiting in Dimitri’s office for Kitten.
My body still hurts from the aftereffects of the panic attack.
My chest is sore and I have a lingering headache.
Dimitri likes to keep his office lights low, which is exactly what I need.
I’ve got two masks in my hands, trying to decide which one to wear.
One is the basic mask I’ve been wearing, Xs for eyes and a smile.
The other is more sinister. I have an array of masks that get used in various rotations. “Which one?” I lift both of them.
Dimitri sneers when he sees it. “I don’t like that one either.” He points to the one with the Xs for eyes, “but that’s better than the creepy clown one.” Then he laughs and claps his hands. “Masked man who works for the Four Families—you’re the Phantom of the Mafia.”
“That’s not funny.” I pause, my hand on the door, keeping my distance.
“Sure it is. And your Kitten is your little opera singer, Christine Daae.”
“I wouldn’t expect that to be in your wheelhouse.” I frown.
He shrugs. “My girlfriend said I lacked literary analysis skills, so I got into reading. Then I fell into a rabbit hole of Amanda Chase pop culture references. Turns out she’s a theater kid and, poof, I read the book and saw the movie, both of them.”
Nerd and fan of cheesy pop music. I’m sort of losing respect for him by the day. Hard to imagine him as a menacing figure now.
I was just going to tell him about the panic attack and the events of the afternoon, but now I don’t know what sort of advice he would give. Or worse, if he’d even take it seriously.
Did I screw everything up with her? Can I balance both Fox and Ryan? Does Ryan even stand a chance while Fox is around?
Kitten/Amber has been second in my thoughts next to impending death thanks to a broken system that has fewer morals than the mob bosses I work for.
Every time I see Kitten, she pushes me past my boundaries.
She’s never asked for sex, but I can tell she’s getting antsy and more disappointed each day.
“She’s here,” Jade, the receptionist, calls into the office.
I can do this. Keep it professional. Stick to the rules and everything will be fine. I put my phone in my locker, but not before seeing a message from Bear.
Bear: Saw your girl at work … rules are meant to be broken, buddy.
Me: She’s not my girl.
I throw my phone into the locker, slamming the door so hard it bounces back open. The second time, I close it slower, steadier. That’s the trick—slow, steady, careful.
I pull the mask down over my face and take a deep breath. The first one is always the hardest. It takes a few breaths to get acclimated, but when I make it to the room, I’m ready. Remember—you are Fox. Calm. In control. No one knows about your past.
She’s standing in the center of the room, one hand on the table, staring at the toys I laid out on the counter.
Her dress balances that sweet-but-sexy-as-hell vibe I’ve come to expect from her.
When she turns toward me, I’m in deep shit.
Those green eyes with lashes for days, pouty lips, that softness in her face. I am fucked.
“Hi.” She swallows, her mouth opening and closing before she turns away.
“Are you ready to begin?” I ask, stepping closer. She nods. “How are you feeling?”
“Nervous. Excited. And a little concerned about where you plan on putting all that.” She motions toward the toys, dildos in varying sizes, and a container of lube.
“I won’t do anything you’re not ready for.” I brush her shoulder with my index finger. Her breathing changes—slower now. My finger traces down her arm and pauses at her wrist.
She smiles and rests her head on my shoulder. I should step away, create distance, but I don’t want to. But what I should do and what I want to do with her are constantly battling. I step in front of her. “Do you want to show me what you picked to wear?”
Her eyes light up as she does a little twirl. “Do you like it?” Before I can answer, she adds, “There’s much sexier stuff underneath, but I have one request.”
At this point, she could ask for pretty much anything. “Go on.”
“Can you leave the corset on the longest? It was such a pain in the ass to get on.”
“Take off the dress, Kitten.” The Ryan part of me cringes at the order, but Fox is in control, and she likes it when he tells her what to do.
The zipper crawls slowly down her back, exposing her shoulders, then the lace of the corset. She pushes the dress over her hips. Spinning on her toes, she turns around. “Ta-da!”
Not the sensual reveal I expected—but nothing with her ever goes according to plan. Still, she makes it worth it. The corset pushes her breasts up, hugging every curve. My dick twitches.
“I like it. Go pick out something you want to play with.”
She bounces on her toes and heads to the table. She picks up one of the stimulators shaped like a “U”—one side vibrates against her clit, the other slides inside, hitting her G-spot.
“That one has a remote,” I tell her, opening a drawer. “I’ll control the speed. You show me you know how to use it.” I cross my arms and move to the couch. “Turn on your toy and get it in place.” She swallows and does exactly as she’s told. The vibrator is hidden inside her panties.
“Stand and spread your legs.” She stands with her legs shoulder width apart.
“Wider.” I snap. She flinches and spreads her legs further. “Put your hands on the table behind you and don’t move them. Don’t speak.” I go to the cabinet and grab a blackout blindfold. I slip it over her head. “You can imagine me any way you want, and it will heighten every other sensation. Okay?”
I don’t know why I keep touching her face, but the muscles around her mouth loosen and she’s not afraid. “Thank you,” she whispers.
Did I even thank her for what she did for me today? I’m sure I must have. No one else has ever talked me down from a full-on panic attack as fast as she did.
Her lips part with the words, and instantly, relief hits me. That’s it. She calms me and makes me feel things I didn't think I could. Parts of me that were buried are slowly returning to life, but not quite whole. Like a zombie emotion.
And like a zombie, I’m craving more.
I stare at those lips that smiled and comforted me during my crisis. The mouth that says the most ridiculous things to make me laugh. The question pops into my mind—what do her lips taste like? Sweet? Soft?
I don’t know, but I lift my mask and press my lips to hers. It’s a taste, something to get it out of my system. That’s all.
But she moans and arches toward me, and I’m lost. She kisses me back, meeting the same pressure and same exploration. I grip the back of her skull and keep her there, completely under my control.
My erection presses into her stomach and she groans again. She wants Fox. I need to end this.
But I don’t want to, and the confession makes me feel guilty.
I break the kiss and turn her around at the table.
“You keep making me break my rules.” I push her chest against the table and she moans as the vibrator presses up against her clit, deeper and harder.
She gasps and I’m back in control. Yes. I raise the intensity on the vibrator and she starts to squirm.
The fabric of her panties catches on my gloves and I yank them to the ground.
Her bare ass exposed, stockings rolled up her thighs, and the corset pressed against her back—she’s a sight to see.
I bring my hand down hard on her right cheek.
“Your ass is going to be your favorite color: pink.” My hand tingles and my dick wants to join the party.
She mews and moans when the second spank comes.
With both cheeks nicely pink, I slip my finger into her wet pussy.
The vibrator makes the space tighter and she cries out.
“Please.” Fuck, I love it when she begs.
“Not yet, Kitten.” She’s close. I start pumping my fingers while moving the vibrator. Her body starts shaking and she tries to pull away. I press her chest down harder, pinning her to the table with minimal pressure.
She pants, her breaths short as her pussy pulses. “I’m so close,” Kitten cries.
“Who makes you come?” I increase the vibrator and pump my fingers harder.
“You do. Only you.” The muscles around my fingers tighten. She moans.
“Now you can.” A few more pumps and she breaks around me. She arches her back, her body tense and shaking, and then she collapses.
I rub her back and kiss her neck while she regroups. I lift my hand and she starts to stand, but I keep her pressed to the table. “You like to move around, don’t you?”
She turns to face me, flushed with a satisfied smile. “I can’t help it.” The blindfold hides the coy look she’s no doubt giving me.
“Well, that’s going to be a problem, Kitten—because you said you were interested in bondage, and I’ve got all night.”