18. Bear
18
BEAR
“ A re you sure I’m dressed okay?” Julia asked as we walked inside the Beacon.
“You look beautiful, mia cara.” I put a hand on her lower back to lead her inside, smiling at her shiver when I touched her. “Who cares what these people think, anyway?”
“Yes, my husband,” she said as she glanced around at the surroundings.
I’d been to the dungeon a few times, but never to play. It had once been a strip club, but when Aris signed control over to Ru, she’d turned it into a BDSM playground. Up front, there was a bar and two stages where people like my sister and Hollywood liked to put on shows for the patrons. They could paddle and whip and punish, but because it was the front-facing room, there was a no-penetration policy.
In the back were private rooms for people to do whatever they wanted. The club didn’t ask, as long as the patrons cleaned up after themselves and didn’t make a mess.
Upstairs was where the real fun happened. There were various viewing rooms to watch whatever the exhibitionists in attendance wanted to show off. It took an extra special VIP membership to be admitted to the second floor, and since the SRMC had a large stake in renovating the club, I could go anywhere I wanted… within reason . I already checked with V to see where they planned to be so I didn’t accidentally walk in on my baby sister fucking my best friend. She was on general manager duty tonight and Hollywood was playing security, which left the entirety of the club’s amenities at my disposal.
I eyed the gorgeous woman tied to a St. Andrew’s Cross, her back pinstriped with pink marks while her dominant flogged her. On the other stage, a woman had been suspended from a thick length of bamboo while her rigger poured wax on her legs and stomach.
“Do you want a drink?” I asked, nodding toward the bar.
“Water, please.” Julia glanced around and gripped her clutch purse, her shoulders wiggling from her nervousness. I’d have to rectify that. She had nothing to be worried about. She was the most gorgeous person in this place, and I’d think that even if she weren’t mine. I got us both water and, when I walked back to her, she was staring at the woman hanging from ropes, rapture and curiosity in her gaze.
“Are you interested in Shibari?” I asked while she took a sip.
“No,” she said. “It’s just…she looks like she’s enjoying herself.”
“Hmm.” I held my hand out to her, and she placed her palm in mine before we made our rounds. I put on the good show of mingling with the patrons, clapping hands with people I knew, and introducing myself to others. I showed Julia off like the prize she was, territorial pride churning in my gut when everyone stared at her. She was gorgeous, and mine all mine.
Thirty minutes later, after I’d made sure everyone knew we were there, I led her over to the stairs. Hollywood stood to the side of the maroon velvet rope, wearing a black suit and a huge grin.
“There you are,” he said, clapping my hand before pulling me into a hug. “I wondered if I’d see you tonight, especially after your APB text to V earlier.”
“Forgive me for not wanting to see what the two of you get up to in your spare time.”
“You’re forgiven, prez,” he said with a laugh and opened his arms to Julia, waiting for her consent before leaning in for a hug.
“We’re heading upstairs,” I said, nodding toward the entry. “I booked room six for the rest of the night.” I’d been intentional about telling him that. While the club, its members, and our princesses had always been sex-positive, I had grown into a possessive motherfucker when it came to my wife. I didn’t want anyone to see her the way I did. Her moans, her breathy sighs, her beautiful cunt, it was for me and me alone.
“The whole night?” Hollywood blew out a playful whistle and pulled the rope aside. “Pace yourselves. Last call’s at three a.m.”
I laughed, and Julia smiled as I stood aside to let her go ahead. “Have a nice night, Hollywood.”
“Yeah, you too!” he called as we ascended the red-carpeted stairs. The walls had been painted black, adding to the edgy ambiance of the entire place, especially when we got to the second floor and the white, black, and red decor continued. Sconces lined the hallway, giving it a Gothic vibe, and I grabbed Julia’s hand to lead her straight ahead. We passed floor-to-ceiling windows with all types of various activities inside. Group sex, needle-play, a wet-works room, all visible from the hallway. But this wasn’t what I’d brought her here for.
No, she’d marked voyeurism on her list, among other things, and I planned to make good on that Y column tonight. When we got to room six, I opened the door and nodded inside the dark space, trying to keep my smile genuine and calm despite the anticipation coursing through my veins. Her heels echoed off the walls as she walked, her back straight, her eyes wide with trepidation.
“What is this?” she said, glancing back at me as I entered behind her and closed the door. The room wasn’t large, maybe fourteen by twelve, with black walls and various play implements hung around us. Maybe I’d use some of them, but mostly I wanted a safe space to act out a few fantasies without anyone disturbing us. A huge wooden chair sat in the middle of the room, more of a throne than a dining room seat. It faced what I knew to be one-way glass. We could see the other side, but the people in there wouldn’t be able to see us.
“A show,” I said as I walked toward her.
She bit her bottom lip and glanced at the impact implements on hooks next to the door. “Are we the performers?”
I snorted and shook my head. “No, no one gets to see what I plan to do to you. No one but me.”
She seemed to like the sound of that, her cheeks flushing as she preened for me with her arms behind her back. “Where do you want me, sir?”
I tried to ignore the effect that honorific had on me and how powerful it made me feel. She was a Caputi princess, royalty among peasants in her own right. To have her place her trust in me, especially in this den of iniquity, I had transcended the Gods. I could bend her, break her, have her gagging and crying by the end of the night, and then she’d thank me for it. Had two people ever been more perfect for each other?
I grabbed her collar with my index finger and pulled, leading her over to the throne.
“On your knees, pretty wife.” I nodded to the ground, and she sank with hardly any complaint. “Fuck, I love how well you listen.”
She stared up at me and jutted her chin, thoughts of defiance perhaps echoing behind her gaze. If she wanted to play the brat, I’d tame her, but I sensed that wasn’t where the night was going.
“The things I want to do to you, they’re downright filthy,” I murmured, kneeling in front of her. I traced a finger over the mounds of her breasts, watching as she shivered from the touch. Her skin pebbled, her nipples hardening just under this pathetic excuse for a dress, and that, too, sent another shock of arousal down to my balls. “And you’ll let me, won’t you?”
The muscles of her throat worked while she swallowed, but she didn’t reply, just maintained eye contact as I dragged my hand lower.
“Answer me,” I said.
“Yes, sir,” she whispered, her voice nearly cracking.
I traced the curves of her body down to her thighs, ducking my fingers under the hemline to ghost them over her soft skin. She trembled harder.
“Are you scared?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. I teased one leg and skipped completely over her cunt to trace down the other.
“No,” she said.
“No?” That amused me. “Such fearlessness. If I had brought you here months ago, you would have stabbed me in the throat and run away.”
She smirked. “If you had brought me here months ago, you would have been lucky if all I did was stab you in the throat.”
I tried not to laugh at her threat, wanting to stay in the right mindset to dominate her. My hand shot around her throat before I could stop it, and I leaned closer, bringing my face inches from hers.
“Careful, mogliettina ,” I said, using the Italian term for little wife. “I can think of a thousand better uses for that tongue.”
She grinned as if to suggest I do something about it.
“Open up,” I said, and when she did, I shoved my index and middle finger inside. “Suck.”
Watching her wrap her pretty lips around my fingers paled in comparison to the euphoria that zapped down my spine and into my cock. She lapped at them, and I pushed them to the back of her throat, preparing her for what I had planned. With the other hand still on her windpipe, I could feel my ministrations through her muscles, and I imagined what it would be like to fuck her like this later. But I was nothing if not a gentleman. When I was satisfied that they were wet enough, I yanked them out and shoved them between her legs, pleased I had made her wear nothing under her skirt. She was already soaked, of course, but I lived to drench this pussy. She moaned when I rubbed at her clit, spearing through her skin with expert precision. I knew how to apply just the right amount of pressure, and when I massaged her while tightening my grip under her chin, she let out the most adorable whine and rocked against my hand.
“That’s it,” I said. “Get yourself off on my fingers.”
“Please, sir.” She fell forward into my hold, pressing her forehead against my jaw. “Please.”
I knew what she wanted. If there was one thing she liked coming on more than my cock or my tongue, it was my fingers. She wanted me to fuck her hard, to rub at that sweet spot on the inside and break her to pieces. When I pushed inside her, she groaned, and my cock gave another half-hearted jerk, desperate to replace my fingers.
Patience. I’ll get mine soon enough.
I fucked her, rubbing into her pussy while she mewled and shivered in my embrace. She gripped my button-down with her delicate fingers, undoubtedly creasing the expensive fabric, but that only spurned me on.
“You’re such a dirty girl,” I said, spewing the most depraved shit I could think of. “Letting me do this to you. Do you like fucking your king’s fingers? Do you like being on your knees while I take you?”
“Yes, yes,” she said. “Please. Harder.”
“Oh, I don’t respond to little sluts that don’t respect their lord.”
“Please, sir,” she said, emphasizing the honorific.
“Do you need to come?”
“Yes, sir. Please, my king. My lord. Please let me come.”
C’mon, I couldn’t leave her like that. Her thighs quaked around my hand and her cheeks flushed, an enticing pink snaking over her chest and disappearing under her dress. I found that magic spot in her body and played with it while rubbing her clit with my palm until her internal muscles clamped around me.
“Go on,” I said. “Come for me, darling. Mia cara.” She clenched her fingers harder, digging her nails into my skin as she soaked my hand, but I kept going. I wouldn’t stop until she squirmed and begged for release.
Goddamn but she was beautiful like this, even more than normal. It went to my head and made me feel powerful, like I actually was a king and I could command entire legions in her honor.
When she came back to herself, I grinned and kissed her face until she reached down for my wrist to stop my fondling.
“Too sensitive?” I whispered to check in on her.
She nodded.
Humming my approval at her honesty, I stood and ran a hand over her cheek to brush hair away from her face.
“I love this shade of lipstick on you,” I said, rubbing a thumb over her bottom lip. “You know where it would look even better?”
“Where, sir?” She looked up at me with that beguiling mix of feistiness and sexiness that had driven me wild all these months.
“My cock.” I smirked and sat on the throne, unbuttoning one of my shirt cuffs so I could roll the sleeve up. She watched with rapt attention, gulping and swiping her tongue over her mouth. I did the same to the other sleeve, and once my arms were free to move easier, I nodded down to my lap. “Go on then. I’m going to watch this show and you’re going to keep my dick warm.” She started to scoot forward on her knees, but I held up a finger and tsked through my teeth. “Crawl.”
Julia took a deep breath through her nose and exhaled with a sigh, leaning onto her hands so she could come closer. Fuck, the sight of her literally crawling on my command made me so hard, I had to adjust my hips in my seat. She was beautiful, so regal, in her submission. It electrified my blood, made me burn from the inside out.
When she got to the edge of the throne, she sat back on her haunches and looked up at me while she undid the button on my pants with her dainty hands. I ran the finger that had just been inside her beautiful cunt over my mouth, smelling and tasting her, and watched her pull down the zipper to take out my dick with a sly little grin.
“Kiss it,” I said, leaning into the lord role-play. She’d marked this as acceptable, so unless she said her safeword, I kept going. “Worship it. Worship me.”
She held my dick in one hand and kissed the length of it, pressing her tender lips from root to tip and back down again, leaving red lip marks all over me. When she nuzzled her nose against me to deepen her attention, I couldn’t help the groan that barreled out of my chest. The hot, desperate sensation shot down my legs and up the back of my torso, nearly curling my fingertips.
“That’s such a good girl,” I said, holding the base to angle it inside her mouth. “Now, do what you were made for.”
She wrapped her mouth around me and sucked.
I groaned and leaned my head on the back of the throne while she held me there, running her tongue on the underside, over the length of me. When she got to a part that felt amazing, I grabbed her head and held her still, sinking my fingers into her hair. She liked that the most—when I was rough with her, when I manhandled her like the overbearing piece of shit I was.
“There ya go,” I murmured, relishing the sight of her lipstick smearing on her chin and leaving red streaks on my dick. “My good little whore wife. You like being nothing more than a cum hole for me, don’t you?”
She moaned, the vibrations shooting right through me and into my balls. Fuck, I loved that, and I watched as she worked me. Perhaps getting too excited herself, she put her fingers between her legs and rubbed at her clit, but I couldn’t have that. I didn’t want her to come again until I told her to, until I gave her permission.
“Uh, uh, uh,” I said. “Don’t you dare touch my cunt. Only I get to play with that tonight. Hands where I can see them, amore.”
She froze and glanced up at me, looking too damned cute with that confused expression and my dick in her mouth. But I didn’t push the issue. Yeah, I’d called her my love. I’d done it on purpose.
On that night when those fucking traitors broke into my house to defile her, it had taken me five minutes between when she’d called Leo and when I made it to my house. It felt like a damned century because I’d thought I’d lost her. I’d thought Gabriella had gotten to her, that Stallion would kill her, that she’d been abducted and would be gone forever.
The very notion left a hole in my heart. It terrified me more than it should, more than I ever thought it would.
Tonight would be about more than dominance and submission. I wanted to show her how much her affection meant to me. This may have started as pretend, but it had become so much more to me. I suddenly couldn’t imagine what my life would be like without her, and waking up with her in my bed these last few weeks had settled in my bones permanently. I wanted her, and I would always want her, and nothing would ever change that. I’d come to accept it in a way I never thought possible.
Of course, I wasn’t sure if she felt the same. So I planned to make a show, test the waters, and see how she reacted. We were already married, so what was the worst that could happen?