7. Cory
CHAPTER 7
Cory
When we entered The Black Door after a day of sightseeing, I tried to picture this place the way Reese might. I didn’t care what he thought of Times Square—crowded and smelly—but I cared what he thought about this place.
It smelled of money. Of luxury. Of leather and expensive whiskey and submission. Next to Reese’s bed in LA, it was my favorite place to be.
And wasn’t that a mind fuck. I’d known for a while that I was getting in deep with him, but lately it felt like all my carefully hidden vulnerabilities were being exposed. Bit by bit, Reese was unearthing the man I used to be.
I was still me, but once upon a time, I’d been more open. More willing to love and let myself be loved. But that was years ago, before I even found BDSM. Before I stepped into my own as a Dominant. So maybe it wouldn’t have worked out anyway. I wasn’t ready for a man like him back then.
“Somehow I’m not surprised to see so much black leather.” Reese leaned close and whispered low enough so only I heard.
“Well, it’s not called the red door. Or the blue door. Did you want a drink? I’ll get you a real whiskey and take you on a tour.”
“I’d like that.”
Dropping a kiss on Reese’s cheek, I made my way to the bar and ordered a couple of drinks for us. The bartender eyed me with amusement, but didn’t mention my date. I knew, by the end of the night, it would be all over the kink community gossip circle that Cory Callahan brought a man to the club.
I couldn’t give less of a shit than I gave about the rumor mill. Let them all talk about the hot-as-hell man I’d brought with me.
By the time I returned to him with our drinks, I could tell he’d caught on to the attention he was attracting. Taking the drink from my hand, he downed half in one go then looked at me.
“Are they watching me because I’m new or because I’m with you?”
I forced myself to hold his gaze and tried to feign a confidence I didn’t currently feel. “I imagine it’s both. I’ve scened with plenty of people here, but I’ve never brought someone with me before.”
I held out my hand and waited for him to take it. “Come on, I want to show you around.”
“You don’t bring men home. You don’t bring men here. I’m starting to feel a little special, Cory.” Reese’s voice had a rough quality to it that might have been the burn of whiskey… or the sting of strangled emotions.
“You should feel special.” I stopped and looked him in the eyes. “You should.”
Reese tore his gaze away first. “Show me the playrooms.”
I knew my grin was feral, but I didn’t try to hide my pleasure from him. I wanted him to witness how much I liked having him here. How excited I was to share parts of my life with him. Everything we shared so far had been on his turf, so it was nice, though a bit strange, to have him on mine.
I showed him to the playrooms. There were a few with closed doors, indicating private play in progress. One room had a couple post-scene, curled up on the couch in the corner, sharing a rather intimate-looking kiss.
The next room was pay dirt. A crowd was gathered to watch a sounding demonstration. The sub, who wasn’t familiar to me, was strapped down to a chair, his legs parted wide, arms tied behind his back. His cock stood straight up like a goal post. His skin was slick with sweat and lube as his Dom slowly fucked his urethra with a slim, straight sounding rod.
I pulled us into the room and off to the side where we could get a good view. I let Reese watch the action, but it was him I had my sights set on. His eyes were wide and his mouth hung open slightly like a parched man wishing for water. Reese looked thirsty.
Never would I ever push Reese into submitting to me, but it was moments like this and expressions like the one he wore right then—naked hunger, yearning, curiosity, want — it was those looks that made me ache to have him on his knees and at my mercy.
I watched some of the rest of the demonstration, but mostly I studied Reese and the way his chest rose and fell with increasing frequency as the scene dragged on and the submissive became more and more desperate.
Sliding in behind Reese, I wrapped my arms around his waist. My drink still dangled from one hand, but I could multitask. Reese being slightly taller than me was a bit of a disadvantage, but I made it work by dragging the collar of his shirt to the side and pressing a kiss on the freshly exposed skin.
“Would you let me do that to you one day, Reese?”
Reese made a noise that might have been a yes, and it might have been a fuck you. He was so flustered it was impossible to tell.
“Look how pretty he is, Reese. I know you like the way he looks. The way he takes whatever is dished out. He’s pretty, but you’d be magnificent. Stunning.” I kissed the back of his neck and slid my hand under his shirt, splaying my fingers across his belly. “I’ll never ask you to do anything you’re not ready for, Reese. So if you want that, if you want to be on your knees for me, you have to ask for it. I have to know you want it.”
I let my hand trail lower until it settled on the rock hard bulge in his pants.
“You’ve been so good for me today, Reese. Can I thank you for coming all this way to see me?” I posed the question as I tugged at the button of his pants, popping it loose so I could tug the fly down and tuck my hand into his briefs.
“Can I?” I asked again, wondering if somewhere between the slender sounding rod and the big, fat one the sub currently struggled to take, if Reese had lost his power of speech.
“Yes.” Reese turned his head and looked at me, his gaze fiery and intense. “Cory, please.”