Chapter 9 #2
Her eyes are closed, and her hand is cupping her pussy, her middle finger pushed hard against her clit.
“Turn around and bend over. Fingers touching toes.” Sienna's eyes fly open, and in them, I see only lust and excitement.
She turns slowly and bends even slower, the seductiveness of the action not conscious on her part. It’s natural. Not taught. Not forced. No effort needed.
Her gorgeous ass is at eye level with me, and in this light, I can see the fading mark from last night clearly, the outline of my fingers on her pristine skin stroking the possessive feeling in me.
Only I could touch her in this way.
My hand makes contact with her warm skin, and she jerks forward before relaxing again.
“Your beautiful cunt is wet, Sienna. For me.” I pull the soaked, thin lace to the side, revealing a slick, glistening pussy.
“Do you trust me in this moment?”
“Yes.” Sultry. Needy. No hesitation.
Good girl.
My hand finds the little red object in my pocket, and I smirk when I think about the rest of tonight. The sweet fucking torture.
“What—” Sienna's words die a sweet death as I roll the red egg-shaped device between her folds, ample lubrication as my thumb slips it inside her while I rub her clit with my forefinger.
She makes my favorite sound, the mewl wrapping around me like a fucking warm blanket. I squeeze her hard little nub and then pull away, getting up and pulling the material of her g-string back in place.
Sienna bolts upright just as Yvonne walks in, her face flushed and confused.
“So. Let's get you dressed then. We don’t have much time,” Yvonne says, laughing as she looks between Sienna and me before shaking her head and walking off toward the row of dresses at the back of the changing room.
“Damon, what about the thing?” I look at her blankly, her eyes blinking rapidly as she looks down towards her groin and then back at me. Fuck, she is adorable.
“It stays where I put it. I have the remote with me.” I pat my jacket pocket, her eyes wide in shock.
“Remote? What remote? Why does it have a remote?”
“You will see later. Now get dressed before we are late.” And with that, I walk away, smirking as she hisses out my name repeatedly before I disappear around the corner.
Thankfully, I could conduct most of my business on my phone, or else the hour waiting would be torture. I can’t wait to see Sienna all dressed up, knowing what lies beneath.
The chatter of female voices behind me as I wrap up a conversation with Jordan, head of my IT department, draws my attention from the street outside to a view scorched into my eyeballs for eternity.
Sienna looks like an angel. A fucking goddess sent from the heavens to destroy my black soul .
Her red hair is braided on the sides and curled at the bottom, cascading down her back.
The pleated red asymmetrical dress she wears just covers her stockings and the clips of the suspenders where sheer black meets cherry red.
The one-shoulder look and plunging neckline make my cock twitch with need, and I’m almost tempted to haul out the remote. Let her feel as worked up as I am.
Her smoky eyes meet mine, and her wine-red colored lips, to match her dress, pull into a smile before she looks back at Yvonne, thanking her for everything.
Yvonne hugs her, winking at me as she squeezes Sienna close, her hand ghosting over Sienna's ass. Sienna's brow dips slightly in confusion as she walks away from Yvonne towards me.
“You look fucking edible.” Sienna blushes at my words and then smiles, her eyes running the length of my body.
“You, as usual, look like I would imagine the spawn of Adonis and Aphrodite to look like. It almost seems unfair.” She side-eyes me as we walk towards the entrance, the limo waiting for us out front.
“Those are gods, Sienna. You're looking in the wrong direction if you are looking for my maker.”
She laughs, thinking my words are a joke.
“So, where exactly are we going?” Sienna asks me once I am settled in the back of the limo next to her.
I pull the elegant invitation out of my pocket and hand it to her.
She holds the card closer, her face scrunching up in confusion.
“Toys provided? Why would a party have toys?” She isn’t looking at me as she asks this question. Instead, she examines the invitation closer as if it will give her the clarity she seeks.
It would not. No words would prepare her for what we were about to walk into, and the invitation was specifically nondescript—elegant and plain, underplaying the event wholly.
I have been to Lady Chatman's parties numerous times, and they are not vanilla, as Yvonne would say.
“You will see. Here.” Sienna takes the pink box I hand her, pulling on the white satin bow.
She gasps when she lifts the satin covering, revealing an intricately designed black mask—the same as the one I will be wearing, just more feminine. It is clearly a pair—a very deliberate choice.
“Wow, Damon, this is exquisite.” She holds the mask gently in her hands as if afraid she might break it.
“Turn around. I’ll tie it.” She obeys.
I grab the strings on either side, securing the mask while leaning close so my breath brushes her exposed shoulder.
She shivers and then moans when my lips meet her perfect flesh.
Two.
The unexpected sensation as I press the button on the remote makes her jump.
“What—”
Four.
My finger travels up her back, over her shoulder, slowly grazing the skin of her clavicle, lower, over the curve of her breast, which heaves with uneven, jagged breathing until I reach the stiff peak. Her nipple pebbled before I even touched it.
I bite down hard on her shoulder as I roll her nipple between my forefinger and thumb.
The moan that leaves her is long and slow, from her core, drop-kicking the sound of my blade meeting concrete from its number three position.
Seems her different moans will be knocking it down a couple of notches.
At this rate, it might as well see its fucking way out the door.
“Damon.” Her head turns towards me, her lips inches from mine. Red, plump, the pout begging to be captured by my own .
Hesitation. Not something I know. Not something I do.
But with this, something holds me back. As if I hadn’t dreamed about the taste of her. The feel of her lips against mine. The satin texture of her tongue.
It wasn’t that I thought the dream could not stand up to the reality. I knew that to be untrue with every dream-to-reality interaction I have had with Sienna so far. Perhaps it was that it would far surpass every dream I had about her. Every fucking expectation met and exceeded.
For someone who kept their expectations low to avoid disappointment, I knew having her would do something to me, something I could never return from. There was a word for this that even now I couldn’t voice.
“No coming yet, my rainbow.” I pull away and turn the remote off, Sienna's expression surprised and frustrated.
“We are here.” Sienna quickly tries to recover, but her cheeks remain flushed, and her desire is evident even with the mask on.
“Sir,” the chauffeur greets me as I exit the vehicle. I then hold out my hand for Sienna to take.
“So, Lady Chatman. Is she an ex-girlfriend or something?” Sienna asks as we walk the short distance to the large double doors of The Mansion.
“No. Lady Chatman has subs, not boyfriends or girlfriends, and I’m no sub.” Sienna looks confused by my words, which is not surprising.
“Submissives. Lady Chatman is a Dominatrix.” More confusion on Sienna's gorgeous face as I grab the cock shaped door knocker at the center of the large mansion door.
“What’s a dominatrix? Oh, is that a penis?” She sounds amused as she points at the metal dick I have just let go of.
Before I can answer, the door opens, the muffled sound transforming into full-on noise as Lady Chatman stands in the doorway.
“Mrs. Samson. Is that you?” Sienna's words come as a surprise not only to me but to the woman before us, who steps closer to Sienna.
“My word. Sienna dear, is that you? Oh my gosh. What a treat!” Lady Chatman claps her hands before pulling Sienna into a hug.
“Brad is going to be so happy when he sees you!” the older woman gushes, pulling Sienna into the house excitedly.
“Brad!” Lady Chatman shouts, her hand cupping her mouth so the sound travels further.
Bradley rounds a corner of the room, his eyes lighting up first with surprise and then with delight.
“Si! No way. Is that my little Si in the flesh?” Before I know what is happening, Bradley has Sienna in his arms, her feet dangling off the floor, and red suspender clips visible as he hugs her tightly.
My anger unfurls like a leopard waking up and seeing another animal trying to take its meal.
Fucking Bradley. I hope you enjoyed that hug. It may very well be your last.