Chapter 4
Mitzi~
While most people would call this portion of the evening word-vomiting, I didn’t care. I was still angry enough not to care that my boss had caught me here, and since I was off the clock, it wasn’t like he could hold any of this against me anyway.
Plus, I had nothing to be ashamed of. We no longer lived in a time when women had been forced to pretend like they weren’t sexual beings, tiptoeing around the fragile egos of men.
We were no longer shunned by the village if we had more than one sexual partner, nor were we disowned because we hadn’t waited until marriage.
Nowadays, women were no longer taking the fall for men’s inadequacies and insecurities.
We were no longer taking the blame for their cheating, their criticisms, or their erectile disfunction.
Instead, we were demanding equal attention in the bedroom, and if you were in a relationship, then you navigated that together.
However, if you weren’t, then you came to places like The Fantasy Factory and picked a man to make all your sexual wishes come true.
I also refused to be embarrassed that my boyfriend had cheated on me.
Since I’d done nothing wrong, there was no reason not to be honest. Yeah, it was crossing a line because Sullivan Gray was my boss, but he had approached me, not the other way around.
He was also the one asking questions, not me, so if anyone was crossing the line, it was him, and that was the story that I was sticking to.
Eyeing me carefully, he asked, “What else did he judge you on?”
“Nothing,” I answered honestly. “In truth, once I found out that he was...was particular about certain things, I kept my sexual desires in check, reminding myself that I loved the man.”
“Do you still?”
I took another sip of my drink before answering with the absolute truth of the matter.
“Funny thing about love, it’s more fragile than people realize.
While it can be strong enough to get you through almost anything, it can also disappear just like that.
” I snapped my fingers for emphasis. “And catching your boyfriend cheating on you is one of the ways that can make it disappear so easily.”
“I can see how that might happen,” he remarked evenly, though not like he was rubbing it in.
“So, what are you doing here?” I asked again.
“I was hosting Elvis Boroko,” he answered as he shrugged. “He found himself some better entertainment, and I was just about to leave when I saw you walk in.”
After a few seconds, I addressed the elephant in the room. “Are you still mad at me about this morning?”
“Are you done taking your anger out on your co-workers?” he countered.
“I wasn’t,” I argued. “It was only you.”
“Tell me more, and then we’ll forget that this morning ever happened,” he offered. “Of course, I still want to see the data on your research, but we can schedule that for another time.”
That had me scowling again. “Tell you more about what?”
“About what you’ve been denying yourself,” he answered, and talk about swimming with the sharks.
This was such a bad idea.
“Why do you want to know?” I asked as my heart began to pitter-patter a bit.
“Why do you think?” he shot back, not afraid to put it all out there, and it was hard not to admire his relentless drive when he saw something that he wanted, no matter how immoral.
"Well, I can tell you that I’m not confident enough to go into the fourth room, and I can tell you that I like to participate, so I’m not sure about the second room, and I can say that jealousy would be a problem for me in the third room,” I told him truthfully. “So, that leaves the first room.”
His green eyes flared, and I’d never had a man look at me like that. “You want to be degraded.”
I nodded, refusing to be ashamed or embarrassed for what turned me on. “Yes, I do.”
“Why?” he asked, his voice darker and deeper than before.
“Because, even though I don’t mean to, I spend most of my day emasculating men with my intelligence,” I answered, letting the rawness shine through. “My brain works in a way that intimidates most people, and it gets tiresome. Being strong and in charge gets tiresome, Mr. Gray.”
“I think it’s safe to say that you can call me Sullivan at this point,” he said, and with those words, it was clear that we were going to cross a line that should never be crossed when you had two powerful dynamics like this.
Still...
“Now, while it might be near impossible for me to ever find a man that’s smarter than I am, I’ll settle for one that’s stronger than me,” I went on, trying not to cringe at how weak I might sound.
“In short, I want a man that is confident enough to put me in my place. I also want a man that can show me that there’s more to me than my intelligence.
I’ve lived my entire life in the academic spotlight, and I’d just like to experience a night where a man is more impressed with my body than he is with my mind. ”
“You want to be treated like a sex object,” he surmised.
“Not for nothing, but I’m already treated like one by just being female,” I pointed out.
“I want to be treated like a slut, Sullivan. I want to be fucked like a whore. I want to be taken like the only thing that I have going for me is my body. I want to feel desired. I want to feel feminine. I want someone that can make me go out of my mind with need, leaving no room in my brain for anything else.”
After a few seconds of digesting what I’d just told him, he said, “You know, the right man can make you feel desired and feminine without spitting on your face or slapping you.”
“True,” I conceded. “However, I’m not here looking for the right man. I’m here looking to forget that I wasted years on a cheating dirtbag.”
“So, this is a one-time thing?”
“Depends,” I replied haughtily. “If it ends up being everything that I hope for, it might just become a regular thing. If it turns out to miss the mark, then I’ll move on and try something else.”
“Where do you draw the line?” he asked as he stepped closer to me, invading my space, my drink all but forgotten.
“What...what do you mean?”
“Degradation is about more than just calling a woman a few names, Mitzi,” he said, and the sound of my name on his lips sent a delicious shiver down my spine. “It can get abusive if the rules aren’t laid out before the roleplaying begins.”
“Well, that’s what the observation rooms are for, right?” I jerked my chin towards the second floor. “They’re to see what it’s all about.”
“They give you only a glimpse into what makes you curious,” he corrected. “They’re not scenes to be replicated, Mitzi. They’re just a small taste of what to expect, not the entire meal.”
“So, you’re asking me if it’s okay to do more than just call me names?”
“Do you want to be manhandled?” he clarified. “Do you want your hair pulled? Your face slapped?” He stepped closer to me, and that was about as close as he could get at this point. “Do you want to be spit on? Choked? Bitten? Do you want a man to leave his mark on you? Do you want him to own you?”
“Meaning?” I asked, my voice a raspy whisper of heat.
Sullivan leaned down until his breath was hot on my ear. “Meaning that he’ll get to abuse every orifice that you have, and you will take it and love every second of it.”
I could feel myself flooding my panties, and I couldn’t remember a time when I’d felt so turned on.
I’d never had a man abuse me during sex, and I’d never had anal sex before, something that I’d always been curious about.
I’d also never had a man mark me, claiming me for days afterwards.
I’d never been used so recklessly, and I’d never wanted anything more than I wanted that right now.
“Yes,” I answered shakingly.
“Yes, to which part, baby?” he asked, and the endearment hit me right between my legs.
“Yes, to all of it,” I told him. “I want to experience it all.”
“Then you’re going to experience it with me,” he said, and against everything that was professionally right in the world, I wasn’t about to tell him no.
Still, I had to ask the question. “And what happens Monday morning?”
“I guess that all depends on if this ends up being a one-time thing or not,” he answered candidly.
“Whether it’s one time or all weekend long, work is still work, Sullivan,” I replied seriously, trying to set up boundaries, despite there no longer being any. “I don’t want to lose my job over this.”
Looking down at me, his green gaze serious, he said, “I can handle it if you can.”
Making my decision, I said, “I want to watch a scene first.”
Without another word, Sullivan turned to signal the bartender, and as luck would have it, a show was about to begin in ten minutes. I didn’t object when he reserved a participation room, either. I’d made my decision, and if I was going to crash and burn because of it, then so be it.
After all, playing it safe all these years hadn’t gotten me anywhere.