Chapter 13

13

Gage

I waited before meeting Leah at the entrance. I wanted to make sure Dmitri saw her.

He did.

It went better than I could’ve orchestrated, had I directed the scene.

His restraint is so close to breaking. I’m tempted to put on a show tonight, something with Leah to push him, make his resolve shatter to dust.

“Thanks for inviting me out,” Leah says, her blue eyes shining up at me.

“I’m glad you called,” I say. “I’ve been waiting. Hoping.”

She looks pleased and embarrassed by that revelation.

I navigate us through the club slowly. I want her to be able to see everything, from the people casually sitting at tables and booths throughout the room, to those putting on their own little shows. All is darkness and glitter and grime. Seeing it through Leah’s eyes renders it new for me.

“Last time you were in Low Vice, we were closed to the regular activities.” I pause at Room Three, where the curtains have been parted slightly to reveal the couple inside.

The two women hold each other tenderly. As Leah and I watch, the red-haired woman unzips the brunette’s dress.

“Would you like to explore anything in particular tonight?” I ask.

“I’m not sure.” She tilts her head, studying the women. “Maybe you could buy me a drink and we’ll see where it goes? It’s our first date and I’m pretty new to…all of this.”

“To kink?”

She nods. I’m not surprised. The other night she was willing and eager, but she seemed unsure of herself, unsure of her own power.

She wields more than she will ever know.

“Let’s get some refreshments and sit down so you can observe. It will help you figure out what interests you and what doesn’t.”

“Sure, okay.”

With her eyes wide to take in everything around us, she follows me to the bar.

Betty passes me a water before turning to Leah. “What would you like, Miss L?”

“There’s no alcohol, right?” She eyes the soda tap behind Betty. “Do you have flavored water?”

“We do.”

A couple of minutes later, I’m navigating Leah toward a cozy little booth with a view of Rooms One and Two. She starts to slide in, but I say, “How do you feel about sitting on my lap, little girl?”

I wait to see if she’ll accept the pet name, accept the invitation.

She takes a sip of her water and licks her lips. “I’d like that…Sir.”

There’s a questioning tone in the honorific. I nod my approval, glad to be past this negotiation.

Climbing into the back of the booth, I gesture for Leah to set down her drink and follow me in. The bench and table allow enough room for her to perch comfortably on my lap, although there isn’t much comfortable in the rigid way she’s sitting.

That’s all right. I have time.

Currently, Room Two is empty. In Room One, two submissive women are servicing their Dom, the women on their knees and taking turns sucking his cock.

Leah pretends to be unaffected, but her position in my lap provides me with an excellent way to monitor her reactions. The slightest hitch in breathing, the way her nipples swell behind the thin fabric of her dress, the subtle squirm as she tries to relieve the ache of need that must be building inside her.

“What do you think of what they’re doing?” I ask.

After a long pause, she says, “I bet their knees hurt. They don’t have any cushions or anything on the floor.”

“True. Do you think that kind of pain could also be a part of the appeal?”

“No. I mean, it wouldn’t be part of the appeal for me. It doesn’t seem like sexy pain.”

“Have you experienced sexy pain?”

“That’s a very personal question,” she hedges.

“You’re in a very personal position.”

Laughing a little, she says, “Touché. And no, not really. Pain has never been a part of sex for me.”

“I remember your checklist from the auction. You were willing to try impact play.”

“Willing to try it, yeah.” She squirms the tiniest amount, seems to realize she’s doing it, and then stops. “I don’t know that I’d like it, but I’d try it. For science.”

“For science,” I repeat, amused.

“Yes. Science.”

In Room One, the Dom directs one of the women to stand and spread her legs. He says something else, his words quiet behind the glass window, and the second woman begins to eat out the first. The Dom kisses the standing woman, but he keeps a hand in the kneeling woman’s hair.

“He always has to be in control, doesn’t he?” Leah says.

“Dominants thrive on having control, directing the scene.”

“Like you directed me with Dmitri.” Her tone is carefully casual.

“Yes.”

I stroke her bare kneecap, a feather-light touch, and I’m rewarded with a hitch in her breathing.

Her beauty is captivating, but so is her wide-eyed acceptance of everything happening. While she may not realize the power she wields as a submissive, she seems very open to experiencing whatever the night throws her way.

It takes a particularly adventurous person to step onto that auction stage, so her sense of adventure doesn’t come as a surprise to me. But she takes in the club patrons and their power dynamics in a special way.

I get to see Low Vice through her eyes, and the experience is delightful. Intriguing.

It makes me crave more.

Perhaps we could create a scene of our own, right here in this booth.

A couple walks into Room Two. Unfortunately for my voyeuristic aims, they close the curtain. That’s all right, because there is plenty to see even outside Room One. The club is filling up with the Friday night crowd, members and their guests. I don’t know everyone personally, but many know me.

“Gage, how’s it going?” A woman with curly brown hair approaches the table. Her platinum collar winks above her neckline, signifying she’s in a long-term relationship with her Dom. Or, in her case, Doms.

“Ella, hello.” Pleased to see her, I reach out to shake her hand, careful to keep Leah balanced on my lap. “This is my friend Leah. Leah, this is Ella Marchand.”

Leah stares. “Ella Marchand…as in, Cinderella?”

“Yes, that’s me.” Ella holds out her hand to shake Leah’s as well. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“You, too. Sorry for staring. It’s just, I love your music.”

“Thanks!” Ella smiles deeply to reveal a dimple in her left cheek.

Her boyfriends Kingston and Sebastian are soon at her side. Kingston’s dark hair is gray at the temples. His business-like appearance contrasts with the style of Ella’s other partner. Sebastian’s shirtsleeves are rolled up, exposing his tattooed forearms. His light brown hair is messy like he recently leaped off stage. We exchange a few words, catching up on the activities in the club, before the three of them continue on their way.

“Was that Bastian Crown, the singer?” Leah asks when they’re out of earshot. “I think I heard somewhere that they’re together.”

“Indeed it was, and indeed they are.”

“Wow. Cool to meet them.” She seems impressed, but not too impressed. Her reaction is reassuring. I couldn’t trust anyone who is swayed too hard by fame.

The trio in Room One switches position again. Leah watches, a rapt expression on her face, as the Dom directs the first sub to get on her back on the long bench in front of the window. The second sub straddles her face while the Dom guides his cock into her pussy.

“What do you think?” I ask as Leah squirms a little in my lap.

“It’s—I don’t know. It’s nice.”

“Nice? Why?”

“Everyone is getting pleasure, in a cycle.”

The Dom and the second sub lean in and kiss while the first sub writhes and arches up beneath them.

“Does it turn you on, little girl?”

“Mmm.” It’s a noncommittal sound.

“You can answer me,” I say, “or I can check for myself.”

She turns her head away from the scene in Room One so she can look at me from the corner of her eye.

My hand is already on her knee. “What do you choose, little girl? I need an answer.”

“Um. Check, I guess.”

“You guess?” I run my lips and whiskers over her bare shoulder.

“Yeah. I mean, okay. You should check.”

It really is going to be such a delight watching her come into her power as a submissive.

I tug her knee to the side, spreading her legs. Her breaths come faster as I trail my hand up her thigh.

“When I reach your delicious cunt, am I going to find wet panties?” I murmur in her ear.

She squirms. “I don’t know, Sir.”

“I think you do know, and you’re too shy to tell me the answer is yes .” Up I go along her thigh. Her skin is heaven for my fingertips, so soft.

With slow, sure movements, I reach the juncture of her thighs and touch the fabric of her underwear.

Damp. Just as I’d expected. Just as I’d hoped.

“I like touching you so much, I’m going to keep doing it,” I say against her neck. “Your safe word is red if you want me to stop. Understand?”

“Yes, Sir.” She grips the edge of the table in front of her.

I turn her so she sits less sideways and more facing forward, then I drape her legs on either side of mine.

People amble back and forth in front of us. Some of them watch the trio in Room One. Others are too busy with their own dynamics.

A woman crawls on hands and knees behind her mistress, tugged along by an invisible leash of devotion. In the corner, a man is chaining his androgynous sub to the St. Andrew’s cross.

Two shirtless men kiss and grind by the wall, their hands roving over each other. The picture they make is hot, but not to my taste. The power plays fascinate me most. When I engage in scenes, however, I prefer women.

I whisper in Leah’s ear. “Do you think you can come while surrounded by so many people?” I slide the fabric of her panties to the side.

She lets out a sweet, needful sound. “I don’t know, Sir.”

“We’re going to find out. But I bet you can.”

My hand is hidden beneath her dress, and the table acts as a barrier. It would be difficult for the other patrons to see what I’m doing to her.

But easy for them to guess.

I stroke her skin, gathering the wetness from her entrance to slide it over her clit. Soft brushes at first before I alternate thumbing her clit and plunging my fingers inside.

Her head drops back against my shoulder and her hands fall helplessly to her sides.

“That’s right, let me take care of you,” I say.

Stroke after stroke, I bring her higher. She’s soaked for me. I don’t know if the sexy atmosphere is helping, or the fact that she’s getting off in public, or—dare I hope—it has everything to do with me .

But it’s wicked and delicious and one of the most innocent things happening in this club right now.

She’s going to come soon. I can feel it in the way her legs clench against mine. I can hear it in the way her gasps have turned to quiet moans.

She turns her head. Taking pity on her in her embarrassment, I lift my free arm to cradle her, helping her to hide her face. Even while I shield her, I continue stroking my fingers in and out of her hot cunt.

“So good,” I whisper. “You’re so wet for me, little girl. Are you going to come now?”

“Yes—yes.”

“Perfect. Go ahead. Come on my fingers.”

Her release is glorious to behold. I might have a new kink—holding Leah in my lap while she comes.

This is the second time it’s happened. I could do this several times a night and never get enough.

Eventually, her cunt’s rhythmic squeezing ceases. What I would give to feel that sensation on my cock. My imagination is a vivid place, however, and with the details from tonight, I’ll be able to relive this moment as often as I like.

I pull my fingers away and lick one. Salty. Sweet. I trace her lips with the other finger, offering her a taste of herself. With a quiet moan, she sucks my finger into her mouth.

I let her lick and suck for as long as I can stand, then I pull my hand back and kiss the side of her head. The gesture of affection surprises me. I usually don’t kiss my play partners.

“How are you feeling?” I ask.

Her head is still turned toward me. I twist her around so she’s sideways in my lap. It’s easier to see her this way.

“I’m good,” she says. “Breathless. That was…I really liked that.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“Is there anything you need?” She shifts from side to side, no doubt feeling the hard ridge of my cock against her leg.

“No, but thank you.”

“I was thinking.” She peers at me carefully, her voice quiet. “I’d like to join the next auction.”

A situation rife with potential. “You don’t need my permission.”

“Right,” she says. “But I need a sponsor because I’m not a member.”

“Why not ask Dmitri again?”

“That’s complicated.”

“Oh.” I try to make the tone understanding and sympathetic, but inside, I’m smiling like a maniac.

Complications. Angst. His unraveling resolve. I wonder if sending him home with her panties last night has anything to do with those complications.

“I could sponsor you this time,” I say.

“Would you?”

“Sure.” I spy Dmitri from the corner of my eye. “But it’s going to cost you.”

“What will it cost?”

“A kiss.”

“Easy.” She grins and leans forward.

“What if I want you to kiss him, and not me?” I angle my head toward Dmitri.

He sees us and scowls.

A flash of emotion crosses Leah’s face, but I can’t discern what it means.

Leah shakes her head. “I can’t. He isn’t willing, anyway.”

“All right.” I expected as much, but it’s nice to get another glimpse into their odd dynamic. “Kiss me now. And sweetheart, I don’t mind if you want to pretend it’s him.”

She pulls back slightly, looking shocked. “I wouldn’t do that to you or him.”

Why does she have to be so wholesome? It’s both a delight and a crime.

The more time I spend with her, the more glimpses I get into the way her mind works. I try to see her from Dmitri’s point of view, also. I can’t help it. An unspoken drama, full of subtext, plays out between them whenever they’re in the same room.

If she doesn’t hurry up, Dmitri won’t see the kiss. “Pay up, little girl.”

I tilt her head toward mine and take what I want. Her sweet lips taste like sugared raspberries. I lose all thoughts of goals and manipulations. This is no game. This is me kissing a woman, our breaths commingling, our hearts syncing.

One of her hands is on my shoulder, the other on the side of my face. I delve my tongue into her mouth, stroking along hers, tasting her more fully.

I could get lost in this.

A loud crash sounds from somewhere behind us. We separate and I look toward the source of the commotion.

Dmitri crouches on the floor over a broken glass. Betty comes around the side of the bar with a broom.

Dmitri’s face is flushed. He glances in Leah’s and my direction quickly before he starts gathering glass with his bare hands, apologizing to Betty and ignoring her demands that he sweep it instead of picking it up.

Another auction with Leah next month, and a very jealous “friend.”

I cannot wait.