Chapter 4

4

Connor

By the time the lights started to dim, signaling the start of the show, Mistress Julie was feeding him the second to last bite of cake. Being fed while he was immobile—not that anything was holding him in place other than her command—was an entirely new experience for him. It was also something he never would have thought to do as a Dom.

Which made him wonder, again, if he'd been failing the subs he'd scened with.

On the other hand, he'd never had a meal with any of the subs he'd scened with. Maybe if he had, he would have thought of feeding them, but… probably not. He was self-aware enough to know that. Still, at least he wouldn't have disappointed any of them since there had been a lack of opportunity.

"You're thinking too hard," Mistress Julie said, rapping the back of his knuckles with the spoon. It didn't hurt that much, but the sting was enough to jolt him back to the present and her very enjoyable company.

"Sorry." He gave her a sheepish smile. "Sometimes, it's hard to turn my brain off."

"Which isn't necessarily a bad thing, but right now, I'd rather you were focused on feeling instead of thinking." She smiled back at him, and he caught it right before the lights completely went dark.

Music started to throb through the room and the lights on the stage lit up, bright and focused on that one area. With the sheers drawn, it would now be next-to-impossible to see into their booth, even from the stage. If anyone even wanted to make the attempt.

Fingers slid into his hair, and Connor almost groaned as she tugged gently on his scalp.

"Under the table, Connor. I want you to start at my ankles and work your way up to dessert."

Oh, fuck.

His dick hadn't gone down while she was feeding him, but somehow, he was even harder than before.

And he had to get under the table?

He wasn't sure he would fit, but if that's where she wanted him, he was going to try his best to make it work. Especially because there was a prize at the end of the effort. He hadn't imagined she would be willing to go nearly this far, but now that he knew it was possible, he was eager to take it there.

Taking a deep breath, he began to sink down, twisting slightly to fit his bulk under the table and turning to face her. One hand was still in his hair, and he heard the muffled clink of silverware against glass, letting him know that she was eating the last bite of cake.

While he was under the table about to eat her.

Why that felt so deliciously exciting, he didn't know, but it sent an unexpected thrill through him.

Shifting back, he felt her let go of his hair with reluctance, but he needed the room to maneuver if he was going to start at her ankles. It was nearly pitch black under the table, only the faintest hint of light coming from the stage. He was missing the entire show, and he didn't care at all.

Sliding his hands down her legs, he lifted one and pressed a kiss to her ankle, sliding his tongue over her smooth skin. He began moving his mouth with slow, hot kisses up to her knee, then he switched to the other side. It wasn't easy. He was bent over uncomfortably, he felt completely squished, he couldn't see what he was doing, and the throbbing music made it hard to tell if she was reacting or not, yet…

Yet he was already happier than he'd ever been when he was in charge of a scene.

Despite all that, his dick was throbbing in time with the music, and he didn't care one whit about the discomfort. He just wanted to make Mistress Julie happy with him. This felt… good. Right. He'd been given a mission, and all he had to do was accomplish it.

All the thoughts that had been swirling around his mind disappeared as he focused on moving his mouth up her legs, his hands caressing at the same time. As he reached the edge of her skirt, her fingers slid back into his hair, and she pulled up the hem of her skirt with the other hand. Her body slid forward, legs parting, though he was still cramped because of his broad shoulders and did not fit easily between her legs.

His back and head bumped the underside of the table, but he didn't care.

Breathing in the sweet scent of her arousal, he was focused on one thing and one thing only—his promised dessert. Not that he rushed things. This was about her pleasure.

His mouth moved over her inner thighs, getting closer and closer until he was able to finally taste her. She tasted as good as she smelled. Connor groaned, pushing his head forward, his shoulders moving her legs wider. He bumped the underside of the table again and ignored the thud as he finally reached the promised land. Over the music, he could hear her moan as his tongue slipped between her folds, the sweet flavor of woman coating his taste buds.

Fuck, he liked hearing her moan because of him.

Eagerly, he pressed inward, not caring about the humid air that was hard to breathe. Who needed air anyway? He just needed this . He felt more alive, more engaged, more free than in any scene he'd ever done.

Burying his mouth in her pussy, he feasted.

Julie

Though she was trying to keep quiet, to preserve some semblance of secrecy about what she and Connor were doing—just in case the occupants on the booths on either side of them were paying any attention—it wasn't easy. Partly because she wanted him to know he was doing a good job and partly because he really was doing a very good job.

It was very distracting.

As good a show as Patrick was putting on, wrapping Lexie in a rope dress and preparing to lift her into the air, Julie was having trouble watching it. She was far more interested in the massive man kneeling at her feet, eating her out like a starving man, who kept banging into the table and not pausing in his efforts. It was a good thing the tables were bolted to the floor, or he probably would have shifted the whole thing.

Julie shuddered, moaning again as his tongue laved over a particularly sensitive spot. One hand gripped his hair, the other gripped the table. She was too short to truly be able to lean back against the back of the booth—the seats were made particularly wide for a reason—but she was leaning back as much as she could to give Connor as much access to her pussy as possible. Her thighs trembled slightly at the stretch necessary to accommodate his shoulders.

If she could have put them over his shoulders, she would have, but being in the booth only allowed for certain positions. Especially with as big as he was.

"Oh, fuck…" she moaned as he shifted, managing to get his mouth even more firmly on her pussy, sucking her clit between his lips. Her insides clenched in response, quivering as her orgasm slid closer to its peak.

On the stage, Patrick was lifting Lexie into the air, an expression of utter bliss on her face as she flew. The music was swelling as he lifted a crop and began to work her over while she hung in the center of the stage like a work of art. Her cries at the sting and the moans of pleasure blended in with the music, as did all the sounds coming from the booths around them.

No one would be able to tell what sound came from where.

Which meant she could let go of her own worries about revealing too much. Gripping Connor's hair tighter, she ground her pussy against his mouth, crying out when he seemed to realize how close she was, and sucked her clit back between his lips. His tongue flicked against the tiny bud, the suction pulling at her in waves. She cried out again, her thighs tightening around his shoulders as hot bliss exploded inside her.

Muscles quivering, she gasped and moaned as she rode his mouth, clutching his head tightly against her as the waves of pleasure crashed over her. Her body buzzed from the heady sensations, his mouth and tongue working until she was nearly limp.

Only then did she tug on his hair, moving him away from her, giving her the space to catch her breath. He went with reluctance she could feel, even though she couldn't see his face.

Still using his hair to guide him, she pulled him back out from under the table.

The lighting wasn't great, but it was good enough to see the light shine around his lips from her juices, the way his hair was properly mussed. The sheepish expression was back on his face as he reached up to wipe his mouth clean.

Damn, he looked good, sheepish and pleased with himself, while her body was still humming from the orgasm. He deserved a reward.

"Sit next to me and watch the show," she said, releasing her grip on his hair now that he was out. The music and sounds from Lexie, as well as everyone else watching, were loud enough that she was no longer worried at all about being heard. "Hands back on the table."

Which meant she could touch him as much as she wanted while he was back to sitting still.

He got into position, but he wasn't watching the show; he was watching her. Julie decided not to chastise him. Eventually, he wasn't going to be able to see what she was doing, anyway.

Getting up on her knees, she knelt beside him on the booth, so she was facing him. One hand went over his arm so she could run her fingernails across his chest, teasing his nipples, while the other went to free his cock from his pants.

He'd been in her class, and she'd seen him at the club, so she knew he was well-endowed, but it was one thing to know and another to wrap her fingers around the thick, hard shaft. Connor made a noise, almost like a whimper, as she did so, and Julie smiled at the feeling of power that went through her.

There was nothing quite like making a grown man whimper to turn her on even more.

Connor

Thinking?

Who needed thoughts?

All the thoughts had completely flown out of his head. He'd been completely focused on Mistress Julie's pleasure, and now he wasn't able to think about a thing other than what she was doing to him. How she was touching him. How fucking good it felt when her hand wrapped around his cock, even as her nails dragged a stinging trail across his chest.

He could still taste her on his tongue, breathing in her essence with every panting breath he took as she slid her hand up his cock and back down again. His fingers tried to curl against the table before he could force them flat again, letting out a guttural groan. He'd never been in a position not to be able to touch the woman he was with.

He hated it.

But he loved it even more.

The hand on his chest moved away, to his regret, but she was still slowly stroking his cock, so it wasn't like he could complain.

On the stage, Patrick had covered Lexie with little red marks from the end of the crop that stood out starkly against her pale skin. They'd been centered on her breasts, her ass, her thighs. She was panting, mouth hanging open, and he spun her in place to turn her so he could step between her thighs and place his mouth on her pussy.

Connor groaned, licking his lips as he was reminded of how good Mistress Julie's pussy had tasted.

Her fingers caught his hair, this time at the back of his neck, tugging his head back as he groaned. Hot breath wafted over the sensitive shell of his ear, her fingers tightening almost painfully around his cock.

"Did you like being on your knees for me, Connor?" she whispered in his ear. Her tongue flicked against his earlobe.

If he'd been standing, he would have ended up on his knees again. He could feel them buckle even though he was sitting down.

"Yes." He could barely say the word through his groan as her teeth dragged across his earlobe, right after her tongue. The slight sting and pull went straight to his cock, which she was stroking harder and faster as the music swelled. Lexie's cries on the stage were becoming louder.

"You did because you're a good boy, aren't you?"

He couldn't respond because as soon as she asked the question, she sucked his earlobe into her mouth, pulling on it, her hand moving up and down on his cock. He lost control of his voice. All of his focus was on his tightening balls because he wasn't sure if he was allowed to come or not.

As if she knew, she released his earlobe just long enough to whisper:

"Come for me, good boy."

Fuck.

The effect was instantaneous. Even before she sucked his earlobe back into her mouth, his cum was spurting out, arching high and splashing across the table onto his hands. Her hand kept moving, milking his cock as droplets of cum slid down, lubricating his shaft and intensifying his pleasure.

It felt like his toes were curling in his shoes, like every particle of his being had centered in his groin and was pouring out of him.

The most intense orgasm of his life, and it had just happened in her hand.

Connor panted for breath as Mistress Julie nipped his ear again before pulling away and picking up a napkin to clean off her hand. Breathing hard, Connor stared straight ahead, almost afraid to look at her. He wasn't sure if he had just embarrassed himself or not.

He felt like he should be embarrassed, but on the other hand, she'd called him a good boy.

I'm a good boy.

So, maybe he didn't need to be embarrassed at all.

The music crashed in a final tumult, then the lights on the stage went out, but only for a moment before coming back up to a brightness where some helpers could come out to assist Patrick in getting Lexie down. The two of them disappeared off stage with the helpers, Lexie still mostly bound in rope.

"Would you like me to clean you, or would you prefer to clean yourself?" Mistress Julie asked, bringing his focus back to their booth.

"Myself," he said, then immediately regretted it. Sort of. He knew he would feel awkward having her clean him off, but part of him wished she would. It was too late, though. She was already handing a new napkin over, and there was no way he was going to change his answer and ask her to do it now.

She stroked his hair while he did it, which made it better. He tucked himself back into his pants, blushing furiously as he did so. By the time they were done, the stage was cleared, and dim lights had come on throughout the booths. Many of them had emptied, their occupants having moved to the hotel rooms in the back hall.

There were a few others still present in their booths, either finishing their own pleasure or just talking. Those who had their sheers drawn were obscured from view, which reassured him that he and Mistress Julie still were, too.

"So," she said, putting her hand on his thigh again. This time, it felt reassuring rather than sexual. "We should talk about what comes next."