“Sir,” I gasp, my hips jerking without my permission and my breath coming out in desperate pants.
Spettro chuckles again and the vibrations stop just as suddenly as they started. I slump against the chair, my muscles quaking as I catch my breath.
“This is going to be fun.” He tosses the box onto the chair, right on top of my gun. “Get dressed.”
I take that as permission to straighten up, giving my cock a brief squeeze before reaching for my present.
“You didn’t have to bring me anything.”
He mentioned money being tight when we planned this date early in the week. I don’t want him to think he needs to spend what he doesn’t have to try and impress me. I’m still trying to work out how to tell him that I’ll help him out without hurting his pride.
“You’re supposed to say, ‘thank you.’” He gives me a quick slap on the ass, the leather of his glove giving it a little extra sting that drags another moan from me.
“Jesus, keep that up and I’m not going to want to go anywhere tonight.” I look over my shoulder at him and grin. “Andthank you.”
I slide the lid off the box. Inside are a pair of leather pants, a matching harness, and a purple and gold Mardi Gras mask.
“This way you won’t have to worry about anyone recognizing you,” he explains as I pick up the mask and slide it on.
“What about you?”
He snorts a laugh. “I’m not a Moretti. Besides, no one ever sees me.” He grabs my jaw gently and turns my head. His dark eyes bore into mine and my heart skips a beat. “Except you.”
He presses a hard kiss to my lips, and I taste something sweet as his tongue snakes into my mouth. He’s always eating candy, but what flavor is that? Something about it tickles at the back of my mind, but it’s not important. What’s important is the way his teeth sink roughly into my bottom lip and the hungry, needy rhythm of his mouth on mine. He grinds his hard cock against my ass cheek, the rough denim of his jeans scraping along my skin. It’s the little groan he lets out just before he releases me that nearly does me in though, like it’s killing him to stop kissing me.
“Get dressed,” he says again, taking a step back and raking his fingers through his hair.
“Nothing underneath?” I ask, pulling the pants out of the box.
“No, I want you to feel the leather against your skin all night.”
Fuck, this man is going to kill me. Luckily, I already know how easy it is to clean cum off of leather. I shimmy into the tight pants and zip them up, then I slip the harness on and tighten all the straps so it fits snugly around my chest. I feel like the perfect little slut when I turn back around to face Spettro, and the look in his eyes makes the urge to kneel resurface.
“Come on, slut. Let’s go have some fun.”
GHOST
I’ve never been to Eros before, but I’m certainly familiar with its reputation as Wildcliff’s premier high-end kink club. Membership, or even a one-time entry, is way above my fucking paygrade, and I try not to let that chafe when Alessio pulls out his wallet at the door and hands over several crisp hundred dollar bills, half of them to take care of cover charge for both of us and the other half to get them to waive their usual policy of taking IDs and doing background checks.
I slide two fingers around the back strap of his harness and tap the low setting button on the remote just once. Alessio gasps at the quick, light burst of vibration and stumbles. I use my grip on his harness to keep him upright and grin, nudging him to keep walking. There’s a short, dark hallway that leads from the entrance of the club to the main room, and inside it’s exactly what I would expect a kink club with a couple-hundred-dollar cover charge to look like. There are several stages set up with flogging tables, suspension equipment, and more than one St. Andrew’s Cross. There’s a bar at one end of the room and leather booths with velvet drapes all set up to get a good view of any stage.
“There are private rooms too.” Alessio nods towards a hallway.
I arch an eyebrow at him. “I take it you’ve been here before?”
A hot, possessive feeling wells up in my gut, and I tug my fingers out of his harness to wrap my arm around him instead, resting my hand loosely against his throat. I tap the button again and his moan vibrates under my palm.
“A couple times,” he admits. “Are you jealous?”
“Yes,” I answer honestly.
“Don’t be. I don’t even remember the men I played with here. I couldn’t pick them out of a lineup.” He turns his head to look at me. “I wasn’t obsessed with any of them like I am with you.”
A growl of satisfaction rumbles in my throat, and I lean in to nip at his ear. “If anyone else ever lays a hand on you, I think I’ll kill them.”
“Same, Sir,” he says simply but firmly. “It looks like a demonstration is about to start, should we get a seat and watch?”
I manage to tear my eyes off of him long enough to glance at the stage where a woman dressed in a red leather catsuit is leading a petite naked woman over to the spanking bench with a paddle in her hand. I nod, and we find an open booth to make ourselves comfortable. As soon as Alessio sits down, he lets out a quiet moan and rocks his hips subtly, like he’s hoping I won’t notice.