Hooked (Decadence Nights Book 1) (6 page)

She was questioning the pencil skirt for the tenth time in as many minutes as she knelt on the thick rug in the center of his office. The flowing A-line dress with the cutaway jacket she’d tried on first would have made much more sense. However, Joseph had mentioned liking her snug skirts. With pleasing him in mind, she’d gone with the impractical. So here she was with head bowed, hands behind her back, on her knees with her too tight skirt slid high on her hips in order to spread her thighs wide in her submissive pose. Hopefully, the effort would earn her forgiveness points.

She waited. A clock in his office loudly ticked off each passing second. She’d been ten minutes early, but she didn’t dare check the time now. As soon as she did, he’d come through the door.

Keys jangling outside the door announced his arrival and instantly kicked her heart into high gear. Without looking up, her eyes cast downward and her body humming with anticipation, she focused on his movements. Hearing the snick of the lock and the soft thud of his shoes on the carpet was enough to pinpoint his location as he crossed to his desk and with a clink set his keys and probably his phone on the desk. More soft foot falls and his brown Ferragamo loafers came into view, stopping about a foot in front of her. She recognized them instantly, having picked them up with two of his suits from Nordstrom’s.

“Your decision pleases me greatly, Olivia.”

“I want to be yours, Sir.”

“Look at me. I prefer to see those beautiful blue eyes.”

Her lashes lifted and her head tilted back until she gazed up at his handsome face. Unlike the stern visage from their last meeting, his face was relaxed, his jaw no longer tightly clenched. Though they burned with intensity, it wasn’t anger she saw glittering behind his glasses and his lips curved into a gentle smile instead of a scowl.

“Are you ready to surrender?”

“Yes. I’ve wanted this for three years, Sir, but was afraid to admit it until now.”

“Brave, pet. I prefer Master when we’re in session.”

“Yes, Master.” She smiled. The significance behind the title giving her a warm feeling inside.

“Good girl. Now, prove you want to be mine. Open your blouse.” His order sent waves of electric pleasure coursing through her body. She would have expected it from the fiery Dom of yesterday or the naked passionate dominant of the night before that, but this man looked and sounded like the Joseph of old. Her boss, respected attorney, upstanding citizen of Austin, who volunteered his time assisting indigent clients a few days each month and regularly gave his free time to help at the local Salvation Army. Each month she shopped and wrapped gifts for kids living at the shelter who were celebrating a birthday and if not for Joseph, their special day might pass without anything at all. It was a small act of kindness, but she thought it was beautiful. He also helped at the annual “Doing the Most Good” fundraiser. She knew this because he had enlisted her help these past few years. That this generous man was the same one who just now asked her to open her blouse in his conservative and very orderly office was shocking.

She tipped her head down as her hands went to the side closure of her petal pink wrap blouse.

“No, keep your eyes on me.”

Another tilt of her head and she locked eyes with him. By touch, she found the bow on the side and undid the short zipper underneath. She spread the sides wide revealing her brand new blush colored pushup bra.

“Very pretty, but I want your breasts bare. Lower the cups.”

With both hands, she tugged down the satin and lace until her breasts sprang free. The tightness of the material below her full curves plumped them up into high, full mounds as they overflowed the top of her bra. Her nipples constricted, forming hard points, not from the coolness of the room, rather from the heat of his avid gaze.

“Beautiful. Your nipples are rosy pink and very hard. Do they ache?”

“Yes, Master, they ache for your touch.”

“Pinch them.”

Between the tips of her fingers and thumbs, she latched on and squeezed.

“Harder. As I did with you yesterday.”

Obediently, she compressed the peaks until the bite of pain made her gasp.

“Good girl. Now, raise your skirt high and spread those lovely thighs nice and wide.” The hem was already at her hips, so she tugged it over her behind. Her thighs parted another inch.

A moment later, he made it clear it wasn’t enough. “Wider,” he ordered.

This time, she rucked it up all the way to her waist, exposing her matching blush bikini panties as she spread as wide as she could go without toppling over.

“Very nice. Reach back and grasp your ankles.”

Arched and vulnerable to him, she held her breath as Joseph crouched in front of her.

“While I was away, did you touch yourself? Were you a disobedient sub who dipped her fingers in her achy honey pot as soon as her Master was out of sight? Or, did you wait like a good girl as I asked?”

“I was a good girl, Master.”

His hand reached out, lightly running a finger down her cheek. Moving to her mouth, he stroked her lower lip.

“Suck it. Make my finger nice and wet.”

Imagining where that finger would go next, it was all she could do to keep from jumping him and begging him to take her now. But that would never do and would most likely earn her more sexually frustrated waiting. Taking his long digit in her mouth, she sucked, her tongue swirling round and round as she made him wet.

He pulled out with a little pop, which surprised her. No more so than when he lowered his hand to her nipple and ringed it slowly, transferring the wetness.

“This is how I want you when I ask you to kneel. I’m strict with my rules, Olivia. Just like here at work. If you are disobedient, I’ll punish you. However, when you obey, I’ll reward you with more pleasure than you’ve ever dreamed of. Can you handle that? Is that what you want?”

“God, yes!”

His fingers tweaked her nipple firmly at her error. “What was that?”

“God, yes, Master Joseph, that’s what I want.”

He chuckled. “Close enough.” His hand found her bare pussy. “Ah, how lovely, you’re soaking wet. It’s funny, our brains sometimes get us in trouble, for whatever reason trying to control our reactions, telling our lips to lie or attempting to hide our emotions behind a false persona or mask, but some involuntary responses are beyond its control. Take sexual excitement, for example: flushed cheeks, accelerated breathing, hard nipples, a pussy drenched with honey. Involuntary, thank goodness. Our bodies can’t lie.” His fingers slid over the wet seam of her lips, pressing more firmly against her clit, circling it slowly all while watching her intently. “Are you hungry, Livvy?”

“Starving, Master.”

He chuckled again. “You’re beautiful in your submission, little one. You’re also very obedient and this pleases me. I believe I mentioned a reward for good behavior. Would you like that?”

“Yes, please.”

“Come to the couch.”

She started to get up and follow him as he walked away, but over his shoulder, he corrected her assumption. “No, pet, I want you to crawl.”

She sucked in a shocked breath. Never had anyone asked that of her. But, she wanted to submit, and that meant obeying. She also wanted pleasure beyond her dreams as he’d promised. After the last 24-hours when her body had been rife with need, wanting him and desperately craving release, she wanted that more than anything. Resigning herself to a new layer of submission, she crawled on hands and knees to where he was seated in the middle of his large tufted tweed—yes, tweed—couch.

As she moved toward him, he shrugged out of his jacket and stripped off his tie. Despite her undignified position, Livvy felt empowered, undulating slowly forward beneath his unwavering gaze. As she inched closer, she suppressed a grin as he tossed his immaculate clothing heedlessly toward the armrest, paying no attention as they fell haphazardly to the floor. Settling back, he spread his legs, patting his thighs.

She crawled right between them and up into his lap, rubbing against the hard bulge in his trousers as she did so. His hands moved her along by gripping handfuls of her voluptuous ass and guiding her until she straddled him. Joseph’s head fell back against the couch as he looked up at her.

“Kiss me, Livvy.”

As she lowered her mouth to his, her fingers sank into the hair at the back of his head where it was longer and her fingers could thread through the dark strands. When their lips touched, their passions ignited like a match to tinder. Lips searched, tongues entwined, hands and fingers explored while hips thrust and ground together. It didn’t go on long.

In a raspy voice, Joseph ordered, “Raise up. I need to have you now.” Sheathed in latex the next instant, he drove upward as he pulled her down, embedding himself deeply and fully. With a cheek in each hand, he demanded, “Ride me hard.”

Her head fell back as she began to move over him. Testing the position at first, she eased up and slid back down. His fingers curling into her ass cheeks urged her faster. With his hands as a guide, she picked up the pace, quickly falling into a rhythm. Like a dual-action piston in a well-oiled machine, they rode each other hard, her body plunging to meet his upward thrusts as they slammed together in a rough, greedy fuck. There was no better way to describe it.

A day’s worth of sexual frustration made Livvy’s control razor thin, so when his hot mouth latched onto a nipple and drew on it fiercely, it was all she could take. Her release, coming after what seemed like an eternity of waiting, emanated from way down in her toes, surging upward until her breathless ecstatic cries filled the room.

As if a cue he’d been listening for, Joseph’s arms tightened and he flipped her to her back. Rising over her, he pushed her knees to her chest and came into her harder, driving profoundly deep until he too found his release. Unlike her airy moans, he came with rough, animalistic groans of satisfaction.

In the aftermath, they cuddled close, Joseph having rolled them to their sides to keep from crushing her. Neither spoke until their bodies eased back to normal from their heightened state.

“Joseph, um… Sir, I mean, Master?”

He laughed, kissing the tip of her nose. “Joseph is fine now, Livvy.”

“Were you testing me by making me crawl to you?”

“I may have been pushing a bit. Mostly, I wanted to see what your breasts and ass looked like while you shimmied across the floor with your sexy posterior swaying side-to-side. As anticipated, it was supremely enjoyable.”

“How could you see my posterior when you were in front of me?”

He glanced over her shoulder and grinned. “There are at least fifty mirrors on the wall behind you, Liv.”

She twisted her head. Her eyes fell on the one-of-a-kind bronze wall sculpture, which was a collection of small mirrors in various shapes and sizes that the artist had rendered in the form of a fish. It had hung there for the entire three years she’d worked for him.

“Great, just what I’ve always wanted, my big butt reflected in all its glory on a priceless piece of wall art.”

A broad hand landed on her upraised cheek with a resounding smack. Then he grabbed her still tender behind in his big hands and squeezed, pulling her pelvis into his. “This ass is a work of art, and I won’t have you denigrating it. That,” he jerked his chin toward the fish on the wall, “to be honest, despite the artist’s lofty name and ridiculous price tag, has always annoyed me.” His eyes rose to study the piece. As he massaged and separated the globes, a grin split his face. Realizing he was watching the reflection of his hands working her ass, a rush of heat bathed her cheeks, both upper and lower. “Now that I look at it in depth, taking in all the subtle shapes, curves, colors and nuances, I have to admit,” he nudged forward, the hard length of him unmistakable, “it’s growing on me.”

His eyes dipped to her face. What he found there, which she knew could only be a five alarm blaze of fiery cheeked embarrassment, made him grin. “Still a bit shy even after all I’ve done to you?” He swatted her behind, playfully light this time. “Get up. I’m taking you home to work on that bashfulness.”

While she straightened her hopelessly wrinkled blouse and linen skirt, she felt his eyes on her. Looking up, she caught him in a tender look. Then he winked, something she never expected. As her mouth gaped open—something that seemed to be happening more and more around him lately—he grinned.

“Enjoy being clothed while you can, pet, because once I have you naked under my roof, I’m keeping you that way.”

True to his word, Joseph kept her naked, without so much as a stitch on for nearly the entire weekend. Helping her overcome her shyness around him was his rationale—not that he needed one—but she suspected it was more because he was enjoying the view as well as having free access whenever she was within arm’s reach. Neither of which she minded because his touches led to caresses, which progressed to kisses and them getting busy on the nearest flat surface.

Joseph was often fully clothed in contrast to her nudity, which swung the pendulum of power to his side, where it stayed as expected. Even at home, he didn’t slouch on his appearance. No ratty t-shirts and sports shorts for this man. Although he eschewed the suit for casual days, he still wore neatly pressed trousers and a button up shirt. She teased him about being the only man in Texas that didn’t own a pair of jeans, cowboy boots and a Stetson. He’d surprised her on Sunday by wearing exactly that when he took her out to brunch. She’d grinned at her sexy cowboy and they’d gotten a late start when Joseph had promptly unzipped his jeans and folded her over the back of the couch for a quickie. Yee haa!

Granting her a reprieve from the all-nude weekend, her attire for brunch was still limited to a sundress and sandals, nothing else, Joseph having implemented a no panties rule with dresses. He said being bare would keep her wet and hungry, as he liked. Besides, he’d told her with a wink, a Club Decadence Dom had standards and a reputation to keep.

Being naked at home with him or under her dress in public made her aware of her body, and her proximity to his. She soon caught on to his plan of using texture and touches to push her body to the very limits of her control. Like when he brushed by her in the kitchen, allowing the coarseness of his trousers to abrade her bare behind. Or, when he pulled her close for a hug or a kiss ensuring that her hard nipples—which had been in a state of perpetual stimulation since he’d left her naked and wanting in her apartment—rubbed the placket of his shirt or caught on a button. Even the few times she’d been allowed to dress, he’d used tactile stimulation to keep her aroused. While out for breakfast, his hand had dipped to her behind and rubbed the material of her dress over her pantyless cheeks. Even when they snuggled on the couch while reading the paper or watching the news, he’d curled her into his side such that his shirtsleeve rubbed across her nipples every time he moved.

It was driving her mad. Fortunately, he took her often, relieving the edgy build up. The only times that she was ill at ease all weekend, were when he dragged her down to sit perched on his thigh, a position he seemed to favor, but left her uncomfortably aware of the press of her drenched pussy against his pants. When she was allowed to get up, she did so while praying she didn’t leave an embarrassing wet spot.

She also learned he was extremely visual, and she often found him watching her. He’d admitted to enjoying the sway of her breasts as she moved, admiring the tempting curves of her hips, and what he called her “exquisitely formed ass.” Joseph wanted her close, touching her near constantly when they were in the same room, ordering her closer with a soft, “come here,” if she wandered too far away. He delighted in posing her provocatively if he was occupied with a task, draping her over the counter in the kitchen while he cooked—something else she learned he enjoyed doing. During lunch preparations on Saturday, for example, he picked her up and plopped her bare bottom on the cold granite counter. He positioned her to his liking, leaning her back on her hands, breasts uplifted, and legs spread with her heels to her ass leaving her pussy on blatant display. He’d sliced fresh fruit, playfully placing slices of strawberry on her nipples and kiwi low on her belly. As their omelet was cooking, he’d nibbled each piece off, licking her belly and lingering over her aching tips long after any residue of flavor could have lingered.

Later that day, while he was taking a phone call in his office, he had her on his lap at his desk. Facing him, with her feet flat on the arm rests, legs splayed wide apart, he pushed her head back until it was resting on his desktop. Then the evil man had put the phone on speaker and proceeded to play with her—fingers and mouth teasing her hard nipples and playing with her clit—while she bit her tongue and tried desperately to hold back her moans. He’d told her to be prepared to surrender if she came to him on her knees that Friday and he hadn’t been joking.

As much great sex as they had, they were also incredibly intimate on a non-sexual level, snuggling and holding each other close as they talked. At one point she asked Joseph something she’d always wondered. They were lying on the couch in the aftermath of Joseph taking her against the living room wall. Brought on by the simple act of Livvy walking across the room, he’d lifted her until their hips aligned, then with her legs around his waist and her back to the wall, he’d taken her. It was carnal, spontaneous and utterly amazing.

Afterwards, as they relaxed in one another’s arms, she blurted out, “Why didn’t you ever marry?”

“I was married once, a long time ago.”

“Tell me,” she urged, propping up on an elbow.

“It was right out of law school. We were both focused on our careers more than each other and definitely didn’t jive in the bedroom. She was strictly vanilla.”

“Why on earth did you marry her?”

“Ella and I were friends, classmates, and lovers, but we were never in love. It was a huge mistake. At twenty-five, I didn’t know who I was or what I wanted other than my career. Needless to say, that came through loud and clear in a relationship. After the divorce, a friend of mine introduced me to the club scene. Dominance and submission felt instantly right to me and filled a void that previous relationships had not. After that, vanilla was a flavor I no longer enjoyed.”

“That was twenty years ago. Did you give up on marriage after that?”

“Not necessarily. I was open to it, if I found the right woman. You know as well as I how difficult that can be in the lifestyle.”

She did. She’d crashed and burned too many times.

“Do you regret not having children?”

“Not with Ella. It was a clean break, children would have made it extremely messy.”

She frowned. Not liking the sound of that at all.

Well attuned to her moods even after such a short time, Joseph nudged her elbow so she flopped back on the couch, then rose up on a forearm, cupping her cheek in his free hand. “If you’re trying to find out if I’m anti-marriage and anti-kids, Livvy, I’m not. Although this weekend has proven we have something very promising growing here, three days might be a bit early to start writing vows and hiring a decorator for the nursery.”

She balked. “Oh no, I didn’t mean—”

“I know you didn’t, pet. Rest assured that with me, marriage and kids are still on the table, so you aren’t spinning your wheels. Got it?”

“Yes, Sir.” She flushed at his ability to read her so easily. “Were you always this perceptive?”

“Hardly,” he laughed, shifting so that he was on top. “I had a beautiful submissive under my nose for three years and didn’t know it. That’s pretty clueless, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, for a while there I thought you were gay.”

His head, which had lowered to nibble along her bare shoulder, reared back in surprise. “What? Why on earth did you think that?”

“Joseph, if my skirts were any tighter I would have split a seam. When you didn’t notice or ever make a pass, I thought I wasn’t your type, or gender.”

“Damn.”

She giggled. “Didn’t you wonder why I was always getting things out of bottom drawers? I put everything down low on purpose. If you had looked, you would have found all the top ones completely empty.”

He blinked down at her. She could practically see all the times she’d stuck her bottom virtually in his face flashing before his eyes. “You imp,” he accused as his fingers danced along her ribs, grinning as she squirmed and laughed beneath his merciless tickling. When she begged him to stop, he did, kissing her hard instead.

After a moment, he raised his head, pure green sparkled down on her as a hand slipped to her backside and he palmed a cheek. “I noticed everything about this glorious ass, every shimmy, shake, and definitely every tight little skirt. Believe me.” He dipped his head to brush her lips again lightly. “I missed the submissive signs, clearly. In my fantasies you were the submissive of my dreams, but in reality, you were my efficient, straight-laced, extremely hot secretary who I didn’t want to offend with unwanted advances even when she made me rock hard every day.”

“They wouldn’t have been unwanted.”

“I know that now, Livvy, but for all that time I was blind.” His mouth kicked up on one side in a grin. “Take a memo, Miss Wright. First thing Monday morning make an appointment with my optometrist. Obviously, I need a stronger prescription.”