Leather Bound (18 page)

He took hold of the top of one stocking and slowly began to roll it down my leg.

‘You have the hottest legs,’ he said. ‘Everyone out there watching, they’ve been thinking that since they walked in. They’ve been just waiting for me to cut these stockings off you, so they can catch a glimpse of your soft, pale skin.’

I shook my head, trying to deny what he was saying, even as I knew it was true. Even as I grew wet thinking about it.

‘They think about being me,’ he said, his gaze hard on mine as he rolled the second stocking down by feel. I thought he’d take my heels off, pull the stockings from my skin completely, but he left them on, pooled at my feet. Somehow that made me feel more exposed, more vulnerable. The pale length of my legs so naked between the two edges of black.

I tried to clamp my legs shut. Davian’s hand was already between my thighs, keeping them apart.

‘No,’ he said.

He didn’t have to say any more. He’d already said it. If I was going to do this, I had to do it fully. On my own. My choice.

I relaxed my thighs, forcing a soft breath between my lips. He ran a couple of fingers down my calf, stroked my ankle through the stocking fabric.

‘I was going to bind you with these,’ he said. ‘Tie you to the chair. But I think that would be too easy. I think you’ll just have to keep yourself still for me.’

He put his hands on either side of my skirt and slowly slid the fabric up. Past the black cut edge of my stockings, past the black line of lace that marked my thighs. Exposing me to the world. Or at least the world watching through L&L’s one-way glass.

‘Now this,’ he said, ‘is the important part. This is the part where they’re going to pay such very close attention to your beautiful pussy.’

He pressed the very ends of the scissors to the seam of my pantyhose. I suppressed the hot shudder that rolled through me, but just barely. Even so, he must have felt it because he waited until it passed. When I was still again, he cut the crotch of the pantyhose in a long slit. I hadn’t worn panties, and my pussy flared at the influx of cool air. I was hot where the air was cool, wet where the air was dry.

My gasp felt like it echoed inside the large room. But it was nothing compared to his intake of breath.

‘Beautiful,’ he said. His voice was gravel and lust. His eyes never left the cleft between my legs. ‘Such a beautiful pussy, Janine.’

Suddenly, the roles switched. He was as enamoured of me as I was of him. I swelled with my own power for a moment. Watching his face, I opened my legs wider, exposed a little more of my pussy. I knew it was wet, pulsing, the lips plumping up the way they did when I was aroused.

His gaze rose to meet mine, a warm smoulder of want that forced me to grit my teeth to stay quiet. It was clear that he was working hard to hold himself in check. He had the look of a man who was trying very very hard to behave himself. It was a look that nearly threw me over the edge.

Slowly, I reached down and brought two fingers along the cleft of my pussy. I was wetter than I’d expected, my desire coating my skin so that my movements were slippery, my body spreading easily at my touch.

Davian watched me, that first slow stroke of my fingers up to the point of my clit, a half-circle around the tender bud.

Before I could make another move, his hand snaked out and grabbed my wrist, stilling me. He leaned down, the heat of him looming over me. His breath was tight and harsh, and when he exhaled it was with small groans of want.

I thought he was going to kiss me. I ached for it. That and more. If he let go of my wrist, moved his hand, his fingers would touch me. I wanted to feel them against me, to know what it felt like when he ran his thumb over my clit or slipped a finger into me.

He didn’t do any of those things.

‘I believe you’re getting the hang of this,’ he said. ‘Do not get out of that chair until you come for everyone who’s watching you. Do not close your eyes. Do not close your legs. I want to see you fuck yourself to orgasm so that all these men and women watching come from the sight of you.’

And then he let go of my wrist and walked out of the room.

* * *

Despite the fact that he’d given me specific instructions, I didn’t know what I was supposed to do. I was sitting in a chair, exposed, by myself. I’d just touched myself in front of a bunch of strangers. Davian had walked out on me, telling me to keep going. By myself. That wasn’t part of the deal. Was it?

I could just leave. Get up and walk out. Concede defeat.

But I’d asked for a second chance. Not only had Davian given me one, he’d offered to help me make it work.

If this was a test, I wasn’t going to fail this one, damn it.

I closed my eyes. And then opened them. That was part of the test too, wasn’t it? What had he said? Don’t close your eyes. Don’t close your legs.

I couldn’t hide. Not even behind my own eyelids.

I wouldn’t think of the people behind the windows.

Spreading my legs slightly wider, I swirled my finger around the point of my clit. It was still pulsing and greedy from Davian’s work, taking as much pressure as I would give it and asking for more. I imagined that it was Davian touching me, finally, finally. That he was on his knees in front of me, spreading me with his fingers, dipping the point of his tongue between my folds.

In my mind, he slid a finger inside me, then another, his mouth suckling at my clit while his fingers curled into my g-spot. I wanted him to thrust into me like that, a perfect mimicking of what he’d be like with his cock inside me. Images of his cock – which I hadn’t seen yet, but oh, God, I wanted to, so very much – made my mouth water.

And among those faces in my mind, pleasured, orgasmic, I saw Davian’s. Could he see me too? Was he even now standing somewhere against a one-way window, breathing hard, watching intently? Was he stroking himself?

Fuck the other people watching. I’d give them a show if that’s what they wanted. I’d give Davian a show, because that’s what
I
wanted.

I needed both hands. I spread my legs to give myself more access. One set of fingers worked my clit, the other curled tight into my g-spot, thumbing the tender circle with a rhythm that pulled moans from low in my throat. I wanted Davian everywhere. His cock buried deep in my throat. His tongue in my pussy. His fingers nudging the tight circle of my ass.

My orgasm toyed around the edges of my pleasure, promising, teasing. I shifted in the chair, straining for leverage, trying to find the movements that would get me off.

I groaned aloud as my fingers found that perfect rhythm, as I imagined all the things I wanted Davian to do to me. As I imagined all the people watching, stroking their cocks, sucking each other off, kissing and biting and grinding their bodies together. I pictured Davian watching me with that caramel gaze, stroking his cock, bringing himself to orgasm at the sight of me masturbating.

My orgasm hit me fast and fierce, hard enough that the chair scraped along the floor. I cried out, something that would have sounded like Davian’s name if I hadn’t bitten my lip at the last moment, turning it into a wordless cry of pleasure. A second orgasm, small but fierce, shuddered up my body, until I slumped on the chair, breathing hard.

My body felt limp and wracked, my stockings were pooled around my calves, who knew how many people had just watched me fuck myself to orgasm. But all I could think about was Davian, and whether he’d seen what I had done.

* * *

Somewhere in the back of my brain, I heard the sound of a door closing. A sound from the outside world.

Blinking, I came back to reality fast and hard.

Davian aside, I’d just masturbated myself to orgasm in front of all these people. Oh, my God. My face flushed hot. I touched my cheek, realised my hands were still wet with my own arousal and then rubbed my fingers over the fabric of my skirt to dry them.

How did one elegantly leave a room where one had just brought herself to orgasm and was now sitting with her pussy wide open and her stockings sliced off her and the man who’d turned her on nowhere to be found?

I had no idea but I certainly did not leave the room with any sort of elegance or decorum. I just ran.

I bumped smack into Davian, who was standing outside the door, his arms crossed, looking both bemused and something that I couldn’t quite read. I had no idea if he’d just seen my … performance … and I wasn’t sure I cared. Now that my orgasm was over, I just felt freaked out. And a little dumb. And scared out of my mind. Don’t forget scared out of my mind.

‘Come with me,’ he said.

He took my hand, first surprise, and then led me back to the dressing room where we’d started this whole venture. He shut the door and flipped the lock with one hand.

‘Fuck,’ he said. ‘This isn’t supposed to be happening.’ He tugged a hand through his curls, and my clit did a little pitter-patter of want.

‘Which part?’ I said. ‘The part where I’m getting off in front of a bunch of strangers or the part where you abandon me in the midst of it?’

I sounded angrier than I actually was. I was shaking, my teeth clacking together. Part post-orgasm, part panic, part that thing I always felt when I was around Davian. Some force greater than me, pushing me in a million directions.

He crossed the room in a movement that seemed to take less than a single stride, closing in on me. I stepped back to get out of his way, but he stopped me with his hands on my shoulders.

‘The part where I’m falling in lust with you,’ he said. ‘That part is not supposed to happen. But fuck, Janine. You’re just…’

He held me at arm’s length, his gaze raking over me so hard I thought I could feel it. ‘So fucking hot. All curvy and warm, and you smell like caramelised butter and I just fucking want to lick you all over.’

‘Which is …’ He pulled away, stepped away, did the hair thing again that always sent my insides flip-flopping. The lack of his touch so suddenly left me feeling dizzy, breathless.

‘Which is not supposed to happen.’

I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to tell him to stop talking, to get over here and shut up and kiss me, please, for the love of all things, kiss me, but whatever he was working out in his brain was his to work out. Why I was off limits to him I didn’t know. But I understood the struggle. Hadn’t I been having it myself, although for different reasons? How many times had I reminded myself that he was my client, that I needed to keep things professional?

‘I’m going to need some clothes,’ I said.

With a sudden growl, he turned and came at me, moving fast. His mouth opened on mine before I could get another word out, his tongue finding the heat of me. I met him before I could think, groaning against the press of his lips.

He kissed so well, the kind of play that forced my body to arch against him, seeking other points of heat. His teeth tugged at my bottom lip, sucking so hard I felt pain bloom, followed by a sharp pleasure.

I couldn’t resist anything. I needed more, more, more. Ideally now. My hands slipped along the muscles of his hips, up the width of his lower back, urging him harder against me.

He complied, his body melding to mine, the hardening length of his cock pushing into me. I wiggled against him, my body doing everything it could to get as much of him as possible. A voiceless begging.

The kiss broke, leaving us both panting harshly. He dropped his mouth to the side of my neck, kissing along it, leaving little fires on my skin every place his lips touched.

‘Janine,’ he said, a near growl, his fingers digging into my hair to tilt my neck farther. His free hand reached back under my skirt and through my sliced panties to find the swollen and exposed pulse of my clit. His touch was light but perfect, a half-circle that dragged over the pleasure point in just the right rhythm. ‘I want you,’ he said.

I had words, but I couldn’t find them in my brain, and my mouth was busy looking for new places to touch, to kiss, to nibble. My hands, however, did the work for me. I curved my fingers around the length of his cock, stroked him firmly through the fabric until I heard his low groan.

‘Please,’ I said. ‘Please let me have this.’

He leaned his hips away from me, granting me access. I made fast work of his belt and jeans, pulling everything down just enough so that I could see the head of his cock. The sight of it made my clit pulse harder against his touch. The beautiful pale curve, the tiny slit that was already wet with arousal. I wanted him on my tongue. My body and brain were insistent that we do it
nownownow
.

I obliged my own desires, sliding the fabric down to release him entirely. A beautiful cock, long and lean, with a slight upward curve that made my g-spot give a silent cry of joy. Released, it bounced lightly, until I captured it with the curve of my hand and stroked its underside.

Davian groaned a couple of syllables that might have been my name, his kisses replaced by a ragged breath as I began a long slow stroke from his base to his tip, stopping just long enough to gather his moisture with my thumb.

‘Mmm …’ The noises he was making were almost enough to throw me over the edge by themselves. Never mind that he was arching into my touch, leaning his hips in so his erection glided over the curve of my palm.

‘God, Janine.’ Every time he spoke, his voice seemed to be driven lower by his lust, and the sound of it made me want him all over again. ‘If you keep doing that … I can’t … I won’t … mmm…’

‘Won’t what?’ I teased, feathering my touch down along the hang of his balls so that he groaned again. I liked having him in my hand, at my mercy, for once.

‘I forget,’ he said.

‘If I do this –’ I went down on my knees in front of him, looking up at him with his cock held snugly in one hand ‘– will you also forget your name?’

‘I might,’ he said.

I drew my tongue along the underside of his cock, long and slow, tasting as much of him as I could. He tasted clean and sweet, and I coiled my tongue around his head, suckling the moisture from his tip.

‘Wait, I need to touch you,’ he said. He stretched his hands out to me, but I was beyond his reach, already working to take the full length of him into my mouth. I liked having him this way, having him stuttering over his words, unable to help himself. It was a pleasure unlike any I’d known or expected. I toyed with him, licking and sucking, tugging softly at the soft skin of his balls, feeling every nuanced response, listening to every sound that come from him.