The Last Love Song (A BWWM BDSM Romance) (11 page)

“I hope your replacements were just as difficult.”

“Of course,” she grinned.

That was all part of our brand - pushing the envelope, seeing what we could get away with.

Tell you the truth, baby, owning a cock ain’t nothin’ .

No, your cock ain’t nothin’, no,

Pussycentric pussymanic pussymagic.

I sang the lyrics, pouting my lips at myself in the mirror.
Real feminist shit right there,
I thought, rolling my eyes to myself. No way would a line like that make it onto the television - but people would hear the bleeps and jump onto Youtube to see what the hell they’d missed.
Just giving the people what they want!

“All right,” I said, sliding from the chair. “Let’s get this shit over with.”

◦◦◦

I never should have made that stupid claim so many years ago. “I don’t do love songs.” The question continued to chase me no matter how many times I offered the same exact answer. “I am not sentimental and I don’t have time for love.” It never changed. I could say it in my sleep.

“I need a minute,” I said to Lexi as I entered my dressing room. I held the door open and waited, gesturing for her to get out.

She made a face -
I know, I know, I’m rude as shit -
but she walked out without complaining. I was about to shut the door but someone crowded into the doorway right behind me, pressing me forward into the room.

“Hey-” I started to protest, but a heavy hand covered my mouth.

I froze. Time itself froze - I stood trapped in that moment as fear turned my blood cold.

The door slammed behind me. I was alone with a strange man, trapped, overpowered,
oh, God…

“Surprise, sweetheart.”

Vaughn!
My limbs turned to jelly with relief. I twisted around in his grip and stepped away. Whatever he saw on my face made him chuckle.

“You scared the shit out of me!” I exclaimed. But I wasn’t angry. Not really. I was just happy to see him. “I didn't think you'd be here. You weren't assigned. Where's the other guy?”

"I arranged a little switch-off." He said it like it was no big deal, but what if his coworker suspected something. "Trust me," he said.

I nodded.

"Sit."

I sank to the soft cream-colored couch, and he leaned back against the vanity where half of my hair products still resided. I could see myself in the mirror behind him, surrounded by tiny white bulbs. I looked different than I did only a minute ago. Softer. It was nearly imperceptible, but I saw it.

And I felt it. I relaxed into the couch and waited for him to speak, waited for him to tell me what to do next.

"Show me."

"Show you what?"

"Sir."

My eyes narrowed. "Excuse me?"

"Show me how you performed your assignment. And call me 'sir.'"

My pride made me want to rebel, but my body had other ideas. Already my awareness of the world around me had shrunk to the size of the room. My work, my worries, my responsibilities - mist.

Still, this was escalating a little quickly. He'd barely said hello! "Can't you at least pretend to be civilized for a minute? Try asking me how my day was, maybe?"

He quirked an eyebrow at that, expectancy written all over his face, and waited. His silence alone was enough to make me cringe.

Finally, tentatively, I added, "Sir?"

A wolfish grin spread across his face. "How was your day, honey?"

"Long. Busy." What was I doing? I didn't want to talk about my day. As soon as the words came out of my mouth, I was rolling my eyes at myself. I'd been waiting to meet him like this again for too long, I didn't get Vaughn alone often enough to waste our time on pleasantries - not if I wanted to keep exploring this thing I had with him.

He read me like a book. "Done?" He asked. I nodded. "So show me."

I hitched up the short skirt of my red minidress, revealing my lacy black thong.
I can't believe I'm doing this
.

"I started like this," I said, tracing my fingers across the soft skin of my inner thighs. I hoped he wasn't planning on just watching me reenact his assignment - it had been a slow, sweet torture, but that wasn't what I wanted right then - not with him finally there, just out of reach. I wanted more than my own slender hands could give me.

"Then what?"

I bit my lip. Was I really going to reveal myself to him? I was as nervous as a schoolgirl after prom! No one had ever made me feel like this.
Do it. You want to. Just go with it
. "Then I pulled my panties away a little." I did as I described, pulling the now damp material aside, baring my sex to him.

He inhaled sharply.

I'd been onstage in front of thousands, in videos seen by millions, in every hot and revealing sort of outfit imaginable, and I never felt as sexy as I did in that moment.

I spread my legs even wider, baring all to him. Watching his eyes, I dragged a finger through my soft folds.

"How did you touch yourself?" he asked. "How did you get yourself to the edge?"

"I touched my clit," I said shyly. Another word I could sing on onstage but was sheepish to say to him. "Just in gentle circles at first." I did as I said, teasing my sensitive pearl. The light contact made me ache for more.

"Keep touching yourself for me, honey," he said, pulling out his phone.

I tensed. "What are you doing?"

"I want to remember this when we're apart."

"No." I clamped my legs together tight, hiding myself away.

"No?" He asked, his voice quiet. Dangerous.

But I wasn't playing. "No, Vaughn." I emphasized his name. "I can't have something like that leak. I can't risk it." Something crossed his face. Hurt? "I trust you," I said quickly. "But I don't trust the cloud." I’d only ever taken one, single naked video in all my life. With Camden, of course, young idiot that I was. We’d deleted it, but the thought of it magically reappearing made me break out in a cold sweat.

"Okay," he said, jamming the phone back in his pocket.

"Okay?"

"Yes. I want to push your boundaries, Zenaida, but I don't want to do anything that you're truly uncomfortable with."

"Oh." Thoughtful and considerate on top of everything else. What planet was this man from?

“Where were we?” He asked. “I didn't tell you to put that pussy away.” I smiled and let my legs fall back open. “Panties off,” he said. “No more fooling around. Show me how to really get down to it.”

How I really get down to it is normally in a rush
, I thought as I tugged my panties down over my legs. But Vaughn didn't seem like the type to rush - he was a man who liked to take his time. I dropped the damp garment onto the floor next to me, then spread my legs once more to him, baring all this time.

He made a sound of approval low in his throat. I spurred me on - I dragged a finger between the petals of my sex before focusing in on my clit, resuming my slow circling. It felt so hot, so sexy to be doing that in front of him. I moaned a little, beginning to appreciate having an audience. There was something very gratifying about the burning in his eyes.

I was so into it that he startled me when he moved. He leaned over me, placing one hand on the wall just behind my shoulder. Then he placed his other hand over mine, between my legs. His finger curved over my own as I froze.

"Keep going."

I looked up into his eyes as I resumed my circular motions. The added pressure from his own finger, his body heat, his very scent - I was suddenly so much hotter, so much needier - so much closer to the edge.

"This is how you like it?" he asked, his breath hot against my cheek. I nodded, biting my lip. I was afraid if I tried to speak my words would only come out as one long moan. It was such a strange sensation, too. I craved his touch, and I almost had it - but he was really only touching my finger. Shivers of pleasure rolled through me as I continued stroking my sensitive button, but what I needed even more was for him to take over - to take control of my body.

I'd never experienced anything like it before. When had I become so eager to let go?

"What about like this?" he asked. Then he guided my finger with his, downward, between my slick nether lips and to the source of my essence. Then, still guiding, he pressed my finger along with his own inside my aching walls.

My mouth fell open and my head fell back. I could feel myself fluttering and clenching around my intruding digit - and his.

He took my open mouth as an invitation and plunged his tongue inside with a deep and fiery kiss. He swallowed up the moans that flowed from me. My hips rose, dancing against our hands as he pressed us as deeply inside my body as he could.

Our fingers thrust slowly, building a rhythm together. I was drunk on his kiss, on his touch - but was he even actually touching me? He was still only guiding me. He wasn't taking me. And the longer in went on, the more I wanted it. I was spiraling higher, slowly higher, but there was the promise of even greater pleasure in the air, the distant scent of something so much more intense - a hint of his power, and what he could do to me.

His words returned to me from that night at the pool.
"You aren't ready for what I want to do to you, yet."
Was I, now?

Softly, I moaned his name. "Vaughn." It sounded more like a whine. A plea.

"Do you want to come, sweetheart?" he asked.

"Yes. Yes." I nodded fervently as tremors of excitement wracked my body.
Yes
.

"Say it."

I hesitated only a moment. "I want to come."

"Ask me."

Fuck, his voice - that deep gravelly sound was going to drive me wild. Especially when he was so demanding. "Can I come?" I asked. Then I ventured, "Can I come, sir?"

He grunted, and I could see the muscles in his arm tense as he braced himself harder against the wall behind me. I filed that away for later.

"Very good," he said, brushing my cheek with his knuckles, and my chest swelled with pride at his praise.

He sank down to the floor, kneeling between my legs. "What are you doing?" I asked, suddenly alarmed.

"Trust me," he commanded. And I did. I just had never met a man before who liked to do what he was apparently preparing to do. And none who were any good at it, either. It always felt really awkward.

But if anybody knew what they were doing, it was Vaughn. My breathing quickened as he spread my thighs wider and leaned in.

With a feather-light touch, he kissed my swollen nether lips. I shifted. My body was yearning for firmer contact, was nearly ready to explode. But Vaughn was going to do things his way. He kissed me lightly over and over until I was squirming off the chair, head thrown back and gasping. But I gripped the armrests and I trusted him to take me where I needed to go in due time - because that's what he'd told me to do.

Then, gently, he stroked my clit with his tongue.

I lifted from the seat. "Oh! Oh, fuck-"

"Shh," he said, rubbing my thigh, "If you make too much noise, I'm going to stop. Understand?"

"Yes," I whispered. I cleared my throat and settled back down. It was hard. I was so turned on that it hurt, and everything inside of me was throbbing with need.

I inhaled sharply when he licked me again. Biting down on my tongue, I thought,
I can do this
. He laved my clit over and over while he held my legs apart, increasing his pressure with every pass. I tensed and I ground myself into each stroke, so close, so close-

I cried out when he slid two thick fingers inside my body. Lifting from the seat, groaning with abandon, I couldn't help the sounds I made. It just felt too good, so good, there was no stopping them.

"What did I say?" he growled, backing away.

"Please, Vaughn, please sir, don't stop, don'tstop don'tstop..." The words poured from me in a desperate chant. He held his fingers still, curved right against my g-spot, pressing it hard.
Maybe I can get off like this
. I writhed wantonly on his hand.