Torn: Part Two (An Alpha Billionaire Romance) (The Torn Series Book 2) (3 page)

“I had a lot of fun with you tonight.” Sir Jeremy reaches up to brush a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

“I did too.” I stare down at the pavement, hating that he's making our last few moments together so intense.

“Maybe I'll see you again,” he sounds hopeful.

“I'll be around.”

“I should probably rephrase that.” He takes a step closer, making me feel claustrophobic. His large fingers touch the underside of my chin, tilting my face up and forcing me to look at him. “I'd like to see you again.”

Darkness is in his eyes—the look that says he wants me. Once wasn't enough for him. He's making that as clear as day.

I swat his hand away, but I don't break his gaze. “Listen, Jeremy, Sir. I had fun with you tonight too. But it was a one-time thing.”

“Did you not enjoy yourself?” His expression twists in offense.

“No. It's not that.” I quickly shake my head. Realizing that I need to do damage control, I slide my thumbs into the pockets of his pants. “You were good. Really good. Amazing, even. It's just...a personal thing.”

“Explain,” his tone is hard.

I cringe inside, annoyed that he's pushing me.

“I like to keep sex and emotions separate. One time is fine, but if we do it more than once...” I trail off, unsure of how else to explain myself.

“What if that's what I want from you?” The muscles in his jaw relax. He seems pleased with my response.

“I'm not at a place in my life where I can handle having emotional attachments.” I stare out towards the street. Not only is it a true statement, but I also don't want to get close to anyone. Not now. Not ever again.

“I'm sorry to hear you say that.” He takes a few steps backwards. The night air rushes in to fill the gap between us, and I feel like I can breathe again. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

“I will.” I smile at him, watching him turn and walk back towards the club. As soon as his back is to me, I scowl. He was nice, but a bit too possessive. And he completely screwed me out of the chance to be with one of the most gorgeous men I've ever laid eyes on.

CHAPTER TWO

HOLDEN

It's been a long day spent pouring over facts and numbers of a pharmaceutical company that claims they've figured out a cure for HIV but don't have the means to produce it. Investing is serious business, and one wrong transaction can rob me of millions of dollars in the blink of an eye. The company seems promising. They've produced a lot of good work throughout the three years that they've been around. I've heard pipe dream promises before though. Cures for cancer and Alzheimers and AIDs. A dying company will say whatever it has to to get more funding and stay afloat.

I don't want to think about that anymore though. That's why I came here, to Club Fet. Leave business at the door. Pleasure awaits inside.

I slip in through the backdoor to avoid the bustling crowd up front, and the dungeon master nods me in. This is another investment of mine though more on a personal level. Things that I enjoy, I don't mind throwing money at, especially if it makes life more convenient for me. And I have a lot of money to throw around. More than any one person could ever need.

My eyes scan the crowd, a mix of about seventy-five percent regulars and twenty-five percent new members who just want a taste of the lifestyle. It's easy to separate the serious kinksters from the ones who are just curious. The serious ones are more engaged, roaming the floor and the play areas, searching for someone to take them on. All the rest are wallflowers, sticking to the seating areas and staring in wonder at everything going on around them. I make no judgment about them. They bring business to this place, and for that, they're useful.

I inhale deeply, taking in the faint scents of leather and sex and alcohol on my way up to the play area. All of the faces upstairs are familiar. Some of the owned submissives avert their eyes. Others smile and politely greet me. Many of them, I've had before. I want something different tonight. Something new and exciting to distract my mind from the day's business.

The club is packed. I lean on the railing, staring down at the crowd of gyrating bodies on the dance floor. There's a strobe light playing on top of them, making it difficult to pick out faces. After a few minutes, I turn my attention to the seating area. If I were in a better mood, I'd go socialize. That's not what I'm here for though. I'm here for...

A woman sitting with a group of regulars catches my attention. I can't fully see her face, but she has a beautiful profile. Long black hair waving softly over her shoulders and down her back. A smooth, pale complexion. Large breasts pushed up high in a tight red corset.

I trace my tongue over my bottom lip, my eyes moving to the Dom sitting beside her. Jeremy Matthews. Several years younger than me. Relatively new to the lifestyle, but already proving to be a competent Dom. So many of them come to the club half-cocked, thinking they can get in on the action with no experience. The kid has shown a willingness to learn though, and he's certainly already made himself popular with the ladies. Charismatic and hard to hate, that one.

I should forget about the girl sitting beside him. It's obvious that he's already won her over. Time to move on to someone more accessible, though no one else in the club is anywhere near as stunning.

I allow my gaze to lazily drift over the other new faces in the room. It keeps coming back to her, though, to the gorgeous raven-haired girl who looks oh so miserable sitting with Sir Jeremy. There's no harm in staring at her until someone else of interest comes in. Even if Sir Jeremy catches me, he won't do anything about it. He has a healthy fear of me, as does everyone else in here who knows me. If I want her badly enough, I could come take her. There are rules in places like this though, and I'd lose a lot of respect if I broke them. It's better to let this one slide.

She turns her head and our eyes lock. The dark eyeliner she's wearing makes the pale blue of her irises stand out. Her face is even more beautiful from the front than it was from the side. Her lips are full, the color of blood. I can imagine that mouth wrapped around my dick, and my body stirs with want.

I expect her to avert her eyes the moment she catches me staring, but she doesn't. Heat flushes her cheeks before reaching her gaze and pushing through the air to meet me. Any question I had about her loyalty to Jeremy is answered in that instant. The interest is there—the same desire firing back at me.

Then Sir Jeremy ruins the moment by nudging her shoulder. He glances up at me, and I know he can see my intent. I want to fuck her, and if he breaks away from her for even the briefest amount of time, I'll swoop in and claim her. From here on out, it's going to be all about playing the waiting game.

There's no point in staying upstairs in plain sight. That will only make me look like a creeper. It's time to retreat to the shadows and bide my time.

I find a table in the corner of the room, away from the action, and position my chair so that I have a clear line of sight. It seems that Sir Jeremy has managed to get the raven-haired beauty back in line by engaging her in conversation. There's no smile on her face. I wonder who she is to him or what has transpired between them tonight, not that any of it really matters. Just something to think about to pass the time. It doesn't change my need to conquer her. She could be his sister, for all I care. It wouldn't stop me.

I prop my elbows up on the table and steeple my hands, trying to get comfortable in case it's a long wait. I can be rather patient when it comes to getting what I want—at least, in situations like this. Other circumstances might make me less rational. Seduction is an art, though, an art that takes time and precision and care.

I sit and wait and watch. She's drinking like alcohol is going out of style, which displeases me. I prefer my submissives to be completely coherent during sex. Beggars can't be choosers though, and my need to bury my dick between her soft folds is much greater than my need to have her sober.

Finally, she looks around again. It doesn't take her long to find me. As soon as she does, her eyes come to life. I don't waver. We can eye fuck each other until the world ends, but that doesn't change the distance between us. I can't advance. Not while she's sitting with Jeremy's group.

As if reading my mind, she stands suddenly. My pulse quickens as I realize she's crossing the room towards me. There's no need for me to move. She's going to deliver herself right into my arms—into my bed.

But then Sir Jeremy notices that his little prize is missing, and he scowls in my direction before chasing after her. I curse internally though there's no point in getting upset about it. Just because he's trying to pull her back doesn't mean that she's lost to me.

They stop and talk. Then she turns towards the door and he flanks her side to walk her out of the club.

Fuck! It's game over.

“Sir Holden?” A feminine voice grabs my attention, making me jerk my head away from the door.

“What?” I growl in discontent.

The woman standing beside me cowers slightly, her big blue eyes apologetic. My expression softens in recognition.

“I'm sorry to bother you, Sir. I just saw you sitting here alone and thought you might want some company.”

I scan the cute little jumper dress she's wearing. Delia has always had a way of looking innocent, even though every guy in the club knows she's far from it. Her long auburn hair is tied into a loose ponytail and slung over one shoulder. She keeps her hands behind her back, her fingers entwined together, appearing far younger than her age, even though she's several years older than me.

I stand, towering over her. I reach a hand up to brush her ponytail back over her shoulder. My fingertips whisper across her skin, and her lush pink lips form a little O while her eyelids become hooded with desire.

“Yes. I do think I would enjoy some company tonight.”

***

“Isn't that much better?” I circle her, admiring the rope woven under her breasts, framing each one and squeezing them so that they swell. Her wrists are bound to her knees, and I have her bent over, waiting to receive a flogging.

She's already completely lost in subspace just from the shibari alone. She's always been easy to please. It's one thing I love about her, but also something I hate. Obedient submissives are great. When they're too compliant, though, it takes a lot of the fun out of it. Luckily for her, tonight I want easy. No struggle. No fuss. No pissing me off.

“Stick that ass out,” I tell her, wanting to see her exposed ass and pussy. She's stripped down to nothing but the black strappy high heels she wore into the private play area, looking sexy as hell. I can't help but wonder what the raven-haired girl would have looked like.

Delia pushes her ass out and flattens her back, ready to receive whatever I plan to do to her. The strips of suede from the flogger I'm holding slide through my fingers as I run my hand down it. It's not one I typically use, but Delia prefers being bound and fucked more than she likes pain, so I have to go gentle on her.

I tighten my grip on the falls, outstretching the flogger before lightly slapping just the tails on her ass.

“Thank you, Sir,” she cries out in response.

She winces and hisses from the sting of each strike, but I don't stop. The room fills with the sounds of her gratitude and soft suede hitting vulnerable flesh.

One strike after another lands against her pale skin and the stress starts to leave me. Knowing that I'm in control of another human being's pain and pleasure has always been empowering to me. I'm in control of a lot of people in my day to day life, but this is different. It's almost like a high. Seeing the pretty, pink welts form gets my blood pumping in all of the right places. Endorphins fire off inside of my brain, flooding me with pleasure that nothing else can compare to.

“That's a good girl.” I watch her ass bounce as the pain intensifies from me striking the same spot over and over again. Her small, shaven pussy is visible between her spread legs. My cock twitches from staring at it, and I wonder how wet she is—wonder if she's going to come the second that I thrust myself into her. It never takes a lot for Delia. Between the bondage and the flogging, I imagine that she's well geared up for me.

The thought of being inside of her is more than I can handle. But it's not her that I want. I fight back a scowl as I remember Sir Jeremy practically leading the raven-haired women out of the club. He wasn't going to let me have her. I should have had the common sense to know that the second he caught me staring.

“I'm done with this.” I toss the flogger to the side, needing something more intense to distract my mind.

“Thank you, Sir,” Delia pants, and I can tell by the flush of her cheeks that she's almost at the limits of her pain threshold. Perhaps I was a bit too hard on her. If that were the case, though, she would have told me. She's always been good at vocalizing, about letting me know when it's too much.

I pull a metal folding chair up and sit on it, unzipping my pants to pull my dick out. It's already fully engorged from the excitement of the scene and thoughts of what Raven might look like naked. I give it a few strokes, staring up at Delia in thought.

“Back that shit up. And don't turn around. I don't want to see your face.” I might not be able to have Raven, but at least I can pretend.

“Yes, Sir.” Delia faces forward, taking slow, awkward steps backward towards me.

When she reaches me, she slowly lowers herself. I catch her hips before she has a chance to slide all the way down on me. “Stay.”

“Yes, Sir,” she whispers, her voice breathy with want.

I grip the base of my cock, closing my eyes and swiping it back and forth between her folds. She's so wet, the heat of her sex nearly searing.

“Tell me you want it,” I growl, waiting for the right moment to make my move.

“I want it, Sir. Please. Give it to me.” Her body moves slightly as she struggles for balance.

“That's not good enough.” I stop at her hole, arching up to press just the tip inside, probing gently.

“I need it. I have to have it. You're driving me insane.”

“Beg.” I pull back, feeling my length twitch in disapproval.

“I'm begging you, Sir. Please, let me feel your cock inside of me.”

“Tch.” It's not enough. She gives in way too easily. There's no challenge, not that I suspected there would be. Maybe this isn't what I want tonight after all. Regardless, I'm going to take it.

Tired of playing games, I grab her by the hips and force her down on me. She cries out in surprise, her full weight coming back on me. I stifle a groan as her slick cavern squeezes around me, fitting me like a glove. Would the raven-haired girl feel like this? I wonder. I'll probably never know. Newbies come and go at Club Fet, as fleeting as the wind. More than likely, I'll never see her again.