I hike up her dress with rough urgency, bunching the cream fabric around her waist. No panties—per my standing order this week—and her pussy is already slick, swollen from anticipation. “Fucking soaked for me,” I growl against her neck, biting down, then licking the sting. “Last night’s lesson stuck, didn’t it? Tied spread-eagle, that dildo fucking you open until you begged... then my cock ruining you.”
“Yes,” she pants, hips grinding against my hand as I slide two fingers inside her heat, curling to hit that spot that makes her knees buckle. She’s molten, clenching greedily, her arousal coating my skin.
I add a third finger, stretching her, thrusting deep and fast while my thumb grinds her clit. “You’ll stay by my side today. Smile. Charm. Let them see how you worship me.” Her head falls back, exposing her throat, and I suck again, marking her as mine. “But remember who owns this cunt.”
“Nico... please...” She’s trembling, close already, her walls fluttering around my fingers.
I withdraw abruptly, denying her the edge, just like I’ve trained her to endure. She whines, frustrated, but her eyes blaze withthat hunger I’ve cultivated. I lick my fingers clean, savoring her taste—tangy, addictive—then straighten her dress with clinical precision. “Good girl. Save that desperation for tonight. Now, compose yourself. Guests will arrive soon.”
She glares, chest heaving, but nods, adjusting her hair with shaky hands. The balance is restored—for now. As we head to the deck, her hand in mine, I feel the power thrumming between us, ready to unleash again when the lights dim.
Up on the deck, the first of the guests are indeed arriving. Eleanor Davenport leads the charge, resplendent in a blue sundress and wide-brimmed hat.
“Nico, darling!” she trills, air-kissing both my cheeks. “And the lovely Lea! My dear, you look absolutely radiant. Love agrees with you, clearly.”
Lea’s laugh is light and genuine sounding. “You’re too kind, Eleanor. I’m so grateful to Nico for organizing this. The Children’s Hospital is such a worthy cause.”
I place my hand on the small of Lea’s back, a gesture of possession disguised as affection. “Lea suggested we make it a regular event,” I lie smoothly. “Her ideas for community engagement are quite impressive.”
Eleanor beams, clearly delighted to have her social manipulation validated. “I always knew you would find the right woman eventually, Nico. Someone who understands your position and responsibilities.”
I feel Lea tense slightly under my hand, but her smile never wavers. “I’m still learning,” she says modestly. “Nico has opened up a whole new world to me.”
The irony of her statement isn’t lost on me. I guide Eleanor and her husband toward the bar, where Blake has arranged for the Davenports’ preferred champagne to be chilled and ready.
“Stay by my side,” I murmur to Lea as more guests arrive. “Don’t wander.”
She gives me a brief nod, her smile fixed in place.
For the next hour, we move through the crowd as a unit, greeting Chicago’s elite with practiced charm. Lea is perfection incarnate—her laughter a sultry melody timed to ensnare, her fingers grazing my arm in a feigned intimacy that sends a jolt straight to my cock, her sharp insights into the charity’s work leaving even the most jaded hospital board members slack-jawed and hungry for more. She’s my weapon, honed sharp, but damn if watching her wield that charm doesn’t stir something primal in my gut.
Then Carl Richter saunters into view. A slick bastard who owns Eclipse, that pretentious high-end club downtown. He’s always sniffing around my VIP clientele like a hyena at a kill. He’s no mafia player, just a greedy entrepreneur with deep pockets and a knack for poaching my whales—luring them with flashier bottle service, exclusive DJs, and whispers of “better vibes.” I’ve been itching to bust his balls, remind him who’s the real king of Chicago’s nightlife. With Lea as my ace, I see the perfect play, which is why he’s here.
“Smile for him, Lea,” I murmur low against her ear, my breath hot on her skin, hand possessive on the small of her back where my fingers dig in just enough to remind her of last night’s bindings. “Devour him with your eyes. Make him believe he’s the only man in the room. Let his wife seethe and let’s see how many of my clients he tries to steal after we make him look like a fool.”
She doesn’t miss a beat, pivoting with that feline grace I’ve fucked into submission night after night. Her body language shifts—head tilting just so, exposing the elegant line of her throat where my marks from last night still linger faintly under a layer of concealer; eyes widening with feigned fascination, dark lashes fluttering; gestures blooming more animated, her hips swaying subtly as she leans in, brushing her arm against his in a way that screams invitation. Carl’s hooked instantly, his gaze dropping to the swell of her breasts in that cream sheath, his voice turning oily with enchantment as he launches into some bullshit about “synergies” between our clubs. His wife, clutching her champagne like a lifeline, glares daggers, her lips thinning into a jealous slash.
Perfect. Now let part two begin.
I thrust my empty glass into Lea’s hand, fingers lingering to brush her wrist where the silk restraints bit deep last night. “Honey, get me another whiskey. The 25-year single malt. Two cubes.”
She excuses herself with a graceful dip, gliding toward the bar, her ass swaying in that dress like a siren’s call. Eyes track her. Predatory stares from men who’d kill for a taste, and appraising glares from women sensing a threat. Fuck their stares. My blood simmers, a low burn I ignore. She’s mine to command, mine to display.
“She’s a goddamn vision,” Carl drawls, still ogling her curves as she leans over the bar, the fabric pulling taut over her hips. “Not your usual arm candy, Varela. I figured you’d stick to the models who don’t talk back. But that one’s got fire and brains. Bet she’d draw a crowd at Eclipse, pull in some VIPs.”
The way he says it—possessive, like he’s already imagining her on his payroll, flirting with my clients to line his pockets—ignites a spark in my chest. The fucker’s not just flirting; he’s scheming, planning to use her as bait for his club. “What did you expect?” I reply, voice deceptively light, but my grip tightens on nothing, knuckles whitening.
“Something disposable. But your Lea? She’s the kind of woman who could really elevate a venue. My crowd would eat her up.”
Your Lea?The prick has no right to even form her name in his mouth. I force neutrality, but my mind races with ways to twist the knife.
“She’s full of surprises,” I say coolly.
Lea returns, handing me the glass with a smile that sticks—genuine? Or part of the act? Her fingers trail mine deliberately, sending sparks up my arm, straight to my hardening cock, making me throb with the urge to bend her over and fuck her senseless.
But then, she ignores me completely, her gaze locked on Carl as if I’m not here. Her fingers trail up his arm now, not just a light touch but a lingering caress that mirrors the way she strokes my cock in the dead of night, slow, teasing, and proprietary.
Her fingertips drag along his sleeve, nails scraping lightly, her body leaning in so her breasts nearly brush his chest. “Tell me, Carl, what makes Eclipse so irresistible? How do you keep drawing in the elite, stealing the spotlight from everywhere else? I’d love to hear your secrets—maybe even see them firsthand.” Her voice is a husky purr, laced with invitation, her free hand resting on her hip, accentuating the curve that makes me want to grip and bruise it anew.
