Three and a Half Weeks(54)

“I’ll make it up to you soon, Ella. Just hold on a bit longer.”

“Why?”

“Do you really want to come here, with all these people around you?”

“Right now I don’t give much of a damn. But you know that, Ian, since you’re the one doing it to me.”

His hand goes back up my dress but this time he starts pulling on the plug, inching it out and then back in and twisting it back and forth. With the same hand, he slides his thumb into me in front. It should be obviously apparent to others around us as to what we’re doing since he has to bend his knees to put his hand up my dress… but the idea that people may be watching does not horrify me as it should. What is wrong with me? When my eyes are locked with Ian’s, the whole world recedes into the background like a blurry photo of a crowd. My knees buckle again and I lean my head on his shoulder. Just as I move into the orgasm, he stops again.

Okay, fine! Two can play at the same game. Without caring if anyone can see, I put my hand over his crotch and start rubbing it in earnest. He smiles and remains perfectly composed. How the fuck does he do that? I’m never going to win with him as my opponent. Ever.

Nevertheless I keep it up (excuse the pun). When I feel him get even harder than he was already, I stop and wait a few moments. Then I start up again. While I’m rubbing him, I kiss his throat, lick his ear, suck his earlobe, and finally bite his neck—hard. As soon as he feels my teeth sink into his flesh, his eyelids flutter closed for a brief moment, and then he grabs my hand, roughly leading me out of the club and right into a waiting taxi. I can’t help but smile.

After giving the driver the address of the hotel, he leans back and looks at me. Seeing my triumphant grin, he merely raises a brow. “Battle conceded, war still up for grabs,” he says as his hand goes back up my dress.





Chapter 15




Despite heavy Saturday night traffic, they get back to the hotel in ten minutes. Ian had his hand up her dress for the whole ride—inching her inexorably to the cliff edge and then easing her back—and she is seconds away from coming when the taxi pulls in front of the hotel. As they wait for the elevator, Ian sees Ella’s face is flushed and her eyes are bright and shining.

“Have I ever told you that you’d look beautiful in silks?” he asks, as soon as he closes their room door behind him. He slides off the black leather messenger bag slung over his shoulder and begins to remove the items he purchased from Get your Kinks. Ella is watching, mesmerized, as he pulls out the long silky scarf-like binds, the blindfold, clamps, and butterfly vibrator—he remembered she liked that the first time he used it on her.

When he finishes taking the items out, she catches his eyes and slowly raises the hem of her dress higher and higher until it goes over her head. She’s practically naked now, since he deprived her of any underwear. She’s wearing only her thigh-high black silk stockings, the new collar, her kick-ass shoes, and the bejeweled butt plug. She looks ridiculously sexy, Ian thinks, his pants becoming uncomfortably tight. He shifts his hips, trying for a more comfortable position.

“I do wish you were wearing a tie tonight, Ian, so I can lead you to the bed by it. I always wanted to do that to a tall, dark, and handsome stranger. You fit the bill.”

He smiles, going for a rakish look. “I’ll put one on if it means that much to you, baby.”

She eyes him up and down and he thinks she likes his attire by the hungry look in her eyes—or is she focused only on what’s underneath? Though he took time in selecting the clothes he’d worn tonight—black tailored pants, a charcoal silk shirt, and a black cashmere cardigan, his prized accessory is the one causing the trouser tent in the front of his pants.

Stalking towards him, her head tilted down in a predatory fashion, she replies. “Not strictly necessary. I can improvise.” She reaches him and grabs his collar with both hands, yanking him with her as she steps backward toward the fluffy white bed. Apparently she doesn’t intend to let him continue with the program, if she could help it. Ian, however, has other plans.

“As I said, you will look so very good in silks, Ella. So indulge me,” he gently removes her hands and steps back over to his goodies, grabbing the silky scarves.

He sits on the edge of the bed and pats the mattress next to him. “Come here.” She immediately moves to him and he kisses her, long and hard, holding her head to his so she cannot move. “Lie down in the center of the bed.” His voice has quickly slid from seductive lover to demanding Dominant with no segue. The unpredictability is intentional: it will keep her off balance.