Читать книгу Do Not Disturb: An Erotica Collection - Elizabeth Coldwell - Страница 4

‘Open your legs. Wider. Now push out that delectable little ass. I want you spread and ready.’

The voice in my earphone is deep and stirring. Whenever I hear it I melt, like I’m chocolate cake.

Maybe to him I am chocolate cake – with cream on.

It’s late evening and I’m leaning on the bar of a plush hotel. The barman gives me a long look as he shakes my cocktail.

I guess he’s used to seeing women dressed like this. I’m heavily made up, with piled-up hair, a skimpy, revealing satin dress and high heels.

I’m even wearing diamonds – real ones.

I may look expensive but I feel cheap. Or maybe it’s the other way round. Tonight I’m so excited I can’t think straight.

I can also feel colour in my cheeks and a sparkle in my eye. It’s not just from excitement. There’s more than a touch of fear in there somewhere too.

I don’t do this very often.

‘Lean forward. Keep your legs straight. I want the men around you to wonder if you’re wearing panties. Move a little.’

I sway provocatively as I sip my drink. I’m hot now, partly from shame, partly from sheer, thumping arousal.

He knows perfectly well I’m not wearing any. I was ordered to leave them off.

His low command sends a shaft of heat straight to my groin.

Has he any idea how short this dress is? If I lean forward any further everyone here will know for sure …

The men around me all know I’m here. No one’s looking at me but I’m a female on heat. I can sense their interest. They’re waiting to see who’s with me.

‘Are you OK, Miss?’

Even the barman’s curious now. There are other people waiting to be served but he ignores them. Maybe he thinks I’ve had too much to drink.

The earpieces are wired to my phone. To everyone else around here it must look like I’m listening to music. I smile at him and nod.

He colours a little and looks pleased.

Is he going to chat me up? This might be a complication. But the men are tired of waiting and soon get his attention.

‘Now take a step back and arch your neck. Make sure all the men at the bar can get a good look at your tits.’ That voice, his voice, purrs again in my ear and I take a careful step back, hoping I don’t stab anyone’s foot. These heels are lethal.

Several of the men are openly staring now, eyeing me as if I’m not only chocolate cake but the last piece left on the plate.

This could get tricky.

I know what they’re thinking but so might the management. Any minute now someone might decide to throw me out.

I feel warmth behind me, a brush of fabric. Heat flares deep in my belly.

He’s here.

He leans forward and places his hands on the bar at either side of me in a frank, alpha-territorial land-grab. From somewhere above and behind me he calls to the barman, who scuttles over.

No waiting around for Mr Alpha. He always gets instant service.

‘Another cocktail for the lady. For me a scotch. Make it a double.’

The barman looks a little scared. ‘Yes, Sir. On the tab?’

I feel my earpieces being gently removed. Mr Alpha leans close to my ear as he unlaces the wiring and reaches round to retrieve my phone from somewhere deep between my breasts.

His fingers deliberately graze my nipple. It stiffens and prods against the thin satin, telling anyone who happens to be watching that I’m a needy, greedy slut. I can almost hear him think it as he slips my technology into his pocket.

‘Now walk slowly over to the table by the palm and wait.’

I do as I’m told. Men’s eyes follow me all the way. There’s some sort of corporate event taking place tonight and I’m one of the only women around.

I’m certainly the only woman dressed like this.

The table is a small circle perched on a stand. People are discouraged from sitting for long. They’re urged to stand while they drink so they can join the dance floor.

He follows me and sets down our drinks on the little circle between us. We stand side by side, our backs to the palm. He lifts his scotch and toasts me in a mild, sardonic greeting. I raise my second cocktail of the evening and touch his glass.

Our eyes lock, his full of fire, mine, I’m sure, bright with excitement.

Slowly he inspects my full, painted lips, my bare throat and my deep cleavage. As his eyes roam over me his gaze falls on my upper breasts, pink with my embarrassment, rosy with arousal.

He looks amused. He’s enjoying this.

I know what he likes. And he knows I find his demands hard to meet.

That’s why he makes them.

‘You’re late.’

I feel a tremor go through me. This could mean trouble.

I smile confidently, my fingers idly running up and down the stem of my cocktail glass in a casual imitation of a lewd caress. Slowly I spear the little cherry and suck it with pursed, baby-doll lips.

His hand steals up the back of my thigh and encounters my naked self, shamefully exposed under my short, frilly hem and already disgracefully, lustfully wet.

His fingertips explore a little, while his steady gaze dares me to keep still. He asks me about my journey and how my day has gone. I do my best to keep calm enough to answer while all the time I tingle and seethe, desperately wanting to giggle and wriggle and shout.

His fingers slide in deeper and my voice falters. He frowns while I struggle to regain control. It’s unwise to provoke him this early in the evening. It might lead to – complications.

His eyes narrow. ‘Any particular reason? Or did you just think I like to be kept waiting?’

I plop the cherry back in my drink, hoping to distract him. I slide the tip of my tongue slowly along my lower lip. The toe of my shoe moves gently along the inner edge of his trouser leg, just above the ankle.

His fingers take instant advantage of my splayed leg and his hand is now fully engaged with my nether regions, sending flames shooting all over my skin. A trickle of moisture runs down the inside of my thigh.

My faltering apology reaches the ears of the kindly barman, who is now collecting glasses from the next stand. He glances over at me with real concern and then looks away quickly as Mr Alpha catches his eye.

The barman has kind eyes and tousled blond hair with streaks in it. He’s good-looking in a windswept, boyish kind of way. Mr Alpha continues to watch him as he moves around the tables.

‘Do you know each other?’ I joke.

‘We might have played the odd game of squash,’ he says airily.

Oh? When?

‘He’s very athletic.’ He turns to me, his expression opaque. ‘Why? Do you like him?’

I colour and lower my eyelashes, unsure where this is going. ‘He seems nice.’

He knows him? What else has he kept from me?

‘Will he be joining us later?’ My whisper is barely audible but I see his lips twitch at the corner. Clearly this has also occurred to him.

‘Possibly. I’ll think about it. Dance?’

We join the other couples swaying on the dance floor but now I’m nervous.

The lights are low and the coloured spots play over the crowd, breaking up sight lines, confusing the view, but he always dances close. And when he dances close he holds me firmly at the back, his hand now low on my waist, then lower.

His fingers move gently, their warmth sending shivers through me.

I feel his thumb through the thin fabric, pressing into my muscles, teasing me. His grip hoists my brief hem a touch higher all the time we move and I begin quietly to panic.

Will someone see? Will they notice that underneath I’m bare and exposed, and shamefully, outrageously wet …?

He dances beautifully. He is tall and powerful looking, with regular, classical features that make most women melt, most men jealous. In a crowded room most eyes are on him most of the time, so when we dance they’re on me as well.

I know I’m lucky but he’s very demanding.

He works hard and makes a lot of money. In these situations I’m expected to look my best. That takes time and effort.

Like Dolly Parton says, it costs an awful lot to look this cheap.

And the effects can be unpredictable. That’s one reason I’m nervous.

The other is the way he’s looking at me now.

‘Shall we go up? You first. I’ll follow in a few minutes.’

As I leave I see from the corner of my eye that he’s talking to the barman. They look easy together, like they know each other well.

I strain to catch what they’re saying. ‘… Something extra for the weekend …’

I lose the rest in a sudden swell of music.

They share a smile at this old-fashioned male saying.

I turn away with a frown. He’s got no condoms? How odd.

No matter. I’ve got plenty.

* * *

Our suite is huge, with views all over the city. We leave the drapes open on purpose, partly to maximise the thrill of what comes next, partly so we can see it. The windows are glossy with night sky and make perfect mirrors.

The door opens and softly closes and I know he’s here. He comes up behind me, his reflection looming over my shoulder like a demon in a painting. He winds his arms around me and fastens his mouth on the side of my neck.

‘At last. I thought we’d never get here.’

I swivel in his arms and he fastens his lips on mine, plundering my mouth like he’s starved. His hands are all over me, feeling, probing, turning the thin silk dress into a limp dishrag, making me feel the same way.

‘Shall I take it off?’ I murmur playfully when he finally releases my mouth.

His eyes burn into mine and I see a flash of anger.

Whoa. Now what?

‘No. Leave it on. You’ve got some explaining to do.’

He takes firm hold of my wrist and drags me over to the bed. He sits down with an angry flop and pushes me down onto my knees.

As he does so he’s tearing at his clothes and soon they are flung at random all over the floor and he is sitting naked before me, his manhood, huge and erect, jutting aggressively into my face.

This is so hot … I could look at him like this for hours.

‘There’s the small matter of you being late. Two minutes. Explain.’ His jaw is rigid, his eyes blazing.

He is very aroused.

Automatically I put my hands behind my back and clasp them loosely together. We used to do this often, but it’s been a while …

‘Forgive me, Sir,’ I manage. ‘I’d no idea. I thought I was on time.’

It’s a feeble excuse at best and nowhere near enough to let me off the hook he’s planning.

‘Two minutes. How many seconds in a minute?’

‘Sixty, sir.’ My whisper is a little shaky. I know what is coming.

‘And in two?’

‘A hundred and twenty, Sir.’ I hang my head.

His eyes narrow with a terrifying gleam. ‘Then you’ll get a spanking of one hundred and twenty strokes. Sixty now. Get over my knee.’

With a surge of excitement I clamber into position and he pulls up my scanty, rumpled skirt.

First he teases me with lube, his fingers lingering provocatively at my openings and then easing deep into one of them. That one. I gasp. After a second he probes it with something tapered and frighteningly solid. That feels lubed too.

‘Had you forgotten? I promised you something new. Relax, it’s going in whether you like it or not’

It’s a butt plug. I clench my teeth as he slides the huge, obscene thing into place. My muscles grip it eagerly. My clit gives an answering jolt of arousal – and then it begins.

He starts light but the blows come thick and fast. In all the excitement my breasts tumble out of my plunging neckline and bounce against his thigh.

Every few strokes he pauses to massage and caress me. His touch is unbearably gentle. Tears smart at the back of my eyes from the sting of the blows but they spill over at the tenderness of his touch. Then he starts again.

After a while I come violently, crying out for a pause to catch my breath and savour the pleasure, but he carries on, ignoring my pleas.

During the next ten strokes my excitement begins to build again and this time I can feel his erection jut painfully into my leg. I’m poised on the brink of another massive orgasm when he shifts position and cruelly moves his knee away from my aching, burning centre.

Now the jolt of his hand prods me ever closer to climax but I never quite reach it. My tears and whimpers get louder as I try to wriggle back into position.

Deliberately he fends me off and forces me to keep still. I can hear a low growl of arousal deep in his throat. ‘You want to come again? When I say so, not before.’

Ow. Harsh words, but just. I feel hotter than ever.

At last the spanking is done and I lie on the bed panting with my burning backside high in the air. His hands are hot now. With one last, glorious fondle he massages me again and then pushes me back onto my knees.

‘Now a small token of thanks. Take it in your mouth.’

He’s still angry. Most of his rage seems to be centred in his purplish, swollen erection. It almost burns in my mouth. As I swirl my tongue around the silky skin he shudders convulsively and lets out a deep male groan.

‘Hey, easy. We’ve a long way to go yet.’

Easy is impossible, his cock is too big. It’s all I can do to swallow but he pulls me forward a few times to set up a rhythm and soon I’m gulping lustily, catching my breath between strokes and stifling my gag reflex as best I can.

I love this, choking on him, being filled by him. I could do this for hours …

He pulls me over his knee again.

At that moment there’s a knock at the door. It opens softly and someone comes in.

‘Room service, Sir.’

It’s the kindly barman. He holds a tray aloft, bearing another cocktail and two scotches. He pauses just inside the door, transfixed, his eyes locked on my burning rear end, my spilling breasts and the huge, jutting erection clearly visible below my arched body.

‘Where would you like it, Sir?’

Mr Alpha pushes me off his knee and gives me a stern look as he commands me to keep still. I kneel obediently, glad of a chance to catch my breath. He strides purposefully over to the barman, commanding me to stand.

As I do so the barman stares at me, taking me in. He pales.

I flush crimson and dash away a tear.

Mr Alpha towers over him, magnificent, erect, rampant. He looks sensational. The barman is visibly moved, but his glance keeps stealing towards me.

He lowers his voice. ‘Are you sure about this, Sir? She’s gorgeous. I could come back later –’

Mr Alpha’s jaw stiffens and the poor man falters into silence. They continue to eye each other.

I’m worried now. Is it me who’s intruding here?

‘Chill. It’s just a bit of fun. Have a drink.’ Mr Alpha gently takes the tray out of his hand, sets it down on a side table and hands him a scotch.

It’s then that I realise – he’s brought three drinks.

He’s here by invitation.

At that moment Mr Alpha glances across and my fears are laid to rest. Mr Alpha’s physique clearly overawes the barman but when Mr Alpha eyes him something in his look remains veiled.

When he looks at me – pow. There’s the heat.

Now he fingers the barman’s lapel, a seemingly intimate gesture that only seconds before I might have misread.

‘You’re a little overdressed.’

The barman begins to tear at his buttons but Mr Alpha places a hand on his arm. He signals to me to come forward. ‘She’ll do it.’

I step close to the little barman and smile shyly up into his face. ‘Are you sure you’re up for this?’

He looks at me wildly. ‘You think? Lady, this is all my birthdays rolled into one.’

And I notice that he too is erect. So slowly, carefully, I take off his clothes. He sighs and closes his eyes long before I’ve finished.

I feel a little shaky under Mr Alpha’s stern gaze, but he looks on in silence. When the barman is naked I move my hands slowly over his soft, fair body.

He’s shorter than Mr Alpha and less well endowed. All the same his erection’s pretty impressive and very responsive. As my fingers stray into the soft, golden curls nestling around his root he shudders, lips parted, showing pretty white teeth.

His cock leaps and twitches at my unfamiliar touch.

‘Easy. If he comes too soon you’ll spoil the fun.’ Mr Alpha’s deep growl rumbles between us and makes us both jump. Guiltily I snatch my hand away.

The barman opens wide, lustful eyes and takes a long, shaky breath. ‘Wow.’

I smile. A film of sweat on his forehead is matting some of the blond streaks into little damp curls. He looks like some hungry, grown-up cherub – good enough to eat.

Mr Alpha eyes us both with interest. ‘Ready?’

‘You bet.’ The barman is eyeing me like I’m his next meal and he hasn’t eaten for a while.

Mr Alpha’s eyes narrow. ‘Aren’t we forgetting something?’

The barman looks instantly terrified. ‘What?’

Mr Alpha holds up two foil packets. ‘These.’

The barman automatically reaches for one but Mr Alpha holds them higher, out of his reach. ‘Uh-uh. She’ll put them on.’

He gets behind me and puts his hands on my shoulders, forcing me to my knees.

This is beyond exciting. I can scarcely breathe. The orgasm I was denied earlier is pounding against my sex now, demanding release. If something doesn’t happen soon I’ll explode.

I reach up for the packet but Mr Alpha captures my wrists and pulls my arms firmly behind me. ‘Not so fast. Show our guest some respect. You’ll put it on with your mouth. Lick him first.’

The barman’s cock bucks as I lean forward. He smells nice – very clean, like he’s just washed. I lick nervously at the broad silky head. Mr Alpha’s own erection juts imperiously into my neck. His grip on my arms is like iron, and I can feel the heat from his powerful thighs at either side of me.

I know what he wants me to do – wet the barman’s erection all over so the condom will be just that little bit more sensitive once it’s in place, but I’ve never done it like this or to another man.

Wickedness takes on a whole new dimension.

At last his tool is thoroughly wet and by some miracle of self-control the barman has managed not to come. Now for the condom. Mr Alpha places it in my mouth and I ease it on with my lips and my tongue, nipping and tugging at the end to fix it in place while the barman groans.

‘Now me.’ Mr Alpha releases my arms and the barman steps behind to take his place. Mr Alpha towers before me and his erection is so big now I wonder if I shall manage this, but his wonderful taste and the feel of his ridged skin propel me to new heights of skill. At last I lean back, pleased with myself.

He has watched me throughout, a deep, burning gleam in his eyes his only reaction to what I know must be a pretty intense experience.

The two men loom over me, looking deep into each other’s eyes. They seem to communicate on a different level now.

At Mr Alpha’s slight nod the barman hoists me under the arms and holds me up, my toes just touching the floor. He’s stronger than he looks. He holds me suspended in mid-air while Mr Alpha slowly removes the butt plug.

As it slides out I give a deep sigh and nearly come again. A stern look from Mr Alpha prevents me. I’d almost forgotten it was there and now I feel empty, open, abandoned.

At that moment he gives the barman another nod and I feel the head of the barman’s sheathed erection prod gently at my opening, filling the gap, and then without warning he surges up inside me.

I cry out, startled at the suddenness of it, and then Mr Alpha takes a step forward, his eyes burning into mine, and he enters me from the front.

Oh, yes …

They ease in fully and wait a second, eyeing each other over my shoulder like gymnasts poised for some intricate move, and then they start to thrust …

It’s glorious. I’ve never in all my life felt so filled, so used, so hot. I come in minutes, the spasms rocketing through me, tipping the barman over the edge, and he comes with a shriek.

Mr Alpha is taking his time. He can stave off pleasure for hours. Now he’s smiling and slowly withdraws, easing me onto my knees. He slaps the barman on the back. ‘Thanks. You were terrific. I’ll take over now. We’ll settle up later.’

The barman dresses quickly and leaves, giving me a fond little half wave as he closes the door.

* * *

Now we are alone. Mr Alpha circles around me, his gaze stern. ‘Did you enjoy that?’

I eye him playfully. ‘Did you?’

His eyes darken. ‘Mind your manners. Lean over the bed.’

I double up over the edge of the bed, my legs splayed wide, my head on the mattress and my ass high in the air. I’m all glowing now and he spanks me again, really hard this time. It’s wildly arousing. At last I feel his hands smoothing over my punished, burning cheeks with long, loving sweeps, easing his fingers into my passages, driving me to distraction.

‘You’re so beautiful. I’ve never seen anything so infuriating as you touching that blond. If I ever see you do that again I’ll –’

He breaks off as he plunges into me from behind, his erection now so big and so hot I feel I’ve been invaded by a volcano. He pounds into me time and again, his thrusts long, hot and savage.

‘You’ll what?’ I grin between gasps.

I almost feel his wave of fury as his climax begins to swell his cock even bigger. ‘I’ll fuck you rigid, like this.’

With a great shout he comes inside me. We collapse together on the bed, laughing, ecstatic and spent.

* * *

Tomorrow we’ll be on our way home and all this will be just a memory. While he drives I’ll gaze adoringly at his profile. From time to time he’ll touch my hand or stroke my thigh.

We lead busy, happy lives, full of family, full of love. We get rarely get the chance to be completely on our own. Sometimes we like to play wicked, grown-up games.

I work hard too. He knows me well. And he knows that once in a while, to keep things spicy, I need something just that little bit extra.