Thanks for the patience fellow amorous adventurists! I know the last chapter was very brief without anything adequate enough to get you hot and bothered. Rest assured, it was necessary and now you’re starting to understand just what this story is about. I’ll try to keep the chapters from now on at a decent length to tide you over for an unexpected leave of absence. Now prepare yourself, this chapter has all the hot, kinky, intimate thrills you’ve been deprived of. Don’t get frustrated if you can’t understand Russian, it’s not necessary to understand that Gedeon is a pretty sick fuck. Enjoy!
Chapter 4: “It’s true, I crave you…”
Spending every Friday night in the same booth entertaining the same hairy Russian who just couldn’t seem to keep his hands to himself was a tedious task that Vixen wasn’t sure she could repeat for very long without breaking a few fingers. Once again Gedeon slid his leathery, calloused hands beneath the table to seek out the laced fabric covering her sex. He repeated this action countless times before she politely grabbed his hand and returned it to the safe region of her lower back that she preferred if she allowed him to touch her. This did not faze him as he just pulled her closer into his lap as he whispered hot nothings into her ear in Russian. Vixen wished she couldn’t understand the vulgar erotic fantasies sputtered from his foul mouth but her fluency in dozens of languages allowed her to follow every dirty utterance.
As Gedeon slurred out his desire to sheath his “sword” inside her in his thick accent, a familiar essence entered the room, making Vixen jump to life in the Russian’s lap and giving the illusion that the rich man’s perverse words had excited her. Gedeon grumbled low in approval and continued his verbal foreplay in fervor into her ear, but Vixen’s attention was on Dane as he strutted to the bar and ordered a drink from Melanie, the bartender. He hadn’t noticed her with Gedeon yet and she hoped to keep it that way.
Vixen’s attention shifted once again as Gedeon once again –for Christ’s sake!- slipped his hand between her legs. This kind of contact was not permitted in the club and certainly not between employees and clients. Only the performers were allowed to stimulate each other in the presence of clients for the erotic visual. She explained this to him and he growled and spat curses in frustration. “Then you touch her while I watch,” he instructed just as Roxie strolled past the table. The girl wore a fiery red bra and skirt with thigh-high black boots. Her hair was a wild mess of short, choppy layers that fell just past her jaw line. “You, girl,” Roxie paused and gave him a questioning glance. “Come here and I will pay you much.” Vixen gave her a pleading look and held out a hand. Roxie eyed her open palm and squinted suspiciously.
“He pays exceptionally well, I promise,” said Vixen. A mischievous smirk grew on Roxie’s face and she outstretched her hand to slide her fingers on her open palm once –a visual gesture of consent for the cameras- and take her hand to enter the booth. Gedeon grunted his approval.
Vixen straddled the girl and looked to the Russian who fixed his gaze on the two with anticipation. “Show me what you’ll do to me, Laskovaya moya,” he ordered. She turned back to the girl between her legs and placed the girl’s hands on her lower back in the same fashion she permitted Gedeon. Roxie picked up quickly and moved her hands to grasp the soft flesh of her ass. Vixen welcomed the groping and slid her hands behind the dancer’s neck to pull their mouths together in a hot kiss. As the women furrowed deeper into the heavy passion of their kiss, Gedeon began to stir in his black Armani suit. He groped his manhood from the outside of his pants and mumbled foreign phrases to himself. “Touch her pizda, devushka,” he commanded in a throaty voice.
Roxie halted in confusion, “Which one is he talking to?”
“You,” explained Vixen. She guided Roxie’s hand to the space between her legs, inclining her to touch. The girl continued without question and slipped her fingers beneath the lace to insert a dainty finger within the assassin’s tight hole. As usual, Vixen couldn’t feel the pleasure from the act but put on a good show for her client, panting and moaning and gyrating her hips in a mocked display of pleasure she picked up from observing her co-workers. Gedeon couldn’t tell the difference in the throes of his passion as he did his best to discreetly fondle himself beneath the shield of the booth table.
Vixen falsified shouts of pleasure traveled through the lounge and reached the ears of the detective who sat at the bar drinking a scotch on ice. Dane recognized her voice but was confused to hear it sound so different from her cries of ecstasy from their moment on stage. She’s so faking it, he thought. His eyes searched for her around the club and finally found her straddling a blonde female in a dark booth in the farthest corner of the lounge with a certain gray-haired Russian watching in a transfixed stupor as his hands worked in a steady pace beneath the table. Dane couldn’t help but feel both disgusted by the mafia lord and amused by Vixen’s mockery of ecstatic euphoria. He tried not to choke on his drink as he chuckled at the scene.
Across the room, Vixen heard his low outburst of amusement and sobered up just as Markovski climaxed violently. He sat there in his own cum for a few short moments as the two girls began to exit the booth. Vixen paused to give the man a light peck on the cheek before starting away. “Zhdat, Laskovaya moya,” he panted heavily, “five hundred thousand for each of you.” Roxie perked up and grinned widely.
“Thanks, dude,” she said airily and started off backstage. Vixen blew him a kiss and turned away, her smile fading quickly into a grimace as she too started backstage. Her eyes met with Dane’s for a brief moment before she lowered her gaze and sauntered out of sight.
Once Gedeon had found his wits, he reached beside him to activate the tablet to pay the women their due amount. He glanced up and saw the familiar young man from last week who made his woman cry out in a way unheard of before. Pure jealousy seeped into his murderous stare as he watched the man follow Vixen with his eyes until she left the room. Gedeon finished paying the girls and cleaned himself with the sanitary napkins provided in the table before calling a waitress over to order the man a drink and beckon him to his table. Within minutes, Dane was sitting at the booth, fresh scotch in hand waiting to hear the reason behind his summoning.
“You find my kotenka much attractive, yes?” said the Russian as he sipped on his preferred vodka.
“She’s interesting, but I’m not looking to take her from you,” Dane lied. Gedeon was not fooled.
“You will not have her, or will snap legs off like twig and sell to dog food company to feed to puppies. Vy menyA panimAyete?” asked the Russian.
“Uh, yeah, man,” agreed Dane. With a silent dismissal, Gedeon turned his attention to the redhead onstage dressed in variations of the British flag on skimpy clothing who spun effortlessly on a pole center stage. Dane downed his drink and exited the club, pausing to give Shawna, the voluptuous black woman who stood guard at the door, a quick wink. She giggled playfully and shooed him out.
Once out in the open street, Dane picked a direction and started walking. After an approximate two blocks, the light sound of clicking footsteps aside from his own brought him to a halt to address his follower. “You know it’s a lot less suspicious if you walk with me instead of fifty feet behind me. It’s much more social,” he said. Vixen eyed him warily and walked forward as he turned to face her. Steady calm was predominant of her face but the slight furrowing of her brow showed the perplex confusion lurking beneath the surface.
“How did you hear me, no one ever does,” she asked. Dane chuckled.
“If you’re implying that you do this often I’ll try not to feel so special next time.” Vixen ignored his poke at humor.
“What are you?” she asked intensely. Dane raised an eyebrow. “For fuck’s sake, stop doing that!” she yelled with agitation.
“Doing what?” he chuckled, avoiding the question. She sighed impatiently.
“That eyebrow thing you do,” she explained, “it’s driving me fucking insane.”
“We only met once prior to this,” said Dane.
“Yeah, well that doesn’t mean I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it,” her voice fell lower, “To be honest, I can’t stop thinking about you at all. What did you do to me?”
“I didn’t do anything to you. I feel I should be asking you the same thing,” he squinted at her curiously, “Vixen, I’ve dreamt about you every single night since we met. I thought I would lose it if I didn’t see you again.” Vixen grew silent and contemplated the situation at hand. Interaction with him could be dangerous. Being anywhere near him was a distraction that she could afford to be immersed in and taking that risk was something she didn’t want to take, but not being near him seemed to be just as distracting. If she wanted to focus on her work ever again she would have to sate her hunger for his touch for the sake of her job. This reasoning was spotty, but it was enough to bring her to her resolve.
“I need you to do it again,” she said firmly. “Touch me again so I can stop thinking about you.” He raised a brow and waited for her to back out and say “just kidding.” When she didn’t, he sighed and looked around to disguise his own thought process. She was serious, and if helping her meant he could hear those honest moans of pleasure again, who was he to refuse? Dane looked into her piercing green eyes filled with determination to find release that only he could provide. He stepped toward her until they stood chest to chest, him towering her at a full six feet and three inches tall. At only five foot six inches, she had to incline her head back to stare into his hazel eyes.
How could she be so small but so fiery like an angry kitten? He figured it wouldn’t take simply staring at each other for her to loosen up so he shrugged his shoulders and swiftly hoisted her on his shoulder, heading along the street in the same direction as before.
“Where the fuck are you taking me, asshole?!” she screamed.
“In case you don’t remember, my name is Dane, and we’re going to my place. Unless fucking in the rain is something you’re into, but it’s cold as shit out here so that option is out.”
“Who said we’re going to fuck?” she asked in a muffled voice. Her breasts -as perky as they were- still managed to cut off any easy communication. Before he could answer, heavy rain started to pour and soaked the two within minutes. Despite her protests, Dane never quickened his pace or let her down. Vixen vowed to slit his throat once this was over and she could go a minute without thinking about him. “You’d better hope you do well or I’ll have to kill you, though I’m debating whether or not I should do it anyway after this humiliating show of primal sexism.”
“We can get as primal as you’d like but I’m not sure if I want to take on a lover with the mating instincts of a praying mantis.” At this she shrieked in frustration and punched at his legs. “Calm yourself, kitten, we’re here.”
The downpour ceased and she heard the subtle ding and the sound of elevator doors opening. Dane stepped inside and made room for another gentleman. The man looked at Dane awkwardly as they ascended to their desired floors and tried not to stare at the round butt of the female hoisted on his shoulder. “Hey, man,” nodded Dane, but the gentleman stayed quiet. All the while Vixen forced herself not to bite him until they reached his apartment. The doors opened and Dane stepped out onto his floor, leaving the gentleman behind to see Vixen grumbling profanities that Dane ignored.
Once inside the apartment, Dane set the female down on her feet and stood back to look at the dripping display. Her gaze was murderous but the drowned effect made her look adorable. He did little to hide his amusement and stepped past her toward the bedroom to fetch a towel. Removing the soaked pea coat, Vixen shivered and tried to use her hands to keep herself warm.
“That’s not going to help much,” said Dane from the doorway of the bedroom, towel in hand but arms crossed. “You have to take off the wet clothes.”
“I know how it works, asshole,” she snapped. A muscle in his jaw ticked and his expression grew serious. “My name is Dane, and if I’m not mistaken I’m here to do you a favor, starting with keeping you warm.” Her eyes found their way to the floor.
“Sorry,” she apologized, “I don’t like being man-handled.” Vixen walked over to him.
“Or no one’s done it right,” he murmured. Dane wrapped the towel around her and allowed her to dry herself. She absent-mindedly paced around the room as she used the towel to dry her short, black tresses.
“You live alone?” she asked.
“As far as I know,” he mused.
“Are you always this comedic or do I get a break from your humor?”
“Hey, I live alone. Who else is going to entertain me?” Vixen paused to look at him and raised an eyebrow. He flashed that devilish half-smirk.
“You do it, too,” he chuckled. Her face grew stoic once more and she continued observing the room.
“So are we going to do this?” Vixen was growing impatient with anticipation. Knots coiled in her stomach and she seized a rosy lip with sharp incisors. She hadn’t noticed him cross the room and jumped at the feel of his warm fingers brush against her lower back as he started to untie the drenched black corset. Shivers ran through her spine and made her head spin as his breath tickled her neck. Uncontrollable tremors seized her as she fought to control her physical desire.
“Stop fighting it,” he commanded low and calm. “If it feels good then let it feel good. You’re so cautious to keep your guards up that you find pleasure to be a threat.” His voice was like thick velvet in her ear that warmed and melted her into his massaging hands. At last, the corset was freed, her breasts exposed and nipples erect with pride. He didn’t touch them but she wished he would.
Dane’s hands roamed the flat plains of her midriff and the curvaceous hips that could rival any model. He gently pulled her hips back into his own and she complied willingly. Those strong, inviting hands began to ascend to her ribcage and eventually her breasts which seemed to grow in size to fit perfectly in his palms. Vixen sighed heavily and even audibly moaned as her body relaxed completely and her back arched to his touch. Rolling her taut nipples between his fingers, he began to kiss her neck and shoulders, nipping every now and then with his teeth, which sent another wave of chills through her but she melted down even further into physical bliss every time. At this point, Vixen’s eyes had rolled into her skull and she closed her eyes as she let out low breathy moans of approval.
So this is what it feels like to feel, thought Vixen, too immersed in the physical contact to form true sentences. Instead of fidgeting with her hands by her side, Vixen allowed her hands to roam where they pleased and they ended up above her head, reaching back to entwine her fingers in the lush dark brown hair on Dane’s head. Their lips locked in a lazy kiss that grew more feverous as the minutes passed. Dane spun Vixen round to face him as his hands rested on the small of her back and delved lower until he had a handful of smooth flesh in each palm, all the while never breaking their endless kiss. With arms locked around his neck, Vixen braced herself to be picked up by the strong arms of her new lover. She hooked her legs around his waist and the two found their way to the bedroom.
Dane sat himself on the edge of the bed with Vixen in his lap as she began to grind her hips against him like she did on that first night. A low growl escaped his lips and he stood quickly to drop her on the bed. Eyes wide and gasping in shock, Vixen struggled to understand what she did wrong. “Tonight is about your pleasure, not mine. Let me do the work,” he growled.
“I wasn’t doing that for you,” she muttered between breaths.
“Ah, then you’re learning,” he removed his shirt and searched through his pockets for his handcuffs. As much as Vixen wanted to ogle the godly sight before her, she dragged her attention away from his muscular frame and fixed her eyes on the modern manacles in Dane’s hand.
“And…. what the fuck?” Dane grabbed her right wrist and clamped on end around it.
“To make sure you don’t,” he looped the other side through the bedpost before snaring her left wrist in the cuff, “try that again.”
“That’s not fair! That wasn’t for you!” she protested.
“Doesn’t matter. I prefer you this way,” he grinned.
“I thought this was about what I want,” Vixen grimaced.
“Oh, it is. You just don’t know that you want it yet.” At that he continued to kiss her while removing her garter and thigh-high stockings. When it became difficult to do without breaking the kiss, she effortlessly raised each leg one at a time above her head to allow better access. “Flexible, are we?” he jested.
“It comes in handy,” she replied. Dane quirked a brow but continued in his task. Just as he hooked his fingers around the black lace of her underwear, Vixen’s heart skipped a beat. Their eyes locked for a moment and in one swift movement, the lace was dangling from Dane’s hooked index finger. A gasp escaped from her lips and Vixen tugged at her restraints, desperate to cover herself once more.
Dane waited patiently for her to calm herself again, but once she started to hyperventilate, he grew concerned. “Shh… Vixen, calm down, it’s just me.” His efforts didn’t seem to be helping because she clenched her eyes tight and shook her head violently, lost in whatever horrid daydream that had haunted her for who knew how long. Without missing a beat, Dane fished the key from his pocket and unlocked the handcuffs, tossing them across the room where they slid until hitting the wall. Lying beside her, he held her in his arms until the nightmare ended and she grew still again.
Vixen opened her eyes to find herself rested on his chest, completely naked with him still in denim jeans. He was staring cautiously at her, concern furrowed deep in his dark eyebrows.
“Vixen,” he started, “what happened to you?” No one had ever asked her that before, but then again, no one had ever seen her let down her defenses to see the pain and fear that hid so well inside. She stayed quiet, resistant to give any explanation for her panic attack. An answer was obviously out of reach. “If you don’t want to do this-“
“No, I do,” interjected Vixen, “I just freak out when it comes to being tied down and exposed like that. I can’t do both at the same time, I just can’t.”
“I’ll remember that,” Dane murmured, “You’re sure about this?” She nodded. He held her gaze and placed both hands on either side of her face to brush his lips against hers. “Lie back,” he instructed gently. Vixen did so and forced herself into a steady breathing pace. When Dane saw her visibly relax, he formed a trail of light kisses down her neck, chest, and hips to hover just above her sex. The space was bare save a small patch of dark pubic hair that rested just above her lips. After a steady exhale, Vixen spread her legs to expose her womanhood. Dane did not rush into pleasuring her, but instead nuzzled her inner thigh and kissed his way lower into the crevice. He nipped once at her tender lips, causing her to giggle softly which in turn melted his heart in a way never done before. It was probably the first time she had laughed in ages and the elation of that thought urged him on.
Dane gave one slow, broad lick and relished in the low but urgent moan that erupted from Vixen. An arch formed in her back as she sighed his name. “Dane…” she breathed. Hearing her say his name for the first time in real life, especially in the throes of ecstasy, made him grow incredibly hard in his jeans. The pressure building up strained against its restraints but Dane did his best to continue pleasuring the female who needed his attention. This is about her, Dane, not you, he thought to himself.
Beneath his wandering tongue, Vixen panted and her hips undulated, riding Dane’s face in a slow grind as he expertly worked her to climax. With every flick of his tongue she let out short, shrill moans, but with every broad lick that delved deep inside her, low, intense groans vibrated through her. Each time he groaned himself in response to her animalistic bouts of ecstasy, she chimed again, and thus the song continued.
Vixen never knew that this blissful euphoria was even possible for her. Stumbling through the years with a severe case of physical anhedonia seemed to be a never-ending journey, but now, as this breathtakingly sexy man pleasured her in ways she did others, that lonely road was finally coming to an end.
The climax inside her was building, nearing its full intensity. Her hands sought the lush haven of his hair again as she held him gently but firmly in place. His hands sought the firmness of her breasts to roll her hard nipples under his thumbs. In tiny circles, Dane worked his tongue rapidly over her small but newly sensitive clitoris. Heavy, labored breaths shook her overwhelmed frame until they turned into long, passionate cries of climactic ecstasy. The sweetness of her juices surprised Dane and he lapped at them hungrily until they were both sated. Vixen closed her heavy lids and loosened her grip on Dane’s hair as he rested his head on her inner thigh.
Dane woke a few hours later to find her still in the same position as he left her; legs spread, arms laid above her head, and raven hair in a wild mess from being soaked and ravaged from foreplay. A soft grin spread across his face as he took on her full beauty for the first time. Her face was not the same tense, watchful grimace that he had come to know her by, but a much softer, innocent display of peace that she couldn’t even get from a typical night’s sleep. Vixen’s rosy lips were fuller and even turned their way up into the slightest smile. Her dark lashes were long and brushed her high cheekbones that even donned faded freckles on her cinnamon skin. She almost glowed with serenity and it took all he had for Dane not to rouse her from her sleep to make love to her.
Instead, he deftly pulled back the sheets and slipped her beneath them, permitting himself to only sleep on top of the blankets. He didn’t want to tempt himself with the smoothness of her skin finding its way into his seeking hands. She would sleep peacefully tonight.