When I finally let go, I came hard, my ass clenching around his shaft in rhythmic pulsations. I vaguely remembered one of my fellow call girls bragging about anal orgasms, that her ass could come just like her pussy, and I remember thinking bullshit. But my ass was coming like hell, along with my pussy, and my clit, and my sore, aching nipples, all of it at once. I didn’t make a sound. There was no energy left for sound, except maybe a rasping outlet of breath.
As for W, he made a sound like the one he’d made earlier, another animal-trainer cue, only more intense. He held my shoulders as he came, then his hands crept up to my neck and gripped me there. It made me clench him harder, everywhere, all over. I moaned, choking. Don’t hurt me anymore. I can’t take anymore.
He was gone in a flash. His hands gone from my neck, his cock gone from my ass. I was afraid he’d deserted me completely, but then I felt his weight dip the bed beside me. A moment later, his fingers ruffled my hair, touching, teasing. I fought the urge to turn my body toward him for more contact. I didn’t want to need him. He was too rough, too cruel. I absolutely wasn’t going to see him again.
He rose a moment later and went into the bathroom. I heard water. Not a shower, a bathtub. I drowsed to the sound of the bubbling water until he touched one of my ankles. Snip, snip through the stockings. Him and his damned scissors. The gag came off next. I opened and closed my mouth, waggled my tongue. My chin was coated with drool.
“Let’s go take a bath,” he said. “You’re a fucking mess.”
I let him lead me into the bathroom, not sure if he intended to bathe me or drown me.
“My arms ache,” I said, my mouth still stiff and awkward. “Please unbind my wrists. I’m afraid to be in the water with my hands bound behind my back.” No response. “I won’t try to take off the blindfold, I promise. I don’t care what you look like.” Huge lie, but I really was scared.
I guess he heard enough fear in my voice—not the sexy kind of fear—to take pity on me. He cut off the zip ties but kept hold of one of my wrists. He guided me to the tub and helped me get in. Oh, God, it felt so warm, perfect temperature. He climbed in too, settling me in his lap. I leaned my head against his shoulder and thought I could fall asleep right here, cradled against his body with his muscles sliding under my skin. I was too tired to even care that I was blindfolded. My eyes closed behind the leather mask, and my body relaxed against his.
“Don’t fall asleep,” he said, and I perked up again. “We need to talk, remember?”
“Talk about what?”
He started washing me, using the Park Hyatt’s fragrant soap, and a soft washcloth to sponge the drool from my chin and neck. “About an exclusive arrangement,” he said.
“Why? Why do you want me to stop seeing other people?”
“So I can see you whenever I want. And because I want to fluid bond with you. Bareback.”
“I’m not allowed to do that.”
“Says who?”
“My boss.”
“When you’re with me, I’m your boss.”
I shook my head. “I can’t. I need to work at least four appointments a week.”
“For what? For money? I’m offering you money.” He named an amount that was four appointments worth of cash, plus extra. A lot of extra. It scared me. What would he demand for that kind of money?
“The thing is, I have a life,” I said. “A home. A boyfriend. I can’t be at your beck and call, no matter how much you pay me.”
“I don’t want you at my beck and call. I’d be reasonable. I just don’t want you seeing other guys.”
“Why?”
He ran a hand down between my breasts. “Because I don’t like to share.” He laughed softly. “Your fucking boyfriend. He puts up with your job?”
I wasn’t going to talk to him about Simon, or my personal life. It was bad enough he was asking me to be exclusive. “I can’t bareback with you, ever,” I said.
“Okay, but you can stop seeing other people.”
“Did you talk to Henry about this?”
“Yes, I’ve talked to Henry. He said it was up to you.”
W was washing me so gently. I didn’t think he was even washing me anymore, just stroking me. Don’t do this, Chere. Don’t be swayed by how good he makes you feel. By this body, his scent, the rumble of his voice…
“The thing is, you’re not my only regular client,” I said. “Those johns will move on when I’m not available. When you’re finished with me, when you’re finished doing…whatever this is we’re doing together, I’ll need to build up my client list all over again.”