Black: Part 1 (2 page)

I spank her, again. Harder this time. A red palm print surfaces on her ass cheek. She squeals in delight and writhes her hips back and forth. Another girl with
daddy issues
. How original. Well, if she wants someone to treat her like a child and tell her what to do, then it might as well be me.

“You
have
been a bad little girl, haven’t you?”

Her head bobs up and down, quickly.

“Yes, so bad.”

“And what do you think we should do about that?”

“I don’t know, Daddy. Punish me however you want.”

My fingers dig into her ass cheeks and I slam myself into her, again. She moans delightfully.

“Little girls who get in trouble have to pay the price,” I say, staring down at her ass.

“I’ll pay it—whatever it is!”

If she knew what I was intending to do, she might not be so quick to agree.

Slowly, I pull myself out of her. I grab my cock and swirl it in little circles around her entrance, once it’s completely out of her. She whimpers as my tip teases her swollen clit. Then I slide it higher, grazing past her soaked entrance to her tight, beautiful, ass.

“Naughty girls have to pay the price,” I say.

The muscles in her legs tense as I press my cock into her ass. The condom I’m wearing is so wet from her pussy that I don’t even need to use lube. Her fingers dig into the leather couch and she sucks in a sharp breath as my cock sinks fully inside of her.

I begin pumping myself into her ass, making sure I take it very slowly, at first. Her whines catch in her chest every time I press myself deeper inside of her. Her ass clenches my cock so tightly that I know she’s never been fucked like that before.

“This is what happens when you’re a bad girl,” I say.

“Punish me,” she barely manages to cry out.

I slap her ass, again, this time on the other side. Red handprints appear there, too. I slap it again, harder, enjoying her cries of pain mixed with pleasure.

Her ass is so tight that it doesn’t take long for me to feel that building sensation inside of me. After a minute or two, I begin pumping her harder and harder—not as hard as I was working her pussy, but enough that she probably won’t be walking straight when she leaves. My abs tighten more and more with every thrust I give her, until I’m nearly at the point of bursting.

She must be able to sense it, because she begins whimpering through the moans. She tries to wriggle her hips back and forth again, but I’m holding on to them too tightly to let her move.

I let out a gasp, and then I come. My back goes rigid as I slam her a few more times, each one weaker than the one before it. When the orgasm finishes, I can feel the weight of my cum pulling at the tip of the condom. I take it off and discard it in the trash next to the minibar.

The girl settles herself tenderly onto the couch. Maybe I had gone too hard on her, after all. No, she would have told me to stop if it were too much.

She watches me as I begin pulling on my clothes. I don’t really pay her much attention.

I’m done.

“Take all of the time you need, the room is yours until last call,” I say, matter-of-factly.

“You’re leaving?”

“We’re done here, right? I’ve got work to do.”

“You don’t have to just run off, I thought we were going to spend some time together.”

I give her a placating smile.

“We just did. We had fun, didn’t we?” She nods her head, uncertainly. “Good. Then that’s that.”

“Aren’t you going to ask me for my number?”

I give her a playful wince.

“Sorry, I’m not really into repeat performances, anymore. But you’re still welcome back at
Club Addiction
anytime.”

I pull up my zipper and give one more of my charming smiles before I turn and leave. For a moment, I’m not sure if the pained look on her face is from the rough sex or because she’s not used to guys walking out on her like that. But my concern is gone before I even make it through the door.

She got exactly what she wanted, didn’t she? She didn’t come with me looking for a quiet place so we could have a conversation and get to know each other. No, she tagged along because she wanted to make a memory, to have a good time, or maybe just to have something to brag to all of her friends about.

Well, she got what she wanted—fucked in the ass by a millionaire.

She can check that off her bucket list.

Club Addiction
is one of the hottest new clubs in all of New York City. It’s only been open a few months, but already it’s had more than its fair share of wealthy and famous clientele frequenting its dark lounges and private rooms. They come to my club for discretion and privacy—two things I never fail to deliver.

Club Addiction
is the place where you can lose yourself, even if only for a single night. You can forget who you are, where you come from, all of the things that trouble you. None of those things matter when you’re here. The only thing that matters is that you check your inhibitions at the door and plan on having a good time.

My private VIP rooms make it so that anyone can do whatever they want without fear of it ever getting out… for the right price.

Every night I make my rounds through the club. I make it a point to personally greet as many of the guests as possible—especially the high rollers. I never forget a face, and I can tell whether or not someone’s been to my club before, just by looking at them. Being so personable is time consuming, but it’s part of the job.

I have an image to maintain.

Making my way out through the club, I let the music overtake me. On weeknights, things are usually slow enough for me to have a little time to myself. That’s when I like to make new… friends… like the blonde from earlier this week. But on a Friday night, like tonight, the place will be packed.

My first round through the club happens before eight. This is when the guests are still sober enough to remember me. It’s not uncommon for a girl or two to slip me her number, especially if I’ve seen them here, before. It’s also not uncommon for their guys to get extra loud and macho when I’m around. My natural charm threatens them, even while it makes them want to be my best friend. That charm is a double-edged sword—it’s something I’ve had to get used to over the years.

My first round this Friday night is uneventful. It’s still too early for the VIPs—who require most of my attention—to be here, which allows me the opportunity to sneak back to my office to get some of the necessary administrative work done before the weekend really begins. It seems like there’s never a shortage of busy work which needs doing. It’s probably the single biggest reason I need to fuck some young thing’s brains out every time I leave work.

When I get to my desk, there are seven new messages waiting for me from my answering service. Most of them are junk, but two of them are from a girl I had recently been… seeing. I don’t give either of the messages much thought before deleting them. She’d been a sweet girl—and quite a freak in the sack—but I don’t do attachments. I’d made that clear to her from the beginning and don’t see the point in repeating myself.
 

Before long, I’m lost in the minutia of all the emails and paperwork that go along with being a business owner. Aside from the club, I have a few other business ventures that I handle from the same office. It seems there is always something going on that needs my attention. You might think that, the more successful and powerful you become, the less you have to worry about all of the little things. I’ve found that to be categorically false.
 

More money, more problems. Isn’t that how the saying goes?

I get so sucked into my work that I completely lose all track of time. I’m in the middle of composing an email to one of my political connections when a banging on the door startles me, shattering my focus.

I jerk my head up just in time to see the slender frame of Charlotte Stern as she comes barging into my office without even waiting for an invitation. There’s a serious look on her face that sends a nervous chill down my back.

Whatever this is, it can’t be good.

“Excuse you,” I say, giving Charlotte a hard look as she closes the distance from the door to my desk. There’s a determined purpose in each of her steps—she’s probably the most Type A woman I’ve ever met. No one else that works for me would have the balls to barge into my office, unannounced, like she just did.

She comes to a stop in front of my desk, placing her hands on her hips and leaning her weight to one side. The no-nonsense look on her face tells me that she’s upset about something, but I can’t help but notice the way the dress she’s wearing clings to her hips when she stands that way. I’ve always liked the way her body curves—and the fact that she knows exactly how to use those curves makes her all the more delicious.

“Is it true?” she says, accusation dripping from every word.

“Is
what
true?” I respond, keeping my voice cool and even.

I already know what she’s talking about. The response is intended to let her know that I’m not thrown off by her display of insubordination. Only one of us is the boss, here. And I’ll make damn well sure she acknowledges it.

She leans forward over the desk, glowering down at me. The dress is pulled even tighter around her curves as she does. The front of it strains open as she rounds her back, exposing a more than generous amount of her cleavage. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before. Charlotte enjoys using her sexuality to keep men off balance.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Calvin. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

I flash her one of my charming smiles.

“Yes, but what would be the fun in that? You’re sexy when you squirm…”

Her eyes glass over for just an instant before she recovers herself. I can almost picture exactly what was going through her mind, right then.

“I thought we agreed that you weren’t going to keep using the private room as your own brothel. You told me you were done taking girls back there.”

There it is. The reason she is so pissed off. I had known when I took the girl to my private room that it would get back to Charlotte. And I had known that she wouldn’t like it. The simple fact of the matter was that I didn’t care. This is my kingdom, and I’ll do what I want in it.

“I said no such thing.” The charming smile on my face spreads even wider, knowing full well just how much it will get to her. “Besides, what does it matter? You were the one that said we needed to keep things professional between us. And part of my job is to make sure that my guests are satisfied… in every way.”

The stony expression on Charlotte’s face is unmoving. I can all but imagine the frustration going through her head in that moment. But what can she do about it? She’d been the one that had said she didn’t think it was a good idea for us to continue the fun we’d been having. I was just respecting her wishes.

A few strands of black hair fall down into her face as she lets out a sharp breath. She scoops them behind her ear, managing to look even more annoyed by the slight inconvenience.

“It’s not smart for you to hook up with all of these girls at the club. It sends the wrong message.”

I want to ask about
who
might be getting the wrong message, but I don’t. I’m not a petty man and I’m not going to rub it in. But there
is
something that I do want, right now…

I slide out of my big, leather chair and make my way around the desk. Charlotte straightens and turns to face me as I draw close to her.

Really close.

The smell of her perfume is different. There’s a sharper scent to it, as though it’s fancier than the stuff she normally wears. It must be a recent change. Did she do that for me?

I close my eyes and duck my head closer to her, breathing her in, slowly and deeply. She doesn’t back away from me as I do, and when my blue eyes open, again, I can see her trembling. Desire lingers in her eyes. If she’s trying to hide it, she’s not doing a good job.
 

“Do you not want me taking those girls back to my private room for professional reasons? Or personal?”

There’s a long, tense hesitation before she responds.

“Professional.”

She stutters when she says it, making me wonder if her answer had changed after she’d started speaking.

“Of course. There’s no reason for it to be
personal
, since we agreed that we should keep our distance from each other…”

She swallows before bobbing her head in agreement. Knowing how hard she’s struggling to resist me only turns me on even more. My cock lurches in my slacks. If I were standing any closer to Charlotte she’d be able to feel it pressing into her. The businessman inside of me knows it’s smart to keep things professional with my employees, but right now I want nothing more than to slide my hand beneath her dress. I need to know just how wet I’m making her.

“There needs to be boundaries,” she manages, though it doesn’t sound even a little bit convincing.

“What kinds of boundaries?” I ask, innocently.

“We’ve been over this, already…”

I lean in a little closer, inhaling more of her new smell. She trembles, again, but she doesn’t pull away.

“Remind me,” I say, making sure the breath of each word washes over that delicate part of her neck, just below her ear.

Whatever defenses she’d had in place when she came marching into my office just moments earlier are now gone. She tips her head back, revealing her neck to me. It’s an almost subconscious sign of submission, as though she’s begging me to take her right then and there, to have my way with her, to fuck her the way I know she likes to be fucked. And that’s exactly what I
want
to do. But I don’t. I fight back the nearly overwhelming urge to bend her over my desk and take her from behind.

I let out another long, slow breath. My cock is fully erect, now, and there’s no way she can’t feel it against her leg.
 

“I’m waiting for an answer,” I say.

When she responds, her voice is distant. It’s as though her entire being is somewhere else, somewhere fantastical.