Knights and Kink Romance Boxed Set (13 page)

“Be still,” Mistress Violet whispered through
clenched teeth. “You will grow to appreciate what I’m doing,
believe me.”

And after another moment or two, I did.

Mistress Violet’s slow, deliberate stroking on my
clit was building up a kind of heat I’d never experienced before.
Instead of my usual tendency to want rapid, frantic stroking on my
clit that would take me over the edge as quickly and efficiently as
possible, I grew to enjoy the slow, steady buildup of heat that
started on my clit and, after several minutes, began to radiate out
across my vulva and into my perineum. I rocked gently back and
forth on my heels, going with the flow and savoring the deepening
heat between my legs as it happened, without necessarily needing to
come right away.

“Ahhhhhhhhhh,” I groaned as my body relaxed into the
hot vibrations even more. “That’s
sooooo
good.”

Mistress Violet smiled at me in the mirror. I could
tell she enjoyed seeing my dewy, aroused expression in the glass.
“And now it will get even better.” She turned up the setting on the
Rabbit another notch, and started moving it slowly up and down in
my sheath with one hand, keeping her own groin leaning against it
to maintain her own pleasure simultaneously. With the other hand
she began stroking my perineum, which had grown hot and slick with
my juices. I started circling my hips in time to her strokes, which
made the center of heat that had built up in my groin after such a
long time go white-hot—but still not quite hot enough to melt me
into orgasm. Meanwhile, I could see Senator Grayle in the mirror as
he stroked his member in perfect synchronization with what Mistress
Violet and I were doing. Together, we were like a classical string
trio, playing chamber music in a slow, steady crescendo.

Just as I was getting used to the new intensity of
sensation in my perineum, Mistress Violet took things up another
notch. While still keeping things going with the Rabbit, she moved
her free hand from my perineum to my back passage, running the tip
of her finger around the edges of my puckered hole. “You have never
been penetrated here, have you?” she said as she used my freely
flowing juices to lube up my tiny, forbidden rosette.

“Nuh-noooo,” I groaned, feeling the heat in my groin
and belly get even hotter. I could almost see my orgasm
approaching, but it was still a long way off. Mistress Violet kept
up her exploration of the entrance to my back passage, but she
didn’t enter it—yet. She just circled its outline lightly with one
finger, making it slick with my flowing nectar. The tight ball of
heat that had been building in my vag spread lower, and I felt my
forbidden passage start to open in response. Mistress Violet fit in
one finger, then two, then three, until I had two full-force fucks
going on at once. The Chinese balls inside my sheath pressed upward
and back against my forbidden passage and my perineum, sending
forth mind-numbing sensations I’d never known were possible. The
pressure built and built between my vag and my back passage until
both orifices exploded. The orgasm was so intense I practically
went into convulsions. I thrashed and kicked, and would have fallen
over if Mistress Violet hadn’t anticipated my reaction and held me
steady with her strong, expert hands.

As I leaned against the wall, struggling to catch my
breath, Mistress Violet turned her attention to Senator Grayle.
“You may relieve yourself now, Slave,” she said.

“Thank you, Mistress.” I watched in the wall mirror
as Senator Grayle instantly brought himself to a massive orgasm.
His seed spilled all over the floor in front of him. When he was
finished, though, instead of collapsing in exhaustion, he stood at
attention and awaited Mistress Violet’s next command.

Mistress Violet helped me to recline on a nearby
velvet settee and handed me a warm washcloth to clean myself up.
“Take a moment to rest, dear,” she said. “Would you like a glass of
ice water?”

“Yes, please,” I replied as I stretched out on the
divan. But before she could bring it to me, I’d already fallen
asleep.

****

I woke up in a small bedroom of sorts. I was tucked
inside a twin bed lined with silk sheets and a satin comforter. I
was wearing my black silk robe again, but someone had removed my
face mask. I checked the robe’s inside pocket for my cell phone and
found it there. But to my dismay, I saw that something—or
someone
—had deleted all the pictures I’d taken of Senator
Grayle from the phone’s memory.

I got a sinking feeling in my stomach as I realized
that I had failed my first assignment as an undercover sex spy. I’d
put my own pleasure ahead of completing my mission. What would
Rodney Doyle think of me now?

Even so, I had mixed feelings as I tucked my camera
phone back into my purse. Although now nobody would know it but me,
I’d just shared a very intimate experience with my boss of the past
two years. And even if he was a corrupt, self-serving politician
who was in trouble with the law, he was still my boss, and to a
certain degree I still respected him greatly. Hadn’t my attempted
betrayal of Senator Grayle turned me into a terrible hypocrite—as
big a hypocrite as he was, in fact?

After much thought, I had to just shrug it all off.
After all, everyone who worked in Washington was a hypocrite to
some degree. It sort of went with the territory. I was just doing
what everyone else in Washington did every day. The only difference
was, I was being an anonymous hypocrite in a sex club instead of a
public-official hypocrite saying one thing on C-SPAN and doing
another in a smoke-filled back room chock full of money-grubbing
lobbyists.

I found my clothes and purse stashed in a cubby just
below the bed. The small bedroom had an adjacent bathroom and
stand-up shower, which I used to clean up. The shower was equipped
with luxury-grade toiletries, a hair dryer, hairbrush, even a
makeup kit. After a long, hot shower and a few minutes of fussing
in front of the mirror, I was back to my nondescript, PR-staffer
self. I gathered up my purse and overcoat and made my way out into
the hallway.

Daisy was there to meet me. “Did you enjoy your stay
with us today, Hyacinth?”

Hyacinth?
I thought, still groggy from my
nap.
Who is Hyacinth?
Then I remembered it was me. “Oh, yes,
it was just—lovely,” I stammered. Which was true. But I was still
having a hard time getting my mind around everything that had
happened there that morning.

Daisy smiled. “Good. Please do come back and see us
again soon, Hyacinth. You’re welcome here anytime. And your account
has already been paid in full, so you’re free to go whenever you
like.”

My account had been paid in full?
By Rodney
Doyle, I supposed. I wondered what the price tag for a private
session with a dominatrix would be. If the House of Flowers counted
senators and media moguls among its clients, it had to be steep.
“Thank you for all your help, Daisy,” I said. “I appreciate it very
much.”

My well-satisfied female parts appreciated it even
more.

“I’m so glad,” Daisy said, patting me on the
shoulder. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

I fished the business card the cabbie had given me
that morning and handed it to Daisy. “Could you call a cab for me?
I need a ride back to my office on the Hill.”

“I can do better than that,” Daisy said. “The House
of Flowers has a private limousine at its disposal. I’ll have it
pull around out front for you right away.” She handed me back the
cabbie’s business card. “Keep this for another time,” she said with
a knowing smile. “You never know when you might need it.”

Daisy guided me through the sex club’s twisting
hallways and staircases until I was back out on the street. The
limousine’s passenger door opened itself on hydraulic hinges. I
stepped inside, and before I could even settle back into the
luxurious leather seats, I was already being whisked back to the
Hill.

Before we were even halfway there, however, I had
the distinct feeling that we were being followed. I turned around
and glanced out the limo’s tinted rear window, and saw
another
limo just behind us. A white stretch Cadillac. The
Cadillac’s windshield was tinted too, so I couldn’t make out what
the driver looked like, and of course there was no way of knowing
who the limo’s passenger was, if there was one at all. But the fact
we were being followed was obvious. The white stretch matched every
turn and lane change my driver made, and tailed us all the way back
to the Hill, only breaking off its pursuit moments before my driver
dropped me in front of Senator Grayle’s office building. The driver
of the other limo seemed to know exactly what my destination was.
And the only other person besides Daisy who knew where I’d been and
where I was going was Rodney Doyle.

Rodney Doyle was having me followed
.

The bastard. I’d have to give him a piece of my
mind.

But first things first. I had work to do.

Chapter
10

I made it back to the office just in time for lunch.
Rebecca was seated at her secretarial desk, rummaging through a
stack of pink “While You Were Out” phone message slips when I came
in.

“Oh, Jasmine!” she exclaimed, startled, when I
walked in. “I’m so glad you’re back. We’ve had some interesting
calls come in this morning.”

I slumped down in one of the overstuffed leather
reception chairs. “I’m sure,” I said. I could only imagine what the
calls might have been about. Maybe in addition to being tailed by
Rodney Doyle’s people, I’d somehow been followed by someone in the
press on my trip to the House of Flowers and the calls were from
people who wanted to blackmail me. That would be pretty typical
Washington election-season stuff.

Rebecca took the top message slip off the stack and
handed it to me. “I think you should respond to this one first,”
she said. “It sounds urgent.”

I looked at the slip. There was a phone number I
didn’t recognize for a return call but no name and no message.
“What exactly is urgent? There’s no name.”

Rebecca’s lips pursed. “I tried to get whoever it
was to leave a name and message, but he—I think it was a
he
,
anyway—refused. The voice on the line sounded odd, sort of
distorted.”

“Distorted eh? Hmm,” I said. “Could be a tapped
line. I’ll return this one on Senator Grayle’s line, then. “What
about the other calls?”

Rebecca handed me the rest of the slips in a
wrinkled wad. “The usual press calls, a couple constituents calling
to say how upset they are about Senator Grayle’s sex behavior and
how they hope he loses the election.” Rebecca’s expression saddened
a bit as she handed those messages over. “And one last call from
Rodney Doyle at the
Beltway Times.
He wanted you to call him
back as soon as you got back to the office.” Rebecca paused. “He
seemed to know where you were, too. Which I thought was odd, since
I tried to tell him you were tied up on another line, not out on an
errand. Do you know how he could have known where you were?”

I bit my lip. “I dunno—lucky guess, maybe?” I wasn’t
sure how much longer I could keep things with Doyle and the
Beltway Times
under wraps. It looked like Rebecca was
getting caught up in my clandestine affairs whether I liked it or
not.

I tucked the phone messages in my pocket and decided
to change the subject. “What’s for lunch? I’m starving.”

Rebecca stood up and stretched. “I don’t know. I’ve
been too busy this morning to even think about food. In addition to
all the calls coming in, I’ve been having to put all of Senator
Grayle’s financial records in order for the divorce lawyers. Things
are getting pretty nasty with Mrs. Grayle. It looks like she wants
to take her husband for everything he’s worth and then some.”

“Well, you can hardly blame her,” I said. “Honestly,
I always found it hard to understand why she stuck by him as long
as she did.”

Rebecca lifted a stack of sorted files from the
floor and placed them in a banker’s box. “I think she enjoyed being
a political wife so much she looked the other way for a long time,”
she said. “But what happened at Rock Creek Park was way too public
of a scandal for her. Mrs. Grayle is always worried about how
things look to others. After what happened the other day she
probably won’t be able to show her face in public for a long time.”
Rebecca sighed and shook her head. “I feel so sorry for Mrs.
Grayle. She really is a nice lady, even if she is a bit of a snob
sometimes. She didn’t deserve this.”

Thinking back on what I’d experienced at the House
of Flowers today, I had to wonder what Senator and Mrs. Grayle’s
sex life had been like. If they’d had a sex life at all, that is.
Between all his expensive mistresses and his membership in a
top-secret S&M sex club, it certainly seemed that Senator
Grayle hadn’t been getting his sexual satisfaction from Mrs. Grayle
for a very long time. I also knew that the Grayles had no children.
Had their marriage ever been a real marriage at all, or had it
always been just a sham front to help Senator Grayle’s political
career? Whatever the case, I had to agree with Rebecca. Unless
there was something sinister about her that had been kept secret
for more than thirty years, Mrs. Grayle had gotten a raw deal.

I cleared my head of all these thoughts. I couldn’t
get personally involved in that mess. Especially not now. “Rebecca,
what do you say I order us in some Chinese takeaway for lunch and
I’ll try to make sense of all these calls.”

Rebecca smiled. “Sounds good. But I always thought
you hated Chinese food.”

I smiled back. “You know, I used to. But today I
just have a taste for Chinese for some reason,” I said. I headed
for my cube to make the takeout call, clenching my vaginal muscles
as tightly as possible to keep the Chinese balls from chiming in
Rebecca’s earshot again. “How about sweet-and-sour pork, chicken
with cashews, and an eggroll appetizer? My treat.”