Her Old-Fashioned Husband (19 page)

“Goddamn it, I should torture you until you’re begging me to let you come, but I just can’t hold on,” Tom groaned as he knelt before her, swinging her legs over his shoulders. He pushed the head of his cock against her pussy.

“Yes, oh yes,” Frankie groaned, her head thrashing back and forth on the pillow.
             

“More, more,” she cried.

He filled her, delighting her nerve endings, driving her crazy. He rested his thumb over her clit and started flicking it.

“Come with me, baby. Come on, come with me now,” he crooned.

Wave after wave of excruciating bliss overtook her. She barely heard his own shout of satisfaction as he came inside her.

Shaking, small trembles of release still rocking her, Frankie leaned forward with exhaustion.

“Wow,” she said.

“Amen to that, baby,” he agreed.

Tom was going to kill her. Frankie knew it. Her butt was toast when he heard about this. But she’d started on this path and she wasn’t going to turn back now.

No way.

As soon as she found the courage, she’d walk up to the door of Decadence, and see what a real BDSM club was like. She’d done her research, she knew this was open night, so she could come and explore and not worry about the fact that she was unescorted.

Nerves almos
t
had her running the other way. But she was made of tougher stuff than that. Besides, she was
doing this for Tom, to try and heal the rift between
him and
Roarke
. This anger he
was holding on to wasn’t healthy, she’d seen the pain in her husband’s eyes and voice. There was something else going on, she just knew it.

At least Brax wouldn’t be
her
e. T
onight was for newbie’s only. Strictly for people curious about the
lifestyle,
who wanted to test the waters, ask questions and maybe play a little. Or so their website had said.

Insides quaking, she walked up the stairs. The name of the club was discreetly written on a plaque beside the door with a small doorbell. She pressed it and heard nothing. Waiting thirty seconds, she almost pressed it again when the door opened and a large man stood there, dark-skinned with his head waxed and tattoos covering his arms. She nearly turned tail and ran.

He raised a brow. “You coming or going, kitten?” he asked in a deep voice.

“C-coming?”

“Now, you don’t sound too sure about that,” he drawled.

Frankie straightened her shoulders.
You can do this.

“I’m coming.”

“Well, not yet, but maybe by the end of the night you will be.” He winked at her and she blushed bright red at the implication.

“Oh no...I’m not...I mean...I’m married,” she blurted out.

His face became stern. “Then where is your husband, kitten? He let you come here without him?”

“No,” she replied hotly, bristling at the hint of contempt in his voice. “He doesn’t know where I am.”

“That so? Y
ou’re a brat, then. Well, I hope he spanks you good when he finds out.”

“Oh, don’t worry, he will,” she
said fervently.

The man chuckled. “I like you, kitten. You’d be a handful to be sure, but I’ve always liked my
subs
with a bit of a challenge in them. Come inside then.”

“Thanks.” She blushed again, realizing she’d been standing out of the stoop the whole time, just blurting out her private business to a man she didn’t know.

“Umm, I’m Frankie,” she said as he ushered her inside and took her coat. He stared down at her in admiration. She tugged at the high hem of her red
dress;
maybe she should have worn something a little less tight, a little less revealing.

“Stop playing with your dress,” he barked. She immediately stopped, although she frowned at him.

“It’s rude to just snap at people like that,” she told him primly. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Joe, sweetheart. Keep up that attitude and I might just decide to play
with you
a bit tonight.”

She gaped at him. “No, uhh, I’m not here to play. Married, remember?” She held up her ring finger.

“So why are you here without your husband, kitten?” he asked.

“Umm, don’t you have other people to look
after?
It’s awfully quiet, isn’t it?” She looked around the
empty
foyer
. S
he guessed they were out the back. However, there was no noise and no one c
oming through the door. Maybe this place
wasn’t very popular.

“Everyone else arrived on time, kitten, only you were late.”

“Oh.” She bit her lip. “I got a bit nervous. I didn’t think it would matter, being late.”

“Oh, it
matters;
in fact Master B might decide to take his displeasure over your tardiness out on your butt.”

She gasped, feeling a bit ill at the thought of someone other than Tom touching her.

“Now, I’d like an answer to my question, I don’t like to be kept waiting either.”

Jesus, this man
flicked from cheerful and teasing to stern at the flicker of an eyelid. What the hell had he asked her?

“Roarke,” she bit out. “I’m here to see Roarke.”

Instantly Joe shut down. “If that’s all you’re here for, sweetheart, then I’m afraid you’re destined to be disappointed. Roarke doesn’t play with newbies.”

“No, I mean, I don’t want to play with him, I just want to talk to him. He’ll see me, I know he will. Please, just ask.”

His gaze softened. “All right, kitten. Come on, I’ll introduce you to Master B. I’ll ask Roarke, but don’t be surprised if he doesn’t see you.”

“He will, I know. Can you please tell him Frankie’s here?”

Roarke sat and looked disinterestedly out the large window of his office into the playroom below. His office was on a mezzanine floor, completely hidden from view by tinted one-way mirrors. Newbie night. He used to enjoy it. Used to get out amongst them, and take an interest in their enthusiasm, their shock.

“You’re not going down there? You used to like newbie night.”

He
glanced over at Sam, his
friend, his lover, his submissive. Sam was the one thing in Roarke’s life he knew he could count on. Oh, he had his family, but they didn’t understand him, and after Austin’s death he’d distanced himself from them. He knew that had hurt them, but sticking around would have hurt them more.

He shrugged. “Been to one, been to them all.”

Currently the group were standing before the St Andrews Cross watching as two of his team,
Saxon
and his sub Olympia, demonstrated its use.

Yeah, he should be down there.

Yet he stayed where he was.

“We could go and demonstrate some of the equipment,” Sam said, a hint of frustration in his voice.

Roarke turned to look at him. “Are you feeling ne
glected?” H
e hadn
’t played with Sam for a while.

Sam shrugged, dropping his eyes. “You’ve had other things on your mind.”

Roarke silently cursed himself, yeah he’d had things on his mind. Tom. Austin. But none of that excused neglecting Sam. He might be successful in business and have plenty of money, but the only happiness in his life came from Sam, the one person he could not live without.

Come here,” Roarke said deeply. “Strip and kneel before me.”

Sam’s eyes lit up.

Damn, I have been acting like a real ass.

Standing, Sam reached for the bottom of his t-shirt when someone knocked on the door. Sam stilled, but Roarke gave him a stern look and he continued to strip.

“Come in,” Roarke snarled. “And it had better be good.”

By this time, Sam’s magnificent chest was bare. Tan
ned
, muscular and wide. Roarke didn’t move his gaze from Sam’s body as Joe entered.

“Roarke, sorry to interrupt,” Joe said apologetically.
He looked over at Sam.
“Very sorry.”

By now Sam was down to his underwear, his cock firm, pressing against his boxer shorts.

“What is it?” Roarke asked, holding his hand up to still Sam. He was hellishly possessive and even though he and Sam played plenty in public, he didn’t often demand that Sam get completely naked. Crooking a finger, he urged him forward. Sam came and knelt gracefully at his feet.

“There’s a woman here, says she knows you. Cute thing. Mouth on her, though. Just added her to the group, reckon Brax will give her a dressing down like she’s never had before.”

“Joe,” Roarke said sharply, wanting the other man to get to the point. Quickly. His own dick was longing to feel Sam’s mouth around it, sucking him deep. Joe was a great guy, but damn he could talk.

“She wants to speak to you.”

“No,” Roarke replied.

“That’s what I figured,” Joe said amicably, showing no offense at Roarke’s short reply. “I’ll go tell Frankie she’s out of luck.”

Frankie?

“Wait.” Roarke stood as Joe turned to go. “What’s her name?”

“Frankie. Not a very feminine name for a woman with all those curves.”

“She’s about 5 foot 8, dark hair, deep brown eyes?”
Roarke asked urgently.

“Yeah, you do know her?” Joe asked with interest.

Roarke might be
bisexual, but he hadn’t shown an interest in women since meeting Sam,
most people thought he was gay. But he and Sam had often talked about adding a woman as their third.
Not that he was interested in Frankie like that, she was off limits.

“Wait, she’s in the playroom?” Fuck, Tom would murder him. “With Brax?” he yelled, pushing past Joe who was gaping at him. He heard both men follow behind him, but didn’t spare them a backward glance as he raced down the stairs.

The stairs exited into a changing room, the playroom was beyond.
He didn’t have to go that far, however. Brax and Frankie stood in the otherwise empty changing room, Brax looming over her sister, his face red with fury.

“What the hell are you doing here, Frankie?” Brax yelled, his hands firmly around his
sister’s
shoulders as he shook her. Roarke bristled, surprised by his protectiveness towards the vixen who was glaring up at her older brother.

“What am I doing here? What are you doing here? This is newbie
night;
you’re not supposed to be here.”

Roarke watched on in silence, feeling Joe and Sam step up behind him. The fighting siblings hadn’t seen them yet and he thought he might get his answers quicker by waiting and watching.

“What are you talking about? How did you even know about this place? What do you mean I’m
not supposed to be here because its newbie night?”

“Well, I figured you wouldn’t be here because you’re not exactly new to BDSM.”

The duh was very clear in her voice and Roarke felt his lips twitch. He heard Sam snort behind him. Joe was worse, he chuckled.

Brax looked over at them, frowning. He straightened as he saw who it was. “Sorry, Roarke, I, ahh, need to leave early I’m afraid. I need to deal with a family matter.”

Brax grabbed hold of Frankie’s upper arm and attempted to drag her from the room. He managed a few steps, after all, he was a big guy, but then Frankie grabbed hold of one of the pillars and held on for dear life.

“I am not going home with you, Brax.”

“Let go of that pole, Frankie or I’m gonna turn you over my knee right here and blister your butt.”

Frankie went bright red, her eyes shooting daggers at Brax. Roarke did grin this time. Damn he hadn’t been this amused in, well, years.

“You can’t spank me, Brax Jamieson. Tom will kill you.”

“Tom will thank me before he spanks you for sneaking out and coming here. Does he have any idea you’re not safely tucked up in bed?” Brax asked her.

She lowered her gaze guiltily.
Which was what Roarke had expected, no way would Tom let her come here, certainly not alone.

“You are in
so much trouble, little sister,” Brax told her.
“
Now, let go of the pole so I can get you home to face your husband.”

Frankie stubbornly shook her head.

Joe chuckled behind him. “She’s a firecracker, damn
it
would be fun to tame her.”

Both Roarke and Brax glared at him. He held up his hands in supplication. “Just saying.”

Frankie grinned. “You couldn’t handle me,” she said cheekily.

Joe laughed. “Probably right there, kitten,” he said agreeably. Roarke snarled at him. “You know what,” Joe said. “I think I should get into the playroom, what with Brax out here they’ll be a bit short-staffed.” He fled the room quickly.