The One Worth Finding (17 page)

He had called
Grace, who was very
worried about him. He felt sorry for causing her so much grief, but
it felt so good to have someone who simply liked him, without
hiding, without baggage.

He would be damaged goods tomorrow, at
least for a while. He would need every friend who could tolerate
him then.

He stripped and let Sondra douse him with
golden body glitter. Thank god she didn’t go over the top with it.
He didn’t look Goldfinger-ish, thankfully, it was just a whiff of
sparkle. If he was lucky, Tara would even like it. She’d certainly
never complained about his sweet looks.

He sighed.

Tara. Despite all the pain she would
cause him, he couldn’t wait to see her again. It was their public
scene. The highlight of their time together before she returned
into her lifeless shell, haunted by memories of the dead sub she
couldn’t let go.

He had seen her apartment. It
was almost empty, u
n-lived in. She just existed there, and it made him feel
helpless. Maybe he should suggest she see someone, a therapist or
counselor. Yeah, sure that would be great - then she would finally
have a reason to put him into his place and wipe her hands off him
forever. He was just a temporary sub. He had no business meddling
in her life.

He lowered his head. One
night.

But
he would make sure she never forgot
it.

The club was most certainly buzzing with
life, and she didn’t want to go in there. Aaron was there, and Tara
had a serious case of nerves now.

She couldn’t play cool and unaffected.
This cost her too much, and she was scared shitless.

She had been fine yesterday, but right
now emotions were chasing each other through her body like
misbehaving children, and she just wanted to run, run and
hide.

But she couldn’t do that to Jack. One of
the few people who’d cared for her when she’d been way, way
down.

She looked at her watch: half
past ten. She had to hurry, the public
scene was scheduled for 11
p.m.

With a final deep breath, she
collected herself and opened the door.

Heat, noise and chatter wafted into her
face, and Tara fled into her wardrobe to change into her Domme
outfit. Leather pants and vest, she didn’t make an exception for
tonight. She wasn’t one to wear frilly corsets and short skirts.
This was her.

The doorman greeted her and opened the
gate. The music was even louder now, the rhythm thundering, and
Jack got hold of her arm.

“
Number six!” he more or less
screamed into her ear, “Harte’s somewhere at the showrooms, you
should find him without problems!”

Tara nodded, grabbed her toy-bag even
tighter and marched in the general direction of the showrooms. A
huge crowd of people was gathered there, people dressed in black,
looking through the big windows at the public scenes.

Master Andre with the whip.
Master Zach did a Shibari demonstration. She was in Number six. She
felt her stomach churn
in quiet outrage. She didn’t want to do this,
didn’t want to see him. Just wanted to leave, get silly drunk,
purge him from her system. As if that would ever be
possible.

He waited for her in front of the room.
Like all subs tonight, he only wore black underwear, tight
boxer-briefs in his case.

He looked
breath
taking,
and his smile turned his beauty into something unearthly, something
she couldn’t even begin to fathom. How could she touch something as
perfect as him and then discard him? She wanted to weep.

“Body glitter?” she asked
softly.

“
Yes, Ma’am,” he answered with a
slight chuckle, “Sondra said all subs are wearing it. She was
right. We’re all glittering tonight. Don’t you like it, Ma’am? I
can shower it off.”

She drew a deep breath. She would never
forget this sight as long as she lived, and she would cry every
time she remembered.

“
I love it, little pet,” she
whispered. “You look like a Christmas present.”

He came closer, the heat of his body
invading her space.

“Please unwrap me, Ma’am.” He said
softly.

“
I will, angel,” she whispered,
“in a moment.”

She pulled his head down and kissed his
lips, ruthlessly invading his mouth with her tongue. This wasn’t
good, she thought. Too many feelings swirling through the air,
everything would catch fire and explode. His taste coated her
senses, and she needed more of him, more sweetness, more warmth to
endure her coldness for the next decade.

“
Let’s get into our room,” she
whispered into his kiss
, “it’s time.”

They entered the room. It was
decorated and painted in black, which matched Tara’s mood
effectively. Only the gynecological chair right in the middle was
bright red.

Aaron couldn’t stop himself from
smirking.

“
Lithotomy
position
,”
Tara said, “ever done this before, little pet?”

“No, Ma’am.”

“Are you scared?”

“No, Ma’am.”

His voice was firm and she believed him.
This man feared nothing. He was so at ease with his beautiful body
she almost envied him.

“
Undress,” she ordered
softly;
he
pushed his underwear down and stepped out of them.

The big curtain that covered an entire
wall would open in ten minutes and reveal them to the audience. The
music was not as loud here as it was in the main room, but clearly
audible.

She walked over to him and circled him
slowly.

“
I chose this position, because I
want the audience to see you come,” she said. “It is wonderful how
you unload all over your abdomen and chest. Don’t hold back
tonight, little sub. I want to see your emotions on your face,
every single one of them.”

She looked at the curtain as if it
were the enemy.

“
In a few minutes, this curtain
will open,” she whispered, “I want you to keep your eyes on me.
Don’t look at the people out there, not once. I will do the same.
Okay?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he nodded, “you know
I’ll obey.”

“
Yes, I know,” she breathed, “do
you know that I won’t hurt you…”

She stopped midsentence. She would
hurt him. Would hurt him so bad he might take months to recover.
She corrected herself.

“…
won’t cause you physical
pain?”

Their eyes met, and she knew that he had
understood. His gaze held a sadness that made her want to double
over with agony.

“
I trust you, Ma’am,” he said
firmly
, “with
my life.”

She couldn’t speak and nodded
silently. He went to his knees and held her hand against his lips,
and in this moment, the curtain started to open.

Neither looked
at the window
pane.

He got up and lowered his gaze, and she
went to the washbasin for preparations. He waited silently for her,
never raising his eyes, ignoring the audience as she had told
him.

Tara’s hands trembled, and she fought to
get it under control. She knew the procedure by heart. Disinfect
the hands, get the glove, put lube into a bowl. She placed
everything on a little table next to the chair.

“Get on the chair, sub,” she ordered
him, her voice calm and Domme.

He obeyed, pushing his pelvis to the edge
of the seat, the ripple of his hip muscles hypnotic.

He lifted both legs into the footrests,
his hands into the cuffs at his side. He was silent and effective,
didn’t hesitate, didn’t show fear. She tied his feet and his hands
and felt him relax beneath her hands, his body getting ready and
pliant, willing to receive almost anything.

The rhythm of the music was harsh,
fast, matching the throb of her body. He was hard. And when he
looked into her eyes, love shimmering like liquid in his gaze, she
forgot the audience. It simply went away.

She rubbed her hand over his
cock, collecting the thick drop of pre-cum at the tip, spreading it
over his chest. He shuddered, and
she climbed onto the step in front of him
to kiss him, bathe his lips with hers, their tongues dueling in
nameless passion. He arched his neck when she left him, demanding
more kisses, and she slapped his face lightly, just a warning. No
games tonight. She felt his cock impossibly harden, saw his eyes
going dark with lust. She could feel the emotions thunder between
them, growling, menacing, love and sex and insane hunger, and she
was scared, so scared. How could she let him leave? She had to. How
could she? Despair bubbled up in her throat, and she stepped down
to get away from the adoration he sent her way.

She donned the glove with an
audible snap of latex
, watching him shiver in anticipation. His eyes made her
hot, they always had, but tonight, there was something dangerous
inside them, something unavoidable, something that didn’t allow
compromise.

She trickled lube into the cleft
between his buttocks, and he let his knees fall apart to give her
better access. His hips undulated against the chair, he was horny,
aroused, impatient.

The music was loud to her ears now, a
giant, pulsating throb that grabbed her whole body. Her clit
matched the rhythm, so tight and engorged she gritted her teeth to
keep from rubbing against the stool she sat on.

She rubbed the lube in, pushing two
fingers inside him in a gentle, attentive slide. He moaned and she
could see how hard it was for him to stay good and not urge her to
take him faster. She pressed her fingers against his prostate in a
crooked movement, and he screamed so loudly she knew she shouldn’t
continue this if she didn’t want him to come immediately. She
pushed a third finger into him to the knuckles, thrusting softly,
reveling in his groans, his soft cries of longing and lust. Hunger,
passion, desperation swirled inside her into a deafening crescendo,
and she knew she was losing control. Fourth finger. She moved her
hand in his opening and let the thumb slide in, forming her fingers
like the beak of a duck, all tips together. She breathed harshly.
She loved him like mad, wanted to own him, wanted to
run.

She pressed onward, his cries
mounting into keening screams of ecstasy. She looked into his eyes,
the brilliant sea-green swallowed by his dilated
pupils
, she
saw the greed in his smoking hot gaze, the need to be fucked raw.
He gave a desperate gasp when she passed his sphincter, and she
felt the distinct sucking sensation that was typical for this
stadium, her hand being pulled into his tight channel, owning him,
filling him. She felt tears streaming over her face and forgot all
finesse, using her fist to thrust, and with a hoarse cry he angled
his hips to give her utmost access, taking her hand deep. She used
her knuckles to rub against his prostate, and he came with a
bellowing scream, shivering and shuddering, warm, milky liquid
squirting over his quaking torso in long, strong jets. She pulled
out slowly and carefully, triggering violent aftershocks that had
him squirming on the chair. He sobbed, and she saw that his face
was wet with tears, strained, convulsing in desperate, mind-blowing
ecstasy.

She got up and discarded the
glove, shaking all over, using soap and disinfectant
mechanica
lly,
without really noticing what she did. A robot.

She freed his arms and legs with a
minimum of touching, and the second she had completely untied him,
the curtain buzzed shut.

She raced out of the room, forgetting
aftercare, forgetting everything, just needing to escape, to
vanish, to disappear from the face of the earth, her eyes a blur of
tears, her legs trembling.

He caught up with her in the dark hallway,
slamming her against the wall, hard, firm hands undressing her,
almost tearing her leathers at the seams. He lifted her roughly and
she wrapped her legs around his hips with a violent wail which grew
louder when he ruthlessly impaled her on his semi-hard cock,
already swelling to full size inside her. He was massive, thick
like a pillar, she was almost gagging from the sensation. He was
fucking her so hard she almost lost consciousness, but her body
screamed for more.

“
Don’t go,” he groaned
hoarsely
,
“don’t run from me, please, please, don’t run, don’t leave me,
please, I need you, don’t send me away…”

She whimpered and cried out but her
traitorous body reacted, came, felt the connection, the explosion,
the melting of souls. Her climax blinded her for a moment, she dug
her fingers into his shoulders, sure as hell leaving her mark. He
threw his head back and came with a violent roar, his seed sloshing
against her heated walls until it overflowed and trickled down her
trembling thighs. He thrust all the way through his orgasm, so hard
her back banged against the wall, rough stones scraping her skin.
She didn’t care, lost in the throes of their combined passion. He
nipped at her neck, his breath sobbing and harsh, before he
unwrapped her legs and set her down, making sure that she could
stand on her own.