Rendezvous Chapter 3
Copyright KD Robichaux 2017
“Bri, my man! You make it to New York okay?” Seth hollers into the phone, trying to be heard over the thumping music of our club. A few seconds later, the bass dulls to a low throb in the background, and I imagine he’s gone upstairs to the offices, closing the door behind him.
“Yeah. Got to the hotel about an hour ago and ate some dinner. Did Mrs. Witt contact you?” I ask.
“Yes. Not much to go off, but I’ve got all systems running, watching all his credit card activity. I’ve tapped into a few of his vehicles’ GPS systems, but haven’t been able to locate the one he’s apparently using. Fucker has over a dozen. Who the fuck needs that many cars?” he gripes.
I roll my eyes. “Says the dude who doesn’t own one.”
“Hey, I have my bike. And we have Twyla’s car too. We don’t need more than that. Especially since I switched out my single seat for a double on the motorcycle. You can’t beat the feel of a woman’s legs wrapped around yours while you’re riding, and when you shift and her titties press against your back—” I hear a smack and Seth call out “Ouch, woman! Today was chest day at the gym. Watch the pecs.”
“Stop talking about my boobs with Glover,” I hear Twyla hiss in the background.
Seth sighs into the phone. “Anyway, yeah. Bike beats a car any day of the week. But this bag of dicktips has fourteen. It’ll take me a few more hours to find all the VIN numbers and tap into the rest of the systems. According to Mrs. Witt, the car in the surveillance footage looked like a newer model sedan, so I’ll check those out first. But he could’ve switched cars after the cameras went black.”
“Okay, just call me as soon as you get a lead. I’m kind of wandering around aimlessly until y’all tell me where to go,” I say, looking up as there’s a tap on the hotel room door.
“Will do, bud,” Seth replies, and we hang up.
I get up off the edge of the bed and force myself to walk to the door calmly, when everything inside me is telling me to run to the woman I know is behind it. When I pull it open, my heart thunders behind my ribcage when I see her beautiful smile spread across her face. “Hello, lover,” I greet quietly, and brace myself when she makes her move.
She drops her bags there in the doorway and launches herself into my arms, uncaring she’s in a skirt, knocking me back a single step as I wrap my arm around her hips. Even though she’s curvy in all the right places, with my wingspan, I’m able to circle her entire body with one arm while I keep the door open with the other. With her bare legs wrapped around my hips, she grasps behind my neck and leans back to look into my eyes. “Hey, big guy. How’s the air up here?” she teases, like she always does before sliding down my six-foot, eight-inch frame.
With the top of her head now at my chest level, she has to tilt way back in order to look up at me, so I take the opportunity to lace my fingers through the back of her hair, my large hand cupping her skull. She’s so tiny. I could crush her easily just by making a fist, yet she brings out a gentleness in me that has me handling her like the precious piece of art she is. “Much better now that you’re here,” I murmur, before lowering my face to hers. She goes up on her tiptoes as I let go of the door and wrap my arm around the small of her back. My body surrounds hers as our lips connect.
And just like always, it’s like coming home after a yearlong deployment. How such a little creature could hold a big man like me in the palm of her hand, I’ll never know, but that’s the way she makes me feel. Her kiss is fiery, even as it sends a soothing coolness down my spine, like walking into air conditioning after riding in a blistering Humvee all day. She’s like a cold glass of water after sweating in the desert for weeks, like the first time I kissed her in Afghanistan. She quenches a thirst inside me that no amount of submissives at my club could ever slake. It’s why I don’t bother fucking anyone there, even being one of the head Doms. Why would I when I’d only be picturing Clarice in their place? And everything about that just feels wrong.
With a sweet sigh of satisfaction, she gently breaks the kiss, pulling back and looking behind her at her bags while I try to calm the thundering of my heart. “I guess we better get my bags in so we can close the door all the way. Don’t want to give anyone a show,” she says on a giggle.
“Why not? We’ve done it before,” I remind her, thinking back to the scenes we’ve done at various BDSM clubs around the country.
“Uh-uh, big guy. You haven’t completed your mission. No reward for you… yet.” She winks, spinning in my arms to bend over and grab the straps of her bags, her ass pressing to my front, and I nearly go cross-eyed.
I reach around her and take the bags from her hands, carrying them into the suite. Placing them on the luggage rack inside the closet, I then turn around to see her plop down on the end of the bed, he breasts bouncing at the top of her low-cut white T-shirt. She’ll be the death of me.
“Nice place they put you up at this time. Come over here and tell mama about your mission,” she says, reaching her arms out to me and opening and closing her hands.
I narrow my eyes at her. “I signed a nondisclosure.” I shrug teasingly. “I can’t willingly tell you a thing.” I saunter toward her, and she takes my hand with one of her outstretched ones and yanks. She wouldn’t really make me even budge, but I allow myself to fall onto the mattress on my back and smirk as she climbs on top of me.
“I can torture it out of you,” she whispers, leaning forward until her chest is pressed to mine. My eyes can’t decide which they’d rather focus on, the red pout of her perfect lips or her breasts now spilling from her neckline. My cock swells almost painfully inside my jeans. “Mmm, feels like someone likes that idea.” She grinds her hips, pressing her smoldering core down on top of my erection.
“Fuck, baby. Please,” I groan, both loving and hating the fact she’s the only woman who can make me beg. The urge to close my eyes and just feel her comes over me, but I don’t want to look away from her. There’ve been too many long nights I’ve spent dreaming about her face to not keep my gaze locked on her while she’s actually here, in my presence, mounting me and bringing me to my knees the way only she can.
She sits up abruptly, reaching for my belt, and I sigh in relief that she’s giving in so easily. She usually likes to tease me for hours before finally giving me a real taste of her. But that relief comes to a halt at her wicked grin. I lift my hips slightly, allowing her to pull the belt free from the loops when she tugs, my brow furrowing in confusion.
She purses her lips in a sexy taunt before lifting a perfectly arched eyebrow. “Aww, you didn’t think it’d be that easy, did you, big guy?” she purrs, and she loops the belt around my wrists, tightening the leather until my hands are locked together above my head.
I could get out of it easily, but I don’t want to. I love it when she toys with me like this. She’s the only one I play this game with, the sole person in the entire world I trust enough to give my own submission to. I may be a Dom, but for her, for my Clarice, I become a switch. It does something for my soul that I can’t explain, and I know it does the same for her, something we never talk about, something she’s never opened up to me about in all the years we’ve been friends and have taken turns letting the other dominate.
“Now,” she chirps, reaching for the hem of her tee and peeling the tight material over her head. My Adam’s apple moves in my throat as I swallow audibly. So goddamn perfect. “What’s your mission, soldier?” She starts with the top button of my flannel and begins unfastening each one.
“I-uh… I have to rescue a chick who’s been kidnapped. She uh…” I gulp when she finishes with the flannel and reaches for the button of my jeans. God, she makes me so weak. “She was something of an escort, a companion. And her sugar daddy didn’t like it when she told him she wanted to end things.” I signed a non-disclosure agreement, so I’ll keep my mouth shut about Infidelity, but I trust Clarice and know she’ll keep the details I confide in her to herself.
She tugs down my zipper. “He abused her?”
My hips instinctively lift to press against her heat. “None that was reported.”
She hops off me, and I fight back a whimper at the loss of her touch. She may make me weak, but I’ll be damned if I fucking whimper like a little bitch. I lift my head to watch her as she unlaces my boots and pulls them from my feet along with my socks. And then I rock from side to side as she tugs on my jeans, allowing her to yank them down my legs before they disappear. She reaches behind her, unfastening her bra before letting it fall to the floor, and then she hovers over me and begins to slide her tits from my ankles, all the way up to the tops of my thighs, my hairy legs turning her puffy pink nipples into hard little points.
“Are there any leads?” she breathes along the elastic of my boxer briefs before grasping hold of it with her teeth.
I gulp before replying, “None yet.” She tugs the fabric over my aching cock. “Fuck, baby.” I long to flip her over and bury myself deep inside her wet, molten core, but instead, I bask in the sweetness of surrendering to her wants. I’m sure it’s an amazing feeling for her, for such a giant of a man to submit, knowing she has so much power over me. And I love the fact I can make her feel powerful, that I can do all that for her just by receiving the pleasure she wants to give me.
“Then whatever will we do to pass the time?” she asks, fake worry contorting her features as she stands at the foot of the bed after baring me from the waist down.
As if to answer her, my cock juts upward on its own, and the sound of her sweet giggle fills the room.
“Aww, does somebody want some attention?” She pouts as her eyes lock on my pulsing erection.
“Please,” I groan, a single milky drop of precum oozing from the tip.
“Poor baby. He’s crying,” she whispers, her eyes showing sorrow as she crawls up my body once more. “Maybe I should kiss him to make him feel better.”
I nod, unable to speak as I look down my body, her braced above my hips, her eyes never breaking contact with mine as she leans down and swipes her tongue up my length. I hiss as if she’s burned me with her fiery touch, and the sound makes her grin impishly. She grasps hold of my steeled cock and engulfs the head with her searing mouth, and it takes everything in me not to thrust deeper. I learned my lesson the last time I wasn’t able to control my instincts. She stopped and wouldn’t continue for a full day, after making me promise I wouldn’t jack off. And I’d never break a promise to Clarice, so it was pure torture until she gave me relief twenty-four hours later.
She releases my cock with a pop, smiling up at me. “Such a good boy,” she purrs, and then straddles me. She takes my shaft in her tight fist before lining me up with her dripping heat beneath her skirt. I hadn’t realized until now that she’s not wearing any underwear. The knowledge is equally hot as it is infuriating, but I force myself to remain in my submission. I will have to scold her later for going around without panties on, when a draft of air at the right angle could bare her to someone’s eyes… someone’s that aren’t mine.
But for now, I close my eyes and savor the feeling of my length disappearing inch by slow inch as she lowers herself until she has me fully seated inside her. And then she begins to move, and I lose all sense of the world except for the places where our bodies are joined together to become one.
She rides me with vigor, her movements desperate as she chases her orgasm, the look on her impossibly gorgeous face telling me she is so close she can almost taste it. I know I could get her there if she’d allow me to touch her, but she hasn’t released my hands, indicating she doesn’t want me to break from my surrender.
She drops herself so hard I feel the head of my dick punch against her cervix, and as she grinds herself in circles, my vision goes blurry at how goddamn perfect she feels. My breath comes out in pants as I try to stave off my orgasm, refusing to blow my load until my beautiful mistress has gotten her blissful release.
Her movements turn jerky, less graceful as her face contorts with her concentration. And finally, “Now, Bri!” leaves her on a panicked whimper as her body folds in on itself, her face planting against my chest as I feel her walls tighten around me in a viselike grip. The pressure valve inside me releases and I come so hard I’m scared the power behind my orgasm will hurt her. So I try to be as still as possible while my cock pulses, emptying jet after jet of cum inside her, as she melts on top me.
“Damn, big guy,” she sighs against my chest, her hot breath tickling my nipple. “That never gets old.”
I chuckle beneath her, then work my hands out of the belt, my arms coming down around her to hold her against me as I roll her until I’m on top, my cock still firmly planted inside her depths. “I have no doubt it ever would with you, lover,” I tell her, leaning down to rub my nose against hers.
She allows herself a split second of the dreamy look in her eyes before she blinks it away, changing the subject. “So what’s your plan of attack for rescuing this girl?”
“Tonight, I’m going to make a few stops at some of the hotels he owns, see if anyone has seen him around. Hopefully, Seth will have something pop up in all his computer sorcery that will give me something to go on,” I tell her, and slide gently out of her, watching her wince. “You okay? Did I hurt you?”
She smiles up at me sleepily. “Technically, I would’ve hurt myself. I was the one bouncing around on your disco stick. But I’m fine. It’s just been a while… and God blessed you.”
I chuckle, moving to the bathroom to wet a washcloth with hot water. When I return to her, she spreads her knees for me, and I press the steaming cotton to her swollen flesh. She loves it when I do this for her, claiming she’d never been taken care of after sex before she met me. For me though, aftercare is one of the best parts of making love to her. It’s one of the only times she allows me to treat her like the queen I see her as.
“You know, the first time I met you, I wondered if you were going to be an Elliot Richards situation.” She grins.
“Who the hell is Elliot Richards?” I ask, jealousy evident in my voice.
“Elliot Richards, in Bedazzled. The part when Brendan Fraser uses one of his wishes to become a basketball player. He’s huge, like seven feet tall, and the chick he’s in love with is a sports reporter. She follows him into the locker room to seduce him, thinking his wang is going to match the rest of his giant frame,” she explains, her grin still in place.
“And did it?” I prompt, removing the cloth and positioning my shoulders between her legs.
She glances down her delicious body to meet my eyes as I take a long, slow swipe up her folds, flattening my tongue against her and allowing the heat of my mouth to soak into her abused flesh, soothing her.
“No. He had a micropenis, and when he saw it, he started yelling ‘Damn the devil! Damn the devil to hell!’ Because she—the devil, I mean—kept messing up his wishes,” she rambles, never looking away from my gaze. It’s the only hint I get that I affect her the same way she affects me.
The pure eroticism of staring into each other’s eyes while I gently eat her pussy has me hardening once more, but feeling how swollen she is, I won’t take her again tonight. If she hasn’t had sex since the last time we met up, then it’s been a little over a month. But that’s not something we discuss. We have a mutual respect and trust for each other. We really are each other’s best friend. We know the other is clean, and she is on birth control, and we promised we’re the only ones we’d not use a condom with.
“So you were already thinking about the size of my dick the first time you met me?” I murmur against her slick folds, and her hips make a circle against my lips.
“Big guy, I’m sure that’s what all women think when they first meet you. ‘I wonder if his cock matches the rest of him,’” she mocks the last part in a valley girl voice. “Bitches,” she adds under her breath, and a smile spreads across my face at her slip of jealousy.
“And does it?” I prompt, just to egg her on as I circle her clit with the tip of my tongue.
She bites her lip, her brow furrowing in pleasure, before she attempts to redeem her sassiness. “You fishing for compliments, Jolly Green?” Her head then presses back against the mattress as her hands shoot into my hair when I nip at her bundle of sensitive nerves before sucking it into my mouth, releasing her with a loud sound of suction.
“I just love hearing you talk, beautiful. And even more when it’s about my cock,” I tell her, and then stop messing around. I set upon her pussy like a starved man, eating her with fervor until she’s a writhing, drenched mess beneath me. When her inner thighs tremble, I know she’s about to come, so I put all the focus on her clit until she explodes.
She cradles my head against her, holding me there as if her life depends on it. And I savor this perfect moment, the few seconds when she’s vulnerable and her walls come down, and bask in the fact I’m the one she’s hanging onto.