Knots (Club Imperial Book 4) (4 page)

He shutter, and his cocked trembled temptingly with that motion. “No, mistress.”

She leaned in close. “Good. I look forward to removing it later.”

He swallowed and nodded. “Me too, Mistress.”

“Bend over. Spread your legs, and hold on to the couch.”

He complied as a good sub would, and Cece spread the lube on the toy. She pressed the wide head against him, and without any warning pushed in. Her fingers had started to prepare him for this, but this was bigger than even her fingers. He gasped and trembled and she paused. “Relax, let yourself get used to that.”

“Mistress, please, just go all the way.” She could see his legs shaking, and let the topping from the bottom go.

“Alright.” Cece eased the massager all the way into its hilt. She pressed it and then let go slowly.

His breath was jagged, sawing desperately in and out. “Mistress, please, may I come?”

Well
. She smiled. “No. Not yet.”

His legs trembled even more. Cece didn't want to prolong his torture at this stage; he had at least six hours of delightful withholding ahead of him. She picked up the rope she chose and began the convoluted patterns that would hold him for the rest of the day. She cinched it around his waist, and twisted the end under. There would be no actual knots, just patterns holding the rope in place. That was the beauty of shibari. Nothing was truly tied.

She crossed the ropes over his lower abdomen, and passed them under his legs, on either side of the heavy erection and clenching sac. They wound around his legs, and she made sure they crossed the right over the hilt of the plug, pressing it in. Everett groaned quietly, trying to keep a rein on himself. The ropes continued up and around his waist again and then down over the outside of his trim, muscular hips. She brought them back around, under the firm white ass, between his legs again, and then over his sac below his erection. She intertwined the ropes up to the waist, one last time, and tucked in the windings of her most basic shibari creation.

The ropes were tight, and would leave their patterns on his skin. They were also tight enough and placed in such a way that no one would notice them under his clothes. Cece couldn't resist the firm ass he presented; she slapped him hard once on each cheek causing him to groan, and making it hard to not let her own lustful moan out. It was time. She was wet and ready for him from all the rope play.

“Stand.” He did and once again groaned, losing some of his control. His cock was hard and purple and straining from under the shirt and tie that he still wore. “Now…” Cece smiled at him. “Sit.”

She knew exactly what 'sit' was going to do to him. He gasped when the pressure hit the twisted rope over the hilt of the plug, and she watched his face as the shock of lust raced through him. “Hands up and crossed.” Everett complied immediately and she took a short length of rope and bound his hands, tossing the rope over a hook on the wall, immobilizing him.

Cece rolled up his shirt and tie to move them out of her way, palming his painfully hard dick in her hand, adoring the feel of his straining desire, knowing that her ropes, their play did that to him. “Do you want to come, Everett?”

He groaned. “Oh, God, yes Mistress.”

“You have permission to come when I say so, and you will come inside me.”

Cece decided to give him a little strip tease, turning so he could watch her slip the skirt up her hips, revealing one of Everett's favorite things: black silk thigh-highs, a garter and nothing else. He let out a breath and watched riveted. She smoothed the skirt to her waist and straddled him, her smooth pussy wet with desire right as his eye level. She caressed his engorged cock and held him firm, then lowered herself onto him, sinking him home.

Cece let out a slow breath, enjoying the feel of him stretching her as she welcomed him. Everett knew everything she had done was as much a turn on to her as it was to him. She loved her ropes and winding them on. She enjoyed every gasp and groan he let out, no matter how controlled.

She seated herself on him, wet and ready. Holding him fast inside her, she made herself wait before she started moving on him—just a little bit more teasing and torture. Everett was so hard he was nearly painful, and she liked it. She rocked a little harder and a little faster, and she felt the silk rope sliding over her clit.

They were silent by necessity, but she was panting hard very quickly. She had wound up herself up tying his ropes. Everett had tossed his head back as Cece ground down on him, his cock finding home each time. She braced her hands on the wall and lost herself in the motion on him and feel of his dick in her. She spiraled up quickly to her peak. This was why she enjoyed Everett. His cock was amazing and his willingness to be bound and submissive to her was what she needed. It pushed her to the top, made her crave the fall. She slammed her hips against him, dragging his cock in and out of her pussy. And then Cece was about to drop off the precipice into a shattering orgasm

She leaned down to his ear. “Come, Everett,” she said.

A quiet low moan escaped him as thrust his hips up into her once, twice and as she came down hard on his third thrust, he exploded inside her as she hit her climax hard. She threw her head back and rode his dick hard, squeezing out every last drop of come into her.

Their motioned and moans diminished slowly, and finally they rested, joined by his cock in her pussy. She took a few slow deep breaths and finally moved off him, enjoying the sated sensation and the satisfied wobble in her legs. She cleaned herself up, then took her time cleaning him up. After care was part of the fun, listening to him try not to react to her ministrations. And finally, she grabbed the ties of the rope that held his hands immobile and unbound him.

She knelt next to him on the couch and spoke softly. “No touching, no jerking off. You'll leave everything where it is until I remove it.”

“Thank you, Mistress.” He was quiet and still calming from the scene.

“Dress.” Cece gave him a clear command as she adjusted her skirt to it's proper position. She wached Everett redress himself, enjoy the little show. She ran her hand over his clothed ass and could feel the ropes. “Tonight, at eight.” She slipped a keycard into his back pocket, tracing her fingers over the edge of the ropes.

“Thank you, Mistress.”

“I look forward to tonight, Everett.” She backed away and leaned against the desk, folding her arms.

“I always do, Mistress.” He smiled.

“You may go”.

Unlocking the door, he let himself out. Cece waited until he was gone to let herself relax a little, letting the wonderful feeling of sex bleed through her muscles. Every orgasm with Everett was amazing and it took her a few minutes to really come down from that. She dropped into the chair and let her head fall back. So.
Damn
. good.

After  giving herself a few moments to recollect, she looked down at her legs and realized the stockings were completely askew. Lift her right leg, she pulled her skirt up. She unhooked the right garter, and rolled the stocking down to straighten it by pulling it back up, and clipped it back up. She hiked the other leg up and just as she rolled the stocking down to adjust it, there was knock at the door and it pushed open before she could object

Killian stepped in.

She froze and couldn't react. He froze, his eyes locked on hers. After a moment, his eyes slid down her body and landed on her naked sex. He slid his eyes back up and broke the stare. He stepped back out and closed the door.

Cece stared at the door, stunned and voiceless. She closed her eyes, let her leg fall to the ground and grimaced.
Shit
.

Killian found Cece's office in the back of the building. He was having trouble finding some of the journals he needed, but the library system said were available. He knocked on her door and turned the knob, pushing in when he found it unlocked.

He had the question on his lips but instead of finding her seated properly at her desk, he found her leaned back in the chair, one leg hiked up. He caught her eyes and when his brain caught up, he realized that her skirt was hiked up while she adjusted the thigh highs she was wearing. He couldn't stop his eyes from wandering down.

She was gloriously naked and shaved clean. Her pussy glistened in the light of the room, wet with her own desire. He memorized in those few seconds the contours of her sex, and finally slid his eyes back up to hers. Neither of them knew what to do, so Killian finally just back up and closed the door.

Holy fuck, she was sitting like that next to me.

He had an instant erection pressing against the inside of the zipper.

She was gorgeous. He had always known she was beautiful, but seeing her bared, naked and clearly excited was something he didn't ever expect to be treated to. She was just adjusting those gorgeous thigh-highs and clipping them back to the garter.

Killian grabbed a magazine, draping it in front of him quickly and casually. He tried not to run from through the library. He sped up to the guest researcher lounge, pacing back and forth after tossing the magazine on a table there.

Christ
, Cece was so hot. He tried to block the image from his head. He tried to forget what he had just seen. But instead of letting it go, his brain started to come up with images of him bending her over that desk and sliding his dick home in her.

He cut that one off only to have it replaced with an image of her slipping him inside her and riding him. He tried to cut that one off as well, but nothing was stopping him. His hard-on was painful. There was only one thing he'd be able to do to get rid of it.

Killian pushed open the luxurious bathroom stall and locked it. He unzipped his himself and pulled his cock out from behind the zipper. He hadn't been hard and unable to get rid of his erection in years. He leaned against the door, and fisted himself, pumping hard.

He imagined it was Cece with her lovely long fingers wrapped around his steel hard cock, pumping slowly. He could see her watching him slide up and down in her hands, maybe thinking about licking at the head and cleaning off his pre-cum. He remembered that clean, light perfume she had been wearing mixed with the faintest scent of her sweet, sexual cream.

She was sitting next to me, exposed. I could have reached up and made her come her right then and there, and licked her off my fingers when I was done.

He imagined running his finger ever so lightly over those pale pink lips her legs hid so well, and feeling her shiver from his touch. He could imagine slipping a finger inside her and using his thumb to tease and torture her clit. Her breathy voice would whisper his name so only he could hear her. Moving his finger in her wasn't enough; she'd beg for another. And he would slip another finger inside. She would be hot and wet and it would feel so good to feel her wrapped around his fingers.

Her hand would wrap a little tighter around his cock and she'd move just a little faster in her excitement. Cece’d breath heavy in his ear and drop her head on his shoulder. She'd try to push herself down on his hand harder and faster.

And he would stop her, demanding she let him play. He could see taking her free hand and holding it behind her, holding her place. He could hear little protests that weren't really protests but sighs of delight as he held her still while he brought her closer and closer to her climax. Killian wanted to see her pert breast thrust forward with her gorgeous nipples peaked and straining the fabric. He could hear her begging him to finish her off. He would hush her; he was in charge. Cece would keep up her strokes on his erection, pumping a little harder to entice him.

He could see her eyes close in pleasure as he moved his hand faster and hard over her clit, and in her wet tunnel. He found the g-spot inside and her pressed until she was panting and ready to come, then backed off. Her hand would tighten around him, but she would take the dewy drops from his head and use them to lubricate her hand, sliding over him with less resistance.

He would tease her up to near climax at least twice more, and finally as he felt his own sac tighten he would plunge a third finger into her sex and find her g-spot one last time. Cece would arch her back and squeeze her legs around him, biting her lip hard to not scream in delight at the orgasm that was coursing through her. And through her orgasm, she would still be pumping his cock harder and faster and hearing her struggle not to scream her climax to the world as his hand worked her sex would finally bring him to his release.

Killian cupped his own tight sac and a moment later, his cum exploded out of his dick as he pumped his hand hard and fast over himself. He thumped his head back against the door as he fired his release into the space ahead of him, four, five, six times. He drooped against the door, releasing his sac and feeling the erection finally start to retreat in his other hand.

“Fuck,” he whispered aloud. He hadn't even touched her, and that was one of the hardest climaxes he'd had in a long time.

Killian looked down and found that he had made a mess of the floor in front of him. He took a deep breath and cleaned himself up, tucking now-relieved cock away in his pants again. He cleaned up the mess that his come made as well.

He was going to have to avoid Cece for the rest of the day, which was not want he needed or wanted to do. He needed to do this research. Killian knew he’d wonder every time he was near her if she was panty-less.

How was he going to deal with this now?

The phone in his pocket dinged with a text message, and still trying to recover with a few deep breaths, he pulled it out.
Diane
. He opened the message, and it was a picture of her breast. Her extremely disappointing, disinteresting, badly enhanced breasts.

Well, that did the trick.

He texted her back.

Dr.K:
Haven't I told you not to do that?

Diane-pookie:
Just a little something to cheer you up.

He looked at the face of the phone.
Diane-pookie
? What the hell?

Dr.K:
You went into my phone!?

Diane-pookie:
Tee hee. Just changed the display names.

Dr.K:
I AM A DOCTOR, Diane! You can't go into my phone!

Dr.K:
If I had a personal convo with a patient on there, I could be in deep shit.

Dr.K:
HIPAA exists for a reason.

Diane-pookie:
I didn't read anything

Dr.K:
You damn well better not have.

Dr.K:
If I lose my license, you will seriously regret it.

Diane-pookie:
Lighten up, Kay. You're not going to lose your license

Dr.K:
Don't you EVER touch my phone again.

He shoved the phone in his pocket. Well, that was a very effective way to kill his libido—risk his licensure. He couldn't believe she had swiped his phone and paged through it and changed the display names. What else had she done in the phone?

He pushed out of the stall and into the lounge just as the door opened to the room to admit someone. For just a moment he was terrified it might be Cece, but when he looked, he let out a breath of relief. It was Everett Milhouse. He nodded at him and Everett nodded back, but Killian hurried out, way too pissed that Diane had tampered with this phone. He paged through it, trying to see what else she had done and had a horrifying thought:

What if she had put a tracker or a keylogger on it?

Jesus shit, what if she had?

He leaned against the wall.
Oh, God.
He'd been good with deleting the messages, but who knew how many times Diane had grabbed the phone and looked at it or played with it. If the tracker had been on there for more than a month, she would know exactly where...

Shit, shit.
He tried to remain as calm as possible, but moved back to the desk he had been using as fast as he could. He shut down the computer and packed everything up, and ran back to Cece's office. He knocked and put a hand on the knob. He was going to shove in, but that was what had started the whole mess. He knocked again and this time he heard call.

“Come in.”

He opened the door and Cece was seated at her desk. She saw him and instantly went bright red. “Killian--”

“I need to go.” His words were quick, and he cut her off—rude, but there was no time to explain. “Can you lock this stuff up for me?”

“Uh, sure.” She opened the cabinet. “Killian, I wanted to--”

“It's fine. Don't worry about it.” He dropped the binders and files into the drawer. “I have to get going. This is really critical. Will you be here on Friday afternoon?”

“Yes...” Her voice was quiet and curious.

“Thank you.” With a nod, he was out the door before she could ask another question. He was in the car less than five minutes later and shut the phone off. Killian couldn't take the chance that Diane had a tracker on it. He drove across the city, over the Monongahela, past Mt. Washington, and another ten miles out beyond that.

The treelined drive he turned down disappeared into thicker woods, then came to a large circular drive. Killian pulled as close to the main house as he could, and shut the car off. He marched up the porch stairs and had to push back all the memories of the first time he had approached this door. He knocked: two sharp, pause, one sharp, pause, and three short quick raps.

It was only a moment before the door swung open and Killian was surprised. Darien himself had answered the door.

“Killian.” Darien was all business all the time.

“Darien.” He nodded sharply. “We may have a problem. May I come in?”

Darien stepped out of the door. Killian walked in and Darien motioned him to the den.

“You're not here until next week. So this must be serious.”

Killian held up the phone. “I think I've been compromised.” He took a deep breath. “I think the house might be compromised.”

Darien's eyes flared--and at one time, that would have scared the shit out of Killian. Now, he faced Darien as an equal. “What do you mean.” There was no question. He demanded an explanation.

“I'll go in order of how this happened. Starting with Diane texting me a picture of her breasts.”

Darian leaned against the desk. “And you've told her not to do that.”

“Repeatedly, of course,” Killian confirmed. “And then I realized that her name in my phone had changed. She had been in the phone to change her label to Diane-pookie.”

“Ah,” he said. “HIPAA.”

Killian paced a little in front of the couch. “I don't know how long it's been there. as I desperately try to not communicate with her. She must’ve swiped the phone at some point in the past few days. But, I had no idea she was handling my phone. It could have been as long as six months. She may be swiping it whenever we're in the same room. I never realized she was doing this. If she installed a tracker or a keylogger...”

“We come to the heart of the matter.” Darien was cool and collected. “You're afraid she's gotten your messages or tracked you here.”

“Yes.” Killian held out the phone. “That's why this is off.”

Darien walked over to the bar, and tapped his finger on the counter for a moment. Killian watched him carefully. He could read the other Dom like the back of his hand now. Darien picked up a decanter and two glasses, pulling a set of whiskey stones out of the freezer. He placed three each in a pair of tumblers and poured the Macallan 27-year over the stones until there was just barely an inch in the glasses and handed one to him.

“Leeann,” Darien called.

A petite woman scurried in, head bowed, hands clasped behind her back. “Yes, Sir?”

“Fetch Pamela, vite vite.”

She scurried off. Darien took a sip of his drink and looked at Killian. “You need to rid yourself of that woman, Killian. She is a demon.”

“She is who my mother wants me to marry,” Killian answered.

“And since when the fuck have you ever listened to that rotting whore?” Darien demanded.

Killian wilted, his strength seeping out of him. “Never.”

“Listen to me, Doctor McInnis.” Darien swirled the golden liquid in his glass. “Your father is dead. Your sister nearly beat you into a coma to make you realize you were throwing away your life. You came back here to regain a sense of balance and control. You have that now. Again.” He sipped the whiskey carefully. “And you're going to let a money grubbing twatwaffle like Diane take that all away from you?”

Killian shook his head. “Her father is the head of surgery. What choice do I have?”

Darien put his glass down and stepped up to him, putting a hand on either cheek, framing his face. “That is pathetic and lame. You are far, far more man than stooping down to the level of those money driven, good for nothing shits. Especially that thing who wants to call you son.”