Raw Ch. 11

He arched an eyebrow at me. "I actually thought you'd be naked under that overcoat."

"Hmm, maybe next time."

He growled as he cupped my breast through the flimsy shirt. Then his hand trailed downward. He licked his lips as he fingered the belly ring. "Is this..."

"It's not."

Malcolm lifted his eyes to mine. "Could it be?"

My cheeks grew warm. "You'd like that?"

"Only if you do." He tugged my hips closer to him and kissed me once more.

"I think it's something I could consider," I whispered against his lips. When I felt his hand creeping up my ass, I pulled back and closed my coat. "My teacher said I needed to get home."

"I think he said to behave and enjoy your Spring Break."

"Well, you know I can be a bit of a troublemaker. I'm not sure if I can obey him on that first request."

He growled again and gave me a lascivious grin. "I think you may need some personal tutoring over vacation, Ms. Rockland."

I rubbed my hand over his growing bulge. Then I unlocked the nearest door. "Good bye, Mr. McClaren."

###

Saturday morning, we had our usual breakfast. But unlike our usual mornings, he wasn't dressed to go for a jog. He'd thrown on his robe over his boxer shorts, his hair still messy from our lovemaking last night and a good night's sleep.

After a quick kiss, he led me to my office. He sat me down in my chair behind my desk and left the room.

"Malcolm? What's going on?" I called after him.

He returned shortly with the straight-back chair we kept in the guestroom next door and sat down on the other side of my desk, facing me. Then he bent over. When I heard the rustling of paper, I pushed back from the desk and ducked as well. He had a filing box at his feet, the lid upturned on the floor. I didn't remember that being in here before.

I sat up and jumped. He was staring at me, his mouth turned down, his eyes dark.

"We need to talk."

Oh. Shit. I felt the blood drain from my face. My eyes dropped to the desk where he had set a legal pad and a pen in front of him. He picked up the latter and removed the cap.

Had he reconsidered a non-disclosure agreement? I'd asked about it almost three years ago when we had first started seeing each other. He'd said we didn't need one. But now? Now we'd seen—unfortunately—the infamous movie version of the first "Fifty Shades" book. NDAs were all the rage as a result, even in the vanilla world. Although they had no idea what they were talking about, much like with the contents of the rest of the novels. But I did. And Malcolm did.

I gulped. "What do you want to talk about?"

He tapped the end of the pen against the paper. "Our wedding, my dear. I fear we've been procrastinating, and I want to make you Mrs. McClaren as soon as I can."

I unclenched my hands in my lap and smoothed my palms over my sleep pants. The wedding. Of course. How silly of me. I'd done it again, jumping to the worst possible conclusion.

"So tell me, what kind of ceremony do you want, dear?"

"Funny you should ask." I turned around, pulled a folder from my filing cabinet, and opened it before him. "I've been doing a little research over the past couple of months."

We spent the rest of the morning and early afternoon tossing up dates, locations, and finally, whom to invite. It was funny how easy most of the decisions came once we actually talked to each other about it. I'd had little doubt we'd disagree. But then again, we could have had vast differences in what we'd imagined our wedding would be like. He could have wanted some kinky ritual with his friends from the club. Though he was adamant that there would be no collaring ceremony or anything like it as long as I was against it.

"So, we've agreed to wait until school is out," he whispered, clutching my hands. "We'll have a small ceremony at our beach house with family and immediate friends. And we'll arrange a private reception at the club on our return from wherever we decide to honeymoon."

I nodded, worrying my lower lip. Three months and I'd be married. I'd be Mrs. Malcolm McClaren.

We stared into each other's eyes for several long minutes. I didn't know about him, but it was something I'd never get tired of doing. He eventually broke the moment by leaning across to brush his lips against mine. I willingly reciprocated.

"Now that the important part is done," Malcolm said, closing my folder and adding it to his box with his legal pad, "I think we need a little vacation."

"What did you have in mind?" I crossed my arms. "Another impromptu trip across the border? Maybe south this time?"

He chuckled. "No, I was thinking north into the city at the hotel Rockland. I hear they have a vacancy, and I know someone on the inside who can get us a room for cheap."

I arched an eyebrow. "You always have someone on the inside." This of course made me lick my lips because I suddenly thought of him being on the inside of me. It took some effort not to say that aloud.

"Then a nice dinner out," he continued, ignoring me. "Maybe a night of playing at a private club."

"I think I'm intrigued."

"Good. Go pack for a couple of days."

I hopped out of my chair and gave him a kiss before I headed upstairs. We hadn't been to my condo since last fall. I really loved living with him, but I was kind of missing my old place.

On the drive to Chicago, I rolled the window down partway and stuck my hand out. The crisp air felt wonderful although it bit my skin. If it wouldn't have distracted other drivers—and I knew I wouldn't catch pneumonia—I probably would have hung my head out as well. I had spring fever. Bad.

The first thing I did when we got to my inherited condo was open all of the windows to air out the rooms. I found some scented candles and lit them in the master bedroom to get the musty smell out even faster. Then I flung myself back on my bed.

"Gee, if I didn't know better, I'd say you missed being here." Malcolm leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms.

I rolled onto my stomach and sighed deeply. "It's been my home for so long."

He crossed over to sit beside me on the bed. "You don't have to sell it."

I just nodded. I'd tried to think rationally. Why did we need another house an hour from where we lived? It may have been in a great location in the city, but it was no longer practical. Still, I didn't want to make any rash decisions.

I groaned when his hands rested on my shoulders, his thumbs pressing into the tight muscles of my neck. As his hands moved down, kneading my back, a moan slipped out. Then another. And another.

By the time his hands had crept around to my sides and grazed my breasts, I was panting. He made quick work of lowering my jeans and panties. Then I cooed contentedly as he slid into me.

He proceeded to fuck me so slowly I thought we'd never get to the end. I gripped the comforter with both my fingers and my teeth. My pants were still around my knees, keeping my legs together as I lay prostrate across the width of the bed. They created a tight bond that made my thighs grip him as he rocked in and out of me. It was amazing. I could only imagine it felt just as good to him.

We came together, his body resting on mine afterwards as we shuddered from our release. I pried one eye open when he eventually moved off me.

"Where are you going?"

"To bring our bags upstairs. Do you need to take a shower before we head out tonight?"

I rolled over onto my back, kicking my pants loose. I parted my legs and planted my heels on the comforter. "I have a better idea on how to get cleaned up."

He growled and crossed the room again in two steps, climbing up onto the bed to kneel between my legs. "And you think I'm insatiable?"

His tongue and fingers began a slow torture of cleaning my pussy. It was redundant as I could feel the twinges of another orgasm pulling at me from within. Neither of us seemed to care.

###

Dinner at an upscale steakhouse was delicious. But the whole while, I worried deep down about revisiting the club. It had been three months.

Malcolm must have sensed the tension in the air. He remained silent about the subject until we were in the cab on the way to the club. He held my hand in his as I stared out the window. His deep voice drew my eyes back into the car.

"Count to ten and let out a deep breath. Then tell me what your concerns are."

I obeyed the first part. But when I tried to put my thoughts into words, every reason for why going back to the club was upsetting fell flat. I'd had my therapy. I'd had good times there. I shouldn't dismiss the establishment because of one bad visit. And I shouldn't associate the club with my brother.

In the end, I just sighed again and looked out the window.

Malcolm didn't push me to discuss it. Once we'd entered the club, he led me directly toward the private rooms. I found my tongue to question what he was doing, as dumb as that sounded.

"Shh," was all he said while we ascended to the second floor. As soon as he'd secured the door, he turned to me and said, "Strip and get on the bed."

He was halfway there himself with his shirt flung aside and his hand on the zipper to his pants. I slid the sleeveless straps of the short, flowy dress off my shoulders. The rest of the material slunk to the ground. I heard his gasp as he realized I'd gone commando.

I was kneeling on the bed as he finished disrobing. He climbed up beside me at full attention. I prepared to lie down, but his hand on my arm stopped me. He lay on his back instead and tugged on my hand.

I was shaking as I straddled his waist. As he slid into my warmth. As his hands on my hips guided me.

My eyes closed, and I let the surroundings infiltrate my head. The heavy beat of the base from the music beneath us combining with my heart in my chest. The sounds of our panting. The scent of Malcolm's cologne drifting up to my nose.

I gripped his arms and let my head fall back as I fell into the trance of our lovemaking. We found our rhythm. His hands caressed my breasts now. And I let go of all of my worries like the water draining from the tub after I pulled the plug.

When we'd recovered, we went below to dance. We rested and drank. Then we danced some more. Twice, we visited a private room. Once, he held me against the wall while he fucked me from behind. The second time, I worshipped his cock on my knees until he'd been unable to hold out, flinging me over his shoulder to carry me to the bed where he ravished me until we were both covered in sweat.

Fully exhausted, we left the club. I snuggled against him, my head against his shoulder. I had just closed my eyes when I heard him tell the cabbie to go to a new address that wasn't my condo. I struggled to focus my thoughts and ask him where we were going.

"Shh, Becca. Rest."

I was too tired to disobey.

###

My eyes opened to see daylight slipping in a window. I blinked and yawned as I sat up, the sheet pooling at my waist. The cool air of the room whispered against my bare breasts. I rubbed them lightly.

"That is a delightful site to see in the morning."

I screamed and pulled my knees up to my chest, scrambling to find the sheet without taking my eyes off the man standing by the open door. "What the fuck are you doing in my bedroom?"

"Your bedroom? Dear, Lady Becca, you are in fact in my bedroom. Or more precisely, a bedroom in my house." Jesse took a step further into the room. The door clicked closed behind him. "I pray that you slept well?"

I tugged the sheet tighter to me and glanced around the gray-and-white decorated room. It was small with only the bed and a narrow three-drawer chest against one wall. A single chair sat next to the chest, and my red dress draped across one arm. "What the hell is going on here? Where is Malcolm?"

"He is downstairs. I shall take you to him, if you desire."

Fuck that, I would go on my own. Without thinking, I flung back the sheet and stood up.

A deep moan crossed the short distance to me. "Such a beautiful woman."

I cursed under my breath, remembering that I had no panties or bra on, and yanked the comforter towards me. Teeth clenched, I muttered, "Can you please toss me my dress?"

He took his time reaching the chair and picking up the garment. He did it so reverently, as if it was a fragile piece of art. To my horror, he brought the dress to his nose and closed his eyes as he inhaled.

A shudder ran through me. I held out one hand, ready to catch it when he flung it me. Instead, he brought the dress to me. I swear he intentionally held it out of the reach of my waiting hand as he used his other hand to stroke my cheek.

"We could be so good together." His voice caressed my ear, reminding me of those brief moments of seduction on the couch in the secret room of his basement.

Before my instincts could kick in, he placed my dress in my hand and crossed the room. I blinked as the door closed behind him. Had that just happened?

I was dressed within seconds and navigating my way down a stairway to the first floor. I didn't see or hear Jesse. Or anyone else for that matter. Did I dare call out? While I wanted to find Malcolm, I didn't want to draw Jesse's attention. But I figured I was too late for the latter, anyway.

The layout of the main level came back to me as I wandered through the living room. I easily found the door to the basement play area. It was partially open. I was contemplating exploring the rest of the first floor before returning to the scene of the crime when I heard voices from below.

The door creaked slightly as I slipped through. I'd elected to carry my shoes, which aided in my silent descent. The voices grew louder but not clearer.

"Plus serré, mon chéri," Juliet said.

"Dites-lui quand, Lady Juliet," Jesse's voice responded.

"Are you sure I'm doing this right?"

The sound of Malcolm's voice made me pause on the landing halfway down.

There was a loud gasp, then, "Eet feelz vunderful, mon chéri!"

I took another step down so I could see. I wished I hadn't.

Juliet appeared to be naked as she hung horizontal to the floor from a contraption on the stage. It wasn't the same hangman's noose from the dungeon party I'd attended. Instead, it looked more like the monkey bar display we'd seen at the convention. Ropes bound her arms straight-out from her head; wrapped her midsection; and held her legs bent and apart. She appeared to be frozen, doing the breaststroke. At intervals, chains held those ropes to the bars above.

She didn't appear to see me. Nor did Jesse who stood directly behind her at the back of the metal framework so that her feet flanked his hips. And Malcolm definitely didn't notice the fourth body in the room as his back was to the stairs.

"Can there be loss of circulation?" Malcolm asked. "Pain? Cause for distress?"

"Only if you tie the ropes too tight. Lady Juliet has a high tolerance, as you are well aware."

Malcolm chuckled. "But she's not usually on the receiving end."

"Very true." Jesse stepped around to Malcolm's side. "In this position, she is left vulnerable to all angles. From the back, below, and the front. See?"

Oh, yes, I did see as Jesse demonstrated thrusting his hips against Juliet's face.

"It all depends on the dimensions of the device. Here, take my place."

I covered my eyes for a second, but like a car accident, I couldn't remain blind to the situation for too long. I peeked between my fingers to see Malcolm standing before Juliet's face. Jesse had returned to standing behind her. From where I was standing, if I hadn't known better, it looked like one was fucking her mouth while the other fucked her from behind. Jesse even had his hands on Juliet's legs, swinging her slightly so her face bumped up against Malcolm's crotch. He jumped back slightly.

"Of course, you can adjust the length of the chains so that she is at the correct height for whatever function is desired at the time," Jesse said. "Remember, less repositioning means you can increase performance and achieve greater results."

"Vous pouvez atteindre mes seins?" Juliet said.

Malcolm scratched his head. "Come again?"

"My breaztz. Can you reech them, mon chéri?"

I stood up straight, letting the upper steps block my vision. I didn't want to see if my boyfriend—my fiancé—was touching another woman's breasts.

Malcolm's laugh seemed strained, much to my delight. "I'm sorry. My French is a little rusty."

"We can amend that," Jesse said. I saw his smile as I lowered my hand. "Join us this summer. It will be like old times."

"I can't. I'm getting married in June."

"Bring Lady Becca. My wedding gift to you. She would enjoy it immensely."

I could hear the anticipation dripping from Jesse's voice. It made me shudder.

"Yeez. Breeng your Beeca, mon chéri. We have all kindz of fun."

I shivered again. What was it with these two that put me so on edge? And furthermore, whatever had Malcolm seen in them that he considered them such good friends?

"I will have to discuss it with her."

"You are her Master," Jesse said. "There is nothing to discuss. Come, we will go make plans."

I descended the rest of the steps and said loudly, "Discuss what?"

There was a brief gasp. The fact that it wasn't collective clued me in that my presence wasn't a complete surprise to everyone on stage. In fact, I'd wager, only one person didn't know I'd overheard more than just Jesse's last comment.

"Becca!" Malcolm jumped off the stage and crossed the room to embrace me. He pressed his lips to mine and turned to face our surprise hosts, one arm still around my shoulders. "We've been invited to visit Paris with Jesse and Juliet this summer."

"Oh, how lovely." Under my breath, I leaned in and hissed in his ear, "You have a lot of explaining to do."

~ H