Page 50 of Learn For Me
“Becauseyoumatter to me,” he told her. With one last nip on her shoulder, he spun her around and linked their fingers together. “Keep up. I have no qualms about tossin’ you over my shoulder if you don’t.”
Her softooohof delight was lost in a masculine cry from the far end of the room.
Damn near dragging her over to the corner, he slammed his hand on a silver plate set into the wood, impatiently tapping his foot. When the wooden paneling slid aside to reveal the elevator car, he wasted no time bundling her inside, and slapping the up button.
“An elevator in a sex club?” Olivia asked.
“A new addition. I prefer going down…” Trailing a fingertip along the middle of her dress, Zeke smiled wickedly. He was drawing a circle over her mound as the elevator finished its ascension and pinged open quietly, spilling them out onto a wide, secure balcony overlooking the scenes below.
It ringed the entire upper floor, standing four feet high, and the guard rail was ornately carved. The open space in the middle offered a bird’s-eye view of the scenes taking place below, but Zeke was impressed by the almost-translucent net secured to eyelet hooks on the inside edges of the balcony floor.
He knew there were two sets of stairs leading downstairs in case of an emergency—fire or otherwise, but aside from that, this part of the club was focused entirely on providing safe, private rooms without taking away the communal experience.
Six privacy rooms ran along each side of the floor, with three at the far end.
With Olivia’s hand in his, he strode down the row of numbered doors, checking the lights above each one until he found one that glowed green. One of the last available, he noted, giving the door a light knock for form’s sake.
When only silence came from within, he pushed it open, then paused on the threshold.
“In these rooms, you’re perfectly safe,” he said somberly. “Once the door locks, it registers on the system in the security office, and the safeword recognition software kicks in. Red is your word, Olivia. Use it, and not only will I stop whatever I’m doing, but there’ll be someone up here within moments to check on you. Only the Masters and the security team have keys for these rooms. Okay?”
She nodded, her bottom lip pinched between her teeth.
“Verbal answer, angel. Are you okay with this?”
“Yes. I’m good with it, Master Zeke.”
A growl reverberated in his chest as his cock throbbed. Teasing her all night came with consequences, and her use of his new honorific played havoc with his libido. Yanking her against him, he claimed her mouth, stealing the breath from her lungs as she gasped.
The scars on his back pulled as he lifted her, swinging them inside the room, and kicking the door shut with a decisive crack. His hand lashed out and flicked the lock; the unintrusive buzz of the system activating barely audible over the soft keening coming from his sub.
Not just sex, he reminded himself sternly. Tonight was all about showing her what she’d signed up for; their first night together had been interrupted by the revelation of her secret, and while he planned to be careful, he also intended to be thorough.
Breaking the kiss, he inhaled deeply. “Strip off the dress, Olivia. Fold it and set it aside. I want you on your knees, thighs spread, hands linked at the bottom of your back.”
She blinked at him, those beautiful hazel irises shrinking into thin rings of honey brown around pupils the size of the moon. Indecision and nerves scrolled over her face like words on a page before she fumbled for the hem of her dress, gathering the material up and over her thighs, revealing the delightful patch of curls at the apex.
Wetness streaked her thighs, and he was gratified by the quick flash of dark pink flesh.
More creamy skin was exposed as the garment continued upwards, exposing the flatness of her belly, and then the curves of her breasts. Tight, dusky nipples popped free, begging for his touch.
As the dress slipped over her head, all Zeke could do was stare.
There’d never be a time when he looked at her and didn’t see perfection. He wasn’t an idiot; he knew firsthand how time and age took its toll on a person, but with Olivia… if he lived to be a hundred and still had enough fuel in the rocket to go a round or two, he swore that she’d be as beautiful at seventy-five as she was now.
Her movements were shaky as she obeyed his order and folded the material, placing it beside her on the floor. Her knees dropped to the carpet, inching them apart until her thighs formed a wide vee, giving him an excellent view of his night’s efforts. Her arms curled around herself, her hands merging into one at the base of her spine.
“Good girl,” he purred, circling around her slowly. “Back straight, Livvy. Open your shoulders. Relax and take a breath.”
Her eyes were on him, even though her head stayed still. He felt them tracking his steps, following his path. Understanding she possessed an inherent need to feel connected, he rewarded her with a gentle stroke of his hand over her hair.
“Don’t move. I need to gather a few things, but while I do, think about lettin’ go. How it’s gonna feel when you’re in my hands, all those nasty doubts and insecurities fallin’ away.”
“Falling away?”
“Mmm-hmm. When you submit, you give everything to me, Olivia. The good and the bad. I take control. I handle the responsibility.” Skimming his fingertips over her shoulder, Zeke strolled to the equipment drawers masquerading as a wardrobe, opening the doors with a flourish. “A submissive offers up her entire world to her Dom, and in return, he repays her trust with pleasure and peace.”
The room was on the small side, adding an aura of intimacy. He was already figuring out how to utilize the queen-sized bed, what tricks he had up his sleeve to make the evening memorable. The larger pieces of bondage furniture—spanking benches, stocks, Saint Andrew’s crosses—were downstairs, but there were plenty of alternatives to take advantage of in here.