Do it like Magic Mike (Regular Sex Issue 3) Read Online Free Page A

open-mouthed hot, hungry kisses,
her teeth clashing against mine as our bodies writhe on the sheets. She wraps her
legs around my waist when my thrusts get harder, deeper, and her hips rise to
bang mine. Her tongue is in my mouth when she comes, and mine is in hers when I
come with a yell a few last, furious fucks later.
    Our breathing is
erratic, our body’s slick with sweat. I hold her close for a few silent
minutes, stroking her back.
    ‘I think you’ve
put the door restraints on upside down,’ I say, after a while.
    ‘I’m acrobatic,’
she whispers, but I can hear the laughter behind her words. She knows it’s a
fair cop. She’s no more a dominatrix than I’m a transvestite.
    ‘Why did you hire
me?’ I ask, the sweet curve of her ass in my hand.
    She sighs, her
breath warm on my chest. ‘Because it’s been a year today.’
    ‘Since...?’ I
twist a long lock of her hair around my fingers.
    ‘Since I last had
sex. Bad sex. All of the sex I’ve ever had has been bad. All of the men I’ve
ever been with have been bastards.’
    I frown, mad at
my entire brotherhood for treating this woman so shittily that she has no idea
how fabulous sex should be.
    ‘And then I heard
about you...’ she shrugs. ‘I guess I figured that if I pay for it, then it’s on
my terms.’
    ‘Not all men are
bastards. You don’t need whips and cuffs to be in control,’ I tell her, pushing
myself up on one elbow. ‘You’ve just picked the wrong men, Laurel.’
    Her smile breaks
my fucking heart.
    ‘Can I pick you?’
    ‘You don’t need
me,’ I tell her, because she doesn’t. ‘I’m not boyfriend material.’
    Laurel strokes my
cheek, and then she says something that pulls me up short.
    ‘Not all women
are bastards, either, Finn.’
    We look each
other in the eyes, and my cock twitches.
    She sees through
me. No one else has ever done that before. I reach between us and finger her
clit, and she smiles.
    ‘You better give
me my money’s worth.’
    I play with her, finding
her rhythm. ‘Tonight’s on me.’
    Her back arches a
little with pleasure.
    ‘I’ll only book
you again if you don’t charge me.’
    I watch her face
as she comes, then kiss her open mouth.
    ‘I’m banking on
it.’
     
    I kiss her
goodbye at the door, then push the money she’s given me back through her letter
box as I leave, secure in the knowledge that I’ll get it back and then some
next week.
     
    On the other side
of the door, Laurel, or whatever her name is, smiles and pockets the money,
then heads out of the back door of her flat and down the stone stairs into the
basement... or the torture dungeon, as she lovingly likes to call it.
    ‘Candy from a
baby,’ she murmurs, dropping her robe. Finn had been almost too easy; a few discarded
Lovehoney packets and a deliberately upside down strapping system had been more
than enough to pull the wool over his eyes. That was the thing with men. They only
saw what they wanted to see. She didn't let herself dwell on the unexpected tears
she'd cried upstairs, or the unsettling moments where it had felt as if Finn
saw right through her facade to the little girl who'd never been good enough.
She was good enough now, and no man would ever tell her otherwise again.
    'You're in luck,'
she says, shaking off the lingering sense of vulnerability as she surveys the
wall of whips to choose her weapon. 'Looks like you might be getting out of
here soon.'
    She glances
across at the accountant from the second floor flat. He raises his eyes slowly,
pleading, but he doesn’t speak. He can’t, because he’s gagged and strapped to a
whipping post.
    She lifts her
choice down, a black leather bull whip with a pink plaited handle. The thought
of using it on Finn makes her nipples stiffen.
    She pauses just
long enough to send a text before she raises the whip, and as she prowls around
Dennis her phone lights up on the workbench.
    'Tomorrow night's
booking just cancelled. Fancy dinner?'

 
     
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