Page 8 of CEO April: Zed Barker
Chapter Four
Dinner was very different from afternoon tea. There was a tension that was palpable. I could imagine the pheromones descending like a fog around us. Chat was flowing and natural but the innuendo was rife.
“Zed, so you’re a publisher. I have a great idea for a story,” Duke said, and I groaned internally. “It’s about the landed gentry and all the gang-bangs they’re involved in.” He laughed and I joined in, assuming he was joking.
“Well, you should write it,” I replied, not for one minute thinking he would.
“I have, although I’m expecting a stint in the Tower because of it,” he replied.
“Sadly, we don’t take on erotic works, but I can always point in the direct of someone who can,” I said, hoping I hadn’t made a rod for my own back.
“That’s kind, but I think I might just keep it for myself. Keeps me company at night when I’m alone, if you know what I mean.”
I did, and I also wondered if he was actually a duke. Maybe he’d bought the title instead.
“Gang-bangs. I haven’t heard that term for a while,” Anna added.
Chat then moved on to archaic sex terms and by the time dessert had arrived, we were howling with laughter. It made for a welcome change in the atmosphere; there was only so much heady musk and arousal I could take before it came nauseating.
“Guests, shall we adjourn?” Angela said, and immediately the atmosphere changed again. Excitement started to build.
I followed Angela into a drawing room and was once again surprised at how the inside didn’t reflect the outside in the least. There were large French doors that opened to a patio and from there, access to the beach. Duke poured himself a large brandy, waving the decanter around in case anyone else wanted one. Miriam opted for a whisky over ice, I declined.
Angela walked to a sideboard and picked up a large bowl. She held it in her hands and outstretched her arms.
“Gentlemen, may I have your keys, please?”
We dutifully stepped forward and deposited our keys in the bowl; I silently chuckled to myself, finally understanding what the weekend was all about.
“For our new guest, we have a playroom downstairs or you are welcome to use your own bedroom. We have some nice daybeds on the beach, which is privately owned and a designated naturalist area. In addition, you may use the spa, but refrain fromdepositinganything in the hot tub or pool, if you don’t mind. Ladies…”
One by one the ladies walked forward and formed an orderly queue, it seemed a bizarre thing to do and I wanted to laugh. The smile was soon wiped off my face when Miriam rifled around in the bowl and squealed with delight as she showed off key numbered eight. She turned to face me, placed one hand on her hip, and with my bedroom key hanging off her finger, she pointed at me.
“Come on, boy,” she said, in what I assumed she thought was a seductive purr.
I stood still and stared at her, there seemed to be an awkward pause and Miriam’s possessive stance waivered.
Eventually, I walked towards her. I grabbed her wrist, holding it tightly, and leaned into her ear.
“I am not a dog. You don’tcallme, Miriam. And I’m most certainly not a boy, something you are about to find out.”
Without waiting for an answer, I strode off, dragging her behind me. I didn’t likealpha birds,as Rebecca referred to them, and Miriam was certainly trying to be one. She needed a slapped arse and to be taken down a peg or two.
Peg. Yeah, that’s exactly what I’ll do, I thought.
I led her downstairs to the playroom. “Naked, now,” I said, turning from her and scanning the room. “I don’t hear you undressing. Did you not understand me?” I said, quietly, yet my voice seemed to echo around the room.
I walked over to her, running my palm across her cheek and to the back of her head. I gripped her hair and pulled her head to one side. “I ask again, did you not understand me?” I whispered into her ear.
“I think you have me all wrong,” she replied.
“In what way?” I asked, not releasing the pressure of my hand wrapped in her hair.
“I’m not submissive,” she said, and I was sure that she’d probably only learned the term in her novels.
“I disagree. Your pupils are dilated, and your heart rate has increased. I can smell your arousal, and your nipples are just begging to be touched. You’re finding it hard to breathe, aren’t you? You want to take in a deep breath, but you don’t want to give away how turned on you are. You want me to fuck you, but you want to be the ballsy woman. You’ll do as I ask, or you’ll go choose another key,” I said.
For about twenty seconds there was silence, other than that breath of air she desperately needed. While holding my stare, she reached down to undo her trousers.
