Page 65 of Jerk
“You nervous Hannah won’t show?” Gray asks another annoying question, lighting up beside me. His smoke adds to the hazy environment, red lights and dry ice filling the room.
“I’m not nervous,” I grab the joint out of Gray’s hand, knowing it does nothing to back my words. “I’m pissed off.”
Scanning the room, we’re almost at capacity. Ember’s gallery is smaller than I prefer, in an area I don’t care for. It helps that we swapped out canvases and sculptures for red velvet and silk. It creates a contrast against the harsher brick and glass walls. A small space also means we made this party exclusive. It’s not for anyone. That makes this party all the more attractive.
“Pissed off because Hannah walked away from you in front of everyone today?” Mac chuckles. “Why are you surprised? It’s Hannah. She’s only out for herself.”
“This washerplan,” I remind them. Mac’s in joggers tonight, clearly just here for the vibes. Gray sports velvet boxers. Nothing more. “She doesn’t get to reap the benefits without being in the trenches with us.”
“Speaking of reaping benefits,” Gray says. “Heard you two added more steam to the steam room.”
“So it’s about the sex,” Mac says, two fingers around a crystal glass of amber liquid. “Right?”
“It’s about putting things where they belong,” I answer.
He laughs, sarcasm in his tone. “Sure, it is.”
Just as the clock strikes midnight, the gallery doors swing open.
It’s hard to hide the smirk that pulls on my face when Hannah walks in wearing her own interpretation of my dress code.
Her posse flows in behind her. While everyone followed the rules, the party a sea of reds and blacks in varying textures, Hannah didn’t even choose a colour. She looks like a fallen angel in a sheer body-hugging dress embellished with crystals and gold chains, slits rising to her thighs. It’s almost like she’s wearing nothing but sparkles, a crystal pasted over each nipple.
She locks eyes with me as she saunters into the room, flipping her shiny dark strands over her shoulder. She’s even streaked it with glittering highlights. Anything for the attention. The crowd parts for me as I approach her, a twitch in my pants as I watch her move. Curves in the right places, hips I want to grab. I want her bent over something. Anything. I want to show her that I do control her. I control her when she’s gasping for air, my cock buried inside her. I control her when my hands dominate her body, keeping her in place so I can give her my?—
Focus, Rowan.
“Here to greet the guest of honour?” she asks, those lips curling into a smile.
She looks good and she knows it. But there’s no time for admiration. Reaching into my pocket, I pull out a long gold chain. Her body stills when my hand reaches for her face, my knuckles grazing her soft, warm skin.
“You’re right, Hannah.” Moving behind her, I graze my fingers along her collar before I wrap the gold chain around her neck.
“A gift? For me?” she asks.
“Exactly.” I attach the gold leash to the chain around her neck.
Her eyes widen as she turns around, following the long gold chain to the black leather handle in my grasp.
“What the actual fuck?” She tugs on the chain, looking around us.
“You're our guest of honour.” I shorten the leash, tugging on it. She stumbles over her heels, losing that iconic composure as I tug those pretty red lips to my face. Her eyes drop to my lips, then up to my eyes, like she’s fighting something inside her. “Let me show you around.”
“Rye, wait!” She grabs the chain again, but I pull harder, eyes on us as I lead her towards the chaise in the corner of the gallery. A red spotlight hangs over it. Another throne, just for her. “This isn’t why I’m here.”
“Isn’t it?” My hands come to her shoulders, pushing her down onto the chaise. After grabbing a couple of tools off the wall, I approach her, watching her lying there like the beautiful art piece I’m about to make a mess of. “I thought you liked my punishments.”
Her gasp fuels me when I pull her arms behind her back, securing them with a pair of golden cuffs. She leans forward, looking around her. “I thought we’d talk.”
“Now you want to talk?” Moving behind her, I tug on those silky strands, tilting her head back. Then I pop a black silicone ball into her mouth, attached to velvet straps. “I think I’ve heard enough.” It’s easy to fight against her physical protest, keeping her in place with her hair wrapped around my fist. Then I tightenthe gag around her head. “I’m going to show you how much control you have. And this time? I want everyone to see.”
She tries to say something before realizing her words only come out as muffled sounds.
“What was that?" I ask with a smirk. "You like it when you have no option but to let me touch you?” I grab one of the tools I brought over. A vibrating wand.
Her eyes fall to the toy in my hand, my smirk stretching as I trail the vibrator down the front of her dress. Hooking it into the fabric, I expose those soft tits, those pink, perky nipples just waiting to be teased. She lets out soft sounds when I graze the hard, cold silicone over each one.
“If you can’t handle it, you grunt for me, got that?” I ask, those nipples hardening for me under the red light. “That’s your White Flag, and I promise you I won’t stop until I hear it.” She lets out a sound when my fingers grip her nipple, squeezing them as I flick the switch on the toy. Her back arches when I do, and I smile as she proves my point.
