I didn't want to take care of Contessa. Not like I should have. I was doing something I'd never imagined myself capable of doing.
I was pretending she was somebody else. A petite redhead with snapping blue eyes and a mouth that drove me insane.
At the thought, I surged inside Contessa and her pussy contracted, tightening around me until I groaned. She wasn't naturally as tight as some others I'd been with – as tight as I imagined that little redhead would be – but Contessa knew how to work those muscles.
I thrust into her again, not even attempting to be gentle, and I felt her convulse beneath me. She wasn't necessarily into pain, but she did like it rough. I didn't have to hold back with her. The issue was going to be her ability to hold back, I thought, as I drove into her again, hard and deep.
“Don’t come,” I reminded her, bringing my hand down on the satiny smooth skin of her rump. It wasn't much of a smack, barely turning her skin pink, but it served its purpose.
She nodded frantically. Her hands, bound at the small of her back, knotted into fists, the only indication of her struggle to push back an impending orgasm. She was the sort of Sub made for any type of orgasm play, whether it was making her come so many times that she passed out, or forcing her to hold back until she was sobbing for release. I'd never met anyone who got off as easily as she did.
Of course, that made me wonder how Toni came. Would she be the sort who could climax almost at will? Could she come from penetration alone? Would I be able to coax an orgasm from her in public with just a few simple touches or would I have to work at it? The thought of needing to take hours to get her to come wasn't as disappointing as it would have been with any other partner.
I pounded into Contessa, barely aware of her presence, my mind swept up in images of Toni. Of how it would feel to have her bent over, or spread out before me. If I told her not to come, I knew she wouldn't comply with a bowed head and consent. She’d snarl at me. She’d dare me. She would do what no Sub should ever do. She'd push back.
That feeling in the pit of my stomach tightened, and I knew I was close. I wasn't so far gone that I'd completely forgotten the woman beneath me. She deserved at least a release. I wasn't a complete bastard.
I barked at Contessa, “Come. Do it now, or don’t do it at all.”
She wailed as the climax she’d been fighting to hold back erupted, her pussy milking and contracting my cock. A shudder ran the entire length of her body.
“Can I…” she started to speak.
I yanked her up and covered her mouth with my hand, driving inside her without breaking the rhythm. I hadn't told her she could speak. I didn't want to hear her as she came.
I didn’t look at her, still focused on the mental image of Toni, bent over, snarling at me for daring to withhold a climax from her. Of how she would look when I finally let her come. How I could make her scream with pleasure.
It was the most erotic image I’d ever had in my life.
I came so hard, it was a miracle I didn’t blow through the damn condom.
Contessa shrieked against my hand as another orgasm slammed into her, her body convulsing.
It was...intense.
And it wasn’t enough.
She was still shaking when I pulled out, stripped off the condom and grabbed another. She let out a half-strangled sound as I drove into her again. I was determined to fuck the thought of Toni out of my mind.
***
“Who is she?”
Contessa slid onto the couch next to me nearly two hours later.
We’d both showered – separately, of course – and we were now waiting on a meal. Several hours of rough sex would drain anyone. Normally, I would've just left after my shower without a word, but I'd come down enough now to feel like an ass for the way I'd been with her and figured dinner was the least I could do. Besides, it wasn't as if I disliked her company.
Lifting my head, I studied her pretty face. “Excuse me?”
“I know when I’m being fucked, Ashford.” She managed a slight smile before she lowered her eyes.
She wasn't being submissive. Even outside of the bedroom, she was the sort of woman who avoided eye contact. I didn't know why. I'd never cared enough to ask.
Her tone was cordial enough as she continued, “I also know when I’m being used as a replacement for someone else. Are you involved with her?”
“I…” Scowling, I looked away. I didn't want to think about her. Not after...I shook my head. “No.”
Contessa ran her fingers over the arm of the couch. “Maybe you should be.”
Rising from the couch, I paced over to the window that faced out over the city. It was treated with tinted glass, allowing me to see out, but nobody could see in. I'd fucked more than one woman up against that glass.
“Maybe you shouldn’t worry about it,” I said tightly. I didn't look back at her. “It’s my life, after all. We're good at fucking, Contessa. Don’t mistake it for something more.”
“Oh.” She laughed. It was all amusement and no bitterness. “Trust me, Ashford. I wouldn’t make that mistake. That'd be like keeping a lion for a house pet because you like cats. I’m not stupid.”
Suddenly, she stood. I still didn't look at her, but I watched her reflection in the window as she started for the door.
“I’m not terribly hungry tonight, I don’t think.” Before she slid out of the room, she met my eyes in the reflection. Her voice softened. “Don’t deprive yourself of everything that’s good in life. You’ve missed out on so much already.”
***
The drive home was grim, which completely negated the entire point of me going to the club.
Contessa and I rarely talked about personal things although we had enough in common. It was always about sex, or at least leading up to it. Outside of Olympus, we occasionally saw each other at various social functions, but we never spoke at them. It wasn’t that either of us went out of the way to avoid each other. There were plenty of other people who went to Olympus who ran in our social circles, and I occasionally talked to them.
No, I amended. I didn't talk to them. I sometimes talked to the men, or the women I didn't fuck. I never talked to any of the Subs I'd had sex with, and they never tried to initiate conversation. The one thing I made sure all of my Subs knew up front was that I didn't want any contact outside of fucking. I wasn't looking for a Sub to be a part of my life.
I blew out a breath as I punched the accelerator, sending the Bugatti blasting through the light just as it turned to red.
“Asshole,” I muttered.
I wasn't talking about any of the other drivers.
Even though she'd Subbed for me more than any other woman, I had no desire to talk to Contessa outside of sex. I didn’t think I’d care for her outside of playroom. Or at least no more than one human being cared about another. I didn’t care for much of anybody, save for Isadora, and I preferred it that way.
There wasn’t anything wrong with Contessa, or any of the other women for that matter. I just didn't care about them outside of that relatively short time span we spent together. I didn’t want to care about them.
What bothered me wasn't my way of thinking, however. It was how easily she'd read me tonight. I didn't like anyone but Isadora, and maybe Doug, to be able to see me at all. I didn't want anyone to read me about this though. The fact that Contessa had been able to meant that this thing with Toni was worse than I'd thought.