In Too Deep Read online

  “I wish we could get out of here, right now, love. But you confessed. You’ve never had Greek food so we have to stay for coffee and Bougatsa.

  “Boo-what?” she said with another smile. Her smiles transformed her. They took a beautiful woman and turned her into an ethereal goddess. They made a man dream of ways to make her smile.

  “Vanilla custard baked in Phyllo dough with plenty of cinnamon. And when we are done with the coffee, our server will read our fortunes in the grounds of our cups.”

  “No. Really?” Her face lit with another of those smiles.

  “Really. We have to let the coffee cool. It’s brought to a boil twice before it’s poured into the cups,” he said, once the dessert had arrived. He used his fork like a knife and broke off a piece of the dessert, spearing it with his fork.

  She opened her mouth obediently, a sweet little O shape. His cock would be such a nice fit in that sweet little mouth. He wondered if she had ever taken a man in her mouth before.

  The expression on her face when she tasted the dessert was bliss.

  “That is so fucking good.” She moaned.

  Trick kissed the cinnamon and sugar off her lips, and she moaned even harder into his mouth.

  “We are going to get out of here soon, right?” she asked in a breathy voice that traveled straight to his cock.

  She took her fork and fed him. It was delicious, but he imagined she would taste much better. She leaned over and kissed the sugar off his lips.

  “Can we drink our coffee now, please?” she asked him.

  “Let me try it first,” he said. “I don’t want you to burn your lovely lips off.”

  “Wait, why are you the expendable one? No, if we’re gonna do this, let’s do this at the same time. Ready, give it a blow. Now drink on three,” she commanded. “One, two, three.”

  She took a small sip, and her whole face screwed up. “That is so strong. What is that? It’s stronger than espresso.”

  “You don’t like it?” he asked. “Don’t drink it, love. I’m sorry.”

  “No, I like it, I think. I was just unprepared. Besides, I have to drink it now. I want my fortune read.”

  She downed the rest in one big swallow. She had no idea what thoughts she gave a man.

  “Now what do I do?” She said with a grimace.

  “Swirl your cup three times like this.” He demonstrated with his cup. “Put your saucer over the top. Now turn it over quick.”

  Their server came over a couple minutes later. She picked up Louisa’s cup first. The cup stuck firmly to the saucer.

  “That’s very good,” the girl said to Louisa. “That’s a prophet’s cup. It means your wish will come true.”

  She twisted the cup away from the saucer. I see a tree. That’s a very good sign. Knowledge and change.

  The girl picked up Trick’s cup.

  “You have the same tree,” she said to him. “You two are perfect for each other. Knowledge and growth for you both.”

  “Thank you,” he said.

  He asked for the bill, paid, and added a generous tip. Then he took the beautiful woman on his arm home as quickly as possible.

  He thought briefly about taking her back to his offices. His equipment was there. He didn’t take women to his bed, but he decided he wanted Louisa in his home. Who was he kidding, he wanted her in his bed. He wanted to wake up to her every morning.

  A small part of him wanted to tell her what had happened. He wanted to tell her the whole, awful story and hear her say it was okay, that it didn’t matter. But it did matter, and if it didn’t matter to her now, it would matter to her in a year. He had to let her go. He could enjoy this night with her, but then he had to let her go to someone who could give her what he couldn’t.

  They rode in silence. He shook off his dark thoughts and, instead, focused on planning the next steps of seduction out in his head.

  “Nervous?” he asked her when they stood outside his apartment door.

  “A little,” she admitted,” but I want this. I really, really want this.” Her voice broke with need.

  “I’m a little nervous, too,” he admitted.

  “Really?” She looked so shocked that Trick laughed.

  “Really,” he said. “But I really, really fucking want this, too.”

  He bent down and gave her a reassuring kiss.

  He unlocked the door and held it for her.

  “Come on in, love.”

  Chapter 11

  ***Lou***

  He tugged her coat off and hung it on a rack near the door. He shrugged his off and hung it over the top of hers.

  “Take a look around. I’d take you on the tour, but I have to go upstairs for a couple things. It may be a little messy. Sorry.”

  And then he was gone, leaving her to nose around his apartment.

  Her eyes went immediately to the bag on the floor. She shouldn’t open it. It wasn’t right, but she couldn’t resist peeking into the bag. She couldn’t remember the last time a man had bought her a present. She lifted the tissue paper gently and ran her hand over the fine silk and cashmere of the sweater. She burrowed her fingers down to touch the leggings and felt buttery leather instead. She lifted the tissue gently away from the bundle and saw the neatly wrapped motorcycle jacket sitting on top of the leggings. She would have to give it back. It would be wrong to take it, but it still sent a thrill through her body knowing he would give her a gift like that. Which she had to pretend she hadn’t seen because that would mean she was a nasty snoop. Fuck. Fuckity, fuck. He must really like her to give her such a gift, or was that just a perk of being rich? Wait. Was he even rich? Probably, right? So maybe it meant nothing. Maybe it was like giving a girl flowers.

  She made sure the tissue paper was neatly back in place and set the bag down carefully in the same spot.

  Lou surveyed the living room. It was industrial but still warm. A large round wooden mirror hung on the wall. The bookcases were metal. The sofa and chairs dark brown leather. Bright rugs were scattered over the hardwood floors. In the kitchen, there was a wooden butcher’s table with a granite top and a metal pantry with chicken wire covering the doors. The smell of cinnamon haunted the air.

  A framed series of her favorite Irving Penn portraits hung on the kitchen wall. The small trades. Photographs of the true working class.

  She made her way to the bathroom, which had an enormous claw foot tub and a skylight, when she heard the front door open.

  “Where are you, love?” he called out.

  “The bathroom,” she answered.

  “Stay there a moment, please. I’ll come and get you.”

  She heard furniture moving. Her heart quickened its pace. She felt giddy. She perched on the edge of the tub and waited. The giddiness gave way to nerves. Of all the fantasies she could have given him, because, hell, all she did since she met him was fantasize about him. Why, oh, why did she choose the one that scared her the most? The truth was, while she fantasized about it, she had no idea if she would like the reality of it.

  “Louisa.” His voice pulled her out of her head. She opened the door to the bathroom, and he was standing there looking at her with longing on his face and a leather collar in his hand. He ran his hand through her hair and then stroked her neck from the tip of her ear to her collarbone. He took hold of the simple leather collar and fastened it around her neck like a choker. She should feel dirty, right? Or used. Instead, all she felt was treasured.

  When he was finished, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his chest.

  “For now, you’re mine,” he whispered into her ear. “Mine to pleasure. Mine to punish.”

  The words sent a zingy thrill to her belly.

  He kissed her temple and stepped back.

  “Follow me.” She began to walk behind him on unsteady legs. Lou was so nervous she stumbled.

  “Louisa, I’ve got you.” He was suddenly right beside her. His hand was firm on her upper arm, holding her steady. “You won’t regret
your trust in me.”

  Louisa did trust him. It wasn’t his words; in fact, Lou had learned the hard way that when people said you could trust them it was generally a good sign you shouldn’t. No, it was the look in his eye when he said them. She knew in her gut she could trust him.

  They reached the living room. Louisa looked for the spanking bench but didn’t find it. Instead, the room was dominated by a large wooden X that was anchored to his closet door.

  “Do you like it, love? It’s not a spanking bench; I thought you deserved a few surprises. It’s a St. Andrews cross. I am going to bind your arms and legs, and flog your very wicked, very lovely body. If you take it like a good girl, I think I can find a suitable reward.”

  She couldn’t take her eyes away from it. It was massive and in the same Industrial good taste as the rest of his apartment: all dark leather and metal and highly polished wood. And he was going to strap her to it and flog her

  “Say yes if you understand, Louisa.”

  “Yes.”

  “I know in your fantasy you undressed for me, but I don’t think I can go that long without touching you. May I?”

  Louisa just stared at the gorgeous man in front of her.

  “Louisa, my lovely girl, please tell me it’s alright to undress you.” His voice sounded slightly strangled, and she loved it.

  “Yes,” she said, and then, before she could overthink it, she said what she wanted to say.

  “Do anything to me. Do everything.” The words poured out in a pleading rush, and she felt a little foolish.

  “Oh, Louisa. You have no idea what you’ve just done,” he said roughly.

  “Hands behind your head. Now.”

  Lou’s heart was flipping around in her chest and her pussy was wet. Just his words made her clit ache.

  She put her hands behind her head, and he roughly adjusted them, putting them higher behind her head. The position raised her chest and made her nipples ache.

  “So lovely. Are you excited, Louisa?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “Eyes on me, lovely girl.” He tipped her head up to meet his eyes.

  “God, you’re beautiful,” she muttered. She was so excited she couldn’t stop stupid phrases from slipping from her mouth. Quiet, Louisa. Quiet. Do not ruin the moment.

  “I’m beautiful.” He laughed.

  “You’re perfection,” she murmured.

  “Thank you, love, but you do know you’re the one who’s perfect, don’t you?” he whispered in her ear. Then he bit her lobe, and she yelped.

  He brushed his finger tip over one nipple, and then the other. Then he zipped her hoodie down and pushed it off her shoulders.

  His hands were on her shoulders, so warm. Then he actually bit her neck. So good. So good her knees buckled. She reached out and wrapped her arms around him for support.

  “Trick,” she groaned. “Please, Please, Please. I need you to touch me.”

  “Fuck.” His voice sounded strained. “You make it so hard to keep control,” he muttered.

  Her bra was off in an instant and thrown across the room. His hands were shoving her jeans down her hips.

  “You’re gorgeous, of course, but it’s more than that…. God, I’m so excited I forgot all about your shoes.” He suddenly knelt down and untied them. “Step out of your shoes, love. Hold onto me.”

  Lou did as she was told. Trick took off her socks.

  “You have no filter. I’ve never met anyone who has the balls to say exactly what they are thinking. You really have no idea how sexy it is.”

  Trick kissed her other ankle. Then, with her jeans still pushed down around her hips, he picked her up and carried her.

  “Can’t wait,” he muttered. “We’ll do your arms first.” He stood her back on unsteady feet in front of the X.

  “Shouldn’t I have a safeword?” she asked.

  “How about, ‘stop’?” he asked in a teasing voice. “Seriously, Louisa.” He took her face in both his hands and tilted it up so she was forced to meet his eyes. “Just talk to me, love. If you get nervous, just say so. If it feels good, tell me. If you want me to stop, tell me that, too. And if you changed your mind, that’s alright, too.”

  “No, no,” she said quickly. “I don’t wanna stop. I just got a little scared.”

  She couldn’t tell him what she was really scared of: that this would be the best night of her life and that she would never see him again. She was terrified of the possibly that no one she would date after Trick would ever compare.

  He pulled her arm up so she was on her tip toes and secured her wrist with a lined leather cuff.

  “Alright?” he asked.

  It was better than alright. Lou felt alive. She simply nodded. She was too excited to speak.

  He tugged her other arm into position and cuffed her wrist. Then he shucked off her jeans and pulled her panties off. He cupped her ass with his big hands and planted sloppy kisses on her behind. Then he nipped her ass cheek. Fuck, but that felt good.

  “Beautiful,” he crooned.

  He pulled her leg wide and buckled it to the cross. Lou felt a little embarrassed to be spread so wide. She was on display for a man who was almost a stranger, except he didn’t feel like a stranger. He felt like home. How fucked up was that? Even the weirdest moments felt right. She fought her nerves. She couldn’t say slow down, could she? Not over something as simple as being spread open like this.

  “Need a moment, love?” His hand was suddenly on her back, making gentle strokes.

  What was he, a mind reader?

  “No, I’m alright.”

  “Better than alright,” he said. “Perfection, my beautiful girl bound and spread wide for me.”

  He buckled her other leg securely to the cross, and she was helpless. A brief wave of panic came up. She was truly helpless, all because she liked the idea of something. The idea got her wet when she read it about it in a book, but what if the reality of it fell far short?

  “Louisa, look at me.” He was there again with a hand on her back. “If this isn’t your thing, we’ll find your thing, my brave girl.”

  His hand continued to make soothing circles on her back, but the other hand came up to cup her pussy. His hand on her newly bare pussy felt electric.

  “Louisa, you’re soaking wet for me.” He dipped a finger between her legs. “Oh, Louisa, naughty, naughty girl. I think this is exactly your thing.” He started to stroke her clit with slow, lazy, circles, all the while rubbing her back with steady strokes. “You are so ready for this.”

  He walked away from her, and as she admired his leggy stride, she wondered what his muscular chest would look like without his shirt.

  “Not fair,” she called out to him.

  “What’s not fair, love?”

  “You can see me, all of me, and you still have your shirt on. Take it off.”

  “Do you still think you make the rules?” he said, laughing.

  “Please.” He gave her a stern look, but then he pulled the shirt over his head and it was even better than she imagined. She wanted to reach out and run her hands over his hard planes. A fierce looking bird in vibrant shades of red, orange and gold was tattooed from his ribs to his happy trail, leaving brilliant fire in its wake.

  Louisa wanted to run her hands over him, learn every part of him.

  “Your tattoo is beautiful. What kind of bird is it?”

  “It’s a phoenix, love.”

  “Why did you choose a phoenix?”

  “It’s a story for another day, love.”

  He pulled a black flogger from his drawer. He stood in her line of sight and began to draw intricate circles through the air, in rhythm.

  “This is suede, perfect for your first time. Are you ready?”

  “Yes,” she said, not ready at all but wanting this more than she thought she could want anything.

  “Good girl.”

  His words sent a flush of pleasure through her.

  He walked behind
her, out of her line of sight.

  She braced herself for a blow, but instead, she felt his hands gently running up and down her ribs. Then up and down her spine. For the longest time, she simply felt his warm hands on her body. Up and down, up and down his calloused hands rhythmically stroked her body. Then she felt a gentle tickle and his hands were replaced by the flogger making a gentle tickle up and down her spine. The flogger followed the same lazy motions as his hands.

  When he ran the flogger between her legs, she shuddered with pleasure. She was ridiculously wet. Her skin felt tingly and warm.

  When the first strike came, it took a moment for her brain to register it. Easy. Easier than the spanking. He started a gently rhythm and Lou’s body relaxed into it. First, one side of her butt, then the other. Then light strokes on her back. It was like a massage. She closed her eyes.

  Okay, not a massage. She was starting to realize that was a warmup. Now the strokes were starting to hurt, a not so subtle sting. There was no time to recover. Lou’s body started to tense. She moved in her bonds, trying to find a better position. Tears were starting to form in her eyes.

  “Too much,” Lou called out.

  Trick’s voice was measured. “It’s a punishment, Louisa, and you’re not done yet.” His voice was gentle, but the strokes kept coming—butt, then back.

  “It hurts,” she whispered. Part of her wanted him to stop before she lost control.

  “Louisa,” he paused and held the flogger in both his hands. “It’s supposed to hurt, love. If you really want to stop, say so. Otherwise, your complaints will simply add to your punishment. I don’t think you want it to stop. I think you’re just scared of letting go.”

  He walked over and brushed a finger over the tear rolling down her chin.

  “I think you can finish this, brave girl. You have to stop tensing up, and trying to get away. Let it happen. Embrace it. We both know your fantasy doesn’t end here. Don’t you want to know what happens next, beautiful girl? Shall I keep going or do we stop this?”

  Louisa tried to stop the tears that were flowing down her cheeks.