Gabriel

 

The woman at the bar intrigued me.

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No, scratch that. She fascinated me.

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It wasn’t her beauty, although she was goddamn stunning with her curly dark hair, smooth skin, and a body with curves in all the right places.  Nor was it her age.  True, she was older than most of the women at the club tonight, but there were women in their forties, fifties, and sixties who came to the Sapphire on a regular basis.  Hell, every Wednesday night was cougar night, and despite the ridiculous name, it was our most popular night.

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What caught my attention from across the room was how out of place she looked. She was a woman playing a game of dress-up and failing spectacularly.  Sitting beside her at the bar, I could practically feel the tension that surrounded her in a thick bubble. 

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She didn’t want to be here, so why was she?

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The bartender, Jake, stopped in front of me.  “Hello, Gabe.  Your usual?”

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“Yes, please,” I said.  “And another of whatever the lady is having.”

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He nodded and walked away as the woman said, “I won’t fuck you just because you buy me a drink.”

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I grinned, and the woman’s jiggling right leg intensified.  “Noted.  What’s your name, pretty girl?”

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“Maeve,” she said.

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“I’m Gabriel,” I said.

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Her eyes widened just a bit, and she stared at the retreating backs of Blaine and the sub he’d chosen for the night.  Her cheeks pink, she said, “Nice to meet you.”

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“Likewise, Maeve.”

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Jake returned with our drinks, and I sipped at mine.  I watched as Maeve took a healthy swallow of wine, her gaze scanning the room.  When her pretty hazel eyes finally landed on me again, I said, “Why are you here, Maeve?”

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“I think that’s kind of obvious,” she said, yanking on the hem of her dress before scanning the room again.

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“You don’t belong here,” I said.

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Her gaze snapped to mine, fire in her eyes, and her body going stiff.  “Why?  Because I’m not a beautiful twenty-year-old?  Older women aren’t allowed to have kinks?”

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Her attitude made me itch to discipline her.  To bend her over my knee right there at the bar and spank her ass until it was a beautiful red and she knew without a doubt that sassing me was most definitely not allowed.

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Easy, asshole.  This is not a play scene, and she’s not here for that.

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I knew that, but I couldn’t help my response.  I was a Dom, after all.  My voice low, I said, “Speak to me with that tone again, pretty girl, and my handprints will cover your ass for a week.”

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My expectation that she’d be even more furious at my words disappeared when her cheeks turned bright red, and her gaze dropped to her lap.  “Sorry, sir.”

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My dick immediately hardened.  Fuck, she was submissive.  Even if she didn’t realize it.  Which she most certainly did not.  She’d already lifted her head to stare at me, shock written all over that pretty face of hers over her response.  Her reaction had been instinctive, and somehow, that made it even hotter.

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I nodded, and still using my Dom voice, I said, “Tell me why you’re here.”

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“I’m looking for a man named Brent.  He’s a Dom here,” she said.

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“There isn’t a Dom named Brent at this club,” I said.

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“There is,” she insisted, that right leg jiggling wildly.

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“I know all of the Doms here, and there isn’t a Brent,” I said.

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“You’re wrong,” she said.

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I stared at her, and she flushed and glanced at her lap again.  “I know Brent comes here.”

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“Why do you want to speak with him?” I asked.

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“That’s none of your business,” she snapped before she swallowed hard.  “He has to be here.”

Her leg was still shaking, and I reached out and placed my hand on her thigh to still the ceaseless movement.  “Maeve, there isn’t…”

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I forgot what I was going to say the instant my hand touched her skin.  Heat shot up my arm, and what felt like a very cliche surge of electricity rocketed straight to my cock.  I stared silently at her, my dick roaring to life and every part of me suddenly aching to make this woman mine.

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She felt the connection as well.  I could see it in her eyes, in how her mouth dropped open, and in her body tensing under my hand.  She stared at my hand resting on her thigh, her voice hoarse when she said, “Gabriel?”

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My name on her lips was sweet music.

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“Would you like to join me in a private room, pretty girl?”  I rasped.  I felt lightheaded and a little faint, probably because all my blood was currently in my dick.  It pressed against my jeans, thick and aching and already dripping pre-cum, desperate to be deep inside the woman sitting across from me.

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“I…” She wet her lips.  “I’m, um, a newbie.”

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“I know,” I said.

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Her gaze meant mine, and I would have happily drowned in their pretty depths for the rest of my life.

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“I… I’m not submissive,” she said.

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“Aren’t you?”  I challenged.  I smoothed circles with my thumb on her inner knee, and she immediately clamped her legs shut.

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“I don’t like being told what to do,” she said.

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“Being my submissive isn’t just about doing what I say.”

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“Isn’t it?” she asked.  “Because it kind of seems like it might be.”

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I grinned, my hand still resting on her warm thigh and my cock still hard as a fucking stone.  “That’s part of it.  But the bigger part is learning to be my good girl and how being my good girl will bring you pleasure.”

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“Bring you pleasure, you mean,” she scoffed.

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I slid off my stool, keeping my hand on her leg as I moved until my body was pressed against her closed knees.  “No, pretty girl, you.  Your pleasure.  Your soft cries as you come on my cock over and over.  Your voice begging for more.”

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I traced a finger down the length of her throat.  “I would very much like to see my collar on you.”

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I was moving too fast, saying too much for a newbie, but I couldn’t control my sudden desire to have this woman on her knees in front of me, my collar around her neck, and her pretty mouth wrapped around my thick cock.

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“I’m not interested,” she whispered.

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“Are you sure?”  I squeezed her thigh before tracing her bottom lip with my thumb.  I smiled in satisfaction when her lips parted and a soft moan escaped from between them.

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“I can make you feel so good, Maeve,” I said.  “Let me.”

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Her bottom lip quivering, she said, “I can’t… I mean, I don’t…”

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“You don’t what?”  I smoothed her hair back from her face before sliding my thumb along her bottom lip again.  “Tell me.”

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“I don’t come easily,” she said.  “Especially not with a stranger.”

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“Let me prove you wrong,” I said.  I slid my hand to her tightly closed knees.  “Open.”

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“What?” she blinked at me.

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“Open your legs for me, Maeve,” I said. 

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Her gaze flickered around the room.  There wasn’t anyone right beside us at the bar, but we were in a room crowded with others.  Of course, more than a few of them were doing things far more scandalous than me sliding my hand up Maeve’s skirt. 

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“There are people everywhere,” she said.

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“I know.  Open for me.”

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She blinked at me, but when I leaned down to kiss her, her lips were warm and soft, and they immediately parted.  She accepted my tongue with a sweet submission that made every part of me burn with hot need.

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I wanted to strip her naked right there, but instead, I kissed her deeply, tasting the tartness of the wine on her tongue as her body arched into mine.  I squeezed her knee and murmured, “Open for me,” against her lips.

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Her legs parted, and I crowded close, pushing my body between her thighs so she couldn’t close them again and caging her in with one hand against the bar behind her.  She stared wide-eyed at me, her lips already a little swollen from my kisses, and a small red mark on her chin from my beard.

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I slipped my hand under her tight dress, stroking her satiny inner thighs as I held her gaze.  “Wider, pretty girl.”

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Her legs fell open even more, and I smiled my approval.  “That’s my good girl.”

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I touched her pussy, surprised by the material that covered it.  She’d worn panties to a sex club?  Her innocence only inflamed me more, and I traced my finger over the silk, smiling my approval when I felt its dampness.

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“You’re wet for me,” I said.

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“No… no, I’m not,” she whispered.

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“You are,” I said.  I slid my fingers under the material, liking how Maeve gasped and grabbed my arm as her hips rocked against my touch.  I swiped my fingers against her pussy before pulling my hand out from under her skirt and showing her how wet they were.

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“You see, pretty girl.  Wet for me.”