Chapter 3: Lust

The scene ended with the dominant caressing and helping the submissive to relax after she had surrendered herself completely to him. I heard it being called ‘after-care,’ and it was supposed to be the moment where the dominant would care for the submissive’s physical and mental soreness.

I was feeling heated with the thought of Charles caressing me the same way, and I couldn’t take it anymore. I rushed up in the middle of the people clapping, and headed straight to the bathroom.

The place was empty, so I got myself into one of the cubicles and sat quickly on the toilet, pulling down my panties to discover a wet spot in them. I couldn't understand how I got that carried away. It must be because I’ve never had sex.

Yes, I nodded to myself, it had to be that, I hadn’t had sex in so long, and I wanted to so badly, my body was revealing this by making me wet during the performance. Of course. It had nothing to do with Charles.

I closed my eyes and his face came into my mind, making me squeeze my legs tight together as a consequence, and I felt the arousement from the images invading my mind. Charles was taking over my thoughts and I had to snap from it.

With everything I had within me, I snapped out of the trance I was in, and I got myself back up and straightened my dress, coming out from the stall and looking at myself in the mirror, I saw my flushed cheeks and I splashed some water over them, trying to calm myself some.

I finally walked out, only to bump against a tall man, who held my arms with his hands. “Oh, I am sorry,” I apologized, only to look up and find it was Charles.

He had a look in his eyes, something like a mix of hunger and need. Why?

He reached out and cupped my chin in his hand, caressing my cheek with his thumb, making me blush and feel my legs weak. I was blushing, and I tried very hard to remember how to breathe again.

Instantly, I remembered the images of me submitting for him while I played them in my head at the same time as I was watching the show earlier. I felt angry and hot at the same time, feeling ashamed for how easily I was revealing my need.

“Please, let me go,” I said with all the strength I could muster. “I am not looking for a dominant, I don’t need one,” I continued, convinced my words were sounding true and sincere. “I have a boyfriend already.”

His hand let me go, and he gave a step back, making me feel the absence of his heat already. I started to breathe more evenly then, realizing that he had a stronger effect on me that I initially thought. “What were you doing near the women’s bathroom anyway?”

My questions served as a way to distract myself and regain composure. He smiled, a wickedly dangerous smile that brought up goosebumps in my skin. My body wanted to hear his answer, my mind was afraid of it.

“Don’t worry, I came to tell you I do not touch what is owned. If you had someone, then I would not pursue anything with you.” His voice was calm, the muffed sound of the performers in the main room was almost muted.

I perked a brow and looked at him. “But you still came to find me… didn’t you?” I dared to point out.

“I have seen you here before, and you have been alone,” he started, and his eyes were studying me. “Does your boyfriend have another woman?”

I swallowed hard. Was he reading my mind? Was he aware of what happened to me? Or did I look this pathetic to everyone? I must be looking desperate in his eyes, and it made me want to scream out of frustration.

It made me think of our circle, and how probably everyone knew Max was gay. Did they all know and did not tell me? Were they all enjoying watching me, his real girlfriend, go about life behind him living under the shadow of his truth?

I shook my head, shaking those horrible thoughts away, and focused back on Charles, who kept his eyes locked on me. I reacted without hesitation, and pulled my arm around his neck, getting him closer.

“The alcohol here is good, and I am a bit drunk, but I know exactly what I want to do now,” I whispered, encouraged by the past several drinks.

I felt him tense, but he did not react, he didn’t even grab me, but he did not pull away either. “Oh, what do you want babygirl?” he asked me softly.

Was I going to actually voice out my intentions? No, I wasn’t. I was going to do something better. I pulled him to me, and I kissed him clumsily, letting my actions speak instead of words.

His lips were soft, warm, but I felt his surprise through the kiss. He did not move, even as I pulled back and licked his lips, sucking on the lower one.

I knew I could do better, I had to, so my lips slid down to his throat, and I bit the knot of his throat. That did the trick, he came to his senses and he growled, pushing me to the wall and kissing me hungrily.

His kisses were intense, his lips demanding and hungry against mine. The aggression and possessiveness in his touch thrilled me, igniting a fire within me that had been wanting to come out for far too long.

Each kiss, each caress, seemed to chip away at the emptiness that had settled deep in my soul, replacing it with a warmth that spread through my entire being. It was exhilarating, intoxicating, and I surrendered to the overwhelming sensations, losing myself in the moment. I reveled in the way he took control, his strong hands roaming my body with a fierce possessiveness that made me feel cherished and desired.

Every fiber of my being responded to him, craving his touch, his heat, his kiss. In that moment, nothing else mattered. It was just him and me, and the electrifying connection that sparked between us.

My body molded to his, every curve aligning perfectly as his fingers dug into my hips, pulling me impossibly closer. His lips were a relentless storm, stealing my breath, igniting a fire in my veins. Just as my lungs screamed for air, he pulled back, his eyes dark and dilated, mirroring the hunger in my own. Gasping, we clung to each other, chests heaving, the space between us charged with a potent mix of desire and anticipation. The silence was broken only by the ragged sound of our breathing, and fulfillment.

I leaned over his shoulder, my breasts pressing against his chest, feeling the hard evidence of his desire pulsing against my core. His ragged breath, hot against my skin, sent shivers down my spine, mingling with the intoxicating warmth of my own arousal. His scent filled my senses, making me lightheaded. A wave of pure, raw lust washed over me, fueled by the alcohol coursing through my veins. I wanted him, here, now, with a fierceness that surprised even me.

"I want you," I breathed, my voice barely a whisper. "On top of me."

He hesitated, his grip on my hips tightening. "You're drunk," he murmured, his voice rough with restraint. "I can't take advantage of you like this."

His words were a bucket of cold water, dousing the flames of my desire, if only for a moment. I reached for his belt, my fingers fumbling with the buckle. "I know what I'm doing," I insisted, my voice thick with longing. "Please, Charles."

He captured my hands, his touch firm but gentle. "No," he said, his voice a low rumble. "Not like this."

I met Charles' gaze with defiance sparking in my eyes. "I want someone to make me feel good, right now," I declared, my voice firm. "If you're not interested, then fine." I turned on my heel, faking my leaving, but my heart pounded in my chest. Would he let me walk away?

His hand shot out, encircling my wrist, stopping me. A wide smile tugged at my lips. My little act had worked.

He tugged me, not unkindly, deeper into the dimly lit room, a secluded booth tucked away from the main throng of the club. The shadows around us provided a veil of privacy, a haven from prying eyes, which emboldened me to do more.

His grip on my hand was firm yet gentle, a silent promise and a subtle command. Before I could fully register our new surroundings, he turned to me, his eyes gleaming in the low light. His hand, hot and firm, cupped my cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of my jawline. A shiver of anticipation coursed through me, a delicious blend of fear and excitement.

He leaned in, his breath ghosting across my lips, a tease of what was to come. His lips brushed mine, a light touch that sent a jolt of electricity through my body. He pulled back, a smirk playing on his lips, as if savoring my reaction. Then, he claimed my mouth with a hunger that mirrored my own, his kiss a heady mix of demand and tenderness.

His hands were everywhere, exploring the curves of my body with a need that made me feel wanted and desired. He traced the line of my spine, dipped beneath the hem of my dress, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. I moaned, my fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, desperate for more.

He seemed to see right through me, "Your boyfriend doesn't care about you when you come to a place like this? He's probably got a woman out there."

My silence got the better of Charles.

With a swift, practiced motion, he unbuckled his belt, his arousal straining against the fabric of his pants. My breath hitched in my throat as he freed himself, his impressive length and girth on full display.

As Charles looked at me, his eyes smoldering with a mix of desire and anticipation, my doubts melted away. He reached for me, his large hand engulfing mine, guiding it towards him.

His touch was warm and inviting, dispelling the last vestiges of my hesitation. I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the unknown, and let my fingers trace the length of him, marveling at the heat and power emanating from his core.

A wave of doubt washed over me. Could I really handle this? I had never been with anyone as big as him before. What if I disappointed him?