Page 5 of Resisting the Temptation (Broken Shelves #3)

Ben

W hen I got an email from Kiera at The Temptation Lounge, I was surprised. I haven’t been to the club in almost six months for various reasons, and even though I thought about attending this weekend to blow off steam, the last thing I wanted was to meet an inexperienced submissive.

Why would I want to teach someone new when I can just play with someone who already has experience and I know I have chemistry with?

Then, I clicked on E’s kink negotiations and reading through them made my cock stir with interest.

She’s unsure about a few of my preferences, which is understandable if she’s new to the lifestyle, but those aren’t deal-breakers for me.

It’s like she was made for me and my desires. Even though I’m not a rash man, I emailed Kiera back with my approval, and we worked out a plan for her to introduce me to my potential new submissive this weekend .

BDSM was something I’ve always been interested in, but my ex was never keen on trying anything outside of some light spanking.

When we broke up, I decided to explore that side of myself instead of traditional dating.

I tried to have the happily-ever-after with someone, and it didn’t work out.

I didn’t want to try again so soon after such a long relationship.

Enter: The Temptation Lounge.

A place I could go where no one tries to make small talk or expect me to make nice with their friends or family.

A place where the expectations are clear and relationships don’t extend beyond the scene.

I don’t have to worry about it bleeding into my work life or having my attention taken away from more important things like it would in a serious relationship.

Exactly what I need before Emma starts on Monday.

Simply thinking her name makes my blood pressure rise.

I’ve spent the last week helping my dad clear out the office we were using as storage for Emma. The other two project managers, Drew and Alex, are wary of a woman joining our group, but my father quickly set them straight. We don’t discriminate based on gender.

There's been high tension at the office with the anticipation of Emma starting, especially after we were denied a bid with the biggest developer in San Diego—again. We’ve been schmoozing the pants off Derek Allridge, but he’s denied us three times, saying he just doesn’t think it’s the right job for us, even though our work speaks for itself .

Tonight will be a much needed release of all this tension and a good way to make sure I don’t snap at Emma simply for existing.

I scan my pass to the underground lot for the club and park, slowly making my way inside.

I’m in an all-black ensemble tonight. My dress shirt is unbuttoned to show off my chest and the gold chain around my neck. My suit jacket is tailored to perfection to fit my broad shoulders.

I haven’t dressed like this in what feels like years, but putting on my “Dom” clothes made it easier to get into the headspace I need to be in for tonight’s activities.

As soon as I walk through the doors of The Temptation Lounge, I’m no longer Ben Rossi, heir to the Rossi Construction legacy.

I’m just B. Experienced Dom, equal parts gentle and rough.

One who likes to bring pleasure to the point of exhaustion.

The worries of my everyday life lift away as sensual music washes over me, and I make my way to the coat check to hand over my phone and my keys.

Daisy, the coat check attendant, smiles as she sees me. “Welcome back, Mr. B.”

“Thank you, Daisy.”

“Are you here for Kiera’s friend?” I give a brief nod, and Daisy’s smile widens. “She’s so lovely. I hope you enjoy your night.”

I appreciate that Daisy doesn’t try to pry any more information from me, but a twinge of irritation tenses my jaw at Daisy knowing who I’m here to meet.

She must sense my irritation because she quickly says, “Kiera asked me to let her know when you arrived so she can adequately prepare her friend, that’s all, I promise. No gossip has been spread about you or Kiera’s guest.”

I let out a breath to relax myself. “I’m sorry if it felt like I was frustrated with you. I assure you I'm not. Thank you for elaborating.”

“Of course.”

I give her a final nod and stride to the bar in the main room.

The space looks like it could be any other bar, with a wood bar top and industrial stools covered in black leather.

Abstract art hangs on the walls, and the lighting is sensual and low.

There are private booths around the edges where people mingle and meet to see if they mesh.

Everyone gathers here before either breaking away into private rooms down one hall or to the voyeur/exhibition areas down another.

The club is busy since it’s Saturday, but I’ve already booked a private room, so I meander to the bar and order two fingers of Macallan on the rocks. I don’t indulge in alcohol often, but I need something to calm the nerves I’m pretending don’t exist.

I can’t pinpoint why I’m nervous, which irks me to no end because I can’t find a way to fix it. I’ve never felt this much anticipation over meeting a new sub, even when I was just starting out as a Dom.

Something about E makes my nerves spike, despite having never met her.

Maybe it’s her kinks and our compatibility, or maybe it’s the gut feeling my dad is always talking about.

I’ve always thought he was talking crazy.

He constantly tells me to trust my intuition, but I go based on logic and numbers.

I’ve never felt a tug in my stomach like I do now .

I spin around on my bar stool and survey the room. My eyes land on a few women I’ve had pleasurable nights with who are looking at me like I’m a piece of ripe fruit, ready to be plucked.

They’re going to be disappointed. My attention isn’t on them for more than a brief glance before I move to the next person. My interest in them is non-existent, my mind is focused on finding the woman I’ll be teaching all about pleasure tonight.

I scan the faces of the women I’m unfamiliar with, but my intuition tells me none of them are E.

It’s not until my eyes slide to the opposite side of the room that I see her. And God, I hope this is E. My gut—the one I’m learning to listen to—tells me it is, but it could just be wishful thinking. She’s like a dream come true.

The woman standing with Kiera barely reaches her chin, her blonde hair is in soft waves, hitting just above her peach shaped ass.

The short, blush pink satin dress she’s wearing hugs her ample tits deliciously and emphasizes her sultry curves.

Her calves look strong in gold heels, and her thighs…

Goddamn I want to take a bite out of them.

Her left arm is covered in black and white tattoos that look like stickers with little pops of color scattered throughout.

Her right arm has a full black and white sleeve with what looks like florals and something else I can’t make out in the low lighting.

Above her right knee is a colorful butterfly, and her button nose glints with a gold piercing in her left nostril .

The black ink on her arms is in juxtaposition to the lightness of her dress and the brightness in her smile, drawing my dark cloud to her sunshine.

I’m on my feet before I realize what I’m doing, tossing the plan I had out the window. All thoughts of being aloof and uninterested until I got her alone are nowhere in sight.

Kiera sees me approaching first and straightens, her eyes going wide. Whatever look flashed across her face is gone, replaced with the professionalism I’m used to.

“Hello, Mr. B. This is E. The woman I was emailing you about.”

E gives me a quick once over before looking down at her shoes, but I catch the faint blush on her cheeks as she averts her gaze.

“Hello, Kiera. Hello, E.”

E looks up hesitantly. “Permission to speak?”

I can’t help the slight upward tilt of my lips. She’s too sweet. “We haven’t set any rules yet, so you don’t need to ask permission.”

She nods, rolling her plush pink lip between her teeth before gifting me with a shy smile. “Hello, Mr. B. It’s lovely to meet you.”

“It’s lovely to meet you, too. If it’s not too presumptuous, I’d love to take you to one of the private rooms so we can chat a bit more without distraction.”

E looks at Kiera who gives her a hesitant nod, then switches once again to professionalism. “I’ll leave you to it. Let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you.”

“Thanks, K,” E says at the same time I say, “Thank you, Kiera. ”

E takes a deep breath before turning to face me, and I’m nearly bowled over by the intensity of her blue eyes.

They’re an azure blue with specks of lighter shades smattered throughout the irises.

They remind me of the ocean when the sun’s reflecting off the waves, sparkling and pure.

They’re accentuated by a thick, precise wing of dark eyeliner and framed by long eyelashes coated in black mascara.

Fuck, I want to see them filled with tears as she gags on my cock. I want her makeup smeared because she’s overwhelmed by the sheer number of orgasms I wring from her curvy body.

Slow down, Ben. She’s new to this. Don’t go overboard with her the first time.

I swallow down the rest of my drink and set the tumbler on a nearby table, then lead her down the hallway to a red door marked with a number four.

There’s a keypad on the door, so I input my unique code and open the door for E, motioning for her to go first. She steps in, and I once again admire the way her satiny dress flows over her hips and the swell of her ass. She spins in a slow circle, taking in the room.

It’s not overly fancy, but it has a four-poster bed with black sheets, two pillows, and a soft black comforter.

The walls are painted a dark gray, and there’s a set of cabinets full of condoms, wipes, and extra sheets.

Along the other side of the wall is a gray leather armchair and a matching chaise lounge.