My body relaxes, and I listen to the music of the club. It’s a sensual rhythm—one made for hips to move against each other, grinding, pulsing, thrusting, sex. I try to imagine that instead of being in a cage across from him, I’m in the middle of that dance floor with Cole. What would I do? How would I touch him? How would I dance for him? I put those thoughts into my head as I begin to move. I use the small space of the cage to my advantage, using the bars to steady myself. Leaning and twisting and pressing. I let myself go and it feels like I become the music, my body an extension of the rhythm moving through the air.

And through everything, Cole watches me, and I watch him. It feels like we’re connected across the space by something visceral and physical. I can feel my wetness running down my legs as I dance, and the longer I’m in the cage, the more aroused I become. I want to earn whatever he has planned for me. Rolling my body against the bars of the cage, I watch as Cole unbuckles his belt and frees his cock. I watch as he begins to stroke himself, his eyes never leaving mine.


He starts slowly, gripping the base of his cock with his fingers and pulling upwards, and then pulling downwards. It’s slow and sensual, and my body instinctually moves with him, rolling and twisting to the tempo of his fingers. And then it’s his whole hand, curling around his shaft, tempo and desperation rising the longer we stare at each other. Even though I’m free and dancing, I feel bound by him—bound by his eyes and his hand and his desire to watch me.

I’m not sure how long we stay like that: Me dancing, Cole stroking. It seems like we’ve been like this for only a few seconds, and also forever.

Cole stands, hand still on his cock. He approaches the cage slowly, and I slow my dance, deliberately teasing him as he approaches. Closer and closer he comes, until he’s standing directly in front of the bars. Until he’s pressed against them, cock reaching through. All it takes is a raised eyebrow from him to send me to my knees. I know how I’m going to earn my freedom.

I reach out to touch him, running my fingers along his skin and tracing everything from the head to the base. He hisses out a breath and I grin up at him. If he’s going to make me earn my freedom, then I’m going to make sure I tease him. I brush my lips across the tip, just touching. It’s a split second decision, but I decide to do everything slowly—I want him in delicious agony.

The tip of my tongue draws a slow line around his head, dragging across the top, tasting the salty precum already leaking from him. I draw lines up and down his shaft, lapping at his skin as slowly as I can. Glancing up, I see that Cole’s eyes are closed and his hands are fisted around the bars of the cage. He’s gripping the metal so hard that his knuckles are white, and I smile because I know that my plan is working.

I take him into my mouth a millimeter at a time, moving forward and back slow and steady. My lips drag at his skin, and I love the feel of him, the taste. I love the look on his face of utter bliss. Heat streaks through me down to my pussy. I may not have known I’d like any of the things here at Club Deep, but I’ve always loved this. Using your mouth on someone is so intimate and so personal. It’s entirely about the other person’s pleasure, the ultimate act of sexual giving.

One of Cole’s hands lands in my hair, fingers weaving in and holding on. He urges me faster, and I resist. I suck him deeper a little at a time, and he groans in frustration. I laugh, letting him feel the vibrations on his skin. He chose this, he has to live with it. But as I take him deeper, suck him harder, I start to move faster. I match my mouth to the rhythm of the music surrounding us, and Cole groans. His fingers grip harder in my hair and the sounds coming from him roll across my skin in shivers.

His breath goes short and there’s a moment where I feel him take control, and I let him have it. He guides me down deeper onto his cock, groaning. I look up at him, and he opens his eyes. I see something change in his eyes and he pulls me off his cock. “Stand up. Turn around. Bend over.” Cole’s voice is rough, brimming with urgency and restraint as he tells me what he needs. I do as he says, pressing my ass against the cage. It’s small enough that I can grab the other side and use it to steady myself.


Tags: Penny Wylder Club Deep Billionaire Romance
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