Poisonous Kiss: Chapter 5

The orgy has only escalated when I step back into the main lounge. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh and moans of pleasure fill the air as the participants in the middle of the room writhe and thrust.

What are you doing?

I should leave. The gutsy, devil-may-care attitude I just had out in the main lobby disappears completely once I’m fully immersed again in the dark eroticism of this place. Very quickly, a sense of outsider syndrome creeps into my psyche.

You don’t belong here.

A waiter drifts by with a tray of champagne. Flushed, I grab a flute and take a greedy sip to calm my nerves. My eyes swivel around the room, widening as I drink in the dark and sultry scene unfolding around me.

No. That’s not why I came back.

I’m on a reconnaissance mission. I’ve spent the last twenty-four hours thinking nonstop about the NDA Christina showed us, and this insane “fake wife audition” Gabriel is apparently hosting tomorrow.

It’s not that I want to do it. But I’ve come to the sobering conclusion that I don’t have a choice.

There is no other way to pull five million dollars out of my ass in the next three and a half weeks before that psychopath with the sword starts hacking dad and I into pieces.

A small part of me did feel betrayed when I learned the truth about my dad and his background. But gradually, that betrayal has turned into a fierce love. Yes, I was lied to—about where I came from, and his past, even how my mom died. But I know he did it all to protect me. To give me a new life away from the violence he’d grown up in.

I could be angry that my dad stole a ton of money so many years ago, and now because of that, our lives are in danger. But how can I be angry that my dad gave up everything he had and risked it all to get that money and use it to allow us to escape from that world?

That’s why I’m going to this audition tomorrow.

It’s my turn to repay the debt.

My eyes scan the room, searching for the black and gold devil mask and the man beneath it.

What’s he here for?

I mean, yes, I know he’s wearing the black and red wristband, and I know what that means. But is that really why Gabriel Black is at Club Venom tonight? Because Mr. Roboto is secretly a Dom into sadomasochism?

Or is he looking for a wife?

My jaw tightens.

Shit. What if that is what he’s here for? What if he’s getting a jump start on…or hedging his bets for…this audition tomorrow, and he’s here looking for some woman who’ll take that four million dollars before I can make my play tomorrow⁠—

“You look lost, little kitten.”

In half a second, my breath sucks in, my spine jerks upright, and my thighs clench. The color drains from my face as the words growl and purr from behind me into my ear. I can feel his presence—an impossible mix of heat and the utter absence of it, like a black hole—right at my back. The slightly spicy, clean scent of him with a hint of bergamot teases over my nose.

Little kitten?

Then I remember that my mask has cute little cat ears at the top edge of it.

Just the same, the way he says “kitten”, it doesn’t feel like a cutesy pet name.

It feels like a predator warning its prey that it’s dinnertime. And that’s a sensation I’m not sure should make me quite as warm and tingly as it does.

“I—”

I gasp sharply as his hand wraps around my neck from behind. It’s not that tight, and not really threatening. But it does feel possessive. Like I’m something that belongs to him, and he’s reminding both me and everyone else around us of the fact.

“Don’t talk,” Gabriel murmurs into my ear, making me shiver as heat teases down my spine. “I have other plans for your mouth.”

Holy. GOD.

My eyes bulge, and I’m infinitely thankful that I’m facing away from him, lest he see how hard he just rattled me.

You could end this now.

I’m aware of the rules here. Red and gold wristband or not, at any point, anyone can walk away from anyone else and any act they don’t wish to participate in. I could so easily turn around and awkwardly let him know, hi, it’s me, Fumi, your employee, I’m here for a business thing. I could plead ignorant on my choice in wristbands, take the massive awkwardness and embarrassment hit, and slink off.

I don’t.

I don’t want to end this.

Not yet. I’m way too curious now.

“Just listen, kitten.”

I shiver, feeling his strong, veined fingers tease over my throat.

“I have a private room,” Gabriel purrs into my ear. “I’m going to take you there and put you on your fucking knees. Then I’m going to punish you.” He leans in close, and when his teeth graze over my earlobe, my legs turns to jelly.

“I’m going to hurt you.”

My breath gets shaky. My skin tingles all over, and I’m acutely aware of my nipples hardening against the silky material of the black cocktail dress I’m wearing.

What he just said should terrify me. It should send me running, or at the very least, disgust me.

It doesn’t.

And I know damn well why.

When I first heard about Venom, and especially after I came here for that first time with Taylor and saw with my own eyes what it was, I felt a spark of something ignite inside of me. I’ve spent years hiding the dark, depraved fantasies I harbor deep inside of me. Locking them away, not showing them to anyone.

Those are for me and me alone. Partly because of the shame that comes with them. Partly because of the fear of what those desires even mean, given what happened to me when I was nineteen.

But after I came here, part of me wondered…

Could this be the place to explore that part of myself? I mean, it would be insane to go find someone at a bar, or even on Tinder, and then try to casually insert into conversation that your fantasy is to be tied up. Hurt. Used.

Insane, and dangerous as fuck. I mean I’m interested in sadomasochism, not being murdered.

But Club Venom could be the place to explore it. A place where I can wear a mask, and not be regular Fumi, and allow myself to open that black door deep inside me to discover what it feels like to indulge in my ultimate fantasy.

Of course, I never have, because I’m a chicken.

But when I feel his fingers splay across my throat, feel the heat of him against my back and hear his dark voice in my ear… When he growls “I’m going to hurt you”… I don’t feel fear.

I feel excitement.

Nervous, anxious, needy excitement.

“Don’t speak,” Gabriel growls. “Just nod or shake your head.”

My throat bobs under his fingers. My pulse races. Slowly, I nod my chin up and down.

“Good girl.”

His hand slips from my neck. He moves slowly around me, sliding into my peripheral vision before stepping in front of me. His eyes linger on mine, and for a second, I panic.

What if he can tell?

It’s not like Gabriel and I are close. And it’s not like we work directly with each other that often. Plus, I’m wearing a mask and the wig. But when his eyes stab into me, still I shiver, wondering if he knows.

If he sees behind the mask.

His head tilts slightly to the side, his eyes narrowing on me. Again, I get the vibe of a predator sizing up its prey before the chase begins.

I take a shaky breath, unable to stop my lip from retreating between my teeth as my gaze slides over his devil mask.

Finally, Gabriel nods, his lips curling darkly.

“Come.”

My heart begins to hammer as he takes my hand. We walk right past the orgy, my skin tingling and the blood roaring in my ears. Gabriel leads me through a doorway and into a dimly lit, matte black hallway. We round one corner, then another, moving past doors with the viper emblem on them, until we finally come to a stop in front of one.

My mouth goes dry as Gabriel opens the door.

Holy shit.

The room is dark and moodily lit, with blood red walls, black wooden floors, and dark leather couches. A crimson duvet with the gold emblem of a viper on it is spread across a black iron-framed bed. I swallow as my gaze slides across the room, finally landing on a dark wood console to one side with neat rows of…toys laid across it.

Things that make that savage, needy, deviant beast inside of me stretch awake and purr.

A riding crop. A paddle. A whip. Plugs of various sizes. An enormous black rubber dong. Clamps of some kind. Leather cuffs, lengths of rope, a ball-gag, and a blindfold.

For a second, I’m torn. On one hand, I’m terrified that I am in way over my head. Fantasy is one thing, same as the dark and perhaps shameful internet porn that I watch from time to time.

But living it for real, in an actual kink club with a man I am quickly realizing I don’t know in the least, is another thing altogether.

On the other hand…

I shudder when Gabriel’s hand lands on the small of my back—firm, but not pushy. I can feel the heat of him standing close behind me, and when my eyes flick back to the table with the implements, an icy tingle creeps up my spine.

There’s no going back now. And even if there was, I don’t want to go back.

I ignore the sirens blaring in my head. I shove down the voice screaming that this is my fucking boss. My gaze shifts to the coils of dark nylon rope, the cuffs, the ball-gag on the table. I shiver as something inside me begs me to remember the last time a man immobilized me.

To bring me back to the fear, and the darkness, and the feeling of being utterly helpless…and not in a good way.

This is different, I want to scream at myself.

HOW, the voice inside screams back.

It’s my choice this time, I answer.

I swallow as the pressure of Gabriel’s hand on my back ushers me into the room. The sound of the lock on the door clicking has me sucking in my breath, my face tingling as my nipples tighten.

“I’ll ask you once again, kitten,” he rasps into my ear. “Do. You. Want. To. Be. Here.”

My head nods up and down.

“Good girl.”

My teeth sink into my bottom lip as he moves past me, strolling casually across the room to the dark leather couch. Gabriel casually removes his jacket, folds it neatly, and drapes it over the arm. My skin hums with an electric current as he slowly undoes his cuff and rolls the sleeves of his dress shirt in neat, practiced motions up to the elbow. The sinewy muscles of his forearms ripple, the veins throbbing right under his skin as he turns to me.

“Come here, kitten.”

I tremble, but my feet start to move.

“Right there.” He indicates a spot in the center of the room. Dutifully, biting my lip hard to stop myself from shaking, I walk to where he points.

“Turn around.”

Heat pools between my thighs as I do as I’m commanded. When I feel him step closer to me, I tense.

“The safe word is freeze,” he growls against the shell of my ear. “Nod if you understand.”

My chin nods up and down quickly.

“Good girl.”

I gasp audibly as the back of his index finger traces up my bare arm. It suddenly occurs to me that even though I’ve worked at Crown and Black for almost three years, tonight is the first time Gabriel’s ever touched me—first the hand wrapped around my throat, now the sensual feel of his finger dragging higher and higher up my arm.

The finger hooks under the strap of my cocktail dress. He tugs, and my heart lurches before his hand melts away. His footsteps behind me retreat to the side, over to the console table. I turn, my gaze following his hand as it hovers over a plug, and then a pair of nipple clamps. I shiver when he moves his hand over the comically enormous dildo, and my insides clench. Then slowly, his hand moves over to the black leather blindfold.

That’s what he chooses.

He turns, and I feel my body throb as his greenish-hazel eyes with the gold flecks momentarily meet my dark ones.

“Face forward, kitten,” he growls tightly.

I nod, quickly obeying. Gabriel moves behind me again, and the blindfold slips over my mask, covering the eyeholes and turning my world black.

My pulse skyrockets⁠—

No. This isn’t that place. He isn’t that man.

I’m in control this time. I can stop this any time with the safe word.

Deep down, I know that’s why I gravitate to the sort of fantasies I do. My choice in porn, when I watch it, is women in scenarios that were once my actual living nightmare.

Because fantasy is a great way to expel the trauma of reality. With porn, I can hit the pause button. Here tonight, a safe word stops the whole thing.

Yes, I can tell myself these things a hundred times. But when I feel the blindfold tighten around my face, and I feel his hand slip under the strap of my dress again, I can’t help but tremble.

“Are you scared of me, kitten?”

I swallow, wondering how I should answer that. But slowly, my head shakes side to side.

“Not yet, you’re not. You will be.”

Fuck. Me. Why the hell is that so fucking hot? Before I can think any more on it, my body jolts as he slips one strap of my dress off my shoulder. His finger traces lightly over my back, moving up to the other shoulder. That strap slips away too, and suddenly, my breath is quickening as the little black dress slips off me to pool around my stilettos.

I inhale sharply at the dark purr of approval from his throat. His hand slides down my bare back, and his fingers slip under the lacy edge of my thong. My pulse roars as he tugs the panties down over my ass. Every cell in my body screams at me to yell the safe word at the top of my lungs and end this insanity that I’ve blundered into before I go any deeper.

But I don’t.

I’ve spent years imagining this darkness. Staring into it. Fantasizing about diving into the abyss before my fear could rip me back from the edge. And now, for the very first time, I’m dipping my toes into the inky void.

So I’m not stepping back from the edge. Not yet.

Gabriel lowers himself behind me. I can feel his breath on the backs of my thighs as he lifts one leg and then the other, slipping my panties off over my feet but leaving my heels on.

He stands again. Suddenly, something wraps around my throat. I jolt, gasping loudly as I feel metal and leather tight against my skin as something clicks into place at the nape of my neck.

Fucking hell. I think he just put a collar on me.

I let out a whimper as I feel his lips an inch from my ear.

“I’ve been gentle so far, kitten,” he growls quietly.

His hand slips around my throat, sliding up to cup my jaw as his body presses hard against my back.

“Remember that safe word,” he rasps darkly. “I’m done being gentle.”

Without warning, fire erupts across my bare ass. It takes me a second to register the spank and realize he’s just smacked my ass, hard. His open palm comes again, thwacking smartly against my other cheek and ripping a cry from my throat.

He laughs quietly and darkly against my ear.

“You’re not done yet, are you, kitten?”

I shake my head quickly side to side, my pulse thundering in my ears.

“Better. Not. Be,” he murmurs, stepping around to my front. His fingers slide down the valley between my breasts and then up one slope to pinch one of my nipples without warning. I whimper sharply, gasping as he twists the throbbing peak between his thumb and forefinger. Pain and pleasure ripple through my body as he moves to the other nipple and gives it the same rough, brutal treatment.

“Shit…” I moan as he starts to use both of his hands to maul, twist, and tease my nipples, until my vision is swimming behind the blindfold and slick heat coats my thighs.

“Did I say you could make a fucking sound.”

I tense, my heart rate spiking.

“Did. I.” he breathes.

Is he fucking serious? Does he seriously equate a moan to me talking against his order⁠—

FUCK!

I yelp loudly and fire explodes through my breast as he slaps my nipple. Then, as the initial sting fades, it’s replaced with something I’ve never once felt before: a heated throb that twists and writhes under my skin until my thighs are clenching together.

“I asked you a fucking question, kitten.”

He slaps my other nipple, making me yelp again as pure liquid fire explodes through my core.

Quickly, I shake my head side to side.

“And yet,” he rasps, circling me like a shark sensing blood in the water, “you still open that fucking mouth.”

Suddenly, something presses to my lips. They part in confusion, then my brows furrow as something soft and lacy pushes into my mouth, gagging me.

Sweet fucking God, he just fucking gagged me with my panties.

Gabriel moves behind me again. This time, when he spanks my ass, my moans are muffled by the lace.

“Get on your fucking knees,” he growls against my ear. “Now.”

Shaking, my pulse thundering and my head spinning, I lower myself to my knees as instructed. His hands cup my breasts from behind, and I whimper as he roughly pinches and twists my nipples again.

His hands drop, and when they come back up, I gasp as something cold slips over my right nipple.

And then tightens.

Hard.

I squeal into the lace, writhing as the clamp pinches my nipple in sweet agony. The bite of the second one on my left nipple has my head spinning and pure need leaking between my thighs.

I know there’s a safe word that gets me out of this. I know I can end this.

…I’m not going to. Not yet. Because although this is one of the most terrifying moments of my life, it’s also perhaps the single hottest. Although the adrenaline and fear rip through my veins like napalm, the throbbing, needy heat between my thighs has me aching for more.

I gasp as both clamps tug my nipples at the same time, like they’re connected by a handle or a chain that he’s pulling.

“What. An. Eager. Little. Slut.”

There are words we’re told are bad. Just like there are desires we’re told are bad even to think about. Words like slut or whore. Desires like being hit, or punished, or hurt.

They’re words and desires that I’ve never explored with anyone—out of shame, and fear of judgment, and fear of men in general.

But tonight, I’m letting go. I want to tell myself that it’s because I know Gabriel. That even though the man spanking me, and slapping my nipples, and choking me with my own panties is this nuclear level Dom right now, I know him as the strict but normal Gabriel Black, attorney at law. As the control freak boss who never dates because he’s married to his job. As the man who’s famous for his zeal for justice and representing the little guy.

Except, suddenly, I’m not so sure I do know “the real” Gabriel Black.

Maybe, after three years of knowing him, I’m only actually meeting the real Gabriel tonight.

I whimper as he tugs the clamps again.

“Hands behind your back. Now, my little fuck toy.”

The way he’s talking to me is insane. And yet, I’m hanging off every word, eagerly anticipating what filthy, unspeakable thing he’s going to say next.

My hands reach behind to the small of my back. When I feel the metal cuffs click around them, my pulse skips.

“You can end this any time, kitten,” he purrs. “Say the word, and this is over. Like”—he snaps his fingers loudly right by my ear—“that.”

The room goes pin-drop silent. I can feel his eyes on me, daring me to chicken out.

Not. Fucking. Happening.

“Careful, kitten,” he murmurs after a few seconds. “You might run out of chances to get away soon.”

Good God.

“Spread your legs.”

My heart pounds. I wince against the hardwood floor as I spread my knees. Suddenly, his hand is cupping my bare pussy. I gasp sharply, moaning into the lace as he drags a thick finger up through my lips.

“So. Fucking. Wet,” he murmurs darkly. “What a messy, greedy little whore you are, kitten.”

I yelp as he slaps one of my breasts again. Then he suddenly sinks two fingers deep into me. My eyes behind the mask and the blindfold flare, my body shaking and clenching around him as his thick fingers curl against my g-spot.

He slides them out, then instantly rams them back in. I cry out as lewd, wet, squelching sounds fill the room as Gabriel roughly fingerfucks me. The pressure and the pleasure build inside me, ratcheting higher and higher until I’m sure he’s going to make me explode.

Which is exactly when he removes his fingers.

“Greedy girl.”

His footsteps move away. For a horrible second, I wonder if this is his thing—getting me so achingly close and then just leaving. Then I hear the rustle of the objects on the table.

“I wonder if you could take the large one,” he muses quietly.

My chest heaves as I remember the dildo the size of my fucking arm on the table.

“I wonder what your greedy, tight little cunt would look like stretched around it while you struggled to take it all.”

Fuck me.

“Perhaps next time,” he growls meditatively. He walks over and tugs at the clamps again, making me whimper before his hand once again slips between my thighs. I moan eagerly as two fingers sink into me, roughly fingering me before they slide back out. Something slick and rubbery eases against my pussy lips, then pushes into me. It nestles right against my g-spot, with a second part resting outside my body against my clit. It stays there when he pulls his hand away.

Suddenly, it starts to vibrate.

Oh shit.

I whimper into my panty gag, writhing on my knees.

“If you come before I say you can, kitten,” he rasps darkly, “there’ll be hell to pay. Nod if you understand.”

I moan, drool soaking the panties in my mouth as I nod eagerly. I feel him walk behind me. A yelp rips from my throat as he spanks a palm against one ass cheek, then the other. Suddenly his hand slips between them, sinking lower.

I tense.

“No?” He chuckles darkly. “You don’t get to say no, kitten,” Gabriel growls. “You can say the safe word and all this stops, or you can shut your mouth and be a good little slut for me. Which is it?”

I shiver, but say nothing.

“Good girl.”

Suddenly, the vibrations against my clit and my g-spot intensify. I start to moan into the lace, my body shuddering and clenching as his finger eases against my tight back hole. Then, slowly, it sinks into me.

Sweet fucking God.

It makes me feel so fucking full and so fucking dirty in a way that has my skin tingling. Gabriel spanks my ass again, fingering my asshole as the vibrations in my pussy get stronger and stronger.

He slips his finger out of me, and immediately, I feel something much harder and slicker pushing against my tight ring. I sputter as what feels like a thin, curved metal toy pushes past any resistance to sink into my ass. My eyes bulge as it twists its way up my asshole. And when I feel him attach what feels like the other end of it to the cuffs at my back, I realize it’s got a smooth metal hook of some kind.

I yelp as he swats my ass again, reaching around to tug the clamps on my nipples as he stands. Slow steps bring him in front of me. I flush, whimpering into my panties at the feeling of the hard toy hooked deep into my ass and the vibrator making my thighs shake.

The pulsing vibrations get even harder and faster. I moan, my arms jerking slightly. The movement tugs at the toy in my ass. Fucking hell. It’s attached to the cuffs around my wrists.

“Such a pretty little fuck toy you are, kitten,” he murmurs darkly. “But I still don’t think you’re quite full enough.”

I gasp, drool dripping down my chin and onto my breasts as he pulls the panties from my lips.

“Let’s fix that, shall we?”

I hear the sound of his zipper. My pulse races as he steps closer.

“Open your mouth, kitten.”

I’m so close. I know I’m not supposed to come until he says so, but the vibrations rumbling though my core are coming too hard and fast.

My mouth opens and I whimper as his swollen head presses against my lips. Then his hand wraps around my throat, and suddenly, his hips press forward.

Holy fuck.

My lips stretch. My jaw suddenly opens as wide as it can. But even so, I’m suddenly acutely aware of something:

Gabriel’s cock is fucking huge.

And he’s not being gentle with it.

I shudder, moaning around his massive cock as he pushes into my mouth. He draws back out, and taps the swollen head against my tongue.

“So. Fucking. Pretty on your knees, kitten,” he murmurs. “Now open your mouth wide so that I can fuck it.”

He grabs a fistful of my wig. For a terrifying moment, I’m worried it’ll come off. But my mask and his blindfold are tight around it, keeping it in place. He groans, and then I’m moaning and sputtering as his cock rams into the back of my throat. I gag, drool dripping down my chin and onto my nipples as he slides out and then thrusts right back in.

This is so wrong. Dirty. Demeaning. Letting a man put me on my knees, tie my hands behind my back and fuck my mouth until spit drips down my face is, objectively, exactly the sort of demeaning, degrading, “dirty” act I know I should hate.

The problem is, I don’t.

…I’m loving it.

It’s all of it: the surrender of control. Submitting to him utterly and letting him use me. I mean, yes, him thrusting into my mouth like it was my pussy does make me feel dirty and degraded. But those feelings don’t make me feel like shit.

They make me want to come harder than I’ve ever come in my life.

“Good fucking kitten,” Gabriel groans, pumping his thick, swollen cock in and out of the back of my throat. “Such a pretty little slut choking on my big, fat cock.”

I moan, gagging and drooling and whimpering on his cock as my mind goes numb. My body turns to molten fire and the throbbing, needy ache between my legs becomes the entire focus of my universe.

I need to come.

I need. To. Fucking. COME.

My body tenses. I can feel my arms straining, tugging at the hooked toy in my ass as the vibrator against my clit and g-spot push me to the bleeding edge of my sanity. Gabriel groans, thrusting roughly into my mouth as he holds me by a hank of hair with the other hand wrapped around my throat.

“You’re going to make me fill this pretty little slut mouth with my cum, kitten,” he grunts.

I moan around him, slobbering and choking as my eyes roll back behind my mask.

“You’re being such a good girl. Such a good, eager little whore.”

Oh fuck. Oh fuck. OH FU⁠—

“Come for me, kitten.”

It honestly feels like I’m having a seizure. My entire body jerks and spasms, shaking as the release explodes through my core. Stars dot the blackness in front of my eyes. My back arches and my thighs shake as wave after wave of the biggest orgasm of my life slam through me.

Impossibly, Gabriel’s thick, hot cock swells even bigger. With a grunt, he pulls out of my gasping, drooling, messy mouth. I moan as hot ropes of cum splatter against my face, my lips, and on my outstretched tongue before dripping onto my chest.

With a dark, rasping growl, he buries his cock in the back of my mouth, letting me taste him as he empties his balls down my throat.

There are things we’re not supposed to like.

Desires we’re not supposed to seek out.

Words we’re not supposed to crave.

And suddenly, for the first time, I’m guessing the reason we’re told these things. Because now that I’ve peeked behind the curtain? Now that I’ve tasted the fruit from the tree I’m not supposed to go near, and explored the darkest parts of myself I’m not meant to discover?

Now, I’m not sure I can ever go back to “normal” ever again.