Seducing Raven

“There are a hundred things I could do,” Raven said as he turned the car’s ignition. “To attract attention as I drive. Hazard lights, erratic driving, breaking suddenly… A police car pulls by, and suddenly you and Shadow back there are under arrest for kidnapping me.”

“Yeah,” she grinned. “But you are not going to do that, are you, Raven?”

No, he agreed ruefully, he wasn’t going to do that. He wanted to see what she would do next. He wanted her to do him again.

“Where are we going?” He asked.

“Your place,” she grinned at him.

“Alright,” he had a moment where he found himself regretting not making the bed that morning. He was being kidnapped, he reminded himself, not bringing a date back to his place for a bit of a tumble. But, man, he hoped there was a tumble involved. “Is this another audition?”

Shadow chuckled.

Vixen licked her lips and smirked, reaching over into his lap, her nails rasping the knap of his jeans as she stroked up the inside of his thigh. “Someone is hopeful.”

“F-k,” Raven muttered as he entered the underground carpark of his building and parked in his space. His hard on was f-king straining his fly. Very professional, Raven, he snidely scolded himself.

Shadow got out on the driver’s side, leaning against the car whilst he waited for Raven to get out. He was wearing denim and a band t-shirt, like Vixen, that stretched across his shoulders and displayed the muscles in his arms.

“So, is there, like, a number of auditions until you give me the information I am after?” Raven wondered as they got into the elevator. He was not surprised when Shadow selected his floor.

“What information are you after?” Vixen purred, taking his hand like a girlfriend, and smiling up at him through her eyelash extensions. “Why are you so interested in our boss, Raven?”

The elevator doors opened, and they followed him out. He did not play games but went to his apartment door and unlocked it. Vixen sauntered in, looking around. He tried to see it through her eyes. He did alright as a PI, but his home certainly was not a luxury pad. The apartment was decent sized and had a decent view through the windows. The furniture was of good quality, and he had enough that he felt he could claim himself to be an adult.

Leather couch in dark natural, glass coffee table. Dining table, six chairs. Decent TV and sound system. Fridge, coffee machine, and a dishwasher that he actually used regularly. It was tidy even if it was a bit bare. Two bedrooms, one he used as an office and lived in, which he knew was no where near tidy, and the one he slept in, iron bed, decent sheets that he was sure he had washed in the last couple of weeks, at least once, and a basic bathroom.

“This is home,” he said watching as they both looked around them.  

“Very grown-up,” she said, amused. “Very bland.”

He shrugged. “It is what it is.”

“Bedroom,” she instructed, with a wicked glint to her eye.

He felt a surge of lustful hope and walked over to open the bedroom door. The bed was not made, and the linen was his one good set more because he hadn’t washed the others, but the room was not awful. The washing basket was a little overfull, but at least there was no underwear on the floor. The bright light through the window picked up on the dust on his dresser, but he figured a bit of dust was to be expected in a guy’s bedroom.

“Oh, naughty,” she said with approval, eyeing off the king bed. “Strip. Slowly. Let’s see what we are working with.” She put the handbag onto the bed, and turned to face him, expectantly. Shadow closed the bedroom door and leaned against it. He met Raven’s eyes and smirked.

“Oh, he is shy,” Vixen said to Shadow. “After Friday night, that is a surprise. He wasn’t so shy then, was he Shadow? Don’t worry about Shadow,” she walked up to Raven, and eased her fingers under the edge of his t-shirt, her fingers tickling across his stomach muscles. “He likes to watch, and he is not fussy about the gender of who he watches. Or plays with for that matter.”

“Most people take me on a date first,” Raven said, his voice husky and his balls aching. “You know, exchange first names, and basics, before stripping me to the skin. Usually there is a kiss, some groping…”

“He wants a kiss,” her eyes were spectacular, he thought. Grey, but there was a ring of golden brown around the iris. She lifted onto her sneakered tiptoes as her lips pouted. “You can kiss me, Raven.”

He leaned down and brushed his lips over hers, pausing to savour the vanilla of her lip balm before going in for a second helping. Her lips parted for him. Unlike the kiss the night before, she let him control it, his tongue exploring the contours of her mouth, the flavour of her intoxicating. Her lips were made for kissing, plush and soft against his.

His hands closed on her hips, drawing her up and against him, pushing his hard on against her, letting her know exactly what he wanted from her. She laughed into his mouth and pulled back.

“So alpha,” she sneered. “Off with it, Raven.”

“F-k you are a kinky b-tch,” he muttered, glancing behind at Shadow who flashed a brilliantly white, superstar smile at him at full beam. “Both of you.” He pulled his t-shirt up and over his head.

“Ooo,” she stroked her fingers down his chest, teasing his nipples into hardness, and then down the valleys between the stomach muscles that ridged as he drew in breath, reacting to the tickle of her touch. “Raven works out,” she said to Shadow. “Doesn’t he look pretty. Jeans, Raven.”

He bit on his back teeth regretting skipping underwear that morning, but he had been behind on laundry, and eased down the straining fly. She giggled as he sprang free, and the jeans sagged down to gather at his ankles.

“Probably should have taken my shoes off first, hm?” He lifted an eyebrow.

“Oh, my,” she covered her mouth with a hand and her eyes danced. “How is the arse, Shadow?”

“Nice,” Shadow said with appreciation. “Very nice.”

Raven felt the heat rise up his neck and into his cheeks as he heeled off his shoes and freed his ankles of the jeans.

“Oh, and he blushes so prettily,” Vixen crowed. “It is very nice from this side, too Shadow. He is also flying a flag; he is so happy to see us.”

“Now what?” Raven asked, embarrassed. But a larger part of him was ridiculously turned on, feeling Shadow’s eyes on his back, and knowing that the big guy with movie star looks was checking him out as much as Vixen was.

She laughed. “Oh, Raven,” she leaned against his bare chest and lifted her lips. He met her half-way, kissing her eagerly until he was sure that he wore as much of her vanilla flavoured lip balm as she did. “You are so conflicted, poor pet. Get onto the bed, on your back.”

He was lying down before the content of her sentence made sense to him. “What do you mean?”

“Mean?” She unzipped her handbag and drew out several lengths of brightly coloured rope, laying them out onto his chest. He managed to swallow the moan that wanted to fight its way free, the weight of the ropes against his chest making his pulse spike and his balls draw up tight.

Shadow’s eyes met his, and instead of mockery, there was empathy.

He wasn’t sure he wanted to repeat the question.

She took one of his hands and began to wind the rope around it expertly, firm, but not too tight, looping the rope around the wrought iron bar at the top edge of his bed. She was going to bind him spread eagled on his own bed, he thought watching, hypnotised, as she wound the rope around his other wrist. And, damned if he didn’t want her to do so, with a desperate craving that threatened to undo him.

“I think Raven likes to be tied down,” she murmured, trailing her finger down the centreline of his chest, to his belly button. “He has gotten all panty and sweaty.”

“F-k,” Raven moaned, his eyes at half-mast as she tied his left ankle to the bedpost, pulling until there was tension from his bound wrist, just on the inside edge of comfortable. “I think I am going to come before we get to the main show.”

“I have noticed that things are getting a little slick,” she smiled mischievously as she finished tying his right ankle. “And that is okay, sweetie, if you do. We will just wait for you to recover and then carry on where we left off. Eventually, I will teach you to have a bit more control, but it is early days yet.”

She stood on the bed, straddling his hips. She had slipped free her shoes, and her bare feet beneath the denim next to his hips was oddly sexy, he thought. She released the button and eased the fly down, but then lifted free the band t-shirt, revealing a vibrant pink vinyl bra beneath.

“Holy crap,” he muttered. She smiled over her shoulder as she stepped off the bed, standing near his head and facing away from him as she pushed her jeans down, bending over to give him a spectacular and up-close view of that arse as she eased the jeans down her calves. The g string was the same vibrant pink, but delicate lace.

She straddled him, a knee pressing against each hip, and leaned over, her hair falling over his face as she kissed him again, a gentle, almost tender kiss as she slid a condom over him by feel with an expertise he fully appreciated, finishing with a soft nip of his bottom lip, though the sensation of her hands and the roll of the latex tightly over him almost caused him to lose control.

“So, Raven,” she settled herself back, trapping him between them. He groaned, feeling the heat of her through the latex. “You are quite stubborn, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” he lifted his hips, rubbing himself against her. “F–k me, Temperance.”

“Oh,” she grinned at the use of her name. “He has been snooping, hasn’t he, Shadow?”

“Sounds like it,” Shadow agreed.

She rested her weight on his hips, grinding him between them. He sobbed out a breath. “We are polite around here, Raven,” she told him. God, he thought, he had never seen a more beautiful sight than Vixen, her hair hanging over one shoulder as she smirked and rubbed herself against him. “We use please and thank you.”

“Fine,” he was willing to say please if it would get him what he needed. F-k, he would probably do anything she asked, if it meant he could come. The sweat was beading across his brow and prickling his chest, but he needed something more from her to push him over the edge into orgasm. “Please, f-k me, Temperance.”

“Mistress Vixen.”

“I am not one of your f-king slave boys,” he rebelled.

“Shadow isn’t my slave,” she replied. “That is an entirely different thing. Shadow is my sub.”

“I am not a f-king sub,” Raven said it between his teeth, as his hips rose and a drop of sweat ran down his throat, gathering in the hollow of his clavicle. His c-k had a very different opinion, he noted.

“Oh, I think you are,” she replied. “But you think that being a submissive makes you weak, or not an alpha male. You can be alpha and a sub, my poor pet. Alpha is a personality type, not a sexual preference. And being a submissive doesn’t mean that you’re weak. It takes a lot of self-control and bravery to be a sub. You need to place your well-being into the hands of someone else, and that is not easy and takes a lot of guts and trust in that person.

“You like having the control taken out of your hands,” she leaned forward, and he felt the texture of the vinyl bra against his chest as she brushed her lips over his. “It turns you on.”

Shadow stepped up and placed something into her hands.

“What is that?” Raven demanded, his voice harsh and breathless.

“Nothing too frightening for a beginner,” she leaned back, rocking against his hardness, and he groaned. “A blind fold. Relax, Raven. Let me take care of your needs.” She slipped it over his forehead but did not pull it down. “Okay?” She met his eyes and held them.

“F-k it,” he closed his eyes and felt the tension release from his body as he surrendered. She slipped the blindfold over his eyes, and then lifted off him. “You had better not leave me like this,” he said darkly, feeling the tension return.

“That would be an abuse of the trust you have placed in me,” she replied. “Which would reflect badly on me as a Domme.”

He felt her fingers trail down his chest, and the dip of the mattress as she leaned over him. Her hair was a tickle against his stomach, making him suck in his breath. She closed her mouth onto his nipple, sucking the nub between the sharp edge of her teeth, and he hissed out a breath, surprised at how the sensation seemed to shoot through his body, and how much he liked that tiny pain.

His other nipple wanted the same treatment, and she seemed to know it, repeating the experience. She brushed kisses, little flicks of the tongue followed by a breath to raise the hair, at seeming random along his torso, until his skin seemed hypersensitive to her touch, and he found himself waiting for the next caress with absolute focus.

“How are you doing, Raven?” Her lips were near his ear, and she barely whispered the words.

He did not have words, his body ached for release, and yet he did not want her to stop. He swallowed, trying to find the ability to speak. “Please,” it was a croak.

“Mistress Vixen.”

He closed his eyes under the eye mask and groaned. “F-k it. Please, Mistress Vixen.”

“Good pet,” she kissed him, the kiss soft and lingering, stroking and comforting, lover-like, and then she straddled him again and he cried out as she took him into the heat of her. Four strokes and he was done, the orgasm seeming to come from the soles of his feet, and he heard the echoes of his own moans with amazement that they had come from his throat. A weariness sank into his limbs, the aftermath of a heavy release, that wanted to pull him into sleep with his arms wrapped around the glorious curves of the strange wanton woman.

She rode him out to the last throes, and then lifted, removing the condom. She lay out against him, her head on his bicep, as he caught his breath. His mind was full of white-noise, and her body against him, her hand on his chest, and the curl of her leg over his, was comforting. He felt the ropes on his ankles release and knew it was Shadow who had untied him, and it did not matter that the other man did that for him. When his wrists released, Raven rolled, putting his arms around Vixen, and felt her arm tighten around him, her hand smoothing over his back.

He pressed his face into her hair and breathed in the cinnamon of her shampoo. He had always scoffed at why some women seemed to want to smell like food, but on this woman, it was just perfect.

The eye mask held him in darkness, but he kept his eyes closed. He felt as if she had stripped away at all his defences, and laid the core of him bare, leaving him raw and fragile, and the darkness offered some shelter from that. The feeling was not a bad one, though, he thought, he did not feel vulnerable, just clean, as if she had scrubbed the crust of life from his soul.

He slipped into sleep, holding her against him, with his face pressed into the cinnamon of her hair.