"On the count of three." His eyes narrowed slightly. His tongue moistened his bottom lip. The muscles in his shoulders were strained. Could he possibly feel the same tension she felt?
"One."
The soft clank of the balls connecting sounded far away to her ears.
"Two."
He leaned back, giving her a better view of the rigidity in his torso as he counted down to the moment she wasn't sure she could handle. What would he do if she pulled back? Would he stop playing with her if she couldn't take the second ball? Would she find herself hauled out to a taxi and reminded she's no submissive, that she wasn't tough enough for him. Was she a wimp?
"Three."
His finger let the chain fall, and with it, the added weight sent an inferno of heat through her nipples. The stretch was far worse than she’d expected. She screamed out, willing her brain to shut up and let her body get used to the burn. It would calm. It had to. She wouldn't last long in that state.
Her brain finally won out.
"Mercy! Please, Sir. Mercy!" she cried, rivers of tears rolling down her cheeks.
Bradley gripped the balls in an instant, lifting up the chain to alleviate the strain. "Shhh, okay. It's okay, pet. Take a deep breath, baby." He quickly unhooked the balls and tossed them to the floor. Gently, he cupped her breasts. "Deep breath in, then out. That's my girl." His voice became the center of her focus. She inhaled on his cue and blew out the air when he said.
"There we go. Deep breath." On her inhale, he unclipped one clamp. She cried out from the heated blood running back into her tender flesh. "Almost there, baby. One more. Breathe, Erin." His voice hardened when she started to take quick, shallow breaths. She nodded to let him know she'd heard him, and once again drew the energy from his voice to follow his instructions. Again, on the deep inhale, he released the second clamp, and she screamed out.
"There. You did so fucking good, pet." He tossed the clamps to the floor and cupped her breasts, cradling the mounds in his hands.
She cautiously looked up at him, expecting to see disappointment and irritation. The tender way he watched her surprised her.
He let go of her breasts and wiped away the tears on her face. "Take a few more breaths, baby," he instructed her, his dominance never wavering from his voice even when the tone softened.
He wasn't angry. He wasn't throwing her clothes at her and telling her to get out. His brown eyes connected with hers, and they gazed at each other in silence. Their breathing lined up with each other as she felt her body begin to calm from the panic.
"Hands?" He placed one hand over both of hers, feeling the temperature.
"They're good, Sir," she whispered, still not wanting to look away from him.
"Good girl." He released her and reached behind him, showing her the vibrator again. "You did good, so you get a reward. But you still don't have permission to come." He held onto her upper arm and stepped to her side, letting her lean into his body as he turned the vibrator back on and pressed it directly to her clit.
Her knees buckled, and he caught her, forcing her back up. The vibrations went deeper into her body, and the pressure instantly built until she was bucking against the vibrator. How could she be so aroused after feeling such immense pain?
A new discomfort began to build as her orgasm threatened to take over her body with or without his permission. At that point, she didn't think her body would listen to her either.
"Please, Sir. Please! I have to come," she screamed out into the room, not giving a damn if George was downstairs or if all of Chicago sat below his bedroom window. If he didn't let her come, she would have to kill him. It was decided.
She was smart enough to keep her decision to herself, though, and continued to beg for him. "Please. Oh god!" She pushed her hips again, knowing she stood before him, humping the vibrator, knowing she must have looked like a desperate slut and not giving a damn about any of it.
"Is that the spot you like? Right there?" His raspy voice played over her ear as his hot breath tickled her neck. "Will you come for me like this? Humping the vibrator for me?"
"Yes!" She wanted to glare at him, make him give her what she wanted. But he didn't work that way. And more to the point, she didn't want it to work that way. She wanted her orgasm to be at his discretion. "Please!" she whined, gyrating her hips even harder against the vibrator and feeling as though she was going to collapse if he didn't give in soon.
"When I count to five. You can come. Not until I say five. Got it, pet?"
"Yes. Please. Please count!" Her thighs trembled. Her knees promised they'd hold, but only for a while longer. She tried to keep her eyes on him, but her breath was back to playing games with her. She wasn't sure she'd be able to hold back until he finished counting.
"One. Two. I bet it's going to feel so fucking good when your pussy comes." He licked the tear rolling down her cheek. "Fuck, everything you do tastes good. Three. Four. Almost there. Look at me. Open your fucking eyes!" She snapped her attention to his eyes. "Now, look down. Look at your pussy grinding on the vibe." He let go of her arm to fist her hair, shoving her chin down and making her watch her body being played like some sort of instrument. If only he'd pluck the right string!
His mouth pressed against her ear. "Five," he whispered. Her body quivered as her orgasm reached a crescendo.
She screamed, each hot, intense wave giving her another reason to cry out. Her hips rolled over the vibrator.
"Fuck! Oh fuck!" she screamed into the room, still watching the vibrator being pushed between her folds and titillating her clit. The burn in her scalp and the ache in her nipples heightened her orgasm until her body finally twitched and shook from the force of it. His hand let go of her hair and wrapped around her shoulders, holding her up.
Slowly, it all began to ease. The tight muscles and wave of her release slowed and began to roll into each other until they quietly faded away.
Before she had the chance to speak, he tossed the vibrator away and pushed her toward the bed, shoving her face down over the mattress. The footboard pressed into her pelvis, forcing her ass higher. A new wave of burn captured her breasts with the mattress brushing over her tender nipples.
"Fuck, your ass is so fucking hot like this." His hands were back on her, digging into her waist.
She heard his zipper and registered the sound of a package being torn but couldn't look over her shoulder at him. Her hands were still bound and now pinned beneath her torso.
He gripped her ass cheeks and spread them far apart, pushing the head of his cock into her wet, wanting entrance. She scooted her feet apart, spreading herself more for him. She didn't think she'd be able to take more stimulation, but as always, he knew her body better.
Not wasting any time, he thrust into her up to his balls. She grunted as he pulled out and slammed back into her. Again and again, he plowed into her, growling and digging his nails into her flesh.
"Ahhh!" she cried into the mattress, not knowing if it was from the harshness of his thrusts or the new pressure building in her belly. Feeling the need for more, she lifted her right leg, bending it at the knee and half climbing on the bed, her toes barely touching the ground.
"Oh fuck!" He gave her ass a hard slap. "Stay like that. Don't fucking move."
She didn't think it possible, but he drove even harder into her, filling her and stretching her with every stroke.
"I have to come!" She turned her head to the side and screamed. "Please! I have to. Can I?"
He grunted. "Yes," he managed to say between thrusts.
His nails went deeper, his cock propelled harder, and before she knew it, a second orgasm slammed into her, rippling through her body as he found his at the same time. Pulling her hips to meet his thrusts, he pounded into her twice more, then stilled behind her, bellowing his release into the room. He collapsed onto her back, muttering a few more well-versed curses before pinching her hip and pushing upward to kiss her just below her neck.
His gentle touch sent a
shiver down her spine, and she sighed into the mattress. She lowered her leg back off the bed, feeling all the tension in her body begin to ease, replaced with a soft ache.
"Was I too rough?" he asked after pulling free from her body and manhandling her until she was standing on her own two feet.
"Rough?" The word didn't even register properly. He broke her brain.
He grinned and began to untie her hands. She noticed his cock was clear of the condom already and wondered if she had fallen asleep for a few minutes somewhere. Her body felt as though it could melt into the bed and never roll out again.
The small tingles in her fingers started to fade away once the ropes were unwound and her circulation was back in full effect. Moving her fingers around, she watched him let it all fall to the ground. He scooped her up into his arms and carried her around the bed before depositing her in the center of it.
She scrambled to pull the covers down and slip beneath them, suddenly feeling a little shy with him watching her. She had done so many dirty things. All of which she wanted, needed, and begged for.
The bed dipped when he sat next to her, facing her with concerned eyes. "Are you okay?"
His voice sounded far off. She swallowed and nodded. "I used my safeword." She blinked at him, realizing she was waiting for him to laugh at her, to rebuke her for having used it.
"I know." His teeth flashed when he smiled. "I'm proud of you for using it. A small part of me worried you would be so caught up with trying to please me, you'd never use it." He brushed some hair from her face. "How are your nipples?"
"You aren't mad?"
"The safewords are there for a reason, Erin. I would be mad if you hadn't used it and kept going, allowing yourself to be injured or hate what we were doing."
"Oh." She nodded. He had told her that before, hadn't he? A thought struck her. He was genuine. The concern he expressed, the pleasure he said he wanted her to have—all if it was completely real. He wasn't playing games. He wasn't role playing for her benefit or using her body for his own fulfilment. Until that moment, she hadn't realized how afraid of his rejection she really was.
"Erin, your nipples. How are your nipples?"
"Fine." She nodded again, swallowing and realizing how thirsty she was. "They're fine," she said again, pulling the blanket up to her chin.
He laughed. "I'm going to get you some water, then I'm going to look at them to be sure, and I want to check your wrists again. I had you bound longer than I’d planned." He pressed a warm kiss to her forehead and grabbed his jeans from the floor, shoving his legs into them.
She watched him saunter out of the room, the muscles of his back moving with each step, and let out a heavy sigh. Leaning back against the plush pillows, she closed her eyes to let the warmth of the bed soothe her aching muscles.
She would need to start working out to increase her endurance if they played that way often. For a moment, she'd closed her eyes, just for a second, groaning when the bedding brushed across her tender nipples.
He was a mean bastard. She'd been right about that. She'd been even more right when she’d said he was mean in exactly the right ways.
Chapter 20
"Bradley, you want to join the rest of the class?" Travis laughed in his low snorting way, and for the fourth time in the last five minutes, crossed and uncrossed his legs.
The meeting to confront the two embezzlers finally took place. Calling off at the last minute, Travis had delayed for another few days, but now had been roped into attending. All Alex and Bradley had to do was get their signatures on the “intent to sell” documents and the attorneys would finish their work.
Bradley made his drink at the small wet bar in his office. He could analyze his obsession with Erin later, he had to keep his focus on his business now.
Once he took his seat in the fourth armchair, he looked to Alex to get the ball rolling.
"As the two of you are aware, Bradley and I have been looking into the finances of the club, not just Top Floor, but all three levels. There have been a lot of discrepancies we aren’t able to explain, nor can the accountant we hired."
"What's this?" John's eyes narrowed at them. "What are you getting at?" His right leg began to bounce on the ball of his foot.
"There have been a lot of charges going through the company that aren't for the company." Bradley dropped the accounting reports on the table between them. "This is a listing of all the charges that appear to be for personal items, and these are only the ones that are blatantly obvious. I'm sure there's more if we dig a little deeper."
John swallowed, then looked over at Travis with a furrowed brow. "Everyone runs a few things through the company, you know, to avoid income taxes." Travis waved a fat hand through the air dismissively.
"Not this company." Alex shook his head. "We never discussed any sort of personal spending accounts for any of us. I haven't ran a single personal item through the company, and neither has Bradley."
"Whereas the two of you have run up a bill for yourselves to the high-pitched tune of nearly a hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Each." Bradley kept his voice flat, but his anger simmered beneath the surface. Nearly three hundred thousand dollars walked out the door with those two assholes. He was never very close to either of them, but he'd done business with them in the past, and he never saw any signs of something like what they’d done with the club.
"That's not even possible. We haven't even been open a year." Travis scoffed and leaned back in his chair, his double chin becoming more prominent as he scrunched up his face in disbelief.
"Go ahead, take a look." Alex pushed the reports closer to them. "Your tallies are written on the last page. We'll expect that amount put back into the account by close of business tomorrow."
Bradley braced himself for the blow back.
Travis was the first to explode, his face reddening as he burst out of the chair. "If you think I have that kind of money just hanging around, you're nuts."
"I don't think you do, which is why you've been living off the company for so many months. You've been charging your fucking groceries for Christ’s sake!" Alex looked over at John, who passively stared at the reports without reaching for them.
"Maria must have done that. It must have been an accident," Travis declared. "I'll talk to her—take her card away."
"She never should have had it in the first place, Travis," Bradley said, moving his eyes to look at him. He needed to keep his composure if they were going to get through the next part. "If you can't pay the company back, there are only two options left."
"What's that?" John looked more intently at Bradley, his toe tapping the ground.
"One option is you two give up your shares in the company." Alex looked at John when he gave the option, but it was Travis who responded.
"Fuck that! Our shares are worth more than that! I'm not walking away from this place. I own a quarter of it. You two want us out, you'll have to pay for it. And I want ten percent more than I paid for my shares." Travis began pacing behind his chair, throwing out numbers and percentages that made little to no sense.
"He's right, we did pay more than that to buy in," John said calmly.
Bradley ran a hand over his smooth head and leaned forward a bit, concentrating on John since he seemed to be the voice of reason between the two.
"Yeah, but you see, you stole from the company. You took money that wasn't yours, money that could have been earning interest in the bank, money that should have been distributed out."
"Distributions! Just take it out of our distributions." Travis slapped the back of the chair with his hand.
"No." Alex leaned back in his chair. "I don't do business with people who steal from me. If you won't walk away, we'll have no choice but to alert the authorities."
"What?" Travis nearly knocked the chair over with his explosion. "For a measly hundred thousand? Do you know what that sort of investigation would do to my life? I'm a fucking district attorney! I can't be associated with this club p
ublicly, and if you do that, my whole fucking life goes under the microscope." Spittle flew from his mouth. "This is fucking blackmail, that's what this is."
Bradley looked to Alex. "Did you force his hand to spend all that cash on weekend getaways with his mistress, or sending his wife on wild lavish spa dates so he could spend time with his girlfriend?"
Alex grinned. "No, not that I remember. Maybe you forced him to buy his girlfriend an entire new wardrobe from Lane Bryant?"
"Ah, yes, he does like his girlfriends a bit curvier than his wife."
Their banter only fueled Travis's anger. "I'll fucking sue you both for blackmail and—and extortion!"
Bradley outright laughed. "It's not blackmail. But if you really do see it that way, I'll have my attorney begin filing whatever he needs to file to pursue a legal case against you. Not only criminal charges, but there will be a civil suit as well." He pushed off his chair and walked around his desk, reaching for the phone.
"Wait." John held up a hand. "Just wait." He turned to Travis. "I can't go through a lawsuit. I'm no big lawyer like you, I just started with a new practice, my client base is minimal, and I sure as hell can't pay back all that money." He buttoned his jacket as he rose from his seat. "I'll make one counter offer. Let us keep part ownership of the first floor. That floor makes a decent profit. Silent partners—take our distributions as they come, no access to accounts. Just quarterly reports."
Bradley glanced at Alex to gauge his reaction to the proposition.
"Fuck that, John. That floor won't make us shit," Travis grumbled.
"Ten percent of that floor for each of you. No access to any accounts, nor will you have any say in the business at all. We don't answer to you in any way. Purely an investment on your end," Alex clarified.
"It's the best you're going to get from me." Bradley settled his gaze on Travis. "I'd rather let you squirm with the cops, but if it gets you out, fine. Ten percent of the bottom floor."
"Fine with me." John nodded and turned to Travis.
The man looked as though his body was about to combust. For an attorney, he sure as hell didn't have much of a poker face.
Liberated Heart: Windy City Book Three Page 17
