by Melissande
"In a minute. First I have to—" Swiftly he parted her thighs and dove, licking her from mons to vagina, all in one lusty swipe. "Mmm…" he stabbed his tongue into her pussy and swirled.
She couldn't help thrusting against him, begging for more.
One corner of his mouth curved, and he licked upward torturously slowly, lavishly licking her juices from flesh already screaming for more.
"Sam—" She was about to shove at his shoulders—
When he fastened his teeth on her clit and her back bowed.
He gripped her hips. Levered her up and rose himself, his hard dick arrowing toward her. "Have to, Dani," he growled. "Can't wait."
When he thrust inside her, she gave up caring about what she wasn't getting to watch—
Because what she was getting to feel was so, so very much better.
"Wrap your legs around me," he urged. "Let me in, Dani. All the way in."
You're in too deep already, she thought…
Until another savage thrust had her holding onto his shoulders for dear life. Dani quit thinking of anything but this gorgeous, unbelievably hot stud who kept turning her life upside down.
In the most divine, decadent, delicious of ways.
He left her sleeping, but this time leaving her was harder. He'd tucked her into bed and closed her balcony doors for safety. He'd talked to her doorman to make sure the super locked the door so she could sleep safe.
But a perfectly insane part of him had wanted to stay the night with her.
Staying the night…crazy talk. Telling her who he really was? Worse, nearly bragging like a boy over something like his helicopter?
What the hell?
Yeah, the sex was great—off the chain, for sure. Never in his life had he found a woman more willing to let loose and just…fuck. Simply for the sake of fucking. That's all she wanted—he believed that. Just to play The Game.
So why was he feeling this itch under his skin, this subtle buzz of dissatisfaction that led him to push for more?
Luke dragged one hand over his face as though it would erase the insanity currently gripping him in its claw.
Yeah, she fascinated him, all right. He spent way too much time thinking about her when he was away from her. He'd forcefully wrested himself back to sense in the daylight hours, at least. Most days he could get his work done just fine. He hadn't realized how obsessed he'd become with her, ruthlessly strangling thoughts of her whenever they popped up—which seemed to happen far too often, like in the middle of a meeting where he imagined laying her down on the conference table before him, spreading her legs like a feast. Gorging himself on her until she writhed on the glossy wood, while her juices glistened and beckoned him.
He'd missed part of more than one meeting while imagining burying his face between her legs and slowly, lavishly licking over and inside the folds of her sex, drinking in the erotic elixir where her flesh wept for him…
God. Once more he scrubbed a hand over his face and realized his driver had arrived at the hotel and was watching him in the rearview mirror, his brow faintly lined with worry. "Sir?"
Seeing Henry made him remember Dani sitting beside him, bare-ass naked on the leather of this very seat. Idly he wondered if Henry could smell her on the leather afterward.
While he and Jean-Paul and Carlos and Bruno had been fucking and sucking and gorging themselves on the wealth of her passion until that darkened room had become their only reality.
The room…and the beautiful white body of Dani Martin.
"Sir?"
Luke forcibly straightened. Cleared his throat.
But he could still taste her. "Thank you, Henry. That will be all tonight." He had to struggle to remember his schedule. "I'll need you at seven in the morning—" No, he corrected himself, thinking that a bout in the gym might burn off some of this obsession and clear his head. "On second thought, meet me at the gym at nine. I'll walk there from here."
A good punishing workout might be just what the doctor ordered.
"Very well, sir."
"Good night, Henry," he said as he emerged and approached the hotel entrance.
"Good evening, Mr. Forrester," greeted the bell captain. "Pleasant evening, I hope?"
Luke thought about Dani's pale ass rising before him as he thrust himself inside the wickedly tight passage, the golden glistening of the butter smeared on her flesh. About watching her face contort in the mirror, the satisfaction and temper dancing over her face in the reflection on her mirrored wall.
"Very pleasant, thanks." He walked through the opened door.
And strode through the hotel lobby, being greeted by the staff, exchanging pleasantries with them as if he'd come from a simple social engagement.
Instead of having been buried to the hilt in a stunningly gorgeous woman's almost-virgin ass.
He shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather bomber jacket and closed it over the front of the jeans, where the dick that could not seem to get enough of Dani Martin was rising eagerly again.
Luke shook his head as he entered the elevator and inserted his private penthouse key, then settled back against the wall as the door closed.
You haven't jacked off on the balcony yet, she'd complained.
Hell,he might do that tonight, all by himself, just to get his goddamn dick to let him be for a few hours. It wouldn't be a fraction as much fun, but…desperate times called for desperate measures.
Yet he'd be thinking of her every second. Of what he'd do to her next.
Because there would be a next time.
He'd bared her ass in her own corner office, where she was feared by all.
Don't get too comfortable, Dani.
I've barely gotten started seeing where you and I can go.
Thank christ he was leaving town for several days or he'd probably wear his damn dick to a nub with her. He emerged onto his private floor, straight into his living area, already yanking his jeans open and gripping his cock with his fist.
His hand was a damn poor substitute, but…
Damn you, Dani.
He made a turn toward his balcony and grinned.
Too bad you're missing the show.
For several days, Dani was jumpy, never sure where Sam would pop up, only knowing he would.
But when a week had gone by with no word, no note left when she'd awakened that last morning, she began to relax.
Okay, and maybe mourn a little.
But she didn't need him, and she damn sure didn't need the problems he presented. He was unpredictable and dangerous and willful—
And the most fun she'd had in her entire life.
Once more she buckled down to study the figures on the screen before her, the pro forma she'd created to analyze the cap rate on the proposed investment one of her clients wanted to make in a new company he'd acquired.
"Dani?" the intercom crackled. "You have a visitor."
"I'm not expecting anyone. Who is it?"
But her heart leaped. At last. Her lips curved in a smile filled with expectation.
"He says his name is Henry."
Her breath stalled. Henry. Her wits scrambled as she recalled her first meeting with Sam's driver. She'd been bare-assed naked beneath her coat, forced to walk down to Sam's limo that way, only one button on her coat fastened while the wind teased and threatened to expose her breasts or her pussy—or both—to the world she tried to keep so separate from her nighttime adventures.
"Dani?" the receptionist prodded. "He has a note for you. Says he has to deliver it in person."
Of course he did.
She squeezed her thighs together as she recalled the blindfolded trip.
The three men who waited for them.
The night every part of her had been touched and tasted and…filled. To the brim.
She inhaled sharply. Put a hand on her midriff. Settle down. "Send him back."
She stared at the doorway, wondering if she should meet Henry at the door and send him on his way quickly.<
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But there was no telling what kind of note—and charge—Sam had given him. Not that she had to accept. He'd broken the rules, and she was under no compunction to keep playing. The Game could be over already, if that's what she wanted. She could teach Sam a lesson.
But her nipples were hard points, and her pussy was already weeping for him.
And she was no fool. Nor was she helpless. She'd get him back for his flagrant disregard of the rules. She'd have her due. She barely heard the discreet knock on the door, lost in a reverie of how she would exact her price from Sam…
"Dani?" said the receptionist as she opened the door. "Shall I wait or…?"
Henry stood behind her, all British patience and dignity, not one expression on his face.
But he'd seen her naked. Heard her moan.
"No, that's fine. Thank you, Sarah. Please come in," she gestured to Henry without rising. "Would you care for anything? Tea, coffee…?"
He approached, all sober grace. "Thank you, miss, but no. The Master wanted you to have this right away."
The Master. Inwardly she shivered, but she took the proffered envelope. "Thank you. Do you know your way out?"
He cleared his throat faintly. "My instructions were to wait for an answer."
"Oh, really." She fanned the envelope once, twice while she considered it.
Opening Pandora's box might be less hazardous, she thought. With an elaborate sigh, she nodded. "Very well. Then I have to get back to work." On this project I already can't remember. She slit open the envelope with one long scarlet nail and saw Henry wince at the wanton disregard for the heavy cream bond paper.
Wear something I'll like, but no panties. Leave this in until I can take its place. Do not touch the button.
Go with Henry.
Now.
Sam
Sam, not Luke. Well, that was something, she supposed.
But…now?
Getting a little high-handed, are we?
"Miss?"
She flicked a gaze toward Henry, not bothering to hide her displeasure.
He held out a glossy black bag, its handles cinched with a satin scarlet ribbon. "The Master wanted you to have this, as well."
She took it as though it were dynamite. And if Sam thought she was going to open it in front of Henry, he was delusional.
But, damn him, he also knew her insatiable curiosity. "If you'd wait outside for a moment…"
"Certainly." The nod was all dignity and circumspection.
He closed the door behind him, which made her wonder if he knew what was inside.
Or, heaven forbid, had been the person to pack it.
Slowly she drew the ribbon from its knot and laid it aside. Then she parted the tissue paper and peered inside. She frowned because she didn't know what she was looking at. Gingerly she touched the small object and withdrew it.
Only to be faced with some sort of double dildo, but the heads were not at opposite ends, they were…
A butt plug and a second head to slip into her vagina.
There was a small round switch on the bottom. She touched it, and it began to vibrate.
She chuckled. You are incorrigible, she silently told Sam, and wiggled her pelvis, rubbing her pussy lips against her chair seat.
Oh. Oh, sweet heavenly—
She smiled at herself and shook her head. She was going to do it, of course. Hadn't she been waiting to hear from him? Tempted to seek him out herself very soon?
Quickly she checked her calendar to refresh herself on what she had to accomplish tomorrow, then methodically she shut down her laptop and stowed it. Tomorrow was Saturday, she realized, and though she often came into the office on weekends, she took no appointments.
She was free and clear to play.
She reached beneath her skirt and wiggled off her thong, though privately she thought Sam was missing a good bet.
It was a wicked sexy thong. She tucked it into the empty black bag and locked the bag in her desk drawer.
Then she rose, parted her legs and bent over her desk slightly, cautiously first inserting the butt plug into her pussy to wet it, then after swirling it around her juices, withdrew it and placed both heads—thanks be neither was as big as Sam's—into their proper positions.
And couldn't stifle a moan.
She swiveled her hips, both to get them comfortable and to take a moment to relish how freaking good they felt inside her…
Then she rose, took a few steps to be sure they'd stay in place, and grabbed her purse and coat before making her way to the door.
But she had to pause for a second before she opened it.
Because the ripples inside her were escalating, and if she wasn't careful, she was going to have an orgasm as she walked down the hall.
Thank god her assistant Adam had the afternoon off.
She twisted the knob and emerged. "Let's go," she said to Henry. "I'll need to stop by my place first." Without waiting for his agreement, she walked ahead of him all the way through her office, trying to invite as little notice as possible, even as her nipples hardened, and every step was a delicious torture.
And tried not to wonder how much Henry understood of what was happening to her.
But none of that could keep the smile off her face.
Goddamn you, Sam.
You gorgeous, sexy beast.
Chapter Three
THE MAN WAS MADDENING, SHE thought, an hour later. A slow, smug smile flirted over her lips. In the best kinds of ways. Hotter than fire, unrelentingly challenging…and he could deliver the goods.
Could he ever.
Her inner muscles clenched for the thousandth—who was she kidding?—ten thousandth time since she'd inserted these little jewels.
Of course she'd touched the On button. Who did he think he was?
More importantly, he knew better. She was the furthest thing from obedient…unless, of course, doing so suited her.
So here she sat, once again with no panties—what was it with Sam and no lingerie? Didn't he know how much fun scraps of lace and bits of silk could be?
She lifted an eyebrow. Now there was a thought. Perhaps he was in need of education….hmmm...
Henry broke into her lascivious musings. "Miss? There's a man waiting to escort you inside." He nodded toward a young man, early twenties at most, who stood at the curb.
He was not as tall as Sam and not as muscular. Dark curly hair, where Sam's was golden. He was certainly pretty, though, clad in his Armani suit. Not her type, but definitely a looker.
He opened the door of Sam's limo, and extended a hand. "Dominique, it's a pleasure."
Dominique? Then she understood that Sam was shielding her.
"Thank you."
She hesitated as she tried to figure out how she could emerge from the car in this short, tight skirt without flashing the device nestled inside her.
As she swiveled to put her legs outside, she tripped the button, and the dual dildo began vibrating.
Involuntarily she doubled over from the orgasm that had been threatening all evening. God knew she'd endured too many little tremors to count, even without the motor turned on.
"Are you all right?" said the young man.
She searched his face for comprehension.
And saw the wicked spark in his eyes.
He knew. Damn you, Sam.
"I'm more than fine," she said silkily and gripped his hand, letting him lift her.
"I'm Adam, by the way." He nearly had to look up to her as she towered on the five-inch heels of her knee-high boots that complemented the tight black leather dress that laced up the front.
And dipped to the dimples above her ass in the back.
"This way." Adam placed his hand on her bare back, and she felt the jolt in him.
Their gazes met. "He's one lucky bastard," Adam said.
She smiled. "He certainly is." She didn't wait passively for him but began striding toward the door, her long legs eating up the ground as the young man scramb
led to keep up.
Luke nearly swallowed his tongue when he spotted her.
God…damn. He might have summoned her as her master—
But she was in full dominatrix mode, even to the studded cuffs at her wrists and the slicked-back hair only making the staggering scarlet of her lips more noticeable with the absence of hair to frame her face.
And what a face it was, haughty and proud and take-no-prisoners.
At last she saw him and merely cocked one eyebrow.
He laughed. And saluted her. Well, well, well…the night had just gotten a whole lot more interesting.
Then she and Adam approached, Adam barely keeping up with her long legs and confident stride. She wouldn't be dismissing him so cavalierly if she knew what he was hiding in his pants. Adam might look like a boy.
But his equipment was all man.
"Hello, Sam," she greeted.
He watched Adam's eyebrows lift in surprise. He'd forgotten to alert Adam about her preference in names, her attempt to keep him a fantasy, not a real man.
She didn't think he understood that.
He understood her all too well. In many ways, they were a lot alike, not least their predilection for avoiding involvement on any level beyond the sexual.
Or that's how he'd been in the past. Currently he was fighting his own possessive instincts.
And losing.
"Put your hands on the table edge," he ordered.
She waited long enough to make Adam nervous.
"Spread your legs."
Both eyebrows lifted now, but she was in full-bore challenge. With a negligent lift of her shoulder, she complied.
Then went him one better and bent forward, raising her ass in the air.
Damn, he'd like to be looking at her from that direction.
"Remove Dominique's little toy," he ordered Adam.
He watched Adam's eyes go dark. "Um, excuse me…" Adam said to her, not moving yet.
"It's okay," she cooed and bent forward more, wiggling her hips and taunting. Bending forward enough that Luke could see over her shoulder to the long, smooth expanse of her bare back.
