by HELEN HARDT
I’m excited to find out.
Except he already told me that I won’t find out tonight.
“Strip for me, Skye,” he says, his eyes smoldering.
I nod and peel off my garments, one by one, slowly and seductively. I get wetter each time a piece of clothing hits the floor.
He is, of course, still dressed.
“I won’t bind you to the headboard tonight,” he says, “but I want you to grab two rungs and keep your hands there, as if you are bound. Can you do that?”
“Yes.” I lie down and grab two rungs, my palms already perspiring.
“I haven’t forgotten, Skye,” he says.
“Forgotten what?”
His lips curve slyly upward. “That I’ve denied you orgasms the last few days.”
My body throbs. Does this mean…?
“Lift your hips,” he says.
I obey, and he shoves a pillow under my ass.
“Now spread your legs.”
I obey once more.
“Mmm. Beautiful.” He sucks in a breath. “Beautiful and always so ready.”
“So ready,” I echo.
“No more talking. Close your eyes and your ears. I want you to feel tonight, Skye. Feel everything I do to you.”
I close my eyes and nod.
“I’m going to eat you, finger you, fuck you, make you come again and again until you think you can’t come anymore. And then you’re going to come again. I’m going to coax ten orgasms out of you tonight. Ten, maybe twelve, maybe fifteen. You’re going to be fucking exhausted when I’m through.”
I gasp at his words. I’m ready. So ready.
He sucks in another breath. “You have no idea what you do to me. No idea how just looking at you, bound only by the strength of my will, legs spread, ready for anything, makes me wild with desire for you. No woman has ever gotten under my skin the way you have.”
I part my lips.
He sucks in a third breath. “Your mouth. Your lips. Fuck.”
I’m desperate for a kiss, but he denies me. He’s going straight in for the kill.
He caresses the lips of my pussy.
“So slick and wet already. I can’t wait to taste you. To shove my tongue deep inside you.”
God, please.
He continues with his fingers, sliding them over and around my labia and then down to my asshole.
I tense for a second.
“Easy, baby. Relax.”
I attempt to obey him, and I find myself relaxing as he massages my anus.
“I can’t wait to take you here,” he says. “And tonight, we’ll begin that journey.”
I tense again.
“Relax,” he soothes. “You’ll be ready for what I do tonight. More than ready.” He circles my asshole with one finger. Then he positions his head between my legs and kisses my inner thighs. “Such a good position. I can see everything from here. Every luscious part of your pussy and your ass.”
He tongues my ass then, and I jerk at the attempted invasion.
“Easy. Let it go, Skye. Let your inhibitions go. You gave me control here. Remember?”
I remember.
I relax beneath him. He told me to feel, so I feel.
And it’s amazing.
His tongue is soft as it massages me but then firm when he tenses it into a point and probes the tight hole.
Relax.
Feel.
Still holding onto the rungs, I force my nerves to settle.
Braden swipes his tongue over my pussy and up to my clit, where he tenses it again and pushes against the sensitive button. I’m ready. So ready.
He probes my clit a few more times and then relaxes his tongue and swirls the tip around me. I’m so sensitive. One little movement and—
One of his long, thick fingers eases into me. “Mmm. Tight,” he says.
He moves the fingers slowly, touching every spot inside my pussy. It’s a dreamy feeling. He’s helping me relax.
“I’m going to put a finger in your ass,” he says, his voice low and hypnotic. “Just relax.”
His finger in my pussy is still moving in and out in a slow and deliberate pattern. His lips are around my clit, sucking gently, and I move my hips in circles, following his lips.
I’m relaxed.
And turned on.
And ready for anything—
“Ah!” I squeal.
Braden’s finger is in my ass.
“Easy. Relax. You’ll like this. I promise.”
I already do. I like it because it’s Braden inside me. Braden can do anything to me. I’ve given him my control, and I know he won’t abuse it.
He adds another finger to my pussy and licks my clit.
Then…he begins to move the finger in my ass in and out slowly, in the opposite rhythm from the fingers in my pussy.
Pussy full and then ass full.
Clit licked and sucked.
And oh my God…
I need to come. I need to come so badly.
Do I wait for permission?
“Come, Skye,” he says against my clit.
And I shatter. Everything. Everything and nothing all around me and all at once.
He probes my pussy and my ass, and with each probe, I soar higher and higher.
“That’s right, baby. Come for me. Come all over my face.”
He thrusts harder into my ass, and I find, to my amazement, that it’s thrilling. Ecstatically thrilling.
I feel.
I feel so much.
“Come again,” he orders.
I fly into another orgasm, a third and then a fourth. They roll through me, coiling into my belly and then bursting outward, sending sparks flying from my fingertips.
A fifth.
A sixth.
A… I lose count. They roll through me one after the other. One subsides and another begins. Up. Down. Up. Down.
“One more, Skye.” He fingers me relentlessly, touching the spot that drives me insane.
I can’t do it. Can’t give him one more—
But I do. I explode again as shards of electricity blaze through me.
“Again,” he commands.
I can’t. I know I can’t. I’m used up. Beautifully used up.
Then Braden growls. He truly growls.
And I give him one last orgasm.
It shoots through me like boiling honey in my veins. I cry out unintelligible words. I undulate violently. I grind against his face and mouth.
I soar and I soar and I soar, Braden still fingering me, still sucking me.
Until finally he releases me, moves backward slightly, and gently eases his fingers out of me.
I sink into the bed, still holding on to the rungs of the headboard. I want to let go, but I can’t. Braden’s will over me is that strong.
That controlling.
Somewhere in a haze around me, I’m vaguely aware of Braden undressing. I don’t see or hear him. I just know.
Then his cock is in my pussy, and he’s thrusting, thrusting, thrusting…
Again and again and again, against my sensitive clit and plowing into my tight pussy.
I’m spent, completely spent.
Braden can do anything to me at this point. Anything, and I’ll let him. If he wants my ass tonight, he can take it.
Any-fucking-thing.
Still he thrusts, and still I lie, open to him with my hands gripping the rungs.
“So hot,” he says through gritted teeth. “Want you so much. Fuck!”
He rams into me, releasing.
So sensitive am I from all those orgasms, I feel every spurt of his cock inside me.
I feel.
I fucking feel.
Chapter Thirty-One
&nbs
p; The next morning, I step out of the shower into the warm bath sheet Braden provides.
“Why didn’t you join me?” I ask.
“Because we both have work to do today.” He rubs the towel over my dripping body. “And if I had joined you, we’d be spending the morning in bed.”
I smile. Sounds amazing, but he’s right. My meeting with Susanne is important, and whatever he’s working on is also important.
“I do have one surprise for you today, though,” he says, his eyes afire.
My heart skips a beat. “What’s that?”
He pulls a stainless steel object out of his pocket. “This.”
My eyes widen. I know what it is. He used something similar to titillate my body a while ago. Only he didn’t put it where it’s meant to go.
“A butt plug,” I say.
“That’s right. You’re going to wear this to your interview.”
“The hell I am.” I whip my hands to my hips, letting the bath sheet fall to the tile floor.
“Oh, you are,” he says. “You want to know why?”
“Please. Enlighten me.”
“Because it will remind you of me. Every time you find yourself wondering what to say or how to act, this will remind you that I’m with you, and you’ll know exactly what to do.”
“It’s not a magic butt plug, Braden.”
His lips curve into that semi-smile I’ve grown so fond of. “It has its own kind of magic. It will remind you of my control over you, which in turn will remind you of your control over your career.”
Is that really why he wants me to wear it? Or does he just want to think of me with a butt plug in my ass while I’m attending the most important meeting of my life?
Doesn’t matter.
I already know I’ll wear it, and so does he. I see it in his eyes.
He hands it to me. “Look at it. Feel its weight.”
I examine the toy. It’s the shape of a small light bulb with a pink jewel on the end—the part that will show from my ass. It’s heavier than I expect, but not so heavy that it will hinder me.
It’s pretty in a strange kind of way.
Braden pulls out a plastic bottle. “Water-based lubricant,” he says, “to help it go in.”
He stands over one of the sinks and squeezes a bit of lube onto the toy. He smooths it over the bulb with his fingers. “Ready?”
Am I?
It doesn’t really matter.
“Bend over,” he says. “Show me that gorgeous ass.”
I obey, gripping the edge of the countertop.
He probes my ass with the slick tip of the plug.
“Relax.”
I try.
“I’m going to slide the tip in. Breathe.”
I wince slightly at the invasion, but once it’s in and the thinner part between the bulb and the jewel rests against my rim, I relax.
It feels…interesting.
But not bad. Not bad at all.
“This will remind you who you are, Skye, as you embark on this new career. It will remind you that you’re mine and that I believe in you.”
“What will it remind you of?” I ask.
“It reminds me that I’m going to claim that ass soon.” He gazes into my eyes. “Very soon.”
…
I’m dressed to the nines in designer clothing. A Ralph Lauren double-breasted charcoal-gray suit and an Ann Taylor creamy silk blouse. My Chanel handbag and a pair of classic black leather Jimmy Choo pumps complete my ensemble. On my lips, of course, is Susanne Cherry Russet lip stain, perfect for any occasion—especially meeting with a Susanne executive.
After sending Tessa the promised selfie and doing a quick Instagram post, I take a moment to breathe deeply before I enter the gigantic skyscraper in Manhattan where Susanne Corporate is housed. I stop at security in the lobby.
“Good morning. I have an appointment with Eugenie Blake at Susanne Cosmetics.”
“Name?”
“Skye Manning.”
“All right. Sign in here, and I’ll need to see your driver’s license.”
I pull my wallet out of my purse and remove my license. “Here you go.”
“Thank you.”
A moment later, I have a “visitor” name tag complete with my license photo, which of course sucks.
“Twenty-seventh floor,” the receptionist says. “Elevators are down the hall to the right.”
“Thank you.”
I’m constantly aware of the butt plug, which makes me constantly aware of Braden.
And it helps to have him with me today.
It helps a lot.
I walk to the elevator, each step nudging the plug in my ass.
I smile as I push the up button.
I smile when I enter the elevator and push number twenty-seven.
I smile when I leave the elevator and walk toward the glass doors with the Susanne logo displayed prominently.
I can’t stop fucking smiling!
All because of a butt plug.
Until—
My smile fades in a microsecond as I see who’s chatting with the receptionist.
Addie.
Addison Ames is here.
And she’s talking to the receptionist—the receptionist I have to check in with.
There’s no avoiding her.
Fuck.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Braden’s anal plug reminds me to walk tall. This is my meeting. Not Addie’s or anyone else’s.
I stride toward the reception desk, my head held high.
“Good morning,” I say.
The receptionist turns away from Addie. “Yes, may I help you?”
“I’m Skye Manning. I’m here to see Eugenie.”
“I guess that’s my cue,” Addie says, smiling. “See you soon, Lisa. Skye, nice to see you.”
I meet her saccharine smile with what I hope looks like a genuine one. “Always a pleasure.”
Addie wants to say something snide. It’s killing her that she can’t in front of Lisa.
I’m enjoying every minute of it.
Addie leaves through the transparent door and heads to the elevator.
“Do you know Addison?” Lisa asks.
“I used to work for her,” I say.
“Lucky you! She’s amazing, isn’t she?”
She’s a conniving bitch. “Oh, yes. Amazing. That’s the word for her.”
“Go ahead and have a seat. Eugenie is expecting you. I’ll let her know you’re here.”
I nod and take a seat on one of the plush chairs in the large waiting area, ever aware of the invasion in my ass. I help myself to a small bottle of water. Won’t hurt to ease the dryness in my throat. I feel like I swallowed a mouthful of sawdust.
My phone dings with a text.
Nice try. A Chanel handbag and Prada pumps don’t make you me.
Addison.
Just when I wonder if it’s possible to dislike her more than I already do, she always surprises me.
And my pumps are Jimmy Choo, not Prada. So much for her great influencing. Not that I can tell Prada from Jimmy, either, but then I wasn’t born with a silver spoon up my ass.
I’m tempted to take a quick selfie and post about the fact that I’m sitting at Susanne Corporate, but I don’t. That would be truly unprofessional. I’d only be doing it to show off, and that’s not me.
God, Addie brings out the worst in me.
Ding!
Another text.
I roll my eyes and look at my screen.
That butt plug doesn’t, either.
What the fuck?
First she knew about the nipple clamps at the gala and now this? Does she truly know Braden’s MO that well? More than a decade has passed since they were t
ogether. What isn’t Braden telling me?
Damn. I promised I’d leave this alone. So Addie knows I’m wearing a butt plug. So what? Maybe I’m walking funny.
Except I’m not. At least I don’t think I am.
If Braden is telling the truth, and they were over a long time ago, then she knows his MO for one of two reasons. He either did the same thing with her long ago, or she’s still stalking him and knows his MO with women.
Which means he’s doing the same thing with me as he’s done with others.
It shouldn’t bother me.
But it does.
Then I realize… This is exactly what Addie wants. She wants to knock me off my game. It’s a mind fuck.
I’m not going to let her win.
“Skye.”
I look up from my phone.
Eugenie stands in front of me, tall and graceful, her graying hair cut in a pixie Jamie Lee Curtis style. She’s composed and elegant. The epitome of what an older executive woman should look like, at least in my mind.
Braden’s plug reminds me why I’m here. I stand and meet her gaze. Sort of. She’s taller than I am, so I have to look up.
Eugenie holds out her hand. “You’re even prettier in person.”
My cheeks warm, and I take her hand and shake it firmly. “As are you. So nice to finally meet you.”
“Come on back. I have some of the marketing team ready in the conference room. We’re all very excited to talk to you about what we have planned.”
Are you still working with Addison?
I desperately want to ask, but I can’t. It’s childish and unprofessional. So what if they’re working with her? What do I care, as long as they work with me? Addie still has a much greater following than I do.
We enter a conference room where three other people already sit. “Skye, I’d like you to meet Shaylie Morse, Brian Kent, and Louisa Maine. Shaylie and Brian are members of my social media marketing team, and Louisa is interning with us. She’s a student at Columbia.”
“Great to meet you all,” I say, trying my hardest not to stammer.
“Come, sit.” Eugenie gestures. “We have tons to talk about.”
I sit down, resisting the urge to squirm against Braden’s butt plug.
“Shaylie,” Eugenie says, “why don’t you outline our plan for Skye?”
Shaylie, a pretty redhead who wears heart-shaped glasses—yes, I’m serious—fires up her laptop, and an image appears from the projector onto the white dry-erase board. “Skye, we’re excited to have you on board for several reasons. First, you know the business, having worked with Addison Ames. Second, your skill as a photographer is excellent, and your copy is always intriguing as well. And third—”
