by Ana Fawkes
When I finally found myself, Jonathan pulled from me and pushed my body back to the bed. I bounced and gasped for air, then reached out, needing more of him. As he came forward, my fingers found his chest. By touch, I was able to study his muscular curves. I then felt him touch my stomach… his moist erection as it climbed up my body. I started to shudder as he spoke, directing our next task.
“Sit up and move back,” he said. “I want you to taste us, what we’ve done.”
I pushed up on the bed and swallowed hard, then licked my lips. The bed bounced as Jonathan came towards me. I put my hand out and felt him, felt his long erection in my hand. My hand was only a few inches from my mouth and I opened my mouth, waiting for him.
“Taste us,” he said. “Have me.”
I put my head forward and licked with my tongue. The first lick I received nothing but air. The second lick, however, was all Jonathan. I tasted his fleshy tip and then his hard shaft. My lips were eager as I tasted him. I moved down his shaft as he thrust himself forward, filling my mouth. I could taste a sweet erotic mix that left my body tingling. I moaned with him in my mouth and he grunted. One of his hands touched my head, his fingers sliding into my hair as things sped up again.
As fast as I moved on him, he moved in me.
I envisioned the airplane again, knowing how Jonathan tasted when he climaxed. Thinking about it made me want it more. I moved faster, keeping my lips tight, listening to him as he enjoyed it. My hand held the base of his erection and I stroked him as I sucked, finally being able to use my mouth and hand at the same time.
Jonathan increased his grip on my hair and then slowly pulled out of my mouth.
I shook my head.
No, no.
I wanted to have him in my mouth again.
“Open your legs again,” he said.
I slid back down and listened.
When he came back to my slit, he was deep inside me before I could take a breath. He was fast and aggressive, thicker than before. I knew he was so close to his climax already, he just wanted to savor my body for a few more seconds.
He did.
He grunted as he thrust and my body accepted him. I tried to thrust back at him but he was in control of this.
So I enjoyed and waited.
His speed reached a furious pace and then with a hard buck, he lifted my backside off the bed for a few seconds as he started to come. It was the most intense orgasm I had ever felt from a man. He was deeper than I could ever remember him. He held there, moaning in pleasure, offering small pumps but trying to hold in place. After a few intense seconds, he moved in and out of me, finishing himself with my body.
I felt his hand reach behind my head and he loosened the blindfold, letting it fall off my face.
I could see; see him, see everything.
I looked to his face, needing to see the sexy man who had me. Then I moved down, from his sweaty muscles down to our sex as he still thrust me. He was soft and gentle and then finally pulled out.
As he climbed off the bed, I remained in place, not sure if I was able to move… or allowed to move on my own.
“Isabella Grace,” Jonathan said again. “I’m going to shower. I have a meeting to tend to…”
“With your partner?”
“Oliver Rush is nobody’s partner. He’s slime. He’s scum. And he’s about to find out what happens when you fuck with me.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. I had hit a nerve and while most of me wanted to tease that nerve, the look in Jonathan’s eyes was hateful enough to make me look away.
“Here, look at him,” Jonathan said.
He walked to the kitchenette and held out a magazine for me. I took it and found one of the pages folded. The headline read: A NEW GAME FOR AN OLD PLAYER. A man stood with his arms folded, his lips puckered, and eyes were colored red. He looked demonic and nothing short of a man that belonged behind bars rather than in a suit and tie.
“He thinks he’s worth billions,” Jonathan said. “But it’s all my doing. And I’m going to undo it. Today. I can’t tolerate him anymore.”
I skimmed the article, not really understanding much of the terminology but it seemed that Oliver Rush was leveraging his name – and Jonathan Black’s name – into deals that I could only assume Jonathan didn’t like nor approve.
“I’m pulling my shares out of our venture and walking away,” Jonathan said. “He can stand in the fire alone then and face all he created. I’m the muscle. I’m the equity. I have the power.” Jonathan tore the magazine from my hand and threw it across the room. “Not him.”
I just listened. Jonathan repeated “Not him” three more times and then disappeared into the bathroom. His booming voice was replaced by the soft sounds of running water. I placed my head back to one of the pillows and in a matter of seconds, I was asleep.
-8-
I woke to the sound of Jonathan. His large hands ran up my legs and I woke without opening my eyes. I fought to keep my eyes shut, trying to pretend to be asleep. I wanted to see how far he’d go to wake me.
I was still naked so he had full access to my body, but being him, being the man of control and command, he tortured me sexually. His hands stayed on my legs, his thumbs fluttering between my legs towards my sex, but he kept going. He stayed at my sides, his thumbs pressing hard against my ribs as he passed by. What a feeling… something that wasn’t erotic but felt so. Next came my breasts that he barely touched. I finally let out a sigh as my skin broke out with a desperate chill, wanting him to love me again.
“Isabella Grace,” he said. “It’s time…”
I opened my eyes and smiled at him.
He looked amazing. Tall, sexy, and surging with confidence. He was in a different suit, just as black as the previous one, but this one had a little shine to it. It looked more expensive, held more power. There was something in the back of his eyes though that I couldn’t read. Maybe it was worry, maybe it was pain. If he was going to break a partnership that he’d had for over ten years, this couldn’t be an easy day.
I now understood why he brought me.
He needed me but he would never admit it.
He needed me to control… to cuff, to blindfold, to enjoy.
And I was okay with that. I was actually in need of it.
“I’m leaving now, for a little bit.”
I nodded.
“I want you to dress yourself.”
I looked to the pile of clothes on the floor, the ones I had been wearing all morning and all day.
“I promise,” he said, “when I get back you’ll be able to get other clothes.”
“Really?” I asked.
Jonathan reached into his pocket and pulled out a stack of money that made my jaw drop. I’m not a money hungry woman but to see such a large collection of money was breathtaking.
“Twenty thousand,” he said as he placed it on the nightstand next to the bed. “But I want to go with you. I want to be with you at all times outside this hotel room.”
“I understand,” I whispered.
“I hope you do, Isabella Grace. Because our trust…” He paused and looked towards the window. He was staring out to the Los Angeles skyline but I doubt he really saw it.
When he finally came back to reality, to the present, to me, he said in a calm, serious voice, “I’m going to keep you here. I need to know for my own sake that you’re here.”
“Of course I’m here,” I said. “I wouldn’t leave.”
“A naïve businessman isn’t a businessman, Isabella Grace. Now, dress yourself, I have no time to waste.”
I moved from the bed and put my clothes back on. I was never fond of wearing dressy skirts to begin with and today, even with being used in and out of the skirt, I hated them even more. I would have preferred to just stay naked, waiting for Jonathan to come back.
But he thought otherwise.
Once I was fully dressed, he retrieved the two items from the bag.
My eyes went wide.
He walked to the kitchenette, took one of the chairs, and brought it next to the bed. He placed it on the floor and pointed to it.
“Sit.”
I did.
“Put your hands behind your back.”
I did.
Jonathan handcuffed my hands behind the chair. When the cuffs were fully engaged, I leaned forward and tried to move my hands. No way I was getting out of this. I glanced back at the money on the nightstand and felt a little upset.
Jonathan didn’t trust me enough.
Did he really think that twenty thousand dollars would make me run off on him? If so, why even leave the money then?
I turned my head and looked up at him. When our stares met, something inside me flickered… I wanted something nobody else had I wanted, Jonathan Black’s trust.
He brought his hands up, holding the blindfold, and he placed it back to my eyes.
This time when he tied it, he kept it a little loose which I appreciated because I had no idea how long he’d be gone. I couldn’t imagine the pressure of the blindfold against my head without the intense pleasure of Jonathan’s tongue or erection touching me.
“I need to know I can trust you,” he said as his hand touched my hair. “I shouldn’t be long. Hour, maybe two. I want to come back and find my sweet Isabella Grace tied up, blindfolded, and begging for me. There’s nothing quite like that wild urge and need for someone… is there?”
“No,” I said understanding exactly what he meant.
His lips came down and touched mine, then he was gone.
The door shut and I waited.
The blindfold gave me a little more light than the last time he used it. It was layered perfectly so that as I blinked, I started to move it, opening it just enough to bring silhouettes into view.
Being under Jonathan Black’s command meant never knowing what came next.
Ever.
-9-
The door to the hotel room opened and I knew it couldn’t have been an hour. Then again, when you’re handcuffed, blindfolded, and turned on, time loses its essence. I froze and watched as a figure walked through the door.
I wanted to say something sexy to him but I didn’t. I resorted to biting my lip, wanting to make it as though I were in trouble or frightened, anything to please Jonathan Black’s wicked needs.
He walked into the room and started to look around at everything. He played it coy, pretending I wasn’t even there. As he walked around the couch in the room, avoiding me all together, he ended up behind me. I tried to take deep breaths of the room, wanting to catch even the slightest hint of his cologne. Nothing came to me.
Damn.
I turned my head, enough that the blindfold moved some more, opening the smallest sliver of actual light. His hand reached down and touched the money on the nightstand.
Really?
Was he here to get the damn money?
Was he that obsessed with money?
Did he really believe that I’d hurt myself to get out of a chair for money?
I almost burst out screaming, wanting to cause a scene, but I held back. If Jonathan was that troubled of a man, he needed someone like me to succumb to him and to show him he could trust.
Living in hate was no way to live.
He took the money from the nightstand and I assumed he put it in his jacket. I quickly turned my head, looking forward again. When I turned my head, the blindfold came together, taking almost all my sight again.
Damn.
When I felt him touch the back of my neck, my body shuddered and I moaned. He let out a long sigh and then I felt him put his nose to my hair and inhale me. Using his hand, he pushed on my neck, forcing me to look down. His lips arrived at the back of my neck a second later and I let out a whimper, feeling my body gushing again. His tongue flickered once, a different kind of flicker than I was used to, and I tensed up.
He whispered “SShhh…” and then moved away.
After a few seconds of silence, his hands touched my legs, over my skirt. Staring forward I saw nothing. I tried to look down, catching a very quick glimpse of him on his knees but he shot his hand up at me, forcing me to look forward.
“Yes,” I whispered.
His hands gently moved down my legs to the edge of my skirt. Then it was his bare skin on my bare skin. I really wished he would have just let me not wear this skirt anymore. At my knees, he squeezed for a second.
Again, something seemed different.
He didn’t have that erotic strength. It was now a gentle kind of strength…
“Jonathan?”
“Shhh…”
My heart bounced against my chest like a hammer, the sexual urges becoming something else.
His hands were on my thighs, aggressively sliding between my legs. My muscles tensed up and I refused to open my legs. There’d be hell to pay for denying Jonathan Black… but something told me…
“Open your legs.”
I gasped for air. I shook my head. I thrashed. The blindfold moved just enough and I looked down…
It wasn’t Jonathan Black.
-10-
“Get away from me!” I cried out.
“I can’t do that sweetheart,” the man said.
His hands tried to claw at my inner thighs but I was stronger than him. At least for the moment I was. I couldn’t hold up like this for long. Not without vision. Not without my hands.
Oh, my hands.
Handcuffed, blindfolded, and now a stranger trying to touch me.
I struggled to see the man’s face but he kept his head down.
“Pete? Pete Cresh?” I asked, my voice already cracking. “Is that you?”
“Whoa sweetheart,” the man said, “just how many men are you fucking? Are you Black’s favorite? Huh? Is that what it is? He wants his puppy tied up for when he gets home from work?”
“Stop it. Who are you?”
I felt my legs wanting to kick but I resisted. I needed a plan. One wrong move and this guy could have his way with me.
“I’m someone Black can’t control,” the man said.
His hands squeezed my legs again.
“Stop touching me there!” I cried out.
“Ask nicely.”
“Please,” I whispered.
“No, no, that won’t do. Beg for me, sweetheart. Beg.”
I shook my head. My mind wanted to say Fuck you… but I couldn’t risk my life, not like this.
“How did you get in here? How did you get a key?”
“Ask Black,” the man said. “He’s the know it all, isn’t he?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I barely know him either. He put money on the dresser and told me to wait.”
I thought if I could play as a whore, the man would buy it. If he was here to hurt Jonathan, he wouldn’t hurt a whore, would he?
“He did the same thing to me for years,” the man said. “Not quite like this, not literally, but he left money on the dresser and cuffed me away from it. Teasing me. Showing me. Commanding me. How do you stand it? I know I couldn’t.”
“I do what I’m told,” I replied.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said. “I wish I could see your eyes.”
“Take off the blindfold then.”
He laughed.
His hands touched my sides and I wiggled my hands and body. That only made the man enjoy it more so I stopped. When his hands climbed over my breasts, I put my head back and let out a desperate moan. A growling moan. A hate filled moan.
“Just stop this,” I said. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want Black to feel pain,” the man said. “Real pain. The pain he caused me and everyone else in his life. He’s a worthless man, a worthless human. The only thing he has is money. Nothing else but money.”
I felt the words pelting me, much like in the cab. I didn’t want to believe a thing, I wanted to stay committed to Jonathan Black’s request to trust him… and I tried… I really tried… but this was the second time in a day that I was th
reatened by some enemy of his.
“Why don’t you come with me, sweetheart? Come with me. I can treat you right. Show you the world, show you something beyond handcuffs and blindfolds. Is this what you really want out of your life? I’d shower you with roses, gentle kisses…”
“You don’t know me,” I said. “Get away from me. If Jonathan comes back…”
“Oh, Jonathan? Really? Nobody calls him Jonathan. So, you’re not a whore, are you? You’re really his?”
Fuck.
I’d put myself in a corner – handcuffed in a corner – over one word.
“I’m… I’m…”
The man stood and put his lips to mine, his tongue fluttering in my mouth. I pressed my head forward, trying to push him away as hard as I could. I screamed but it was muffled by his mouth on mine. He pulled away and let out a cackle of a laugh that ignited a flame inside of me that I’d never felt before. It was the fight or flight instinct kicking in. I obviously couldn’t flight out of the situation, so I had to fight.
My chances felt shattered when he took a gun from his suit jacket.
Another gun.
I wanted to cry and maybe should have, but I couldn’t get rid of the horrid taste in my mouth.
As he started to move the gun, my eyes were intent on it, through the inch of sight from the blindfold moving.
I knew I wasn’t going to be able to reach the gun right then so I did the next best thing possible… I kicked my foot up and when I felt it connect, I knew I had hit him square in the knee. The hit took him off guard and he feel to his knee, yelling in pain. He didn’t have his finger on the trigger of the gun and his head fell back for a second as he yelled. When he looked at me, I almost froze at the sight of his face, but my foot was swinging again. I kicked his wrist, sending the gun out of his hand. I wanted to follow it but I was stuck on his face.
“Oh my,” I said as I tried to swing my foot again.
This time, he grabbed my foot and twisted then pushed, sending me backwards.
I cried out for help and then watched as he stood over me. His face was red and in pain, but I knew that face. I’d remember it forever.
