“You’re a good girl, doll,” I told her gently, buttoning up my blazer. “I’ll be in touch soon.”
She stared at me incredulously as I went to the door, grinned at her and closed the door behind me. She looked upset, but I didn’t have time to deal with her insecurities.
Business was on my mind as I got in my car and pulled off her driveway. I’d been having problems with a co-worker for a while, and I had a feeling the issues I had with him were about to come to a head. I knew I had to talk to him, but because he was a personal friend of mine as well, I’d been putting it off for months. But now, with the business at stake, I couldn’t really avoid it any longer. I had to speak to Geralt. I needed to make sure he understood how important this was for me.
I’d built my business from the ground up. My company was something I’d started myself and worked on for most of my adult life. I was incredibly proud of it, and I wasn’t going to let a self-entitled, jealous prick bring it down just because he could. And at the end of the day, he never really was my friend if the allegations of what he was doing were true.
My assistant who’d been with me from the start had informed me she had suspicions about Geralt trying to poach our investors for a side project he’d been working on for a couple of years. I knew all about his little idea, because he’d pitched it to me half a year ago.
And I was still in the same mindset about the new banking software he was developing—I assumed largely on work hours, when he was supposed to be working on our own projects. I paid him for that, after all. But Geralt had an idea, and he was convinced it was a good one even after I tried to explain how it would fail in the end. He wouldn’t listen. And now, he was trying to use his position at my company to get investors for his own, already-doomed product. I wasn’t having it. Any of it.
And as hard as it had been leaving Cleo in that sexy little outfit, I knew I had to deal with business before I could spend time with her the way I really wanted to.
I stopped at home and looked over some papers, preparing myself for the meeting ahead. I was too busy to even check my phone, and by the time I set off to work, I was in a shitty mood all over again.
The drive to work was excruciating, with my cock straining painfully against my pants thinking of her on her knees. I knew I was already fucked. I was completely, utterly addicted to that little vixen and she didn’t even know it yet. Although I was sure if she did, she would use it to its full advantage.
I pulled up at work and met my assistant in the lobby. From her worried expression, I instantly knew something was wrong.
“What is it?” I barked at her.
“He’s not here,” she admitted.
“What do you mean he’s not here?” I felt my blood pressure rising. “I need to talk to him. We scheduled this meeting a week ago. He said he’d be early.”
“He called in and said he can’t make it,” she told me.
I felt so angry I wanted to smash my fist through the wall, but I forced myself to calm down.
“So I drove all the way here for nothing?” I asked her, and she gave me an apologetic look. “Fine. I’ll deal with this myself. But I have something more important to do right now.”
We said our goodbyes and I went back to my car, smashing my fist against the steering wheel and making it honk. I was really fucking pissed, but the real reason was, I didn’t want to leave Cleo for nothing. And now it seemed as if I did.
I remembered Cleo telling me she had an afternoon shift that day, and I decided to go see her at the bookstore where she worked. Those bitches who worked with her needed to see her with a real man to remind them she was the real catch of that place, not them. I hated the way they treated her. Cleo had only told me a little bit about it but I was already convinced they were the spawn of the devil. No offense to Mr. Featherstone, the owner of the store who Cleo seemed to be fond of.
The drive took me thirty minutes again and by the time I arrived, I was impatient and craving my girl.
I pulled up in a back alley just as it started to get dark outside. It was probably nearing the end of her shift, and I was glad I was going to catch her just before she left. I wanted to correct the impression I’d made on her when I left her in her living room earlier.
Walking into the store, she wasn’t anywhere to be seen. As soon as I came in, though, two ridiculous women approached me in seconds. One I recognized from the last time I’d been there, and the other one must’ve been the sidekick Cleo had mentioned. Grace and Jacqueline. Perfect. Just in time to take the brunt of my bad mood.
“I’m looking for Cleo,” I said as they approached me.
“Cleo?” One of them furrowed her perfectly-done brows. “She left a while ago.”
I turned to leave, but she caught me by the sleeve and pulled me back playfully. I gave her a questioning look while the woman next to her giggled in what I was sure she thought was a seductive way.
“I really need to get going if she’s not here,” I said pointedly, and she looked at me through obviously fake lashes.
“I’m sure we can help, too,” she said sweetly. “I noticed you the last time you were here.”
“Would be hard not to,” her friend purred. “We’re here for whatever you need, sir.”
They giggled and I stared at them.
“Actually,” I said. “I’d love to speak to your manager.”
“Of course,” the other girl said, calling out into the back. “DAD! Someone wants to talk to you.”
They giggled and stepped to the side while an older man approached me. He looked weary and tired, but I could sense he was a good man. Cleo had spoken about Mr. Featherstone briefly, and I knew she liked him, so I decided to give him a chance.
“Hello,” I said pleasantly. “I’d like to complain about these two.”
I pointed to the girls and they stared at me in shock as I went on.
“They’ve been very unprofessional every time I’ve been here,” I continued. “My suggestion is you put them to work in the back, because they’re clearly not fit to work in the bookstore. Your other employee, though—I believe her name is Cleo? She’s an absolute delight. She deserves a promotion.”
The man stared at me, and burst out laughing the next second.
“I like you,” he told me. “We’re going to get along well. You’re Cleo’s new guy?”
“You could say that.” I grinned back, hearing the two bitches whisper between themselves. “She said something about me?”
“Nothing too great.” The older gentleman winked at me. “Though I’m sure you’re just what she needs. She’s in the back, by the way, by the back exit. She took some boxes outside.”
“Thank you,” I said. “And keep what I said in mind. She deserves a promotion, and we both know it.”
The man laughed as I went outside, trying to locate the back exit. I walked down the parking lot and finally found a tiny back alley with some dumpsters for cardboard. Two figures were lingering next to a wall.
As soon as I saw them, my mouth set in a thin line, and my mind raced into overdrive. What the fuck was going on here?
“Cleo?” I called out as I approached them, and she turned to face me with a completely terrified expression. “Is everything okay?”
The man standing in front of her took a step closer, as if he was trying to shield her body from mine.
“Flynn,” she called out weakly. “Flynn, please help.”
I raced over there and grabbed the man by his lapels, pulling him off her. The second I had him in my hands I recognized the familiar stench of his cologne, his smug face, and that light brown hair.
“Geralt?” I asked incredulously, and he snarled at me. “What the fuck is going on here?”
“Fuck off, man,” Geralt told me. “This is the chick I told you about. The girl from online. I sent you her link, remember?”
And all of a sudden, I did.
He was the one who’d told me about the mysterious girl recording herself online.<
br />
He was the one who’d sent me the link.
He was the one who’d been terrorizing her over the past week.
I let go of him and just stared.
“Man, she doesn’t want you,” I told him. “You need to back the fuck off before I do something I may or may not regret. Got it?”
He laughed in my face.
“I’m not leaving,” he said darkly. “I found her first. Look at this bitch.”
We both looked at her, cowering in fear, so obviously terrified.
“She doesn’t want it like this,” I told him. “Not like this. Not this scared.”
“And you would know?” he snarled at me. “The fuck are you even doing here? Get lost.”
I let my rage take over and pulled him back. It only took a single punch to knock him to the ground.
“She’s my business now,” I told him as he lay moaning on the ground. “You fucking touch one hair on her head, you’re dead meat.”
I grabbed Cleo by her waist and pulled her against me. She was shaking like a leaf.
“You’re done here,” I grunted at Geralt. “And at the company. And if I see you one more time, I’ll make everything public, you sorry sonofabitch.”
I pushed Cleo in front of me, away from that bastard. And I knew I’d remember the look of fear in his eyes for the rest of my life. It was more satisfying than our friendship had ever been.
2 years later
“Don’t make a fucking sound,” he groaned into my ear. I gasped against his palm when it flattened across my mouth. He was holding me down, his other hand on my tummy, pressing me down onto the bed and making me struggle against his rough touch.
“I know what you want,” he told me. “I know what a dirty little bitch you are.”
I whimpered against his skin, licking the salty taste off the palm of his hand. He tasted perfect. My pussy was throbbing with need, so ready to have him plunge his cock inside and claim what had already been given to him freely. Even after all this time, he still took me this way, the way I dreamed of, the way I needed him to claim me.
“Suck my fingers,” he ordered, and I opened my mouth like a good girl, letting him in. He forced three long, thick and strong fingers deep down my throat and I moaned loudly as he started to fuck my mouth. He wouldn’t let me take a single break, not even for a split second, just fucking my mouth with his fingers as if that’s what they were made to do.
His other hand reached for my panties and tore them off while I struggled, ripped them right off my body and discarded the torn fabric by the side of the bed. My gasps were getting louder and he added another finger into my mouth to shut me up. I knew I was supposed to be quiet, a good, docile little doll for him to play with, but whenever he took me this way I had trouble holding back. I needed him. Wanted him. I wanted him to force me. I knew my orgasms would be the best that way, and from the way my pussy tightened underneath his palm, I knew this night would be no different.
He slid his palm over my skin, up to my navel and then up to my tits, fingering my nipples through the thin fabric of my white T-shirt. He grabbed both of my hands and held them down, and took the shirt off me slowly, reveling in every inch of my skin that was now exposed to his hungry eyes. I let him do it. I only struggled a little. I just wanted him to take what he wanted, take what he needed, use me the way I knew we both needed.
My body arched against his touch, so desperate to have him closer, to make him go deeper. I ached for him. Ached for every touch of his rough fingers, for every dirty word he threw in my direction. I lived for the thrill, and I only ever came for him. He was completing me. Fulfilling me. Making me the dirty slut, the perfect lover, the good girl housewife he wanted me to be. I belonged to him completely.
“Spread your fucking legs,” he said, and I eagerly opened myself up for him, my naked cunt glistening with the need I felt for him to push inside me.
He moved his hand away from my mouth and I fought back a loud moan, reminding myself I needed to be quiet.
“Please, sir,” I begged. “Please fuck me.”
“You want to be fucked?” he growled at me, his hands freeing that big beautiful cock from his pants and stroking it for me. “You want to be used? You want me to take your body and make it into my perfect little fucktoy? Just have fun with you until I can’t fuck that pussy anymore ’cause my cock no longer fits into your sore little cunt?”
“Yes,” I whispered. “Please, yes.”
“Good fucking girl,” he breathed. “Spread yourself wider. Legs open as far as you can. Let me see my pussy get wet.”
I reached between my legs with shaky fingers, pulling back the lips of my pussy to show him what he was doing to me. A little mewl escaped me and he growled, stroking his cock in long, angry motions that told me I wasn’t going to get it gently. He was going to use me within an inch of my body, and by the time we were done, I’d be a pretty little mess for him, just like he wanted.
“Spit on me, sir,” I begged, and he grinned down at me before opening his mouth and letting his saliva dribble onto my pussy.
“Rub it in,” he ordered. “Rub that spit into your clit, my pretty little doll.”
My fingers worked to fulfill his order, and my body ached with need as I watched him stroke himself. He was pushing me again, letting me skirt the edge of my orgasm but never really letting me come, and it was driving me wild. I needed him to. I needed him to fuck me until my whole body resisted, until my pussy pushed him out because I couldn’t take another thrust. But he wasn’t letting me have any of it, not just yet, and it was driving me fucking crazy.
“You need to come, don’t you?” he asked me sweetly, and I nodded over and over again, hoping he would let me.
“Just once, sir,” I begged. “Just once, just for you. Only one time, I promise.”
“You only want to come once?” he asked with raised eyebrows. “Right now? You want it right now?”
“Yes,” I said. I needed him. I didn’t care. “Please, sir.”
“You know I won’t let you come for the rest of the night?” he asked, and I kept nodding, over and over again. “Very well, doll. Let yourself come for me and remember this is the only time you get to, so it better be good.”
“Can I touch myself?” I wanted to know, my voice breathless and my body so very close.
“No,” he replied with a wicked grin. I moaned in protest, but before I could say anything, my body pushed me over the cliff, pushed me into pleasure so intense I couldn’t say another single word. I came like I was meant to do only that, come in front of his eyes while he watched my body spasm, my pussy get wet and my eyes beg his for so much more.
“Such a loud little slut,” he told me affectionately, his palm caressing my cheek. “I love it when you’re loud for me, doll.”
And only when I was done coming, he pushed inside me, fucking my sore pussy until I screamed for him to stop. But he wouldn’t. He never did.
He just pushed past the pain I was feeling and showed me a new world of pleasure. Pleasure so restrained I couldn’t come, but edged instead until I thought I would pass out from the anticipation. He held my legs up, hooked my own hands under my knees and made me open myself up for him while he took what he wanted. He fucked me for what felt like hours. He used my body. He used me until he was satisfied, until he spurted cum all over me, pulling out once he’d filled my pussy and letting the last spurt go all over my naked stomach.
I lay back breathless, unable to stop the impending orgasm that ripped itself desperately from my body, moaning and begging so loudly for him I was sure we were making too much noise.
He pulled on my hair roughly, making me get on my knees and dripping his cum from my stomach. He forced my lips to his cock and my eyes to his, and he grinned at me, totally out of breath and as sweaty as I was.
“Clean,” he ordered, and I let my mouth go to work eagerly, desperately. I cleaned him off and he groaned as I got all of it, licked off every last bit of his cum and the
n smacked my lips once I was done.
We lay back on the bed, my body feeling fragile in his arms as he stroked me, his cock lying against his stomach, still semi-hard.
“You’re perfect,” he told me softly. “You’re the perfect little doll. I love you, Cleo.”
“I love you, sir,” I whispered back, but he flipped me onto my stomach, getting on top of me and binding my arms behind my back. I moaned, unable to take more of what he’d just given me.
“No,” he said roughly as I gasped into the pillow. “Not sir, not right now. My name, doll. Now.”
“F-Flynn,” I stuttered.
“Yes?” he asked roughly. “The whole sentence, Cleo, you know how it goes.”
“I love you, Flynn Masters,” I giggled, and he let me go, turning me on my back and kissing my lips, not giving a fuck that I still tasted like him.
“Good girl, doll,” he said, smoothing down my hair. “Such a good fucking girl.”
I settled into his arms, loving every second of being with him like this. They were few and far between these days.
“Think we woke her up?” I asked softly, and he looked at the baby monitor on the nightstand. The green light was on, but there was no sound.
“No,” he said. “Our baby girl’s safe and sound. Now come here so I can touch that beautiful body.”
I climbed on top of him, my eyes looking over the frames we’d filled the walls of my house with. Him, me, us, the baby. We were really a family now. He’d even given up his position at his firm, uprooted his whole life to move in with me. It was perfect, fucked up, messy and beautiful.
Just like us.
THE END
To Jade West, who taught me taboo is a good thing and inspired me with the first book she’d ever written, turning me into a rabid fangirl.
Peep Show Page 31
