“You mean heels?” I ask, with a smile. “Yeah.”
“Put them on.” I walk over to my closet and slip them on, then walk back.
“Better?” I ask, turning a little so he can see me from other angles.
“Nothing could make you look any better than you already do, Brynn. It wasn't about your appearance, it was about your height.” I frown at him in confusion. “Come here,” he says, walking over to the bedpost nearest to the door. I follow him. He takes me by the hips and moves me so that my back is pressed up against it. “You remember what happened in this exact spot? The first time I tried to kiss you, you denied me.”
I smile. “I remember how much self-control it took.”
“Good answer. Stay there.” He walks over to my bureau and rummages around until he pulls out a couple of my old t-shirts and then walks back. “Close your eyes.”
I obey, and feel him wrap one of the shirts around my head, tying it in the back but slightly to the side, so that it doesn't hit the bed post. As he steps back, I try to open my eyes to test the blindfold, and find I can't see anything.
“You trust me?” he asks. I nod. “Hands behind your back. Grip the bedpost.” I feel my insides clench as I obey, spreading my palms against the solid wood of the bed. A moment later, I feel the other t-shirt wrapping around both my wrists and the posts, holding me securely against it. “Pull against it.” I try, but don't get anywhere. “Good.” I can sense him leaning in toward me, and feel the heat emanating from his body.
“Brynn, tonight I'm going to make you beg for it, understand?” I feel his warm breath against my cheek and squirm in anticipation against my bondage. “I'm going to deny you until you can't take it anymore. Until you beg me. Say that you understand.”
“I understand.” He's barely touched me, and I can already feel how wet I am against my new panties. Suddenly, I feel his fingertips on my arm, just above where the t-shirt is holding me to the bed. He trails his fingers lightly up my arm, barely touching me. My mouth drops open and I feel my heart rate speed up. His fingers continue across my clavicle, then down my other arm. As they make their way back up, I attempt to arch against him, but I can't.
He stops for a moment, then continues, his touch leaving a burning trail across my body. His fingers run straight down my chest and over the middle of my bra. Just as I think he's going to skip my breasts entirely, he moves back up and barely grazes the tops of my breasts, just above the cups. I gasp as he makes contact, but he quickly moves away, running his fingers down to my ribcage, then across my stomach. They dip for a moment into my belly button, and I hope he's going to continue down to my panties, but he skips them entirely, jumping down to the top of my thighs. He traces the length of one of my legs, then moves to the other.
As his fingers reach the top of my left leg, he breaks off contact. I feel sweat collect on my palms, despite the coolness of my bedroom. Where is he? Suddenly I feel his breath on my neck. Then his tongue is inside my ear, taking a long, languid lick. I moan, and my hands grip the bedpost more tightly. I hear him click his tongue.
“Brynn, we've barely even started.”
I let my head fall back against the bedpost. How long is he going to torture me? As if in response, his hand slides up my neck to my chin, holding my face in place. His lips press against mine, roughly opening my mouth to his tongue. Then he steps into me, his legs spreading mine open, his arms wrapping tightly around my waist. The full contact is sweet relief, even if it does make me want him even more. His right hand glides over my ass and pulls me against his erection. My mouth is wide open to his, and our tongues massage each other's.
His other hand glides up my stomach and slips under my bra cup. I moan as I feel his calloused palm against my nipple. He pulls his mouth away quickly and leans his torso back. His fingers brush against the front of my bra for a moment, and then I feel his deft fingers unhook the front closure of my new bra. I feel my breasts spring out, and his thumbs brush against my nipples as he cups them in his hands. He begins to massage them more strongly, and suddenly I feel him sucking my right nipple into my mouth. He flicks his tongue across it as he sucks, then moves to my other side.
“I'm ready,” I moan.
“Uh-uh, not yet,” he replies, pulling my breast out of his mouth for a moment. Then he begins to trail kisses down my stomach, pausing for a moment to circle his tongue in my belly button. I feel him graze his fingers across the narrow strips of fabric on the sides of my panties. “I like these very much,” he murmurs. “Maybe we'll try to keep these on.”
Then he's gone. I hear the sounds of what could be his shirt being pulled over his head, but I can't be sure. There's silence for another minute, and I'm suspended in this pool of pleasure where he's left me, completely under his control.
I gasp as I feel him blow a stream of warm breath against my panties and feel my body shake involuntarily. His hands run up my thighs and then under the sides of my underwear, and I know he must be kneeling in front of me. I feel him slowly dip one finger under the right side of my panties, pulling them away from my body and tucking them to the other side. He blows on me again, and now his breath hits my clit directly.
“Spread your legs,” he commands me quietly. I obey, inching myself out on my high heels. His tongue slides into my slit and I cry out.
“Oh, Nate,” I moan, and he begins to flick his tongue back and forth across me. I unravel quickly, and he begins to speed up, circling his tongue rapidly. But just as I'm on the brink, my body arching as much as it can, he slows down again. I whimper. He doesn't stop completely, but he's not going fast enough to bring me release.
His right hand slips over my ass, under the fabric of my panties. I gasp as he slips one finger inside me. I've never had anything back there. He circles it inside me, mirroring his actions with his tongue. Once I get over my surprise at the foreign feeling, I find that I like it. On top of everything that he's already done to me, and is still doing, it's driving me right toward the edge again.
I moan as he slips two fingers from his other hand inside my opening, making a beckoning motion against my g-spot. I feel a spasm begin to rip through my body, but he pulls his mouth away completely. My knees almost buckle at the empty feeling he's left behind.
“Nate…” I protest. He leans back in, flicking his tongue once, hard, over my clit. My body ripples in response. The pleasure has built up inside me to such an extent that being unable to let go of it feels painful. I need him to let me come.
“Yes?” he answers innocently, and tortures me with another hard flick of his tongue, his fingers still circling slowly inside me.
“Please…” The pleasure is overloading my brain, and I can barely think.
“Please what?”
“I need you…please. I need you inside me right now. Please, I'm begging you. I'm begging you, Nate.”
I almost faint with relief as he takes his fingers out of me and I hear the sound of a condom being ripped open. He steps into me and grabs one of my legs, wrapping it around his waist as he thrusts into me. I cry out at the contact. He drives in hard, slamming me against the bed post, and on just his second thrust, I feel my orgasm finally releasing through me as he presses into me again and again. His mouth covers mine as the last waves of pleasure crest over me. Even though I'm exhausted, I can feel that he's still hard inside me.
I feel him reach behind me, and realize that he's unknotting the t-shirt around my hands. My arms drop to my sides, and he pulls out of me. I feel him taking my hips and turning me, then he presses one hand roughly down on my back and I realize he's pressing my top half down onto the mattress. I turn my head to the side so I can breathe as he pulls my panties, still bunched to one side, to my ankles. His hand still holding me down, I feel him enter me from behind.
Even though I'm spent from my first orgasm and all the build-up leading to it, I feel my body begin to respond again. I feel him slide his thumb into my ass and gasp. I never realized how many nerves endings were bac
k there.
“Brace yourself,” he warns me, and begins to thrust harder into me. My fingers search for the edge of the bed and I'm just able to grasp it as he drives in deeper than he ever has before. He plunges into me again and again, hitting my g-spot directly every time. A second orgasm takes me by surprise, as though it was lying dormant until he awoke it. My body arches and shakes as I feel him pull out of me and a wetness cover my back. As my body quiets, I hear him hurrying to the bathroom and then him rubbing a tissue on my back.
“I'm sorry, I don't know why I did that,” he murmurs.
“Hm? Did what?” I mumble, reaching up to remove the makeshift blindfold from my eyes.
“I…I came on you,” he replies, halting his wiping motions to look me in the eye.
“Nate…it's OK. It doesn't bother me,” I assure him.
“Really?” he asks, looking relieved. “I've never done that before, I just…I just wanted to see it on you, or something. I'm worried…I worry I push you too far.”
“I like what we do together,” I reply, stretching my arms above my head. “As far as I'm concerned, we're going to do a lot more, so you better get used to it.”
“Is that so?” he asks, with a smile.
“Yep. Now clean me off. If we're going to do this again tomorrow night, I need to get some sleep.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
The next day, Thornhill and Co. is abuzz with the official announcement of Mark Broadman becoming a new client. There's talk that other high-profile investors could follow suit, including some of Broadman's contacts in Silicon Valley. Apparently the tech crowd is quite interested in influencing public policy. I'm just glad that everyone is in such a good mood, because it helps me fit in. My relationship with Nate, not to mention our late night sessions, has me practically glowing.
Constance talks to me happily in our cubicle, the awkwardness of our first day of working together having finally melted away over the summer months. She swivels in her chair and raises her eyebrows at me as Greg walks by, giving me a small wave.
“OK, what happened there?” she asks conspiratorially.
“It was nothing,” I assure her, keeping my eyes on my computer, though I can see out of my periphery that she's still looking at me.
“Oh, come on. I won't tell. But it's obvious…I mean, for a couple weeks you guys were hanging out a bunch, and now he completely avoids you.”
I sigh. “We went on a couple dates, and then we decided to break it off. But please keep it between us, alright?”
“Mmhm,” Constance murmurs, swiveling back around. She can sense, rightfully so, that I'm not telling her the whole story.
Greg reacted as well as could be hoped when I told him I didn't want to go on any more dates with him. I blamed the office environment, and said I had extra pressure on me to be professional as the boss's stepdaughter, but I think he saw through that excuse. At least he could never guess the real reason. Now whenever I see him he's polite but standoffish.
I watch the corner of my screen, waiting to see if Allison will send me a Gchat message, but none arrives. I'll give it a little more time, and then reach out to her. I don't want to throw our whole friendship away over my relationship with Nate—not that we don't have some things to talk about. It's not that I need her approval exactly, but I do need her to stop judging.
“Lunch,” Constance says, nudging me. I stand up and see other people making their way to the big conference room. Pierce has had lunch catered for the whole office to celebrate the new client. As we walk in, I notice that the temporary wall to the kitchen has been pulled back to make way for everyone. Pierce and Roderick, his business partner, stand by the buffet, happily talking with their employees. Pierce smiles at me as Constance and I make our way up to grab some plates.
“Roderick, you've met my stepdaughter Brynn, right?”
“Yes, good to see you again, Brynn,” Roderick, a well-dressed man a bit younger than Pierce says, then turns away to shake someone's hand.
Pierce leans in. “You look particularly beautiful today, Brynn,” he remarks.
“Oh, thank you, Pierce,” I reply, a bit taken aback. Constance and I stand around the conference room for a while talking to the other interns, everyone sharing their plans for once they get back to school, and the rising seniors, like me, discussing what we'll do after we graduate. Eventually the crowd begins to thin out, and Constance and I each take a cupcake back to our cubicle.
“What's that? Vanilla?” she asks. I peer at the frosting.
“I think so, though I heard there were some coconut—” I break off as my desk phone rings. I look at it in surprise for a second—no one ever calls me on it—then reach forward to pick it up. “Brynn speaking.”
“Brynn, it's Pierce. Could you come into my office for a moment?”
“Oh, sure, I'll be right there.” I hang up and stand. “Pierce,” I explain to Constance. “Probably wants to see if I'll be home for dinner tonight.” She nods, and I walk down the hallway to his corner office. “He asked me to—” I explain to his secretary, Gwen.
“Sure, go on in,” she replies, waving me in. I knock softly as I open the door. He beckons me inside and indicates I should take a seat across from his desk.
“Brynn, thanks for coming in,” he says, standing and walking around his desk as he takes his reading glasses off and places them on his desktop calendar. I look at him curiously as he sits on the edge of his desk in front of me. “I know that I'm just your stepfather, but I hope that you know that you can always come to me with any…difficulties.”
“Um, sure. Yes, thanks,” I stumble, surprised by the direction of the conversation.
He stands and begins to pace behind my chair. “You're a very beautiful young woman, and I hope that you can see me as a sort of protector.” I feel him come up and stand behind the chair. I start as he brushes my hair to the side and I feel his fingers graze against my skin just above the fabric of my dress. “I couldn't help but notice this,” he says.
“What?” I ask, frowning.
“This bruise,” he explains, still holding my hair to the side.
“Oh.” My mind races. Shit. I bet I got it last night when Nate had me up against that bed post, and of course it's not in the sort of position where I'd see it. “Um, it's nothing. It's probably old, maybe from when I fell on that hike.”
“I doubt it. I mean, how far does it extend…” I'm horrified to feel him unzip the top of my dress, all the way down to my bra strap. He spreads his fingers across my back and a sickening feeling spreads through my body with them. “Brynn, you have such a beautiful body. You shouldn't be with someone who treats you with less respect than you deserve.” His fingertips just touch the top of my bra strap.
“Pierce!” I exclaim, and jump up. “I really don't think this is appropriate,” I admonish him with as much confidence as I can muster, while reaching behind myself to pull my zipper up.
“Brynn, I'm just trying to look out for you. You clearly need a father figure in your life.”
“I'm just fine, thank you very much,” I reply shortly, glaring at him as I manage to zip my dress. I march to the door, taking a deep breath to compose myself as I walk through the door. I walk right past my desk and into the bathroom, quickly locking myself inside a stall. I lower the toilet seat and sit down, pressing my hands onto my burning cheeks. I know Pierce's words were saying one thing, but his actions, his touch, were saying quite another. It just felt wrong.
By the time I sit back down at my desk, I'm already second-guessing myself. Maybe I misread his behavior; maybe he was just trying to look out for me, but he's never had a daughter, so he didn't realize he was making me uncomfortable.
“You OK?” Constance asks over her shoulder.
“I'm fine,” I reply, pushing my uneaten cupcake away. I'm not hungry anymore.
I manage to make it through the rest of the work day, though I know that I'll just have to see Pierce at home for dinner. As I drive home, I w
onder if I should say I'm sick or something so I'll be able to just be by myself in my room. But as I walk in through the garage, my mom calls me into the kitchen. I carefully spread my hair over my neck to hide the bruises, then walk in.
“Oh, Brynn, honey, I'm so glad you're home. Come look,” she gushes, pulling me into the dining room. I see that she's set it with fine china and crystal, and a massive vase of white lilies sits in the center. “I thought I'd do something a little special tonight to celebrate. What do you think?”
“Looks great, Mom,” I reply half-heartedly. If she notices my downtrodden mood, she doesn't mention it, she just sweeps me back into the kitchen to show me the extravagant meal she's spent the day preparing.
When Pierce comes home about half an hour later, he quickly enters his study, calling to us that he has to make a quick call. My mom asks me to carry the roasted duck out on a silver tray, and I acquiesce, knowing I'd feel too guilty to fake sick when she's spent so much time on the food. When I walk back into the kitchen, Pierce is murmuring into my mom's ear as she blushes, so I quickly back out again.
I hear Nate enter through the front door, and he walks into the dining room just as I'm leaning on the back of my chair.
“Hey,” he says with a smile. “I was thinking about you—” he breaks off as my mom and Pierce walk in. Pierce brandishes a bottle of champagne and walks around filling up our crystal flutes. I step back to give him a wide berth, and then we all sit down as he finishes filling up his own glass.
“Cheers,” he says. I avoid his eye contact as we all clink our glasses. Nate frowns at me slightly and I know he can tell there's something up. Oh god, I can't even think about talking to him later tonight. He can always tell when I'm lying, so I don't know what I'm going to say.
“Brynn, did you messenger those envelopes like I asked?” Pierce says, turning to me.
“Hm?” I ask, startled by his question.
Stepbrother Untouchable Page 14
