by Qwillia Rain
Just as he’d planned.
By the end of the week, the oils should be dry to the touch, thanks to the alkyds he’d mixed with the paint. The leather for the frame was coiled and waiting for him to braid into a rope on the workbench against the wall. Taking a sip from the scotch he’d poured earlier, he reached for his cell phone and punched in one of the programmed numbers.
A deep male voice answered, “Henderson.”
“David?”
“It’s past eleven, Halsey.”
“I need you to do a background check.”
“Couldn’t this wait…?”
“I need details.”
The private investigator paused, seeming to understand the curt tone as one not to be argued with. “Who?”
“Lawrence.”
“Lawrence who?”
“My Lawrence.”
“Mattie?”
The surprise in David’s voice made Bryce smile. “Yes.”
An exasperated sigh sounded over the phone. “My father did a thorough background search when you hired her.”
“Not what I want.” Taking a swallow of his drink, he waited for the mellow burn to loosen the twist in his gut. The damned knot had developed the moment he’d contemplated another man teaching Mattie how to use her mouth to bring pleasure. After the time he’d spent getting her pussy to accept his fingers, the knot had only tightened further.
“I want to know every man she’s ever been involved with, dated, or had coffee with in the last eight”—he caught himself—“no, ten years.”
“How detailed?”
“Down to the type of condom they used.”
“Staking your claim?”
He ignored the quip. “I want it before the end of the week.”
David was still cursing as he hung up. Setting his drink on the arm of his chair, Bryce rose and approached the painting. He didn’t attempt to touch the paint, knowing that the medium wasn’t fully dry, but his eyes traced the dark chocolate curls depicted on the canvas. It was most satisfying to know that his imagination had been accurate, all the way down to the carmine red of her nipples.
* * *
“I may not survive this week, Lyssa, so I need to know what you want when I write my will.” Mattie lay sprawled across the wide sofa in Lyssa’s living room, her body exhausted but well satisfied.
Looking up from the drawing table behind which she was perched on a tall stool, Lyssa examined her. The rise of her blonde eyebrows and the smirk on her lips assured Mattie she probably looked as debauched as she felt.
Hell, she had to grin herself. She’d never considered debauched such a stimulating and sexy term until she’d stumbled out of Bryce’s office two hours ago. A long, hot shower later, she’d pulled on her sloppy jeans and a sweatshirt and headed for her sister’s house.
“I guess I don’t need to ask if he agreed to your deal.”
Groaning, Mattie sat up and pulled one of the jewel-colored throw pillows into her lap. “Yup. One week to show me what it would be like to be his submissive.”
“And?”
“If I decide I can’t handle it, we’ll still get married, but he won’t ask me to submit to his Dominant side.”
Lyssa leaned an elbow on the table and propped her chin on her fist. “And if you can handle it?”
“While we’re married, if he needs to indulge in some bondage or Dominant/submissive play, he’ll come to me for it.”
The look on Lyssa’s face was hard to read. It seemed she had a mixture of amusement, surprise, and trepidation fighting to take over, but curiosity won when she finally asked, “So, how’d you like it?”
“It?” Mattie wasn’t sure just what “it” Lyssa meant.
“Sex.”
Heat filled her cheeks as she cleared her throat. “I didn’t…I mean, we aren’t…” Drawing a deep breath, she paused and tried again. “We didn’t have sex. Well, oral sex, but not…I mean, intercourse. We didn’t have intercourse.”
Lyssa choked on her laughter. “Why not? If you’re getting married anyway, why not indulge the need?”
Frustrated because those were the same thoughts whispering through her own head and ticked off that despite her climaxing multiple times, there was still an ache she couldn’t stop, Mattie grabbed one of the other pillows from the sofa and tossed it at her sister. The soft cushion whumped against the wall, carefully aimed to avoid the swatches of fabric pinned in place. “Because I don’t want to have to remember the sub sex.”
That only made Lyssa laugh harder. Leaving the stool, she gathered the pillow from the floor and tossed it back on the couch. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
Mattie rolled her eyes. “If I can’t handle the Dominant/submissive stuff, we won’t do it. Which means we’ll just be having regular sex. And if I have sex while seeing if I can handle being a submissive, then when we’re having regular sex, I’ll always be comparing it to the other kind of sex and wondering if Bryce is doing the same thing, and it’ll drive me crazy.”
Lyssa shook her head. “Sorry, sis, but you’re already there.”
“I know.” Mattie buried her face in the pillow and groaned. “This is all crazy. I should have never even thought about trying to get him to think of me that way.”
Pulling the pillow from her face, Lyssa smiled at her. “It’s going to be okay. Now, just breathe. In and out.” She waited for Mattie to follow her instructions and then nodded. “That’s it. Just take your time. Calm down.”
Relaxing back into the cushions, Mattie shook her head. “I’m not sure about it, Lys. If I’m this freaked out over a spanking and oral sex, just how bad am I going to be when he really starts with the kinky stuff?”
“Spanking?” Lyssa whistled and curled onto the couch. “Tell me more.”
Mattie couldn’t stifle the laughter her sister’s eager look prompted. “Knock it off.”
Leaning an arm on the back of the sofa, she rested her head against her propped fist and smirked. “It got your mind off freaking out, right?” Reaching out with her other hand, Lyssa patted Mattie’s knee. “Listen, you’re curious and scared and excited. I remember what it was like the first time I thought about having sex.”
“Oh ancient one, tell me!” Mattie yelped when Lyssa pinched her leg. “Ow.” Rubbing at the spot, she grimaced. “You’re only six years older than me, Lys, and I’m sure there were a dozen guys trying to get you into bed.”
“Maybe, but only one succeeded, and I wasn’t stupid enough to try it again, thank you very much.” There were very few occasions when Lyssa’s voice filled with that bitter tone; most of the time it was when they discussed their parents.
“That bad?”
It was Lyssa’s turn to flop back against the sofa cushions. “Let’s just say, it was disappointing.”
“I’m sorry.”
Her sister waved off her apology. “Not your fault, Mat. But I can understand what you mean about not wanting to have to remember one type of sex while you’re having another kind.”
Chapter Seven
If he could videotape this image, he would. The sight of Mattie stretched across his desk, her skirt folded neatly beside her, panties on top of it, was the stuff of fantasy. Watching the wet, pink lips of her pussy swallow the last two inches of the silver vibrator he was working in and out of her had his own cock sitting up and demanding attention. The scent of her arousal filled his nostrils, assuring him that his directions and his touch had produced the slick cream coating the shiny surface of the toy.
“That’s it, baby, take it all,” he encouraged, his eyes rising to take in the expressions crossing her face. Gauging just how deep and how fast he could press the vibe, he noted her sharp inhalations as he fed the last few inches into her. “Been so long, we don’t want you too sore…”
Lawrence, being who she was, didn’t disappoint him with a lame response. Instead, between moans and gasps, she reminded him, “You’re still assum…ahhh…assuming I’ll be…eeee able to h-handle�
��oh God, more…submitting.”
Even as she protested, her short nails flexed into the padded desk calendar on the smooth mahogany surface, and her ass lifted to help press the last bit of silver tube inside.
“You’re doing so well now,” he taunted. He waited, anticipating her response, and then eased the motor on.
And wasn’t disappointed.
A delicate shudder racked her frame. The already-stiff nipples grew dark as the heated flush moved from her breasts upward. Dropping his gaze to the moisture glittering in the dark curls at his fingertips, he could feel the smile on his lips widen, and the throb of his erection kept time with each flutter of her labia.
Hooking her legs around his hips, Bryce eased forward, the hand between her thighs shifting to free his cock from his pants while he braced his weight on the hand he set on the desk just behind her hip.
Her eyelids slid open as his heated length pulsed against her mound. The soft curls teased the underside as he flexed his hips. Each delicate scratch pulled his balls tighter to his body, forcing him to restrain his need to climax. It taxed his control even more as images of her mound, waxed smooth and glistening with her juices, flashed across his mind.
Keeping his thumb hooked over the top of his shaft, his fingers twisted the base, increasing the hum and vibration of the toy, drawing another moan from Mattie. Her eyes dropped to take in his length and grew wide once she saw it. Leaning forward, he breathed a chuckle into her ear. “Told you three fingers would be a tight fit, darlin’.”
Taking a closer look, Bryce realized it wasn’t fear that widened her eyes, but interest. Settling her weight onto her left hand, Mattie cautiously reached for his member, halting when her fingertips were just brushing the crest. Wide eyes met his before she whispered her request.
“May I?”
Cupping his fingers over hers, he nodded. “Please.”
Her touch was light, whisper soft, drifting over his crest, dipping into the hole to feel the texture of the silky drops of precum bubbling from it. Sliding her fingers over the glans, she investigated the ledge, tracing the ridge of flesh separating the knob from the shaft and stimulating the production of more creamy droplets of arousal.
When she wrapped her fingers around the shaft, he pressed against them, letting her know just what type of pressure needed to be exerted against his flesh. “Stroke it, babe,” he encouraged, his hand hovering over hers to allow the perfect hold. Just the right force and pressure to increase the stimulation.
The taut muscles in her thighs tensed against his hips. She shifted, moaning at the press and vibration of the toy still lodged inside, her hand tightening around his shaft. Her eyes remained on the motions of her hand, watching the slide of her fingers over his flesh, noting the subtle thrust of his hips as he aided her in her caress.
Moving his hand from around hers, he gripped the silver vibrator, eased the motor to a higher level, and pulled it free of her sheath, stopping just shy of her entrance before pushing it back inside. Atop his desk, Mattie shuddered, her back arching and her hand tensing on his cock. He waited, wondering what his woman would do next.
Her chest expanded as she drew a deep breath. Holding it, she closed her eyes, released the air in a slow, soft exhale before opening her eyes and meeting his gaze. The heat simmered in her brown eyes, darkening and enlarging the pupils until only a narrow ring of chocolate remained. “Show me.”
Her whisper slid over his skin. The tone challenged his Dominant nature and the need to test her response rose up. “Show you what, Lawrence?” he queried, wanting her to be clear in her demands.
“How you want to fuck me,” she retorted, her hand flexing around his length, her thumb skimming the leaking tip.
With her gaze locked on his, she released his cock and lifted her dampened thumb to her lips. The slow swipe of her pink tongue over the pearly drop of his cum drew more from his body. When she wrapped her lips around her thumb and suckled it, Bryce couldn’t stifle the groan that rose in his chest.
“Take off your blouse.” His order was clipped, emotionless.
Shrugging off the already-open garment, Mattie shed her top, then the lacy bra that matched her panties. Bracing her hands on the desk behind her, she continued to wait for his next command.
“Lie back, Lawrence.”
She did so by lowering herself to her elbows before settling her back against the padded desk cover. Arousal battled defiance in her eyes, but her need won out. It was only a matter of time, though, Bryce knew, before her will would override her need, and he’d have to punish her again. He was looking forward to that. Now, though, she needed to understand that his possession wouldn’t be an easy one.
Despite his own need to touch her, he tucked his erection back into his trousers and secured it behind the zipped placket once again. His shirt and tie had been shed earlier when he’d drawn her into his office after the last of the staff had left for the day. “You want me to show you how I intend to claim you?”
“Fuck me,” she corrected.
His hackles rose at the distinction she was making, but he controlled the need to shake her. To make her admit that his claiming of her was what she desired most. Hell, the way her eyes followed him when she thought he wasn’t paying attention more than warned him of her interest. Why she was trying to deny it now, he wasn’t sure, but he’d find out soon. “There’s a difference, Lawrence, between claiming and fucking.”
Before she could voice the response he could see in her eyes or hovering on her lips, he tugged her hips to the edge of his desk and wrenched the vibrator to the very entrance of her channel. Holding her gaze, he twisted the toy to its highest setting and shoved it deep inside her. Twice more he pulled it free and forced it back. One of his hands rose to grip the hair at the back of her head when she attempted to turn away from him.
Keeping her attention on him, he explained, “Fucking takes care of only one person’s needs, baby. It’s quick, hard, and only one gets to come.” Pulling the vibrator free, he switched it off and set it on his discarded shirt. “Claiming,” he assured her, leaning forward to slide his lips over hers, “satisfies both parties involved.”
Releasing her hair, he smoothed his hands over her full breasts, tugging at the peaked nipples before coasting his fingertips over her belly. His lips followed, suckling the hard tips while his fingers tangled in the moist curls between her thighs. “We’re going to have to see about trimming these,” he murmured against her mound as he lowered himself onto his knees beside the desk. Parting her tender flesh, his tongue took one slow swipe through the drenched folds, lapping up the cream filling her pussy and glistening on her thighs.
“Trimming what?” Mattie gasped, her hips arching into his touch, fingers clutching at his shoulders.
“These.” Bryce tugged again on the short, dark curls covering her pussy. His grin widened at the gasp and increased flow of her juices at the slight pain his teasing produced. “Not that I don’t like your curls,” he assured her. “I just like the sight of your skin more.”
* * *
“There’s something going on, but I haven’t quite figured out what it is yet.” Victor leaned back in his desk chair and waited for his caller’s response.
“Well, you need to figure it out quickly.” The crisp tone didn’t mask the Southern drawl or the anger filling it.
Rising, he tucked his cell phone beneath his chin and set the last of the papers into his briefcase. “As soon as I have more information, I’ll get word to you. For right now, you should be glad that the changes in the contract have been made and no one has caught on to them yet.” Snapping the case closed, he gathered his coat and headed for the door.
“You have just under a month to figure out how Halsey is going to try to get past the board’s demand for his resignation,” the woman on the phone snapped. “The damned contract doesn’t interest me at all.”
“It should.” Victor rolled his eyes as he snapped off the light and headed down the hal
l toward the elevator. “With the changes I put in after the negotiations were concluded yesterday and everyone signed, you’ll be making a tidy little profit off the losses Halsey’s going to have.”
“I don’t need more money; I want Halsey’s shut down. Gone.”
“That’s what you’ll get,” he assured her.
“Considering that’s what I hired you for, I’d better get it.”
Victor didn’t curse the dial tone that buzzed in his ear. Sliding his cell phone into his pocket, he rode the elevator to the underground garage. There was something going on. He could feel the undercurrents in the office as Jacob Halsey’s retirement drew closer. Toss in some of the whispers coming down from the owner’s offices, and Victor was pretty sure Halsey was making plans regarding the warning his father had given him less than a week ago. Members of the board were whispering, and Jacob was sporting a smug expression that didn’t bode well for the Makepeaces’ plans.
Getting into the pants of Halsey’s administrative assistant should make sniffing out the secrets a little easier. Her protests and hard-to-get attitude would only last so long, and then he’d have her eating out of his hand. His grin faded a bit as he slid behind the wheel of his Jag. The warning he’d gotten the day before was unexpected. He knew Halsey took care of his employees, but Victor never thought the man would be interested in his secretary’s personal life. Maybe there was more to Mattilda than met the eye. A little sifting through files should help solve the riddle.
* * *
The last of her climax shuddered through Mattie, leaving her limp, draped across Bryce’s desk, and cognizant of the fact that she’d intentionally let herself come to see what Bryce would do. The spanking the previous day had left a tingle in her pussy for hours after she’d gone home. Now, she wanted to see what other punishments he had in store for her.
