by Layla Frost
The papers crinkled and shifted under my torso as I bent over and stretched my arms out.
When I was positioned how he wanted, Damien walked to the front of the desk. His hard-on pressed his track pants out, and when he stopped near my hand, my fingers moved automatically, unfisting so I could touch him.
I hissed out a breath as his hand gripped my hair, tugging me back so I was arched to look at him. “Do that again, and I won’t let you come.”
“Sorry.”
He jerked my hair again.
“Sorry, Professor Caine.”
His hold was almost tender as he lowered my head back down and stroked his knuckles across my cheek. “Don’t move.”
From my angle, I could just barely see his lower abs and pelvis, but it was more than enough—especially when he tugged his cock free. His thumb hooked into his waistband, his forearm muscles tight and defined as he held the pants out of his way. Fisting himself with his other hand, he stroked up the length, the veins in his hand and forearm almost as hot as the thick one that traveled up his shaft.
He tightened his grip.
My pussy clenched, empty and wanting.
He stroked faster.
My desire dripped down my legs.
He stepped back, moving out of view.
And I moved, too, lifting my head, desperate to keep watching. By the time I realized what I’d done, it was too late.
“What’d I say?” Damien asked.
“I’m sorry, Professor Caine,” I rasped through the frustration welling in my chest. Squeezing my eyes shut, I inhaled deeply.
I wanted to watch.
I wanted to come.
I wanted to be his good girl.
Damien moved, but I didn’t dare try to look. It wasn’t until something soft encircled my wrist that I opened my eyes again.
Holy shit, he tied me to his desk.
The next was secured even quicker.
“Go ahead and pull,” he said.
I did, and other than the tiniest creak from the wood, I got nowhere.
“Twist, tug, yank. It won’t do any good other than hurting you.” He combed his fingers through my hair. “And that’s not allowed.”
Snorting softly, I tried to turn my head but realized I didn’t even have enough slack to do that. “Why? Because you’re the only one who can hurt me?”
“No. Because I’m the only one who can take care of you.”
I’d thought he was still to the side of me, but his mouth covered my pussy, his tongue spearing deep. Caressing my thighs, he spread my legs for more access, licking from my clit to my ass and back again.
My orgasm was hovering just around the edges when he pulled away. I shifted to follow, only to find my legs unable to move as something dug into my ankles.
His body curved over mine, his cock nestled between my ass cheeks. “I told you not to move, but you did it anyway.” He tugged my secured arms. “Now you have to listen.”
He actually tied me to his damn desk.
I should tell him to untie me.
Why?
Because if I say to, he will.
But why would I want him to?
Do I want him to?
I wasn’t sure what I wanted beyond an orgasm, so I kept my mouth shut.
Damien walked to the front of the desk, stopping where I could see him. Well, parts of him. His hand was working his cock harder, and though I couldn’t see to know for certain, I could feel his eyes on me.
He may have been in charge, but I felt a heady rush of power knowing that I had him that turned on. That he was stroking himself looking at me.
When he moved out of view again, there was nothing I could do but close my eyes, my imagination filling in the visual for the sounds I heard clearly.
The rub of skin against skin.
His soft grunts and harsh breaths.
My own rapid breathing.
“Should I come all over your pretty face, my depraved angel?” he asked hoarsely.
Yes.
“Whatever you want,” I said instead, earning me a groan.
“Or should I fuck your greedy pussy?”
Yes.
“Whatever you want,” I repeated, my voice airy and panting.
“Or should I stretch your tight ass and fuck that?”
Fuck yes!
Wait, no.
He’ll split me in two.
“Wh—whatever you want,” I whispered.
That time when Damien groaned, the sound went straight to my clit, causing a fresh wave of arousal to drip down my thighs.
“That’s my girl,” he praised, moving again. His hand touched my lower back, and I jolted, the restraints digging in. He chuckled. “Just grabbing something.”
“Mhm,” I squeaked, my muscles so tense, I thought they might crack my bones.
The edge of a drawer scraped against my thigh as it opened and closed, but I could tell Damien was being careful not to scratch me.
More sound, more movement, and more I couldn’t see before something cold dripped down my ass.
Oh my God.
He’s actually going to do it.
Practically hyperventilating, I clenched my cheeks together.
Damien didn’t say anything. He didn’t tell me to relax or go right for it. His fingers stroked lightly along my pussy, gathering the dripping lube as well as my own juices. He rubbed my outer lips. My thighs. My ass cheeks. My back.
He circled my clit but didn’t touch it. The tip of his finger teased my pussy but didn’t slide in.
When he finally trailed back up to my asshole, he pressed, but not enough to breach it.
Just enough to make me wish he would.
Minutes stretched, Damien expertly working my body until I was a boneless, undulating mess. I was about to beg for an end to my suffering, but then his thick finger slid into my pussy, curving to hit that spot he knew drove me wild.
When his other finger pushed against my asshole, I didn’t tense up or fight it. I used the infinitesimal amount of leeway I had to tilt my ass, trying to get more.
Wanting more.
Damien worked each hole, alternating which was filled. After my body adjusted, the burn of pain receding to leave a pleasurable pressure, he switched his rhythm. Both fingers filled me at once.
Stretched me at once.
It was too much.
But not enough.
“Rub my clit,” I gasped.
“Only got two hands, angel,” Damien growled, not missing a beat in his torture.
“Then move one to rub my clit.”
“Which do you want me to take away?”
That’s an impossible choice. Grow a third one.
Remembering I had two very capable, though inaccessible, hands, I said, “Untie me.”
“Not happening.” His movements stopped with his fingers barely in me, and I nearly sobbed. “Who controls this, Eden?”
“You, Professor Caine.”
“Forget that again, and I’ll stop. I’ll shoot my come all over your perfect ass and then we’ll go to bed.”
I pressed my lips together.
He began filling me again, harder than before. “Trust me.”
“I do.”
“Trust me to take care of you,” he rumbled, going faster like it was him nearing the edge.
“I do,” I moaned.
“Not yet, but you will.”
I was breathing too heavy to respond. My legs trembled and would’ve gone out from under me had it not been for the bonds. I was so close, my body pulsed with it.
Before I could explode, Damien’s finger left my ass only to be replaced by two. The burn of them straining to fit inside me returned, but I didn’t care.
All I could focus on was the tight coil of tension that was twisting low in my belly. It hurt so much worse than his thick fingers roughly fucking my tight hole.
“Tip your ass, angel,” Damien ordered. When I did, he moved his thigh between mine, pushing it firmly against
me.
I hissed out a breath as his coarse leg hair made contact with my clit. It took every ounce of willpower I had, but I didn’t move. I didn’t even breath because I didn’t trust myself.
I stayed perfectly still until Damien stopped with his fingers buried deep and asked, “Who controls your orgasms?”
It was as fucked-up, dysfunctional, and wrong as the rest of our relationship, but I told the truth when I said, “You.”
He pressed his thigh harder against me. “Rub yourself on me.”
Rocking my hips in quick jerks, I ground my clit against his thigh. His fingers pumped in me, spreading and stretching until I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Can I…” I tried. “I need…”
“Come, Eden.”
It didn’t matter what he said. There was no stopping it. No holding back. I exploded, moving desperately to fuck myself with his fingers and thigh.
I wasn’t done when his fingers and thigh were suddenly gone, replaced by something much thicker.
And longer.
And crazy intimidating, had I not been riding the high of a universe-bending orgasm.
Cold lube recoated my hole before the head of his cock pressed in, stealing my breath.
“Fuck, so tight,” he gritted out.
“Oh shit,” I wheezed.
“Push back against me,” Damien encouraged, brushing my sweat-slickened hair out of my face. “God, just like that.”
He went slow and gentle, easing in and out.
“Are you all the way in?” I panted.
“Halfway, angel.”
“Why the hell are you so big?”
He chuckled. “Never heard you complain before.”
The vibration from his laughter made my eyes go unfocused. I rolled my hips, wanting more. His groaned curse was enough to make me do it again.
He may not have been giving me all his many inches, but when Damien started to thrust in and out, I thought I could feel him in my throat.
And I liked it more than I’d have ever guessed in my dirtiest fantasies.
Reaching under me to play with my clit, he pushed me closer to the edge, but I didn’t want to be alone going over it. I wanted him to come, too.
“More,” I said before adding, “please.”
“No.”
“But you’re not gonna come.”
“Eden, swear to God, it’s taking all my restraint not to shoot in your tight little ass right now.” His shallow thrusts quickened, more force going into each one, though he was careful not to push in too far. “I’ve come all over your pretty tits, down your throat, and deep in your pussy,” he bit out. “When I fill your ass, every inch of you will be mine. And I’ll never fucking let you go.”
The filthy-sweet words echoed in my head as I came apart, pulsing and clenching in an entirely different way than when he was in my pussy. I could feel his heat pouring into my ass. Filling me. Owning me. Sending me over the edge again as I bucked against him.
“Exquisite,” he growled, gliding in and out a few times before sliding free.
But I didn’t move.
Couldn’t have, and not just because I was still tied to the desk.
Even when he gripped and spread my ass cheeks, I didn’t so much as blink.
“If my balls weren’t completely empty,” he muttered, “I’d jack off watching my come dripping from your ass.”
“You’re insane.”
“Yeah.” His fingertips skimmed through the moisture that coated my thighs, trailing it down to my ankles. He freed one from the bond and massaged it before repeating the process on the other one.
Wait, where’d he get the ties from in the first place?
As soon as the thought took root, jealousy erupted in me so strong, my stomach felt like it was somehow both tied in knots and shredded to pieces.
In tune with me enough to notice the change, Damien’s voice was alert, bordering on alarmed. “Shit, did I hurt you?”
“The ties…” I struggled to phrase my thoughts before going with a non-accusatory, “Why were they here?”
“Angel,” he whispered softly. He moved to the side of the desk and crouched so I could see his face. “Brand new. I put them here when you started coming in while I worked. I figured it was only a matter of time before your attitude got you in trouble.” His smile was loaded with so much affection and warmth, my chest hurt just looking at it. “You lasted longer than I thought.”
“Yay me,” I joked past the lump in my throat.
“Everything is different, Eden. Everything.” There was a weight to his words that filled my heart.
My soul.
The back of my eyes burned, but I gave him a shaky smile and a feeble, “Cool.”
After undoing the wrist restraints, Damien gathered me into his arms and carefully carried me to the bathroom.
I didn’t loosen my hold on him when he got me pain meds.
Or when he filled the tub.
Or when he climbed in with me.
Too tired to even think, I ignored the mocking in my head and let him take care of me.
Just this once.
When we finished, Damien wrapped me in a towel before drying himself quickly. He tossed our towels in the hamper and picked me up again.
Am I too clingy?
No.
Well, I mean, I am literally clinging to him like a spider monkey.
Shut up, logic.
“I can walk,” I said.
“I know.”
“Been doing it for a while. On my own two feet, no less.”
“Eden,” he warned, setting me on his bed.
I rolled onto my side and curled up in my spot, waiting for him to join me. My eyes quickly drifted closed, my thoughts fluttering from one thing to another million, though I couldn’t really grasp any.
Once his body curved against mine, I sank deeper into sleep.
We’ll talk later.
It can wait.
Chapter Twenty-seven
* * *
Consensually Stupid
Eden
Fighting the urge to fidget, babble, or barf, I looked at the woman on the other side of the desk as her fingers flew across the keyboard on her iPad.
That’s a good sign, right? She wouldn’t be taking notes if I sucked.
All I have to do is keep my foot out of my mouth a little longer, and I think I’ve got a good shot at this job.
Damien’s car had barely pulled away on Thanksgiving when I’d grabbed my laptop and loaded my email. I’d reread the job description a dozen times, finding something new to love each time. With my optimism reaching dangerous levels, I’d decided to research everything and anything on Prosecutor Rivera before applying for the job with his gubernatorial campaign.
And again, each news article and bio piece had given me something new to love.
The fact it’d been a holiday hadn’t hit me until after I’d submitted the application. I hadn’t expected to hear from them until the following week, but their offer of a Monday morning interview had come a few hours later.
It might’ve been a bad sign that someone reviewed incoming resumes on Thanksgiving, but I’d decided to be grateful my torturous wait hadn’t dragged for weeks. The long weekend had been difficult enough.
Min set her iPad aside. “This is great, Eden. Solid grades. All the right answers without seeming canned. I’m impressed. Since you’ve applied for this position and you’re under the age of ninety, I’m assuming you have a passable grasp of social media.” She didn’t wait for my response before continuing. “I’ll be honest, I’m a helluva Communications Director. Stick me in a room with members of the media, and I’ll have them eating out of the palm of my hand. It’s not hard—Prosecutor Rivera is the golden boy with good reason. But still. I know I’m the best.” She gave an exaggerated shudder. “But put me in a room with millennials, and I freeze. I’m almost forty. I’m not sure what’s on fleek, whether I wanna be basic or extra, or who I ship.”
/> I’d have laughed at the disgruntled confusion on her face, but for the first time since I’d read about the job, doubt trickled through me.
Before it had time to really crash over me, Min held up her hand. “Don’t worry, that’s not what we want from you. That’s actually exactly the kind of thing we want you to help us avoid. We don’t want to pander to young voters, but we do want to reach them. Hear their concerns and make sure they know we’re listening. Social media has proven to be the most effective way to do that. And I’ll be honest, I have neither the desire nor the time to fall down that rabbit hole.”
“Will I be able to work around my class schedule?”
Min nodded “Wouldn’t have it any other way. In most cases, someone—likely me—will shoot you an email with whatever details you need to post about. If it’s urgent, I’ll suck it up and post it, but otherwise, there will be enough notice for you to schedule them ahead of time. Phrase them how you want as long as it doesn’t read like it was written by a robot or,” she gestured to herself, “a forty-year-old who’s trying to stay… woke. And our technology manager does amazing graphics, so you can work with her to whip up whatever you need.”
The trickle of doubt dried up but was replaced by an even bigger roadblock—my unreliable and basic electronics. “I can do that.”
Even if I have to use my savings to buy a new phone and computer.
“Good.” She folded her hands and leaned forward. “I’m a big believer in being blunt. Sugarcoating is delicious, but it has no place in politics. You’re probably wondering what happens to your internship if Prosecutor Rivera loses the election.”
“No. I did my research before I applied for the position. He’ll win.”
Min laughed, but not in a way that felt like she was laughing at me. Still, she clarified, “I’m not laughing because I think you’re naïve or wide-eyed. I’m laughing because you’re not. You’re confident. Strong, too. The perfect fit. I like you, Eden.” She looked over my head and gestured to someone. “Pass the boss level, and the job is yours.”
Boss level?
The door behind me opened, and Min smiled. “Come meet Eden Wilder.”
Oh shit.
She meant that literally.
Although I was terrified, my manners didn’t slip for even a moment as I stood and accepted his outstretched hand. “Prosecutor Rivera, it’s nice to meet you.”
