by Roxy Sloane
I never come that hard alone, not even close. But with Vaughn’s eyes on me, his dirty words urging me on…
God, it was hot.
I should feel ashamed right now, having done something so brazen and wrong. To touch myself like that, right in front of everyone. And when he called the hostess over...?
I came right in front of her. I didn’t stop for a second. I couldn’t -- I was way past the point of no return.
But I liked it. I liked her eyes on me, Vaughn watching too. I liked the secret I was hiding under the table, how illicit and forbidden it really was.
I look at Vaughn, cool in the driver’s seat. How does he know how to push my buttons? To drive me out of my mind, indulge all my darkest desires?
Vaughn pulls up outside my apartment and parks without a word. He gets out. opens my door and then walks up to my apartment, leaving me to grab my purse and scramble after him.
I catch up on the landing outside my door. Vaughn holds out his hand for my keys, and I give them to him to unlock.
Still, he doesn’t speak.
I feel a tremor of nerves. I wonder if he’s mad at me. I know I teased him, but I was just giving him back what he was dishing out to me. I wonder if this is about what he told me, about his family. There had been something angry in the way he looked at me back at the restaurant, a dark glare in his eyes that scared and thrilled me in equal measure.
Now, I wonder what’s going on.
Vaughn opens the door and walks inside. I follow, my anxiety growing. I thought tonight would bring us closer together, and make this strange relationship more normal. Now, I don’t know what the hell I was thinking.
Vaughn isn’t the kind of man who chats about his favorite movie and childhood pets -- and I’m realizing now, maybe I don’t want him to be. There’s a darkness lurking deep inside him that scares me, every time I see a glimpse, but it’s a turn-on too.
A normal man wouldn’t drive me to do these things. He wouldn’t make me crazy with wanting him -- or send my body flying to such mind-blowing heights.
“Do you want a drink?” I ask, finally breaking the silence. My heart is in my throat. I watch him for some sign of what he’s thinking.
But Vaughn’s face is unreadable as he strips off his jacket and folds it neatly over the arm of a chair.
“I have some wine, I think, and vodka,” I say nervously.
Vaughn turns back to me. He looks so hot and commanding.
“Down.”
He points to the floor in front of him without another word.
I remember how I felt at the restaurant, how much I wanted him. How much I still want him. My body clenches.
He’s already unzipping his pants, yanking them down to pull out his cock. It strains, massive in his hands, and I have to keep from moaning.
He has such power over me. It’s his gift. I don’t have to make a single decision, no thoughts or doubts, just the aching need that possesses my body, and the single, overpowering craving.
To obey.
I fall to my knees in front of him. He plunges his dick into my mouth in a single stroke, hitting so deep at the back of my throat, I almost gag. But he doesn’t stop, not for a second, just grips my hair in his fist and thrusts again, savage and fast, filling me up, setting my body on fire with lust.
This isn’t a blow-job, steady and rhythmic. Vaughn is fucking my mouth. Thrusting into me, hard and deep. Yanking my head closer, pulling at my hair.
And God, I want it all.
I suck him deeper, flicking my tongue against the underside of his shaft as he pulls out and pumps into me again. This time I’m ready to take him all the way, feeling his huge head pushing against the ridges of my throat. I’m dizzy, gorging on him. It’s too much, too deep, overwhelming every sense until there’s nothing but my desperate sucking and his savage grunts -- and the flood of desire pooling between my thighs.
I’m so turned on, I can barely breathe.
Vaughn’s body tremors. He eases his grip on my hair, backing off just a little. But I don’t want it soft; I need every harsh thrust. I’ve gone long enough without his hands on me. This is what I was imagining in the restaurant, and it’s even better than I could dream.
I reach up, grasping at him. I find his hands, and pull them back down on my head again, forcing him to yank me closer again.
I feel his cock leap in my mouth as he realizes what I’m asking, and then suddenly he’s tearing free, grabbing me and throwing me down on the couch.
I gasp, not able to recover before he bends over, positioning himself so his cock is thrust up against my face, his body is leaning over me. He hikes up my dress, yanking the black lace to the side, and buries his face between my thighs.
His tongue licks up against my clit and I scream, muffled by his cock.
Vaughn devours me, lapping, licking, suckling me between his lips.
Jesus. More.
I take him deep into my mouth, licking the length of his shaft to the head. He thrusts harder, and now I’m delirious with the pleasure. I can’t take it, it’s too much to process, the demands of his cock thrusting down my throat, and his mouth gorging on my pussy.
Pleasure crashes through me. I cling on to his firm ass, bobbing my head into his crotch with a new intensity as my body twists tighter and I hurtle close to the edge.
Vaughn licks down to my aching lips, and plunges his tongue deep inside me.
Fuck.
I buck against him with a cry. He fucks me with his tongue, relentless, fingers biting into my thighs, forcing my body up to meet him as he thrusts inside me.
I start to quake, my orgasm building, but then he moves back to my clit, nipping painfully to stem my explosion. I whimper, arching into his mouth, needing release so bad I think I might die. My whole body is pinned in place, his hips thrusting down against my face to bury his cock in my mouth. I can’t move, I can’t speak, I can barely breathe, but it doesn’t matter, not with my body controlled by such need. All I can do is buck against him.
Please.
As if answering my whimpered prayers, Vaughn slips a finger inside me. He pulses quick and hard as his tongue circles my clit with devastating precision, finger curling up to hit my sweet spot, high inside. Then his hand is gone and his tongue is back, plunging inside, fucking me with relentless pressure and this time, I can’t hold back.
I come with a cry, choking on his cock as my body explodes around his tongue. The spasms ricochet through my body, my most intense orgasm ever, but he’s not done with me yet.
I’m in freefall when I feel it, an intrusion at my asshole. I tense in panic, but I’m too far gone to stop, I can only shudder through another shockwave as Vaughn pushes his finger into me back there, slick with my own juices.
Holy shit.
The feeling is incredible, a deep, glittering pressure. I’m stretched, it’s too tight, too much, but my body is a slave to the sensation. Another orgasm rips through me, more intense than ever, and Vaughn uses the tremor to sink his finger all the way in to the knuckle.
He pulses it inside of me and fuck, the world implodes.
I come screaming. Ecstasy slams through me. Vaughn’s thrusts grow frantic, and then he tears himself from my mouth with a savage cry, exploding in a hot spurt of milky liquid over my face, my dress, my belly. He pumps hard, riding out his climax with a roar of abandon as I lay shuddering beneath him, spent and gasping and totally undone.
His.
13
VAUGHN
I drive home through the dark city, still tense as hell despite the epic load I just shot all over Keely’s luscious body.
Damn, that girl looks good with my cum dripping off her gorgeous tits.
I drive fast, gripping the steering wheel as I speed angrily down the midnight streets. I know why I’m so fucking stressed, and it’s got nothing to do with dinner anymore. This one is all on me.
I failed.
I should have taken her tonight. I should have buried my cock deep inside her, instea
d of my tongue. I should have shoved her down and fucked her into submission the way I’ve been planning all along.
But instead, I held back, forcing my pleasure in her warm mouth instead of her tight cunt. Now I’m driving home with a stiff cock when I could be spreading her wide for another round: pinned up against the wall with my dick buried balls deep hammering her from the inside out.
What the fuck is going on?
I’ve been promising her the fuck of the century since the day we met, and it was right there for the taking. Her pussy was soaked, her eyes begged me to take her hard. Just nine inches sliding in the right spot, and this would all be over. Another client happy, another contract done.
I’d never have to see her again.
And that’s the fucking problem.
I slam the steering wheel in frustration, tires screaming on the road as I pull a U-turn and screech to a stop outside one of my regular bars. I need a drink, and a dirty fuck, and this is the place to find both.
Inside, the bar is dark, and crammed wall-to-wall with hot chicks. That’s more like it. I head for the bar, checking out the scene, but not a single head turns in my direction.
What the fuck?
“Dude, what are you doing here?” My assistant, Maggie, is sitting on a bar-stool, wearing a tight skirt and low-cut top.
“Getting laid,” I growl, gesturing to the bartender. I’m a regular, so he reaches straight for the Jack, passing me a generous measure. I slam it down. Hit me again.
“Then you’re in the wrong place.” Maggie smirks. “Tonight’s ladies night.”
“And?” I look around the room, locking on to a hot blonde piece of ass in the corner. I’m not here to make small-talk with Maggie. I want to be alone -- alone in a wet pussy, that is.
Maggie follows my gaze. “Dream on. You don’t stand a chance. Me, on the other hand...”
She waves at the blonde, who waves back. It hits me. Ladies night.
Fuck.
The blonde looks back and forth between us, and gives a flirty smile.
“We could always share,” Maggie suggests. “She looks game. Hell, I’ll even let you have her mouth.”
I’m tempted. The blonde is coming our way now, her tits bouncing. And Maggie may prefer licking pussy, but she doesn’t mind a good hard dick shoved up her cunt while she does it.
Yeah, the two of them could be fun tonight, and fuck knows I need the distraction.
But something stops me. Keely’s face.
“No thanks,” I say with regret. “I’m not feeling it.”
“Your loss.” Maggie shrugs, hopping down from the stool. “Oh, I forgot to tell you, that client’s been calling non-stop, the one about the Keely Fawes case.”
“What?” I tense.
“He’s threatening to demand a refund if you don’t close the deal with evidence by Monday.” Maggie rolls her eyes. “What’s stopping you?”
Fuck if I know.
“Do it,” I decide suddenly. “Give him his money back. I don’t need him riding my ass all the fucking time.”
“All of it?” Maggie looks shocked. “It was a ten thousand dollar retainer. Hell, for that, I’ll seduce her myself.”
“Don’t you dare talk to her,” I growl. Maggie backs off.
“Whoa, easy Tiger. I’m just kidding with you. Although, if she swung my way, it might explain why she’s held out on you for so long.” Maggie must see the fury in my eyes, because she quickly adds. “Fine, I’ll call him tomorrow. Full refund.” She salutes, and then heads out to go score with the blonde.
I down the rest of my drink, on edge. This hasn’t been about the money with Keely for a long time, but somehow, even getting the client off my back doesn’t make me feel any better. Without the contract, I’ve got no pretext to keep pursuing her.
Nothing except the fact I need that pussy more than anything in years.
Fuck.
I have the bartender pour me another, but all the whiskey in the world won’t change a damn thing. It’s not just about the conquest, she’s under my skin now, and I can’t get her out, no matter what I do. Those innocent eyes. That smart mouth. I goddamn like the girl and that’s against every rule in my book.
I swore I would never let myself care about anyone again, and for years, I’ve been a fucking machine. Literally.
No feelings. No commitments. Nothing but hard cock and wet pussy -- that’s the way I like it. My work provides a steady stream of willing bodies -- with a built-in expiration date. I don’t get involved long enough to form an attachment, and I don’t think about them for a second after I walk away. It sounds harsh, but that’s how I’ve chosen to live my life.
Finding your brother balls-deep in your fiancée will do that to a man.
I peel off a couple of twenties and slam them on the bar. I find Maggie nestled against those tits in the corner, but I drag her away. “If I wanted to find some information, where would I look?”
Maggie glares at me. “Google, dumbass.”
“No, I mean stuff not available to the public. Legal shit, court documents.”
“Everything’s online, if you search hard enough.” Maggie shoves me aside. “Now get the fuck out of here, mama has a date with that girl’s clit piercing.”
I let her go, heading back to my car with a new mission. I’ve been ignoring the past long enough. It’s time I made sense of this whole damn clusterfuck.
14
KEELY
I meet Justine for breakfast at a cafe near the office. Even though I’m technically her client now, I can’t bring myself to go in for a real meeting. I know how fast gossip spreads in that place. By now, everyone will know I was fired -- and the terrible accusations against me.
“I met with the executors of Ashcroft’s estate, and went through this thing from top to toe a dozen times.” Justine nods at the thick legal document on the table between us. “You can thank me later, by the way. I had to turn down a date with Ricardo, that architect I met the other week.”
“You’re the best,” I tell her gratefully. The sooner I figure out this inheritance mess, the better. “So what’s the verdict?”
“You, my dear, are freaking loaded.” Justine passes me a portfolio with a grin. “Take a look. Ashcroft left you majority stake in the company, that’s where most of the cash is locked up. You can sell the shares, or use your voting rights, whatever you like.”
I flip through the papers, still not believing this. Ashcroft Industries is a huge corporation, with divisions in shipping, lumber, pharmaceuticals... And I’m the boss now?
“The old man liked to travel, so you’ve got property all over the world,” Justine continues. “Houses in London and Paris, a beach-front mansion in the Caribbean. The main Ashcroft estate is on the East Coast, some fancy big house with stables and a lake. And then there’s a crap ton of other rich people stuff. You know, art, jewelry, a yacht...”
I don’t know. I stare at the pages in a daze. I feel like I’m looking at a glossy fashion magazine showing the glamorous life of some complete stranger.
But it’s mine now.
“What about Brent?” I look up, still not believing this could actually be real. “You heard him. He said he’d get the will thrown out in court.”
“He can’t. This thing is iron-clad.” Justine munches on some bacon. “Ashcroft probably knew his kids would flip their shit, so he covered all his bases. Had three different doctors sign affidavits to his mental state and judgment, so nobody can claim he was off his rocker when he named you heir.”
“But that’s great, right?” I feel a rush of relief.
Justine makes a face. “There’s one thing I don’t like. The morality clause.”
I blink. “The what?”
“Yeah, it’s kind of weird,” she agrees. “Basically, if any of the heirs ‘pursue activities that are against the moral code of the company,’ they’ll be disinherited and left with nothing.” She quotes from the paper.
“I don’t get it.�
�
Justine explains, “Ashcroft didn’t want the company getting involved in any kind of shady business practices or morally bad shit. You know, having their drug companies do creepy human trials, or get child labor orphans in the Third World to make their products. I get it. I mean, he built the business from nothing, and didn’t want to see it used for evil.”
“That’s great.” I smile at the thought of Ashcroft caring enough to make sure his legacy wasn’t corrupted.
“Yes, but the language is way too flexible.” Justine points out. “It could cover stuff you do in your personal life, not just Ashcroft Industries. And who says what’s moral or immoral? Is Brent going to take you to court if you get a speeding ticket, or, like, get arrested for something totally bogus? Not that you need to worry about that,” she adds with a smirk. “You’re as squeaky clean as they come.”
Except I’m not.
I stare at her in horror, realizing for the first time what Brent is playing at filing those complaints about me at work.
“The law firm,” I gasp, my heart racing with dread. “You know they suspended me.”
Justine waves her hand. “That’s bullshit. You don’t need them anyway, not anymore.”
I shake my head. “You don’t understand, they’re investigating me for having inappropriate relationships with the clients. My employment contract, it has a morality code too. That’s what they’d use as ground for dismissal.”
“Oh shit.” Justine’s eyes widen as it clicks into place. “That was the plan all along. If the firm fires you for unethical behavior, that sets a precedent for Aschroft’s kids. They can just point to what happened at work, and the decision is already made.”
“Proof that I’m an immoral slut, even if nothing happened with Ashcroft,” I whisper, finishing for her. I can’t believe that they would be so underhand -- or that they’re probably going to get away with it. “What can I do?”
“I don’t know. At least, not yet,” Justine adds, seeing my face. “We’ll figure something out, don’t worry.”
I pause, wondering what can be done. A man like Brent would stop at nothing, no wonder he looked so smug every time I met him. He was probably planning this the moment he heard about the will.
