by Leigh, Mara
On the other hand, the device over her clit—each time it went off, she had to fight to hide her body’s reactions. Twice her voice caught, but she took sips of water to disguise the cause for the rare breaks in her polished oration.
When the first of her prepared videos began, the spotlights on her dimmed, and she could see some of the faces in the crowd—all these people in their staid suits, their earnest expressions, their smug assumptions that she was cold and celibate, the ultimate Ice Queen.
If only they knew.
Both vibrators went on high at once, and she grabbed the sides of the podium and looked down to hide her reaction. Every nerve and muscle tightened, every ounce of blood flowed to her sex. She turned away from the podium, facing the video screen as her orgasm took over. Pleasure rippled through her, emanating from her clit and spreading through her chest to her throat, to her fingers and toes.
“How’s that?’ the voice said, then chuckled. “That’s nothing compared to what I’m going to do to you after you get off the stage. I’m going to suck on your clit like a vacuum. I’m going to drive my cock into you so hard you won’t be able to walk.” His words only added to the intensity, and her knees weakened. It was hard to stay on her feet. If this happened while she was speaking, everyone would know.
The video ended and the audience applauded. She drew a cleansing breath to put the shattered pieces of herself back together, and then turned back to the podium, smiling, hiding the truth from them all. Two more times during the speech, the man brought her to orgasm, but only once did her composure break, and she feigned a coughing attack to cover. By the time the audience rose for a standing ovation, she needed to sit.
Her knees wobbled as she walked off the stage, and she nearly grasped the black curtains for support.
“Are you okay?” Evan asked, a worried expression on his handsome face.
“I’m absolutely fine.” She straightened her posture and fought the trembling inside her. “When’s my next meeting?” In spite of the man’s threats, she suspected that she didn’t have any fucking time built into her schedule at the moment.
Evan consulted his tablet. “You have Marshall Billings in five minutes, then one meeting every fifteen minutes until 5:30. After that, I scheduled a two-hour break before dinner.” Evan’s eyes rose from the tablet to meet hers. “And I arranged a seat at dinner for your date.”
“You did?” She didn’t have a date, but quickly realized that someone from Eleanor’s staff was going to pose as her dinner date. That was unexpected—and kind of cheeky, especially since her fantasy’s parameters had stressed secrecy. Having a man at her side for a business dinner would be a first. People would take notice.
As much as the Fortune headline had stung, she actually didn’t mind her Ice Queen image. Especially today. She loved the idea of no one knowing the truth.
Evan guided her toward the boardroom she’d rented, and on the way, both vibrators turned on, reminding her of their promises yet to be fulfilled.
Chapter Four
* * *
Vicky endured a seemingly endless barrage of meetings, each one blurring into the next. The sporadic zaps to her clit were easier to take while seated, and she felt sure that not one of the powerful men or women with whom she met had any idea of what was going on inside her, or the dirty words that were occasionally spoken in her ear.
She hadn’t spotted her man from last night all day, and wondered about the range for the remote on these devices. Where was he? Or was someone else controlling her delicious torture?
As Evan handed her the one-sheet for her last meeting, his cell phone buzzed. He spoke quietly to someone for a few moments, then pressed the phone against his suit jacket and asked, “Do you need me for this last meeting?”
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“I doubt that it’s anything for you to worry about,” he said. “But I should take care of it.”
“Fine.” She waved him off. “You’ve left me the information about dinner and my itinerary for tomorrow morning, right?”
“Yes,” he answered. “Everything should be on your phone. And if you need anything—”
“Go ahead. Put out the fires and then take the evening off, if you can.”
The young man grinned ear to ear. Really, sometimes he looked about sixteen, even though she knew he had a bright future at her company. “Thanks, boss.”
“Close the door on your way out.”
“Sure thing.”
As soon as the door clicked behind him, she gave herself the rare luxury of letting her feet lift from the floor as she pushed herself back in the padded chair. Her legs were so short, they straightened and the chair tipped back. Her man hadn’t zapped her with either vibrator for over an hour, and while she’d started to miss the stimulation, the day had left her exhausted, spent from the constant adrenaline of being ‘on’ for her speech and the meetings, while being ‘turned on’ at the same time.
She’d barely glanced at the notes Evan had left her for this final meeting. Whoever was coming was late. Grabbing the edge of the table, she swiveled her chair to the side, facing away from the closed door. She shut her eyes, eager for her meetings and the dinner to be over so she could have sex with that man again.
She woke with both vibrators buzzing. Hard. She moaned, and her chair tipped back even further. She grabbed its arms and opened her eyes to see a man looming over her from behind. Not her man from last night—another.
“Are you ready for my cock?” he asked. The voice. It was the man who’d been inside her head all day. The vibrators subsided, then buzzed again.
“Who are you?” she asked, still dozy.
“I’m Luke. Eleanor sent me.”
“Oh.” His hair was blond and slicked back to tame natural waves. Without the product, his hair would not at all match the formal cut of his suit. He was more cowboy than businessman and, as attractive as he was, she hoped this wasn’t the man who planned to join her for dinner. He’d out her secret for sure.
“I’ve heard you like surprises,” he said, and the vibrator buzzed inside her again. “But remember, if you want me to stop, use your safe word.”
She nodded. Safe word. She’d almost forgotten that she had one. The man last night hadn’t mentioned it. Not that she’d ever felt the desire to use it.
Luke pulled a long piece of black satin from his jacket pocket. “Give me your hands.”
She opened her mouth to object, then remembered what she’d asked for, what she wanted. Whatever this man had planned, it might be interesting, exciting, and if anything didn’t feel right, her safe word would stop it.
“Is the door locked?” she asked.
“No,” he answered huskily. “Does that excite you?”
He zapped her clit. “Yes.” Her answer came out on an exhale. She’d meant to tell him to lock the door, but he was right. The idea of someone walking in heightened her building arousal.
All day she’d been primed and ready, and suddenly, with this blond Adonis behind her, she felt ready to explode. She squirmed on the chair, enjoying the pressure from the vibrator. Even with it turned off, if she twisted the right way she could rub it against her clit.
“Your hands.” His tone was a command, and she lifted her arms above her head.
He bound her wrists, then pulled them so far above her head that she feared the chair would topple over backwards, but it didn’t. He must have secured the satin bindings to the table, or to something on the floor, because even after he let go, the chair stayed tipped back—her too—with her arms stretched up and behind her.
He took out another strip of satin and wrapped it over her eyes, blindfolding her, then he pulled the tiny listening device out of her ear.
“Are you wet for me?”
“Are you kidding?”
“Answer me.”
Both vibrators went on again and she arched, her shoulders pressing back into the chair as her hips rose from the surface. “Yesss.”
“I’m going to cover your ears.” He placed earphones on her head—the big, noise-canceling kind—and suddenly she couldn’t hear anything except her own heartbeat, her own breathing.
His hands landed hot on her thighs and pulled up on her skirt, and she sensed the warmth of his body stretching over hers as the skirt fabric rose to bunch around her waist. His finger slipped beneath the vibrator and swirled, then dipped down to sweep through her folds, stroking as she raised her hips off the chair to meet his caress.
He snapped the elastic between her legs a few times, and she moaned at the sting against the flesh of her folds. His erotic massage continued, his fingers stroking, swirling, occasionally plunging, and heat built deep in her sex.
Leaving one hand resting on her skin, he moved around the chair to the front, then pulled off the vibrator-enhanced thong. His lips kissed her thighs, then his tongue licked and swirled. Without the senses of sight or sound, every nerve in her body seemed hypersensitive, alert to every flick of his tongue, every press of his lips, every tiny scrape and nip of his teeth, sensitive even to his breath.
“Eat me out,” she said, her voice sounding strange in her head.
She felt a tug as he pulled the bullet vibrator from inside her. After wearing it for hours, she felt empty, but not for long. His fingers stroked through her folds and dipped inside, caressing and pressing in all the right ways, teasing places where the smooth vibrator hadn’t.
“You did get wet for me.” His voice came deep and strong through the earphones. “You’re so wet and sexy. I can’t wait to drive my hot cock inside you. I’m going to nail you to this chair. I’m going to make your body mine.”
With his voice the only thing she could hear, she was consumed by the experience, almost forgetting she was in a hotel boardroom with the door unlocked.
“I want to open you up,” he said. “I want to look inside your beautiful cunt.”
She hated that word from the lips of most men, but didn’t bristle at it now as he swept her legs up and over the sides of the chair. With her arms bound above her, her legs splayed over the chair’s arms, she was opened wide, exposed in a way she’d never been. But instead of feeling vulnerable or embarrassed, she felt sexy.
Something hard and smooth stroked her thighs and between her folds. She felt its surface heat as he rubbed it against her, teasing her with its hardness and smooth shape.
“I want my cock inside you, but first I’m going to fuck you with this glass dildo. It’s big, but I’m bigger. And I need to make sure you’re ready to take me.” He pressed the phallus, wet with her juices, into her palm, and when she tried to wrap her fingers around its girth they couldn’t quite close. He was bigger?
He unbuttoned her blouse and she felt his mouth, wet and hot, land on her breast. He sucked her nipple through the thin fabric of her bra, then gently bit the hardened bud. She moaned as she felt the nerves there connect to her sex.
The dildo pressed against her opening, stretching her, driving just a few inches in and out against the most sensitive nerves. He continued this slow pace, moving deeper with each stroke as his mouth continued to work on her nipples, sucking and biting and driving her nearly insane with the pleasure.
The dildo pulled out most of the way and he circled gently, teasing her opening, then he plunged it in hard. She gasped at the pressure. So deep. Almost painful.
One of his fingers landed in her open mouth, and she sucked on the digit as he worked the phallus inside her—long strokes then short, fast ones then slow, shallow then deep, changing the angles, keeping her guessing. The phallus heated inside her and she raised her hips to accept the increasingly punishing thrusts.
Her climax built, and the burning sensation seemed extra focused by her sensory deprivation.
“You are a sexy, powerful, beautiful woman,” his voice said in her ear. And then suddenly, the sounds changed. It was like she was being introduced in the ballroom earlier today.
Through the earphones she heard the sounds of the crowd, the voice of the speaker reading her bio, her list of accomplishments and credentials, the extent of her philanthropic endeavors, and when the announcer said her name, the crowd roared with applause.
His thumb pressed against her clit, and she came. Hard. Harder than she ever remembered coming before. As the crowd cheered in her ears, the sensations rippled out and in, spreading and focusing until she almost wanted them to stop.
But they didn’t stop, and through it all he continued to work the dildo as her internal muscles pulled and pushed back against the thick glass. His impaling thrusts didn’t yield even as she crested again, her body convulsing and writhing on the leather chair.
Too much. It was too much. She bit down on his finger and heard him growl. The dildo slipped out from inside her.
Her body relaxed, and she melted into the chair, totally spent. She was still awkwardly splayed, but she was so physically exhausted she couldn’t move, couldn’t pull her legs back over the chair’s arms to reduce her exposure.
Blindfolded, she still couldn’t see him, couldn’t hear him, as his hands massaged her legs, gently setting them back on the seat of the chair. He released the bindings from her wrists and massaged her hands and arms, drawing the blood back to her tingling extremities.
He removed the blindfold, then the earphones. Was this portion over? That was okay, she still couldn’t move.
Someone knocked on the door.
“Just a moment,” the man said.
She bolted upright in the chair, then madly reached for the buttons on her blouse.
“Let me.” Luke knelt in front of the chair, and she marveled at the width of his shoulders, his arms straining the confines of his white dress shirt. He’d removed his suit jacket, but the rest of his formal business wear seemed out of place after what he’d just done to her—so dirty, so hot—and his fingers, though large, skillfully buttoned her blouse. He offered his hand to help her stand, then went down on one knee to help straighten her skirt.
The bulge in his pants was obvious, and she couldn’t help but stare.
“Didn’t you say something about nailing me with that?” She nodded toward his pants.
He gave her a heated look as he drew her hand to press against him. “What makes you think I still won’t?”
“Now?” She glanced back toward the door.
“No.” Helping her on with her jacket, he rubbed his erection against her. “Not now. When you least expect it.”
With that, he tossed his suit jacket over his shoulder, picked up a briefcase that must contain everything he’d used, including the vibrators she’d worn all day, and after unlocking the door—liar—he strode from the room, leaving a puzzled-looking Evan standing in his wake.
Chapter Five
* * *
After taking a soothing shower and changing into a red cocktail dress and silver pumps, Vicky glanced over Evan’s notes that briefed her on her dinner companions. Her body still hummed. She felt sexier than she remembered feeling in a very long time. If the fantasy were over, she’d be satisfied, but clearly it wasn’t over. Eleanor was sending someone to join her at dinner.
According to Evan’s notes, including a bio Eleanor had somehow gotten to her assistant, her dinner date was using the name Connor Howard. The fake bio stated that her date would be playing the part of a tech entrepreneur, the owner of a rising startup that was gaining notoriety for its innovative user interfaces, which rethought human-computer interactions. It was a good fake bio. It even claimed he was speaking on a panel during the conference and served on the board of a not-for-profit that provided tech solutions for people with physical disabilities. Eleanor was good. The bio was for a man she might actually want to meet.
Before leaving, she checked her makeup in the foyer mirror, hoping the blond from this afternoon wasn’t the one who’d be playing Connor Howard. Handsome as he was, she didn’t think he could pull off tech entrepreneur.
Already to
uching the door’s handle, she was startled by a knock.
“What is it, Evan?” she asked as she opened the door.
But it wasn’t Evan. It was the man who’d fucked her in the utility closet last night. And he was holding a small bouquet of red roses.
“Who’s Evan?” he asked. “Should I be jealous?”
“Are those for me?”
“Of course.” He held out the flowers.
“Thank you . . .”
“Connor,” he said. “Connor Howard. I don’t believe we exchanged names last night.”
“No”—she brought the roses up to her nose—“we didn’t.”
He looked past her to the monstrous flower arrangement on the foyer table. “And I see you already have flowers. From Evan?”
“Evan’s my assistant. Those are from the hotel.”
“Good.” His smile was wicked, and the way he looked at her shot desire straight to her sex. After the day she’d had, not to mention the fucking last night, she found it hard to believe she had any sexual energy left, but the way this man’s gaze bored into her like she was naked, like he could see inside her, made her instantly wet.
“I’ll put these in some water,” she said. “I’ll just be a moment.”
Instead of waiting for her in the foyer like she expected, he followed her into the suite’s kitchen. She stretched up to get a vase from one of the cupboards, and he brushed up against her, reaching to help. After he set the vase down, he cupped her breasts from behind, pressing her against the counter, his package against her ass.
“I want you, again,” he whispered, “so badly.”
“We’re due at dinner.”
“I know,” he nearly growled in her ear. “You wouldn’t believe what I had to do to get on the guest list. The lies I had to tell.”
