by Kendall Ryan
“I do miss your cock,” I admit softly.
He makes a small sound of approval, and I’m urged on. This is wicked and naughty and so very wrong, but I don’t care.
I glance out one last time. My clients are admiring the built-in cabinets on the far wall.
“Brielle?” Hale groans, the need evident in his voice.
I want to please him. I want the release that would come with touching myself, but at the last moment, sanity steps in. There’s no way I can do this. But I know refusing him would be a bad idea. I turn on my most sultry voice and whisper, “Oh, that feels good.”
I hope he can’t tell I’m completely faking it. I open the door and peek out at Matt and Sarah, and give them the thumbs-up sign.
“That’s a good girl,” he says softly, clearly pleased with my performance. “I want you to take a picture of your wet pussy with your fingers buried inside, and text it to me.”
“What are the monthly association fees for this building?” Sarah asks, wandering closer.
“What the fuck was that?” Hale asks, obviously pissed off at my little performance.
“Um, I have to go,” I squeak out and hang up the phone.
With my heart slamming erratically against my ribs and my face flushed, I do my best to complete the tour, showing off all the features of the unit, then cover the community features and association costs.
Their interest is obvious, and Sarah squeezes her husband’s hand under the table as if to say, this is the one.
A knock at the door interrupts us and I excuse myself to answer it, wondering if the agency double-booked a showing today.
When I open the door, Hale strides inside as if he owns the place, dressed in a navy suit, crisp shirt, and striped tie.
“Are you almost through?” he asks, gliding past me without so much as a hello or explanation.
“Uh…yes,” I manage, trailing after him as quickly as my high heels will allow.
He stops at the dining table where my clients are seated. “Thank you for coming today. If you could see yourselves out, Brielle will be in touch later this afternoon.”
They share a confused look, but Sarah shrugs. “Okay, we’ll talk later.”
My professionalism returning, I follow them to the door, handing them the packet of information I prepared. “Thank you for coming. I think City View has everything you guys have been looking for. I’ll be in touch.”
As soon as the door closes, I spin on my heel to face Hale, hot anger rising up inside me. “This is my job! You can’t just show up like this.”
He stalks closer, his dark eyes pinned on mine, and doesn’t stop until my back is pressed against the wall. “We had an agreement. I told you that I would push you outside of your comfort zone, test you and challenge you. I didn’t force this arrangement on you. You agreed, heartily. I’m only following through with my end of the deal.”
I’m about to ask him how he knew where I was, and then I remember that I told him when he called. My anger subsides just a fraction. I was pretty much through with my meeting anyway, and based on my clients’ reaction to seeing the drop-dead gorgeous man in front of me, there’s been no real harm done.
“You need to be punished for that little stunt you pulled earlier. Making my dick hard and swollen like that…” He makes a grunting sound of disapproval, and my pulse spikes. I can read the need written all over his features, in his tight posture. The need to punish me is flaring inside him, and that excites the fuck out of me. What’s happening to me?
“I’m sorry, sir.” I blink up at him, my eyes communicating my own need.
“What should we do to settle this?” His firm hands settle on my waist, making my belly twist with nerves.
Boldly, I reach down between us, my hand curling around the weight of his shaft, that even soft, is heavy in my hand. “I could take care of this,” I offer.
His eyes sink closed for a moment, and I feel him begin to harden against my palm. When he opens his eyes again, his perfect control is back. “Would you like that, pet?”
I nod. “Yes.” The idea of sinking to my knees before him and taking his heavy cock in my mouth makes me wet.
He shakes his head, telling me I’ve said the wrong thing, given too much away. “Not this time,” he says, then reaches for my throat.
Lightly circling his fingers around my neck, his lips graze mine. With his hands at my throat, holding me in place, he has my full attention, which I think is the entire point. His thumb strokes along the column of my neck, and he smiles slightly when he feels the insistent thrum of my pulse.
“Being in trouble excites you. Naughty girl,” he remarks.
I make a small whimpering sound as the need to touch him, to kiss him, rises inside me. The masculine scent of his skin, the way he towers over me, even in my high-heeled shoes, the devastating look that says you will belong to my cock. It’s all too much.
“How much time do I have before I have to return you?” he asks.
I can see into the kitchen, to the clock on the wall. “I have forty-five minutes before my next appointment.”
“Perfect.” Placing a kiss at the base of my throat, Hale steps back and begins removing his tie as I watch in hungry anticipation the way he slides the knot free and pulls it from his collar. “Turn around.”
I spin around so I’m facing the wall, and Hale takes each of my wrists, binding them together firmly with his silk tie. He’s silent, and I can’t even begin to guess at his emotions. Once I’m secured, he guides me by my shoulders farther into the condo, my feet carrying me blindly down the hall. He leads me into the master bathroom where I was earlier, and faces us at the mirror with him standing behind me.
His rugged jawline is sporting a five o’clock shadow, and he looks devastatingly handsome. He could easily pass for a movie star on the cover of People Magazine’s “Sexiest Man Alive” issue. His eyes are glued to me, just like mine are to him.
I watch in the mirror as his deft fingers make quick work of unbuttoning my shirt, revealing the white lacy bra underneath.
“Just as I thought.” He traces his thumbs over my already hardened nipples. They’re swollen and ultra-sensitive with the rasp of the lace between us. My breath gets caught in my throat, and I moan softly as the sensations tumble through me.
After flicking open the front clasp of my bra to allow my breasts to tumble free, Hale picks me up and sets me down on the countertop, much like I fantasized about earlier. He brings his mouth to one breast, firmly sucking my nipple into his warm mouth, making me cry out.
I want to touch him, to stroke him, but with my hands tied behind my back, all I can do is sit perched before him, taking every ounce of pleasure he so expertly delivers. He moves from one breast to the other, licking and sucking until I’m soaking wet and about to explode with need.
When he rises to his full height before me, his lips are soft and damp from his onslaught of naughty kisses, and I want nothing more than those lips on mine. But Hale reaches into his jacket pocket and withdraws a small silver bullet-shaped vibrator. With a twist to the end, it hums to life, and butterflies take flight in my stomach.
Hale looks down at the toy buzzing in his hand and then back up at me with a devious glint in his eyes. “Now, what should we do with this?”
I’m practically squirming on the countertop. He can read me like a book. He knows I want to feel the buzz of the toy against me. But trying to maintain my composure, even with my hands tied behind my back and my bare breasts thrust out, I lift my chin. “Do you always carry a vibrator around in your suit jacket?”
“When I’m working with bad little girls who need to be fucked? Yes.”
My eyebrows dart up as my bravado fades away. “It seems you’ve thought of everything.”
“I told you I’m the best.”
His tone is confident, sure, direct. He is at his most beautiful when he’s like this. Tall. Commanding. In charge. I like it way more than I ever dreamed I would.
“Have you ever used a toy like this, Brielle?”
I’ve used a vibrator before; I’m not that innocent. “Yes,” I murmur.
His jaw twitches. “But have you used it here?”
He places the toy against my nipple, which hardens instantly as unexpected pleasure jolts through me. The sensation is like nothing I’ve ever felt. Warm, delicious heat builds as the toy hums against my sensitive skin. He circles one nipple and then the other, watching as my chest heaves. Desire coils tightly inside me, and my body silently screams for a release.
“How does that feel, pet?” he asks, his tone low and sultry, and his eyes glued to my breasts.
“G-good,” I manage.
“Hmm. Just good?”
I meet his intense stare, watching, waiting to see what he’ll do next.
His hand, along with the toy disappears under my skirt, and seconds later I feel the vibration against my panties. He moves the toy back and forth over me, and the warm pulses push my pleasure to its limits. My hips move on their own, writhing, rocking to get closer.
“And how about this?”
“Oh God,” I moan.
He presses the toy right against my clit, and I immediately build toward climax.
“Don’t come. Do you understand me?” Hale says.
I moan, a tiny cry bubbling in my throat. There’s no way I can hold back, but I nod my head.
“Good girl.”
With his free hand, he unlatches his belt, reaches inside his pants, and pulls out his already erect cock. While still stimulating me, he strokes himself up and down his long shaft. My gaze is glued to him. He’s so open, so free with his body, so sexually confident. It’s a huge turn-on.
The buzzing between my thighs pushes me closer and closer toward release, and I bite down on my lower lip, crying out in a mix of pleasure and pain at holding it back.
“Hale,” I pant, desperate for more.
He turns off the toy and helps me down from the counter. I’m reeling from our encounter and struggling to process what comes next. Soon, I’m on the floor between his feet, looking up at him when I realize the front door is still unlocked, and someone could come in at any time. The secret thrill of being discovered only excites me more. My breath comes in ragged pants; I’m so needy and desperate for more.
Hale pulls my blouse open, then slides it along with my bra down my shoulders so my chest is fully exposed. He palms my breasts in his hands, pushing them together to create ample cleavage. The little toy has disappeared back inside his pocket, and I mourn its loss.
He runs his cock along the valley of my breasts, and his chest shudders with a sharp inhale.
“Fuck. No lube. I guess I haven’t thought of everything.” He holds his palm in front of my mouth. “Spit,” he commands.
I do, wetting his palm with a drop of saliva.
He coats his cock in the moisture and then slides it between my breasts. He moves with controlled thrusts, his cock, as hard as stone, plunging into the space between my breasts. It’s highly erotic watching him, and I’m transfixed. All but for the tick in his jaw and the pulse thrumming in his neck, you’d never know he was about to lose control.
“Fucking hell,” he groans and takes his cock in his hand. After a few uneven strokes, his warm come is decorating my breasts, dripping onto my nipples, and covering my chest. He moans my name and my pussy tightens, clenching as a rush of endorphins hit my system.
I’ve never done anything even remotely like this—a midday romp at a model home—where anyone could come waltzing in. But it seems with this man, I’m not myself. I’m no longer boring, hardworking, bookworm Brie. I’m someone sexy, wanton, daring, and spontaneous. I fucking love it.
Hale helps me to my feet and turns on the water, warming it before wiping me clean with handfuls of toilet paper.
He unties my wrists and I stretch them, the loss of blood flow making my hands tingly and cool to the touch. He lifts each to his mouth, pressing soft kisses to my palms and the underside of each wrist, inspecting each hand carefully.
His dark eyes latch onto mine. “Are you okay?”
I nod. “I’m fine. A little sexually frustrated, but I’ll live.” I smile, trying to convey that my wrists really are fine.
“Today was about teaching you a lesson.”
“I know,” I say demurely.
“You did very well.” He kisses my lips once, softly, and I immediately lean into him, wanting more. He chuckles against my mouth. “Next time,” he promises.
Next time. Such beautiful words. I’m already anticipating it way more than I should.
Chapter Fourteen
Hale
My encounter earlier with Brielle is still buzzing in my mind. What the fuck was I thinking? Marking her that way? She isn’t mine. Yet I fucked her tits, let go completely, and emptied myself right over her pounding heart. It was all I could do to clean up and flee that condo before I tied her to the bed and fucked her for hours.
All of this is going to come crashing down around me when we’re through. I know that, and yet I feel powerless to end it.
Later I find myself at the grocery store, wandering the aisles, absentmindedly throwing things into my basket. I make three loops around the store, forgetting the reason I’ve come, when I find myself staring blankly at a display of peaches. I can’t stop myself from thinking about Brielle’s soft, creamy skin, the eager way she blinked up at me, ready to please me, the pleasure I felt at taking her to new heights. Watching her open herself up to me is like witnessing a beautiful awakening. It’s fucking addictive. This isn’t her world, yet she’s so willing to go on this journey with me. For me.
I hated withholding her orgasm earlier, and not just because she’s so beautiful when she comes. I’ve never cared before, never felt the deep anguish that comes after, never felt so incomplete parting ways with a client before.
Orgasm denial is a pretty standard punishment. Yet using it with Brielle felt like part of me had died. That’s some sick shit right there. I’m certain if Reece heard all these inner thoughts, he’d fucking neuter me on the spot. I’m supposed to be the one teaching her, yet I feel as if I’m learning all kinds of new things about myself.
Picking up a ripe, plump peach, I bring it to my nose and inhale. The sweet, succulent fruit is nowhere near as fragrant as Brielle, but I add it to my basket all the same.
I’m grooming her for Kirby. I repeat that mantra in my head as I head to the checkout.
Later, I pay a surprise visit to Nana, who watches me with guarded eyes, proclaiming that there’s something different about me. She knows it, I know it, yet neither of us knows exactly what it is.
“Is there a woman in your life?” she asks as I’m putting on my jacket to leave for home.
I kiss her on the head and hand her a peach. “Good night, Nana.”
Chapter Fifteen
Brielle
Have you ever been near someone where the chemistry was so powerful you had to physically restrain yourself? I could easily get lost in Hale’s gaze, his sultry remarks, and masculine confidence. I could spend hours just staring into the depths of his dark eyes. I could turn over my heart, my body, and let him take the lead. But I know in doing so, I’d lose myself completely.
And after my midday meet-up with Hale, I’m more confused than ever. The things I feel when I’m with him go way beyond what a student-mentor relationship should.
Deciding I need some girl time to clear my head, as well as a large margarita, I dial Julie.
Soon we’re at The Lettuce Leaf, a favorite dinner spot of ours. They make the most insanely awesome organic peach margaritas, and Julie is grilling me about Hale. Of course, I haven’t told her his name; it doesn’t seem right sharing that tidbit of information.
“You’ve got to give me more than that,” she says, rolling her eyes at me.
“We had sex, okay?” I whisper. It felt like a lot more than just sex, but I don’t know how to put into words what I experienced l
ast Saturday night. Or again today while at the model home. I’m learning so many things about myself, about sex. Sex itself is nice, but couple it with a powerful connection, and several intense orgasms, and it becomes life changing.
“And? How was it? Was he worth the money?”
I cringe. She makes it sound like I’ve hired a prostitute, which I basically have, but sheesh, it’s not something I want to be reminded of. He’s a sexual mentor; there’s a difference.
Julie’s expression turns sheepish as I glance around at the people seated near us. “Sorry.”
“It was…he was…” I chew on my lip.
He was amazing, but here’s the thing—of course he was. I hired him as a sexual guide and teacher, and he delivered. It’s as simple as that. He’s paid quite well to do what he does; it wasn’t due to some inexplicable connection we share.
“It was exactly as it should be, I guess. Eye-opening and worth every last penny.”
She smiles, satisfied. “That’s my girl.” She raises her margarita glass, clinking it to mine.
I don’t feel like anyone’s girl. I feel like drowning my sorrows in cheap liquor and decisions I’ll regret in the morning.
“What are we doing after this?” I say around a mouthful of guacamole. “I feel like dancing.”
Julie smiles. “That can be arranged. Let’s go to that new nightclub, Dazzle.”
After a stop at my apartment where we primp, reapply our makeup, and search my closet for the tiniest outfits we can find, we set off for Dazzle.
Three vodka-cranberry cocktails later and I’m on the dance floor, shaking what my mother blessed me with. I feel loose and carefree. Hale who?
Determined to force all thoughts of him and our arrangement from my mind, I bounce to the hip-hop beat, rocking my hips and shaking my ass in time to the music. Julie is chatting with an older guy at the bar, and wanting nothing to do with men tonight, I’ve ventured off alone in search of an ear-splitting beat that will obliterate all rational thought.
