Darkly (Follow Me)

by HELEN HARDT

  If she thinks I’m not going to fuck her after this little stunt? She can think again.

  “So I got around your instructions. Just like how last night, you got around our agreement never to kick me out of your place. You said I was welcome to stay, but you made it very clear you were done with me for the evening.”

  At least she’s not arguing. She knows well when to push and when not to push. Smart woman. I can’t stop my lips from trembling a bit. I almost want to chuckle, except this isn’t funny.

  “I never promised to give up my control outside the bedroom, Braden.”

  “That’s true,” I say, “but you’re forgetting one very important detail.”

  She whips her hands to her hips. “What’s that?”

  “Any place can be a bedroom.”

  Chapter Forty-One

  I’m busy thinking about the dozens of ways I can fuck Skye over my desk when another knock sounds on the door.

  “Come in,” I say.

  In walks Claire, her forehead wrinkled. “The Babbler just came out online. I’ve ordered copies but figured you’d want to see this now, so I printed it. Let me know how you want to handle it.” She hands me a paper and then leaves, closing the door.

  I scan the paper. Fuck.

  Braden Black Dating Kansas Native and Budding Influencer

  Boston’s own billionaire Braden Black of Black, Inc. was seen nuzzling a new love interest at the recent MADD charity event. She is Skye Manning, a self-professed farm girl and aspiring photographer who works for mega-influencer Addison Ames. “She’s smitten,” a source close to Manning says. “I’ve never seen her so infatuated.”

  Black, known for his womanizing ways, hasn’t dated anyone seriously since his short relationship with model Aretha Doyle ended last year. “I wish him all the best,” says Doyle. “He and I remain close friends.”

  Black and Manning met at Ames’s office recently and have been inseparable since. They’ve dined together in public several times, and Black will escort her to the Boston Opera Guild Gala this Saturday evening at the Ames Hotel Downtown.

  Aspiring photographer Manning is reportedly thrilled by the attention. Several of Ames’s clients have reached out to her personally, asking for Instagram posts. As she’s familiar with the business, she’s poised to become the next sweetheart of Instagram. “She’s over the moon,” the source says. “Not only is she on the arm of Braden Black, but she’s getting the attention she craves for her work.”

  Black’s office had no comment.

  I have no clue what to say to Skye, so I opt for nothing. I simply hand her the paper.

  She blinks a few times. “What the heck?”

  “Did you think this would stay quiet for long?” I ask.

  “But I didn’t tell her anything.”

  “Do you think that matters?”

  “Why do you keep asking me questions?”

  “Let me put it to you this way. Neither of us said a thing. We didn’t have to. Read the article.”

  She glances down.

  “Nuzzling?” she says.

  “To lean against,” I say.

  She rolls her eyes. “I know what it means, Braden. Jesus. We weren’t nuzzling.”

  “Just read.”

  She gulps. “Braden, I never said any of this.”

  “I know.”

  “And I have no idea who this purported source is.”

  I nod.

  “How can they lie like that?”

  “Easy,” I say. “They found a ‘source’ who’s borderline credible and got them to say what they want. Happens to me all the time.”

  “Not this time. You had no comment. It makes me look like I’m chasing you.”

  I twist my lips to keep from smiling. “And you’re not?”

  “Braden! I’m being serious. I’ve had one call from Susanne Cosmetics, not several calls. This isn’t right. And how do they know we’re going to the opera gala?”

  I chuckle. “Do you really think I announce where I’m going and who I’m going with?”

  “Someone knows. Christopher? Annika?”

  “I trust my staff implicitly.”

  “Then who?”

  “A source, most likely.”

  She looks around nervously, darting her gaze to each corner of the office.

  “You’re getting carried away,” I say.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I know what you’re thinking. The same thing I thought the first time this happened to me. You’re wondering who’s watching you. Who’s listening to you. Who among your circle of friends could have sold you out. The answer? No one.”

  “Then how—”

  “I already told you. They find a source who doesn’t want to be named. Surely you’ve read tabloids before.”

  “Actually, I haven’t,” she says.

  “Do yourself a favor, then. Don’t ever start reading them. It will slowly invade your mind, and it’s not worth it. No one gives the Babbler any credence.”

  “Then why did Claire bring it straight to you?”

  “I have to keep up with what the rags are saying about me. Doesn’t mean I give it any value whatsoever.”

  “Then why—”

  “If anything is said that could affect business, I have to be aware and file the necessary defamation lawsuits.”

  “Well, I want to know who this source is.”

  “Journalists don’t have to reveal their sources.”

  “This isn’t journalism, Braden. It’s gossip. Fabricated gossip.”

  “Potato, po-tah-to, as far as the courts are concerned. Besides, look at the facts. We are dating. We did sit together at the MADD event. We are going to the Opera Guild Gala. And we’ve pretty much been inseparable since we met.”

  “Except they make me sound like a lovesick schoolgirl who’s after Addie’s job. She’s going to have a field day with this.”

  “Maybe she won’t see it,” I say.

  Skye laughs, and I can’t tell whether it’s real or forced. Probably a combination of both.

  “Addie won’t see it? The woman thrives on attention. She googles her name all the time. How will she not see it?”

  I don’t reply.

  “I’m nothing like Addison,” she says indignantly.

  “If you were anything like Addison, do you think I’d have the slightest interest in you?”

  “Honestly? I don’t know, Braden, because you won’t tell me what happened between you two.”

  “Skye, you do try my patience.” I stand, pull her out of the chair, and into my body.

  She parts her lips.

  “Fuck, you’re so sexy.”

  That’s all I say. What I don’t say is that the article in the Babbler doesn’t upset me nearly as much as it should. What I also don’t say is how, twelve hours ago, I vowed to distance myself from this woman because I was afraid I might be falling in love.

  So much for distance.

  I kiss her. Hard.

  Everything else vanishes. The engagements Claire just put on my calendar. The article in the Babbler. Skye’s contract and how she manipulated her way into my office.

  It’s all gone.

  Only our kiss exists.

  Only my lips sliding against hers, my tongue probing between them, the groans coming from her throat, my erection pushing into her belly.

  I break the kiss and inhale deeply. “God, what you do to me.” I whip my tie off my neck and finger the fabric.

  She gasps sharply.

  Good. She knows what I’m thinking.

  “Silk isn’t the best for binding,” I say. “The knots are sometimes too tight, which can be a problem if I need to untie you quickly.”

  She lifts her eyebrows, raising them in challenge.

&nb
sp; Too late for that.

  I’m binding her with this silk tie, and I’m doing it now.

  “However, it’s all I have at the moment.” I unbutton my shirt and remove it. I stand in a white tank. “Take off your clothes, Skye.”

  Chapter Forty-Two

  She eyes the door.

  “No, it’s not locked,” I say.

  She parts her lips, and God, it takes every ounce of my resolve not to rip the offending garments off her. She’s nervous, and for good reason. She’s thinking someone—anyone—could walk in. Though I’m tempted to let her wonder—

  “No one will interrupt us. They know the penalty for entering without knocking.” I finger the soft silk of my tie. “I’ve never bound your wrists before.”

  She shakes her head.

  “Are you ready?”

  She nods.

  “Take off your clothes, Skye,” I say again.

  She trembles as she obeys, and with each item she peels off her body, I get to see more and more of her soft flesh—that soft flesh that drives me wild, makes me want to kiss her and spank her and, God help me, feel things I have no business feeling.

  Finally, she stands, naked, her clothes folded neatly over the back of a chair.

  “Now hold your wrists out,” I say. “Together.”

  She does, and I wrap my tie tightly around them and secure it with a knot.

  She gapes at me. I don’t need to ask if she’s ever been bound by anyone else. I already know the answer. It’s written in her eyes. They’re full of an intoxicating combination of trepidation and desire.

  Her wrists are bound. She can still walk, still touch, but she doesn’t, even though I haven’t given her any orders to the contrary.

  “You look beautiful, Skye.”

  She smiles, her gorgeous lips trembling.

  “Bound for my pleasure,” I say.

  Naked. Skye naked in my office, her wrists secured with my necktie. I’m about to fuck her here, leave her mark in this room.

  “Walk to the window, Skye, and face it. Hands above your head.”

  She obeys, pressing her bare breasts against the glass, her bound wrists resting on the pane above her.

  I unbuckle my belt, unzip my zipper. My cock springs out, hard and ready.

  I stand behind her and push into her. Then I grasp her bound wrists, raise them, and hold them clamped against the window. “Don’t move,” I whisper against her ear.

  In one quick thrust, I’m inside her. I clench my teeth, letting the walls of her pussy suck around me. Fucking paradise.

  She cries out.

  “That’s it, baby,” I say. “Take it. Take all of me.” I pull out and then push back in.

  Her cheek and breasts are crushed against the glass. What a lovely picture she must make, her tits smashed—if only she were visible to outside viewers. The idea makes me hot. I keep my hand clamped onto her bound wrists, rendering her immobile.

  With my other hand, I grip her hip as I fuck her. “Good girl. Don’t move. Let me take what’s mine.”

  It’s a hard and primal fuck. No kisses to her neck, no nibbles on her ear. Just a raw taking. What I need at this moment. She barged into my office with a contract she could have emailed. Interrupted my day. I remember this as I fuck her against my window.

  “That’s it.” I pump faster. “Yeah, baby, just like that.”

  I glide my hand from her hip and touch her clit gently. She gasps.

  Then I pull on it…not so gently.

  She explodes.

  Quick as lightning, I withdraw and spin her to face me. I lift her, her ass pressing against the glass window.

  “Put your arms around my neck,” I command.

  She looks down at the binding, her lips parted and eyebrows raised.

  “Do it!” I grit out.

  She lifts both arms and rings them around my neck. She’s suspended now, flat against the window, her arms bound and around me. I spread her legs as wide as they’ll go, my arms under her thighs like a makeshift swing. I’m holding all her weight, pushing her up and against the glass.

  I charge into her, thrusting and thrusting.

  “Fuck,” I groan. “Feels so good.”

  “God, yes,” she says. “Please.”

  I know what she’s after. She wants me to touch her clit. She wants another orgasm. I’m happy to give it to her, but I’ll do it my own way.

  I lean into her, our chests touching, and rock my cock gently back and forth into her. It’s a deliciously erotic sensation for both of us, and little by little, she’s getting the clitoral stimulation she needs.

  I rock and I rock and I rock, her tight pussy gripping my cock with each push and my pubic bone gently caressing her clit, until—

  “Braden! I’m coming!”

  “That’s it, baby.” I pull back slightly and plunge deep. I withdraw and then thrust.

  A fuck. A good, hard fuck.

  The orgasm rolls through her as her body releases. And I feel each contraction of her walls. Every. Single. One.

  She shouts. She screams. She’s forgotten that Claire and others sit right outside this room.

  Good. Very good. I don’t care, so why should she? She’s giving up control, and it spurs me on.

  I shove my cock into her one last time, pulling another climax from her as I give in to my own.

  Together we soar through the window and over the skyscrapers of Boston. I come hard—as hard as I ever have, maybe harder.

  By fucking Skye Manning in my office against my window, her wrists bound in silk.

  I’m not in the club. I haven’t bound her body, spanked her, flogged her—none of those things I thought were required for me to come so hard.

  All I need is her.

  Skye.

  Giving her control to me.

  I gaze out the window as I relish the high from my orgasm. The colors are so much more vivid. Downtown isn’t gray and brown. It’s silver and gold and bronze, the sun casting luminous rays over the buildings and down onto the cars and passersby below.

  Then I look at beautiful Skye, her eyes closed, a contented smile on those beautiful lips. She’s still euphoric. Still in that dreamy haze.

  When she finally opens her eyes, I withdraw, panting.

  She doesn’t move.

  Good. I told her not to.

  Finally, I maneuver her so I can loosen the knot and remove my tie from her wrists. Silk can chafe, and I don’t want that. “Okay?”

  She nods.

  “Tell me.”

  “Yes. I’m okay.”

  “Good.”

  “Braden?”

  “Hmm?”

  “That was…amazing.”

  I nod. “It was.”

  “I mean, really amazing. Anyone could have seen us.”

  I smile. Sort of. A half smile. A devious smile.

  “What?” she asks.

  “The windows are tinted on the outside, just like my apartment. We can see out, but no one can see in.”

  “Oh.” She frowns slightly.

  Is she disappointed? Did the idea that anyone could look up and see us turn her on?

  Maybe she’ll be ready for the club sooner rather than later.

  “Did you like being bound?” I ask.

  “I’m…not sure.”

  “You’re not sure? You said yourself it was amazing.”

  “I meant the sex.”

  “Your wrists being bound was part of the sex.”

  “It was everything, though. Being in your office. The unlocked door. The window.”

  I gaze intently into her brown eyes still clouded in climactic bliss. “You like to be watched.”

  “No, not really. It was more—”

  “You just admitted it. You never ce
ase to amaze me, Skye.”

  “I guess I never thought about it. It was knowing anyone could walk in. The suspense. It was…”

  “Erotic. Erotic and a little frightening because you were taking a risk. Did you like being tied up?” I ask again.

  Her already flushed cheeks redden further. “Yes. And being tied up with your tie,” she says.

  Good. Very good. Maybe it’s time to entice her with what could come. “Would it surprise you to know I’d like to bind all four of your limbs, have you splayed out, naked, for me to do whatever I want?”

  She quivers, and her nipples react by hardening.

  She doesn’t want to like the idea, but a part of her does. That part of her that wants to lose control.

  “Skye?”

  “No,” she says, trembling.

  “Good,” I say, “because I want to do all that to you and more. Have you ever been fucked anally, Skye?”

  She gulps. “No.”

  “Do you remember the instrument I stroked you with while you were blindfolded?”

  “Yeah. It felt cool against me.”

  “Did you enjoy it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you know what it was?”

  “How could I? I was blindfolded.”

  I resist a smile. “It was an anal plug.”

  “What’s that?”

  “A tool. To prepare you for anal sex.”

  “Braden, I—”

  “Don’t worry. We won’t go there yet. Not until you’re ready.”

  She shudders slightly. Anal sex scares her a bit. Not a bad thing. She’ll be well prepared when we finally go there.

  “Go ahead and get dressed,” I say, “and we’ll go over your contract.”

  Chapter Forty-Three

  The contract is straightforward and fair. “I’d sign,” I tell Skye.

  “You don’t want to check with an attorney?”

  “If it means that much to you, I can run it by someone in legal, but this is small potatoes compared to the stuff I review. Everything is spelled out clearly—your obligations and theirs.”

  She nods. “Okay. I trust your judgment, Braden. Thank you.”

  “I’m happy to help.”

  “Crap,” she says. “I’ve got to get back to the office.”

  “You didn’t eat anything.”