Chapter 29
Ford
“Tell me why you won’t let this—us—happen. You can’t honestly say that submitting to me isn’t as natural for you as this is for me.”
There’s no realistic way for us to be together, not now, but she doesn’t know that. But it’s impossible for me to let this go. It’s what I’ve wanted from her since the moment we met at the bar.
I drop my hand from her cheek, waiting for her eyes to meet mine. As she cranes her neck, gazing up at me, I notice that her pupils are blown, blotting out the alluring hazel shade that usually sparkles there.
Has she noticed how hard I am?
I wanted to see how this dynamic felt, though I almost wish I hadn’t since now that I’ve experienced it, I fear I’ll be an addict for life. This is nothing like what I felt when Sloane knelt before me. Nothing in my entire goddamn life has felt as right as this.
“Talk,” I demand, my lips curling into a smirk as I add, daring her, “I will spank you. Answer me.”
The words seem to fly from my mouth of their own accord, as the more innate, carnal part of my brain takes over. Around Genevieve, the side of myself that this mission unlocked is more awake than ever.
Her eyes flash with lust and trepidation, and I understand her concern. We don’t have a dynamic built on trust. She blew in here accusing me of bugging her phone, for fuck’s sake—which I did.
Despite not having that base layer of trust, she still finds her mouth working. “I had a…bad experience with a man I submitted to fourteen years ago.”
The glassy nature of her gaze shatters, revealing betrayal, hurt, and strength as she continues. “He taught me that I’m the only one I can trust with my body and mind.”
Her vague statement reverberates through my brain, further cementing what I already suspected, until the shock waves are so intense that I’m sucking in a small, startled gasp.
However, she doesn’t pick up on it, her lips pouty and pinched as she peers up at me, the swell of her breasts rising and falling with heavy breaths. She’s gorgeous like this, on her knees and at my mercy.
The government has taken so much from me: my morals, my freedom, my youth, my one love. I refuse to let them steal this from me, too.
She’s awakened something in me: something dark and dead, and I’ll be damned if I let that piece of me slumber again.
“I didn’t bug your phone, Genevieve.” It’s not a lie, but only due to a technicality.
I was hoping that breaking into her house a couple of nights ago would be the end of this op, but when I thumbed through the pages of the journal and found it was coded, it presented an entirely new problem, one with a single solution.
She narrows her gaze, the corner of her lip curling in enmity. If she believes me, she shouldn’t. I’ve been lying for years. It’s what’s made me good at these sorts of ops.
Before she can protest, I order, “Unbuckle my belt.”
Long, dark lashes flutter as her teeth tug on her red-painted bottom lip, and I hold my breath. Do it, Gen.
Just when I think she might tell me to fuck off, her hands slowly lift toward my belt. Her movements are achingly unhurried as she threads the tail through the buckle as if I’m watching this interaction in slow motion.
Once undone, the metal buckle clinks softly, and she reaches for the button on my slacks. My hand darts out, capturing her wrist in a vise. She sucks in a breath, her eyes whipping to mine, and I shake my head slowly, my cock throbbing painfully in my pants.
“I would’ve thought you’d know how to follow directions better. Out of practice, doll?”
She gasps prettily, her full lips parting as lust clouds her eyes that have rounded in fleeting shock. Her voice is meeker than I’m used to hearing when she finds it again. “I’m sorry, Sir.”
Sir. That word falling from her sinful mouth as she submits to me is worth my entire fortune and more.
That single word will play on a continuous loop like my mind’s number one greatest hit.
That single word also probably saved her ass from being turned the same color as her lipstick.
That one word from her mouth holds more power than any government.
Gritting my teeth to stop myself from groaning, I snap, “Remove the belt.”
My heart jackhammers against my ribs as the whoosh of leather gliding through my belt loops fills the air.
She holds it in her hands, her glossy red nails glinting in the overhead lights.
As she peeks up at me through her lashes, I think I might come in my fucking pants at the look of obedience on her face.
“Pass me the belt.” She does as she’s told, her warm fingers brushing against my palm as she places the belt in my open palm. My fingers curl around the cool leather as I instruct her, “Unbutton and unzip my pants, then take me out.”
She doesn’t hesitate, telling me she’s as eager for this as I am. I grasp the belt tightly, my knuckles turning white when the cool air of my office sweeps across the swollen head of my cock. I wouldn’t be surprised to know that one hundred percent of my blood volume is currently below my waist.
Her eyelids droop slightly as her tongue darts out to lick her lips, wetting them in an obscene display of overt desire that makes my dick weep, pre-cum beading at the tip. Her head dips forward a skosh, but she catches herself, her eyes flicking to mine for silent permission.
There’s no way in hell I’m letting this woman go. She’s mine.
I smirk, pleased. “Open your mouth and stick out your tongue. Keep it flat for me.” I’m telling myself that I’m not technically fucking her; but even in my head, my justification sounds worse than a teen boy claiming that it doesn’t really count if it’s just the tip.
Her tongue slides out, doing what I ordered.
I make her sit there and wait, knowing that she’ll be literally drooling for me in a matter of moments.
Her eyes flicker with a wild craving as I lift the belt to my cock.
Wrapping the skinny side of the leather around the base of my member, so that the wide, flat side is flush with my body, I thread the tail through the buckle and pull it tight.
A soft mewl escapes her open mouth, shiny tendrils of drool beginning to fall. I eliminate the distance between us, shoving two fingers into her open mouth. “Suck.”
My chest tightens seeing her like this, on her knees, surrendering to me. It’s better than anything my imagination could conjure up. She’s different like this, compliant and reverent, but only for me. It’s an exhilarating rush, as though I’ve just discovered she’s the eighth wonder of the world.
She gags and coughs around my digits down her throat, sucking and lapping as I pump a few times before removing them and demanding, “Flat tongue.”
Keeping the makeshift cock ring pulled tight, I place the head of my engorged dick on her tongue.
She makes a move to lick at the bead of pre-cum that’s gathered, but I thrust a hand into her hair, gripping it roughly at the scalp.
Her watery eyes immediately find mine as I tell her, “You’re not in charge. I never told you to lick.”
She dips her chin in understanding, the green in her hazel irises somehow more pronounced as she waits for permission to wrap her lips around me. I pull back before gliding over her tongue again. “Do you need some training, slut?”
Eyes widening slightly, she nods again, this time with a slight hitch to the corner of her mouth. A grin tugs at my lips. She liked that.
“Yes, Sir.”
Pulling the belt as tight as I can, I push forward as I hold her head steady with my other hand. “Close your mouth around me. Prove that you’re worth the five thousand dollars this is going to cost.”