Chapter 19 – Rhiannon #2
I can’t see his face, so I have no way of telling whether he’s looking at my bare ass or the zipper at this point, so I close my eyes and try my best not to think about the way his fingertips are digging into my skin.
“Bend over and brace yourself on the toilet seat,” he says, in a voice far too deep and sexual for what we’re doing.
I do as he instructed, putting down the seat cover and attempting to steady myself. His hands are warm and gentle as he slowly works to back it out of each groove out, careful not to rip the delicate silk.
My breathing becomes slower as I feel his hot breath on my neck while he works and then refocus on his hands that are now brushing against the bare skin that’s been exposed on my hip.
The fabric suddenly loosens, and I know he got the zipper all the way out.
“Got it,” he says softly.
My whole ass is out now, and he’s frozen behind me, still holding the loosened silk thong between his fingers. The thin strip of fabric is stretched from his grip to my body, pulled tight up my crack and pressed right against my clit and the wet ache of my pussy.
I’m so turned on I can’t think straight. If I so much as press my thighs together, even a little, I know I’ll come right here in the middle of his bathroom.
Then I feel it—a faint tremor running through his hand.
It hits me that he’s just as wrecked as I am. Just as undone by the closeness to my body. Just as desperate and barely holding it together, like this stupid scrap of silk is the only thing keeping both of us from snapping and giving in to the chemistry we’ve always had.
I can’t breathe. I can’t think. It wouldn’t take much for him to just slip his fingers between my legs and find my swollen clit, give it the attention that I desperately want and make me come.
I’m not sure how I got myself in this position, Cain stretching my thong against my swollen core while he holds up my skirt, preventing it from falling to the floor, but I feel like I’m going to combust if I don’t get some relief soon.
“Thank you,” I whisper, casting a glance over my shoulder to catch his eye.
He won’t meet my gaze, his eyes are focused on my butt and what’s been exposed, and I wonder what he’s thinking. It looks like he’s considering ripping the silk right off my body like those romance novels do. I wonder if it’d hurt if he does it.
“Mhm, sure,” he responds, still gripping the thong and tugging it tightly again. Another pull against my clit and I can feel my nipples pebble in my white uniform shirt, aching for his touch.
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful. This ass…” His voice drops and a deep groan rolls through his chest.
I’m panting, my head dropped to my chest now, just needing a little more pressure. He tugs on the fabric again, dragging it over my clit deliciously.
His free hand moves to my ass, squeezing the smooth skin there. “The things I want to do to you…” he punctuates it with another teasing tug of the fabric across my clit.
I manage to squeak out a, “Like what?”
His fingers move lower, brushing through my crack and down to my pussy. He pulls the fabric of my underwear to the side before taking one long finger and sliding it against my slit.
It’s not enough. I need him inside me. I need his fingers on my clit. Fuck that feels so good. My knees shake when he does it again.
“You want me to touch you here?” He presses on my clit gently.
“So fucking badly.”
“What do you want, Rhiannon?” he hums and uses that same finger to brush over my opening again. Not going where I want him to stay.
“To come.”
“And why should I help you with that?”
He brushes a finger again and I moan. “Please don’t tease me, Cain. I need this.”
He chuckles. “I don’t get you.”
“I don’t get you either.”
“You’re a red flag.”
That pisses me off. “Well, what do you think you are?”
He chuckles. “I know I’m the worst kind of red flag.”
Then he parts my pussy and slides a finger from back to front, ending with a pinch of my clit.
Heat sparks through my body and I couldn’t stop the sounds that come out of me if I tried. It only takes a single touch from Cain and my whole body is on fire for him.
“Fuck, I love how loud you get,” he says, rewarding me with another pass over my clit, this time gentler. “I like that I don’t have to guess what you need.”
“More,” I moan out as he slides two fingers deep inside my pussy, while a third plays with my clit.
“You could come just like this, couldn’t you? Your body is so fucking responsive. Dry humping fully clothed, fingers alone, it doesn’t matter. I love that I can make you come so easily.”
I want to tell him that’s not normal. That I’ve been a sex therapist for years, worked with hundreds of couples, and am quite experienced myself, and none of this is normal for me. But feeding Cain’s ego when I have no idea what he really wants, is not on the agenda for today.
I rock back into his hand, riding it shamelessly as he finger fucks me harder.
My wetness is loud in the still bathroom and his groans mixed with my moans are enough to have me coming in seconds on his digits.
My pussy squeezes his hand, and I slump forward, all while he continues to praise and work me through it.
When the pulsing of my orgasm finally finishes Cain drags his fingers out of me with a curse.
His palms glide over the silk of my thong, smoothing it in place against my skin with a deliberate slowness before reaching for the zipper of the skirt.
He pulls it up with maddening sensuality, fastening it securely at the top with the clasp all while my whole core continues to clench gently.
What just happened?
“I…” I turn around slowly, completely willing and wanting to drop to my knees right here and suck him off but he holds up a palm, his green eyes darker than I’ve ever seen before.
“I’ll let you finish cleaning the place.”
Oh. I swallow thickly.
“Right, well… I’ll just finish up in here then get out of your hair,” I manage to say, my voice steadier than I feel. Am I that bad? Does he regret what we just did?
His gaze shifts to meet mine again, and the intensity in his expression makes my stomach flip. I can’t tell if he’s mad, annoyed or something else. I turn quickly, heading back toward my cleaning supplies cart, but I can feel him following close behind.
Every step I take seems charged, every movement hyper-aware of whatever just happened between us, and how effortlessly his presence seems to invade my physical and mental space.
We’ve seen each other naked before, I have no idea why this time feels... different. It feels... new. Something changed when he came to Brookhaven to drop off my wallet, and now there’s no going back to the way things were before.
“I came to grab a file from my home office before I have to head back. I’ll be in there for a few minutes if you need me,” he says pointing down the hallway.
I nod. “Okay.”
He heads toward the other end of the penthouse that I already cleaned as I get to work on finishing his bedroom and bathroom. The entire time I question everything that just happened.
Is he mad? Is he happy? Does he want me to come find him? What the hell is he thinking about right now?
Twenty minutes later, I’ve finished and packed up the cleaning cart, prepared to push it to the ground floor so that I can make the long, train ride back to Brookhaven when curiosity gets the best of me.
I make my way cautiously toward his office that’s located at the far end of the penthouse. It’s the only room I’ve never been allowed to clean at his explicit request due to confidential information for clients housed there.
At the time, I hadn’t known who he was or that he was a lawyer but now that I do, I wonder if that’s where his personal belongings are kept. You know, the things that make him, him.
I tell myself that I’m just interested in knowing more about him. I’m not snooping. But each step down the hallway feels like I’m edging closer to a line I shouldn’t cross and a betrayal of his trust.
The walk stretches longer than I remember, my nerves growing louder with each step. When I reach the door to his office, I hesitate, straining to hear if he’s already left for the night or on a meeting that I might interrupt.
Hearing nothing I take another deep breath, my fingers brush the gold-colored doorknob, twisting it cautiously. It’s unlocked. Just a quick peek, enough to satisfy the gnawing question of what he’s hiding behind here.
Maybe it’s sports memorabilia. Maybe it’s a pet. Maybe he’s into collecting Hot Wheel cars.
The door cracks open silently. It’s just a few inches but it’s enough to see that Cain hasn’t left for the night. And when I see him, I freeze.