Chapter 18 Nadir #3
I’m lucky if I enter my office these days without thinking about Jess. All I can think about is the way I took her over my desk. And if I’m not thinking about that, I’m remembering our encounter on the plane.
But she’s not just affecting my cock. She’s affecting areas of me I thought were gone.
“Who said you could grind on my lap and pleasure yourself?” I grunt, flipping her onto her back.
That’s more like it.
I drag her toward me, lift her hips and remove her panties. I keep them lifted as I inspect her pussy. Absolutely perfect. I drag my finger through her folds, feeling how wet and soft she is. She’s drenched, dripping down the inner corners of her thighs.
“How long have you been in this state?”
For trying to undermine me, I’m in half a mind to bring her to the edge and leave her hanging. I know how fucking much she loves that.
But tonight I’m more in the mood to hear her call my name. I want her to scream it at the top of her lungs, like my name is the only one that matters.
She’s certainly wet like I’m the only one who matters.
Jess’s eyes flutter closed as I run my finger gently through her petals, opening more of her. Her scent is to die for, but I must stay focused. She’s not getting her pleasure just yet.
I disappear upstairs and return with an old pair of handcuffs I used to use on enemies when I was younger.
Jess peers up at me when she sees me descending the stairs. She pretends to look confused, but she’s only frowning to disguise how excited she is.
She doesn’t need to tell me how excited she is. I run a finger through her pussy and check that way.
She whimpers as I catch her clit ever so slightly, and her entire body folds around that one finger, which is only partly touching the nub.
“Hands up.”
She obeys, no questions asked.
I grab her wrists, pin them together and clasp the metal handcuffs around her. I lower her to the couch and attach the handcuffs to the set of drawers behind it. She’s completely restricted from touching herself.
“What—?”
“Shhhh,” I hush her, placing a finger over my lips.
She goes to speak again, but I raise a sharp eyebrow in warning. Her mouth is the thing I’m drawn to most about her. I will not let her use it, and have her manipulate me. She’s done enough of that already.
I grab her lace panties from my side of the couch and stuff them in her mouth. Her eyes come alive, but she’s not mad about it. That’s obvious from the way she splays open her legs, begging me to touch her again.
“Taste yourself. I know how much you loved it before in the cab.”
She moans.
I open her folds and pet more of her pussy. Jess arches her back, moaning louder when I touch her clit.
She loses it when I insert two fingers inside.
There’s a squelching sound as I pump my fingers into her. She’s already so close. I can feel her walls clenching around me.
Fuck, I could explode in my pants.
I unbuckle my belt and toss the thing out into the room. It clatters onto the marble floor, which grabs Jess’s attention.
She looks up, sees what I’m doing and gasps. The panties fall out of her mouth, so I reach over and stuff them back in.
“I need you to be quiet. This is the only way.”
Actually, it’s not the only way. I like to think I can get creative in the bedroom when it comes to punishing Jess, but slotting my cock into her mouth won’t do any good. I’d be finishing before I got all the way into her throat. Who will be the loser then?
I can’t control myself around this girl and it’s her fucking fault.
I tug down my pants and step off the couch. I will not be putting my cock anywhere near her mouth, given how obsessed I am with it. But I can tease. Run my cock over her swollen lips and watch her salivate.
“Let me—” Her voice is muffled around the panties.
“No.” I’m back between her knees, nudging her legs open.
I enter her heat and immediately lose my shit. It felt good before. But this kind of good ruins lives. Businesses.
I choke out a moan and begin thrusting.
I never go easy when I’m inside of Jess.
I like to fuck her hard, and with no remorse.
She likes it best that way. Her walls are drenched.
She’s hotter than fucking lava. I thrust into her with everything I have, smashing into her hips.
I angle her legs to the side and drive into her at a different angle.
Her moans accelerate. Thankfully, the panties stuffed into her mouth catch most of the noise.
Fuck her for making me feel things I haven’t felt in two decades. I buried my heart when I buried Anastasia the morning after she was killed.
I burned Dimitri and my father, but I couldn’t burn her. I needed her body. I needed to know that some physical form of her still existed. That I could visit her grave and know that she was still here on this earth with me.
I spent most of that morning digging her grave. Every so often, I would pick her up, bring her to my chest and squeeze. If I squeezed hard enough, I thought I could revive her.
I buried her in the cold, hard ground hours later when I realized I couldn’t perform a miracle, and left a part of myself there in the ground with her.
Things got worse before I saw improvements. The ache in my chest spread and infected other areas of my body. My joints. Every muscle. Walking was impossible for a week, but when I boarded my flight to the States, I became a new man. I stopped feeling sick.
I left the grief in my hometown to embark on a new mission. All I allowed myself to feel was anger toward Dimitri and my father. Because unlike grief, anger actually gets you somewhere.
I channeled that anger into the business that Jess is now trying to destroy.
I pound into her as she continues moaning through her panties.
Her arms are still raised above her head, the handcuffs clanging with each of my thrusts.
Her breasts bounce, matching my rhythm. I crash into her harder, watching her breasts spill everywhere.
Her nipples are hard as nails, pink just like her tight little flower.
I channel that rage into my cock, expelling myself deep inside of her as I come undone.
Her hot walls pulsate around me as she reaches her own climax. Her body twitches. She wants to move her hands, alter her body. Pleasure is racing through her—I can tell from the way she squirms, from the sweat dripping down her breasts. Her thighs are covered in milk.
She comes in the handcuffs, and looks at me when we’re finished as if to say fuck, that was amazing.
It was.
But that doesn’t mean I haven’t forgotten about her ulterior motive. She wants me to crumble. But I will never.
After unlocking the handcuffs, I head upstairs and take a shower.
Her scent is on my skin and I need it off.
I lather up a bar of soap and scrub my body vigorously.
After washing off under the shower, I go again, repeating a third time before stepping out of the cubicle, wrapping a fresh towel around my waist.
I can still smell her pheromones. She’s all I can smell.
I see her bouncing nipples again in the back of my head as I retire to bed. I fucked her only ten minutes ago, and now I’m working up another erection.
I’m fucking insatiable when it comes to her.