Chapter 17 #2
Then he plunges the thing back inside of me again and the feeling is back, more intense and desperate than ever before.
Sweat trickles down my back, and my palms slip on the chair arm as I try to grip it.
I’m a mess, my pussy pulsing with the telltale sign that I’m about to go over.
I sink my teeth into my bottom lip, biting hard enough to draw blood. Anything to stop the inevitable.
“That’s it, Princess, just like that.” He eases the toy out of me and then thrusts it deep inside me again.
My cry echoes through the room, but I don’t cum. I’m trembling so hard he must see my desperation. I start to hate him, start to despise every damn vibration, and I know for sure this asshole must be Jagger, torturing me instead of letting me find my release.
“Now,” he commands when I least expect it.
I scream out as my body combusts, shaking and panting. My pussy convulses, and a rush of fluid like I have never felt before drenches my thighs and probably the seat under me.
“Oh, fuck yes, Princess. So juicy for me, aren’t you?
” He pulls the toy out, and I feel the heat of him right in front of me.
My hips buck off the chair to meet his mouth.
I feel warmth surrounding me as he eagerly laps me up, nipping and biting at my thighs before he sucks on my clit.
I’m still cumming, I’m sure of it, and he’s down there eating me like he’s starving.
I think I must black out from the pure pleasure, because the next thing I know, I’m not tied up anymore and I’m being carried. He deposits me on the plush sheets. “Don’t touch me,” he warns, his voice deadly serious. “If you do, I will have to tie you up again.”
I nod, not able to respond with words in my current state.
“On your stomach, hands above your head,” he tells me.
I roll onto my stomach, panting with each harsh breath that rasps in my throat. What I must look like to him. A complete mess, I’m sure.
His hands run over my bare ass, stroking me, and then he spreads my ass cheeks apart, running his finger over my swollen pussy. He’s still standing and has me right at the edge of the bed. “Stay just like this. Do you remember your safe word?” He shoves my head down.
“Flower,” I gasp out, my voice all muffled from the position he has me in, my head tucking into a pillow.
“Use it if you need to. I’m going to fuck you now.
” I hear the tearing of a foil packet, and relief washes over me that I didn’t have to be the one to bring it up.
Condoms always have to be worn in these rooms. It’s not negotiable, but Paige said some men still try it.
One of his hands settles between my shoulder blades, and then I feel him push inside me.
I groan into the sheets, feeling so damn full.
His huge cock, pushing at my inner walls in a way I have never experienced.
Controlling the pace, he moves back and forth, screwing me savagely, controlling my body with the way he’s holding me, the way he’s thrusting into me.
I can’t move. All I can do is moan into the pillow and take it.
As the sound of our bodies slapping together fills the room, he gathers up my hair so tight it brings tears to my eyes. But there is something so erotic about the way he is controlling me that makes me want more. I like it rough like this with him. It makes my body feel alive.
His other hand comes to my breasts, plucking at my nipples. “You can cum,” he grunts out, and that’s it for me.
I scream into the pillow as my body tightens around his cock.
This time he’s right there with me and groans as he fills me with his release.
When he loosens his tight grip on me, I take a second to catch my breath before I collapse onto the bed.
“Fuck,” he mutters.
And an instant sick feeling washes over me. I sit up in a rush. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” He pulls away, and I hear him move into the bathroom, discarding the condom in the trash.
My racing heart doesn’t believe him. What was the fuck for? I would like to believe because he just had the best screw of his life, but somehow, I don’t think it was that. He sounded stressed.
Just like last night, the bath water turns on.
Shit, is he about to take off again because of some other message he received?
Or maybe this is his thing: screw and run.
He comes back into the room and collects me, carrying me into the bathroom before he deposits me into the bathwater.
It’s the perfect temperature, and my tense muscles relax.
“Move forward,” he mutters, and I can’t help the smile that touches my lips. He’s getting in with me, he doesn’t have to run off like last time.
I move forward for him, and he slides into the massive tub behind me, pulling me back so I’m resting on his bare chest. This is the closest I have been to him.
Sure, he just screwed me, and the first time he let me suck his cock, but he won’t let me touch him, and with my back on his I can feel more of him than I have been able to.
He’s muscular and toned, that’s about all I can tell.
He moves my hair out of the way and over the opposite shoulder to where he is. Then he takes a washcloth and glides it over my arms.
“Can I take off the blindfold? I want to see you,” I ask, my voice shaky. But I had to ask. I’m desperate to know.
I feel every muscle in his body stiffen under mine. “No, don’t ask again.” He keeps moving the washcloth down my body, over my stomach and between my legs. Cleaning me gently, tenderly even.
I sigh heavily, leaning back into him as he washes me. I know it’s Jagger; it has to be. Especially with that tone he just used when he was annoyed with me. But without confirmation, I won’t fully believe it. Why would Jagger be hiring me to screw? It doesn’t make any sense at all.