Chapter 15
Lorenzo
P iper enters, humming under her breath. I don’t recognize the tune, but it’s something happy. Someth ing light. Clearly, her mood has changed since her appointments at ADPS yesterday.
As she reaches for the light switch, I speak. “Don’t turn on the light.”
Jumping, she lets out a startled yelp that makes my blood fucking sing. “Who the hell—”
I cut her off. “Miss Harrington,” I growl, turning my face downward so she can’t see my features.
Her body stiffens, beautifully. Her hands freeze in the air. “Oh…” she trails off, almost taking a step toward me, but my low growl stops her. “Oh, my God! You’re the guy from the interview.”
“I am, and you lied to your doctor.” I pause for a beat, but she says nothing. “That was a mistake. I don’t tolerate liars. Now, be a good girl and turn away from me.” My tone is sharp, harsh, even.
“How did you even get in here?” she snaps, her voice rising with a sharp edge. “You… this is my fucking home. You can’t just—”
“Turn. Around,” I repeat, voice low and final.
I don’t explain myself. She doesn’t need to know how deep this goes yet. Let her feel the walls closing in before she sees who built them.
A minute passes, but then she obeys, spinning on her heel with a frustrated huff. Then she shakes her head, mumbling something incoherent. I can’t be sure, but it sounds like she’s telling herself to shut up, and the thought amuses me.
“I don’t like being lied to,” I press on, keeping my tone cold. Then I rise, reaching inside my suit jacket for the blindfold I brought with me. “I’m going to blindfold you again. When I say it’s okay, you may turn around and face me.”
She sighs, but doesn’t argue as I secure the fabric over her eyes and place a kiss on her neck before sitting back down.
“How about you tell me what the hell I lied about?” she hisses.
Taking a step closer to where I’m sitting, she folds her arms over her chest and cocks her hip while lifting her chin.
I don’t speak, just continue to look at her.
The longer the silence stretches on, the more she fidgets. Finally, she sighs and throws her arms up in the air. “Seriously, I have a right to know—”
“Do you now?” I interrupt. “Do you lie so often you can’t keep it straight?”
Silence. Just her breath now, ragged and shallow.
“You need to be punished, Miss Harrington.”
She huffs with indignation. “Punished?” she echoes. “Do you even hear yourself? What are you going to do? Spank me like—”
I’m too distracted by the way her lips wrap around the syllables—pouty, lush, pink—to really pay attention to her words. “What an excellent idea,” I interject, loving the way her mouth falls open at my words. “That’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
Shaking her head, she retreats one step. “It wasn’t a suggestion.”
I laugh. “Maybe not, but it’s what’s going to happen.”
She takes another step back from me. “I want to know what you think I’ve lied about.”
Though her defiance is a fucking turn on, I harden my voice. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way, Miss Harrington.”
She scrunches up her nose, opening and closing her mouth as though she has a million things she wants to say. But she wisely keeps her mouth shut.
“The easy way is you stripping and lying down across my lap of your own volition—”
“And the hard way?” she asks, unable to completely hide her curiosity from her tone.
Chuckling, I reply, “The hard way will be for you to find a way to graduate Georgetown without an internship at my company or anywhere else.”
“Y-your company?” she asks, her voice trembling.
“My company,” I confirm. Huh, I thought she’d have figured that out sooner. Especially with what I put her through at the interview.
Her breath hitches, and I almost feel bad for playing that card when her entire body and face fall with dejection. Almost. But not enough to take it back, or to let her know her future is safe because I’m never fucking letting her go.
With an almost inhuman growl, she moves, tearing her clothes from her body. There’s nothing sensual or artistic about it; it’s pure frustration, anger, and maybe a hint of hatred. It’s fucking delicious.
When she’s naked in front of me, she throws me this fuck-you curtsy, all defiance and sin. My cock swells instantly, thickening with the kind of pressure that’s almost painful. She has no idea what she does to me, standing there stripped and defian t like that.
“What else does my liege command?” she snarks.
Reclining comfortably on the couch, I guide her to me with only my voice. She complies, moving to stand before me. Even though she can’t see me, I tap my lap with a purposeful look.
“Lie down, ass in the air,” I instruct.
She pauses for a brief moment, uncertainty flickering across her features.
Then, with a resigned sigh, my toy slowly closes the last of the distance between us, feeling her way onto my lap, her body draping elegantly over me.
Her back arches, accentuating the curve of her spine, as her hips rise obediently, a testament to her compliance.
The visual steals my breath. My dick throbs against the confines of my suit pants, desperate for friction. Every curve of her body taunts me with promises.
The first slap resonates through the room, a sharp crack slicing through the air.
She gasps, a tremor in her voice as she exclaims, “Fuck!” Her breath is ragged and filled with a mix of surprise and pain.
“You should be counting for me, Miss Harrington,” I command, dragging my hand down the curve of her ass. “Since you’re not sexually active, this doesn’t count, does it? Just my palm marking your ass. No cock. No penetration. Just discipline.”
“Two,” she cries out when my hand lands another firm strike on her skin, the sound echoing once more.
I click my tongue disapprovingly. “The first one didn’t count. Let’s start over,” I instruct, maintaining control with a calm demeanor.
To her credit, she doesn’t argue or plead; she simply nods, accepting the correction. When my hand connects with her ass again, the impact reverberates, and she dutifully counts, her voice an enticing mixture of pain and a trembling I suspect is pleasure.
By the fifth strike, she’s moaning and writhing in my lap, her body undulating with a mix of pleasure and anticipation.
The grind of her hips sends a jolt through me so sharp I have to bite my cheek to keep from groaning. My dick is rock hard beneath her, begging to be inside her. Her skin glistens with a light sheen of sweat, and the room is filled with her soft, breathy gasps and whimpers.
“I’m not sure this constitutes punishment at all,” I rasp, my voice low and gravelly, as she tilts her hips, grinding against my thigh.
When she tries to protest, her words come out as little more than a whisper, barely audible over the sound of her own desire. I move my hand between her thighs, feeling the heat radiating from her skin, and my fingers find her drenched in arousal.
“Mhmm, so incredibly wet… and still not sexually active, right? Or is this you trying?” I taunt, dragging two fingers through her soaked folds. “All this slickness and no one to use it? That’s fucking tragic.”
Her body responds instinctively, a shiver coursing through her as shame makes her breath hitch, and her cheeks take on a delicious red hue th at almost matches the prints of my hand on both her creamy ass cheeks.
I want to bury my face in her pussy and taste the proof of her arousal. I want to ruin her with my mouth until she forgets how to lie to herself.
“N-no,” she argues weakly. “P-please don’t.” Her denial dies when I pinch her clit, and she cries out, rolling her hips as though she wants more.
As I land another blow on her ass, she squirms, trying to get away from me.
“No, you don’t,” I growl with a low, menacing intensity.
She sobs, her voice trembling with a note of desperation. “No. Stop… ahh, I need more. No.” She’s at war with herself while tear after tear cascades down her face. The blindfold doesn’t absorb all of them. I admire the inky trails along her cheeks like a somber work of art.
Reaching out, I grip her jaw with a firm, unyielding grasp, guiding her face closer to mine. I lean in, letting my tongue glide over her skin to taste a single tear, savoring its salty essence.
“Your desperation is delicious,” I whisper, my voice a soft, sinister caress that hangs in the charged space between us.
I want to bottle that scent—the wet, electric musk of shame and arousal. Wear it like a cologne.
“Let’s see if you’re ready to tell the truth,” I rasp. “Are you sexually active now, Toy? Or are you still intending to try with anyone else?”
She stiffens, once again trying to escape me. But I’m holding her too tight for that to happen. She parts her lips to speak, then she shakes her head and presses her lips together.
“Tell me,” I croon, rolling her clit.
“I… I… it was an accident,” she moans. “I was just trying to lighten the fucking mood.”
That’s the answer I expected. And now that I’m seeing her in the flesh, hearing the tremble in her voice, I’m convinced it’s not an act.
“An accident?” I scoff.
She hesitates, licking her lips. “Yes. I mean…” Trailing off, she curses under her breath. “I wasn’t going to sit there and tell Dr. Voss what you’ve done to me, was I? No. So I made a harmless joke,” she snarls.
I run my hand over her ass, pinching the red marks until she gasps and bucks against me. “A harmless joke,” I repeat. “Do you still think it’s harmless?”
“Enough,” she snaps, her voice thick. “I’ve answered your fucking question honestly. It’s not my fault if you don’t believe me. But I’m done playing this game.”
There she is, my perfect toy breaking free, showing her fiery self.
“Are you sexually active?” I ask, my voice husky.
“Yes,” she cries.
“ With who?”
“Y-you.”
I palm her ass, tenderly stroking the skin. “And are you trying with anyone else?”
“No,” she hisses. “I’m not a fucking slut.”
Tilting my head to the side, I push my fingers inside her again. “Aren’t you? You indulged in sexual activity in exchange for your internship. Isn’t that what a slut does? Sexual favors for payment?”
She hisses, a low, vicious sound. “I. Am. Not. A. Slut!”
I tisk. “I think you’re my slut, Piper.” I curl my fingers and pump them in and out until she’s wiggling against them, chasing her pleasure. “Good toys deserve to get what they want, but you’re not being a good toy right now.”
I don’t need to see her eyes to know she’s caught between want and possibly pride. I deliver a swift slap to her ass, sending a jolt of sensation through her body.
“Come on,” I taunt. “If you want to be sexually active, all you have to do is say so.”
She moans, a sound both primal and needy, as she writhes, her hips moving in a slow, deliberate dance against me. Her body undulates with fluid grace, each movement deliberate and sensual.
I pull my fingers out and stop touching her. Several moments pass before she finally gives in. “P-please,” she sobs. “I want… I want to come. I want… I am sexually active, okay? But only with you. I promise.”
Those words are fucking music to my ears.
“Go ahead, Toy. Rub that perfect cunt against my thigh. Show me how desperate you are,” I say, my low, husky words encouraging her.
I tense my thigh, muscles coiling and hardening beneath her, offering a firm surface for her to press against. The friction builds, each motion drawing her closer to the edge.
Her breath hitches, and a shiver of ecstasy courses through her as she reaches her climax. A guttural cry escapes her lips, echoing through the room like a primal symphony.
In that precise moment, I slide my fingers back into her eager core, curling them to caress the hidden pad of her G-spot. Her velvety walls clench around me, slick and inviting.
“Mhmm, your cunt is so hot and tight around me,” I growl, my voice hoarse with lust. “You’re clutching my fingers like you never want to let them go. I can’t wait to feel you stretch around my cock.”
I pump my fingers harder.
“To bury myself in your heat and lose all sense of where I end and you begin.” Her arousal coats my fingers, her desire perfuming the air like a potent aphrodisiac.
“Yes! Yes! Yes... oh my fucking… YES!” she screams, her voice filled with urgency and pleasure.
My fingers move rhythmically, each motion deliberate and precise, drawing out her every response. My hardness is leaking, straining. I want to fuck her raw on this couch until she forgets her own name, but not yet.
As I continue, I whisper a litany of desires, painting vivid images with my words, each one a promise of the pleasures yet to come.
“I’m going to bend you over every surface, fuck you in every hole. Oh, my perfect little toy, you’re going to be such a slut for me, aren’t you?” Her every gasp and shiver tells me all I need to know.
When she’s no longer coming, and her pussy releases my fingers, I don’t hesitate in bringing them to my mouth, licking them clean. Her mouth pops open, and she turns her head.
“What are you doing?” she asks, sounding like she doesn’t believe whatever conclusion she’s come to in her head.
“Licking your taste from my fingers,” I reply, shooting her a wicked grin she can’t see.
“Oh…” That’s all she says.
“Cat got your tongue, miss smart-mouth?” I tease.
Turning on my lap, she smiles sweetly as she brings her index finger to her lips, and the sight makes me growl low in my throat when her tongue darts out, snaking around the tip of her finger.
“You have no idea how smart my mouth is,” she purrs. “What I did at the interview was nothing more than a preview.”
“You’re killing me,” I groan, angling my hips so she can feel just how hard I am.
She shifts, deliberately rubbing herself against my hardness, causing me to growl. And then, she fucking smiles. Like the air between us isn’t charged with arousal. And it nearly undoes me.
Instead of giving in, I slide my hands to her hips and still her movements, holding her in place so I don’t come in my pants from the friction.
“You had your punishment and reward,” I murmur, voice low and wrecked. “And I reminded you what the truth fucking feels like.”
With those words, I lift her off my lap, set her down on the couch, and rise to my feet. I could take her now. Bend her over this couch and fuck her so full of me she tastes it for days. But this was about getting the truth, and I believe she gave me that.
“Now that you’re finally being honest, you’ll start your internship in three days.”