Chapter twenty-two
Chase, Chase, and Waite Law Offices, Canary Wharf
Connor
She arrives and my heart all but stops. Samantha has never been to our offices, but seeing her step out of the elevator onto our floor makes me so fucking happy.
She’s been on my mind since this morning, since she left my bed to head to work in the early hours.
Every day I spend with her makes me even more certain she’s the girl for me.
Last night, she had reappeared at my apartment two hours after I left her with my brother.
So many questions had been on my tongue, leaving me desperate for answers.
I’d been too nervous to ask any. She walked into my living room as I’d lounged on the sofa pretending to watch television.
The expression on her face was wary; I told myself this was as strange for her as it was for me.
I was the one that instigated the damn situation, after all.
I’d stood, walked over to her, then placed my hands on her elbows as she gazed upwards. Her lips had quirked up a fraction, and she sighed softly. “You hungry?” I asked, and she shook her head.
“No, Russ ordered takeout.” Her casual explanation stung a little, but the natural cadence of her voice relaxed with the detail. I tried to keep my face impassive but wanted to show interest, trying to provide some assurance that I was okay with this.
“Where from?”
She’d cocked her head to one side as her eyes ran over my face, the way she does when she is assessing how someone will react to a situation.
I see similarities between us in that sense.
Samantha, for all she’s strong willed, isn’t impulsive.
She can watch a scenario unfold and react accordingly.
For me, I find an independent self-assured woman incredibly attractive, and my girl is both those things.
“An Italian place. We had pizza.”
“Any dessert?”
Her eyes narrowed, an uneasy look darkening her pretty features.
“Are you asking me what I think you are?”
she said, her tone irritated. She stepped backward out of my embrace, and I reprimanded myself for the indirect question.
Samantha appreciates honesty and privacy.
Whether she slept with my brother is none of my business while we navigate this part of our relationship.
“Yes,” I answered, embarrassed. “Sorry, I won’t ask for information on what you do with him again. It’s not my concern.”
“We didn’t,” she told me, her face softening with my apology. “Russell and I are only getting to know one another, and he has a broken leg.” She flashed me an encouraging smile, but it didn’t last. “But Connor, I’m not sure you’ll be able to handle when things do progress. It worries me.”
“I don’t want to think about it,” I admitted, furious that I allowed myself to feel jealous over a situation I had created. “But I know this is what we need to happen for you to be sure about us.”
“Then don’t think about it,” she said. “Not when I’m here with you. Come, let me show you just how much I want you.” She held out her hand. I took it, and she led me through to my bedroom.
When we arrived in the center, she let go and disappeared into the dressing area.
I stood like a spare part in the middle of my bedroom, unsure what was going on.
A few minutes later, Sam reappeared dressed in nothing but her red thigh-high boots, holding some of my favorite sexual aids in her hand.
Her blonde hair was loose, the waves sitting softly against her shoulders.
Those eyes I love more than anything danced with excitement.
She strolled toward me, placing one foot deliberately in front of the other, her breasts perky but swinging free with each step.
I swallowed the instinct to grab her, throw her on the bed, and ravish her right in the moment.
The items in her hands told me she expected a far more thorough experience.
She offered me the black leather spreader bar and smiled sexily.
I watched as she then lifted the black silk eye mask and tied it expertly across her eyes.
“Do as you wish, sir,” she murmured, offering me her wrists.
“Fuck, you’ll be the death of me.” She giggled, and my already hard cock strained in my boxers.
“Tell me exactly what you’re going to do, sir. I want every last detail.” I smiled to myself as I looked at the most beautiful girl in the world standing in my bedroom, blindfolded in sky-high boots, telling me to do as I wish and talk her through it. “Every last detail,” she repeated.
I reached for her fingers, interlinking her hand with mine.
“The summary of the situation is—”
“I don’t want a summary, sir. I want the full extended version.” I laughed out loud at that, and she grinned. “Fuck me, and tell me exactly how you’re going to do it. I want to know how I make you feel. What you see when you see me.”
“I see perfection,” I whispered fiercely, stepping forward and placing my free hand on her cheek.
“I see pure fucking perfection. Every part of you fits seamlessly with me.”
I’d kissed her then, taking her mouth hard.
When I withdrew, she lifted her chin upward, straining her neck and reaching for my lips, which hovered millimeters above her.
Our breaths mixed as we exhaled, the excitement causing us both to breathe deeper.
“Bed,” I ordered, moving to put my hand on her back.
She submitted to my touch, stepping to the edge of the bed, her knees connecting with the silk. “Climb up and crawl into the center. I want you on your hands and knees.”
“Yes, sir,” she said, a breath catching in her throat.
Her nipples sat hard on plump breasts as they swung with her movement.
I walked to my bedside table and took the final two pieces of equipment I needed from the drawer.
When I looked back to the bed, she had done as I instructed.
Samantha was in the center on all fours, legs spread, naked except for red leather.
“Are you ready?” I asked her, and she tittered in response.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” I took the spreader bar and connected a cuff to each ankle.
The dark leather sat heavy on the soft sheets between her legs.
“I want you wide,” I told her, reaching and adjusting the bar to spread her more.
“Drop to your elbows.” She did as she was told, and the pussy I love to sink inside came into even better view.
“I’m going to bind your wrists behind you back,” I said, and she moaned quietly.
“Give me your hands.” She moved both arms to her back so her shoulders lay against the bed sheet.
Her head was turned to one side, the eye mask still securely in place.
I wrapped the length of silk in my hand around one wrist, then the other, securing her firmly.
“Do you know how good you look like this?”
“What do I look like?” she whispered, breathless. “Tell me.”
“My perfect home,” I told her. Still dressed, I moved to her side and climbed up beside her.
Wrapping her hair around my fingers, I tugged softly.
“These are my reins for you. I love it when you’re bent over like now, and I pull your head back as I go deep. The way your throat extends under my touch.”
Releasing the strands, I dropped my fingers to her lips; I played softly with the plump pink skin.
“This mouth makes me want to kiss you until I can no longer breathe. I love your wit and independence. I love the fact you know who you are and what you want.”
She didn’t reply, just listened intently to each word as my focus moved down her body over her back.
“Your body feels incredible. The way you wrap yourself around me as we sit on the sofa as much as when you tense under my touch. How you mimic my movements naturally when we come together.” My hand arrived at her ass, and I moved to between her legs, crouching behind her.
“But this,” I said, “this part of you shows me exactly how you feel.” With a single finger, I touched her lips, which were already damp. “The way your body prepares itself for me lets me know you want me inside you.”
“Always,” she muttered as I slid my finger home. The slick walls of her pussy sucked hard, and my cock throbbed in my boxers again. I pulsed my finger gently inside, teasing both her and me about what was to come before withdrawing. I moved off the bed.
“What are you doing?” she asked, needy. “I want to imagine it.”
“Undressing. I’m unbuttoning my shirt. First the cuffs, now the front.”
She groaned again. “Now, I’m removing my belt.”
I deliberately clicked the buckle so she could hear the metal undoing, then pulled it roughly from my jeans so the leather scraped against the denim before it clattered onto the floor.
“Tell me when you’re naked,” she said, panting.
“I’m naked,” I confirmed as I removed my final clothes.
“What are you going to do now?” Her voice pleaded for information. She loves when I talk her through sex—it heightens the excitement as we both wait for the next sensation. I lowered myself behind her, lining my lips up at her entrance.
“I’m going to drive you insane before I fuck you hard.”
I took her thighs in my hands, then firmly pulled her back onto my face.
My tongue sought her clit, and I worked the magic button hard and relentlessly.
Flicking the spot, I felt her tense in my arms.
As I played, I was aware of the wetness of her lips increasing, her body readying itself to be taken.
She pushed back, greedy for more. I was happy to oblige.
I moved to her entrance, pushing my tongue deep to taste everything she gave me. My left hand found her clit, and I circled the spot with a soft finger as I drank, lapping up her arousal as if it was the elixir of life.
“You’re going to come for me,” I told her. “You’re going to soak my face.” I pushed a fraction harder on her clit, my tongue focused on her already wet lips. “Drown me in you, I’ll die a happy man.”
“Connor,” she murmured. “It’s too much. I can’t.”
“Let go, Sam. You can and you will. Show me how much you want my cock. Show me what’s waiting for me in that pretty pussy, how wet and ready you are. Let me taste all of you first. Then I’ll fill you up with all of me.”
I increased the speed on her clit, swirling fast as it swelled beneath my fingertip.
“You’re not getting any cock until you’re a good girl and come for me.”
She released then, the sweet liquid running from her onto my tongue. “Good girl,” I whispered between laps, then rose to my knees.
Taking her hips in my hands, I lined my rock-hard dick up and slid in smoothly.
We moaned in unison as we came together, her perfect body opening.
Soft walls encased my cock, though I could feel the remaining vibrations of her orgasm still flowing.
I worked my hips slow to start, thrusting and withdrawing, enjoying the heaven my earlier foreplay created.
I looked down, enjoying the visual perks.
Her wide and restrained, and for now, all mine to do with as I pleased.
“You like this?” I asked as I finished another long, slow thrust.
“I’m going to get faster. I’m going to ride this stunning pussy until you come around my cock, and I want to hear how fucking good it feels. I want you to scream.”
She groaned with the increased rhythm. “Louder,” I ordered, squeezing an asscheek firmly so she wailed.
I took that as my cue to go quicker and harder.
I slammed inside her, my cock desperate to shoot its load and fill her with me, mark her body as mine with my cum.
“Connor,” she screamed as I pounded.
“It’s not Connor,” I told her. “In here, it’s sir.” She vibrated under my touch as I held tight, pushing harder, the sense of orgasm getting closer. Her legs twitched and the bar rattled as it stopped her from gaining any relief from the building sensation.
“Sir,” she spat out. “More, please.” I grabbed a portion of her hair, pulling her head back and extending that sexy-as-hell neck. My hips worked faster, knowing she was mine and below me until I allowed her not to be. Until I released her from her current state.
“I want to fuck you while you orgasm,” I told her.
“Come for me, and I’ll ride you through it. Please me, give me what I want.”
As if on instruction, her pussy gripped my cock, crushing me blissfully.
I kept going, pushing more as she crumbled around me, the noise from her a twisted combination of ecstasy and relief.
Her body soaked my cock and balls as I finally let go deep inside her, shooting every last drop into the woman that would be one hundred percent mine, whether she knew it yet or not.
Last night, I realized no matter what—Samantha is the one thing in my life I wasn’t willing to lose. Her being mine forever isn’t a debatable outcome; whatever happens, I have to win.
Samantha stands in the doorway of my office, leaning against the frame and refocusing my attention from the night before. “Can I help you, miss?” I call across. She shrugs before stepping into the room.
“I’m here to see a man about a promise he made,” she says.
“What promise would that be?”
“A diamond ring, a happily ever after, and the pitter-patter of tiny feet.”
My heart skips as she quotes my emoji message back to me. Deep down, I know Russell will be seething that I sent something so heartfelt, but I wanted to play my hand boldly. No matter what happens, I don’t want her to think long-term wasn’t my plan.
“I’m aware of the potential contract,” I confirm as she walks toward my desk. I push my chair back, and she slides between me and the surface before jumping up to sit before me. “Are you in need of some advice?”
“No,” she says, leaning forward, her eyes holding mine. “All I need is a little time to sort my shit out so I don’t let you down.”