Chapter 17
CHAPTER 17
ASPEN
I blinked; sure I heard him wrong. “What? Why?” I winced, hearing the questions pop out before I could stop them, and rushed to fix it. “Sir.”
Despite his tensed jaw and glare letting me know that adding sir at the end of my questions didn’t make them allowed, he answered. Not that it lessened the shock. “One, because I said so. And two, because I want to see your tits. Now, open. Your. Blouse.”
Tits was such a juvenile and degrading word for a woman’s breasts, yet my core clenched, the vulgar word sending a pulse of pleasure up my chest. With shaking hands, I started on the first button, biting back a manic giggle. How funny that I would be nervous about taking my top off. As if he hadn’t fucked me with a toy on a stage in front of an audience. As if he hadn’t shoved his hand up my pussy until I came. As if he hadn’t seen my bare ass presented for him to spank me.
After all that, hearing him say he wanted to see my tits shouldn’t shock me at all. Yet, somehow, it did.
Once I finished with the last button, I forced myself to meet his gaze, but attempted a blank stare to keep at least a thin veil between us before resting my hands atop my thighs, waiting on pins and needles for whatever came next.
His heavy-lidded gaze stroked from my knees to between my parted shirt while he stroked his thumb across his bottom lip. My mouth watered, eager to know what he tasted like, wondering how the calloused lip would feel if I dragged it between my teeth.
“Don’t wear your mask when you’re with me. I want to see your every reaction. I need to. And there is no need to hide your nerves. The fact you are uncomfortable and yet still sit here for me is absolutely delicious, and I plan to devour every bite,” he murmured. “Now the bra.”
Nervous excitement rippled under my skin, making me more turned on than I could ever remember being. And he hadn’t even touched me yet. Hell, I didn’t know if he would. At this point, I was starting to believe this man could make me come just by telling me to do so.
Cool air slipped between the cups of my bra once the front-clasp was undone, pulling my nipples into tight points, brushing against the fabric. I bit back a whimper of pleasure, chastising myself for being obstinate and leaving the fabric where it hung on my shoulders, rather than pulling it open like he most likely wanted.
He twisted the chair side-to-side, staying silent with his eyes roaming over me for so long that anticipation bubbled higher and higher until I almost screamed.
“Climb on the desk, princess. Face me.”
My chest compressed, squeezing the air from my lungs. Somehow, I managed to stand on shaky legs and hold my chest upright to avoid flashing him. However, each shift caused the material to stroke my nipples, twisting the tension higher and higher.
He followed my every move until I sat perched atop his desk with my back pulled tight and my thighs clenched together. With a quirked smile, he sat forward and rested his hands on my knees, wedging first his thumbs between them. Then he added another finger until he was able to slowly pry them apart.
My loose skirt fell between my parted thighs, offering a false sense of safety. Even though he touched me, he had never seen me. And at the level he sat at, if he pulled my skirt back, he’d see all of me.
Not that he was looking.
“Lift,” he ordered with his eyes on mine.
His fingers grazed up my outer thighs until they hooked into my panties. Once I raised myself enough, he pulled them down achingly slow before doing as he did the other night and shoved them in his pocket.
“Another for your collection?” I asked breathlessly.
Another quirk of his lips and a deep hum of pleasure.
He opened a drawer between my legs and pulled out a bag of clothespins.
“I didn’t know the supply department offered items for laundry.” I hoped making a statement instead of asking would allow me to bend the rules.
“Hardly,” he responded dryly, letting me know he knew what I was trying to do. “I bought these on the way to work today.”
“Oh.” Just for me. I kind of hated the way that fact set a flutter rioting in my chest. I explained it away as being grateful they weren’t left-over sex accessories from some time he invited Emily up here. The thought trapped all the butterflies and squashed them.
Shit.
My mind screeched to a halt.
Did he have Emily up in his office? Would he continue to have her up here?
I hadn’t asked—hadn’t even thought to.
Shit.
I didn’t want ? —
I couldn’t ? —
Wisps of doubts and objections flew through my head, but the occasional breeze working its way under my bra and between my thighs distracted me too much to latch on to anything.
“Open your blouse.”
His deep command banished the lingering thoughts, and I swallowed. My eyes flicked between the clothespins and his hands casually resting on the desk outside my thighs, trying to anticipate or stall or figure out his plan or all of the above.
But it didn’t matter because all I wanted was to not think and just feel.
My heart thundered, sending pulsing waves rushing between my ears. My lungs struggled to expand enough to take a deep breath. My fingers tingled from the grip around the desk, failing to let go and do as he ordered. His hard gaze pinned me to the spot, leaving no room for me to hold back now. So, one finger at a time, I released my hold and moved to my shirt, where I hesitantly pulled it away from my heaving chest.
If possible, my nipples pulled tighter, sending a wave to between my legs. When I tried to ease the ache and pull my knees closed, his hands latched onto each thigh and held them apart, never taking his eyes from the hardened tips.
His tongue slicked across his lips, and I pinned mine under my teeth to hold back the moan clawing for freedom from my throat, imagining his mouth elsewhere. His eyes roved across my chest like a hungry animal.
I’d never felt sexier or more terrified at once under the intensity of his attention.
“First,” he explained, grabbing a clothespin. “We will begin with clamping your nipples.”
He stood, towering over me, and I fell back. My palms encountered papers, and I shoved them aside until I found the slick wooden surface. Calloused fingertips started at the band of my skirt and skated up my stomach to my sternum before shifting over the swell of my breast to my nipple. While his stroke up my body lulled me into a sense of relaxation, his grip around my bud jolted me into a pained craze.
He gripped the sensitive tip and twisted and turned with continued brushes of his thumb to tease me to the edge.
“Such a perfect nipple,” he crooned, bringing the clip higher. “I can’t wait to see how deep it blushes with the pressure.” I cried out as he placed the clip around my tip and gasped when his thumb did one last sweep. “So sensitive.”
My hips struggled to remain still as he repeated the process with the other nipple. By the time he sat back in his chair, I writhed while moisture built between my thighs.
“Look at me.”
I hadn’t realized I closed my eyes until his command. Slowly, my eyes slid open, and I peered at him from under my lashes.
“How is that?” he asked.
I licked my lips, swallowed, and nodded. “Good.”
Although I guessed from the devilish glint in the dark depths of his gaze that he didn’t need an answer. “What color are you at?”
“Green.”
“Good.”
His hands returned to my knees and roved higher, taking my skirt with them. The higher they went, the lower his eyes dropped like they would meet in the middle to take me all in—at eye level—with nowhere to hide.
My breath hitched, and I clenched my fists. No one had been eye level with my pussy before and the thought of being so exposed with fluids making me embarrassingly wet sent my anxiety soaring.
Which, in the end, only increased my need.
Fuck. I was losing my mind.
Before he reached my core, he stopped mid-thigh and grabbed another clip. Confused, I bounced my attention between his lowering head and his hand holding the innocuous wooden tool. His mouth latched onto my flesh and sucked and laved until I couldn’t stand it. As soon as he popped off, he pinched my skin and attached a clip.
Holy fucking fuck.
A sharp pain shot up the inside of my thigh, pulling a shocked cry from my parted lips. After a few seconds, the pinch simmered to a warm ache.
He continued up my thigh, repeating the process with another clip and another. Once one leg was decorated, he moved to the other. My hips thrust under each new sharp bite to my flesh, only serving to tease me more when my skirt brushed against my wet sex.
By the time he placed ten clips in total, I’d collapsed to my elbows—each gasping breath escaping as a whimper. I wanted to beg him to get rid of my clothes rasping against my sensitive skin and make me fucking come. I needed it.
Still, he dragged his hands higher to my hips, digging his thumbs into the hollows so close to where I needed him to be.
“Please,” I breathed unwillingly. I hated the begging tone but hung on a precipice I hadn’t known existed.
With a smirk, he shoved my skirt aside and held my thighs apart. Cool air caressed every wet inch, from where it dripped down my thighs and between my ass. My brows pinched, and I closed my eyes, too scared to watch his face as he took in my wet core.
“Such a perfect little pussy,” he muttered deeply. His thumbs rested along my lips and stroked up. “So fucking needy and wet.”
“Yes,” I gasped, beyond caring about my desperation—beyond caring about anything.
“Look. At. Me.”
I pried my eyes open and looked down past my flushed nipples and my stomach rising and falling over gasping breaths, to between my clipped thighs where his dark eyes waited.
His curled lip was my only warning before two fingers pressed against my opening and shoved in. My jaw dropped and a sharp moan broke free. They pushed deep and curled, pulling out and thrusting back in. Over and over, he repeated the process, his eyes bouncing between his hand, my nipples, and my wild eyes.
When I was sure it was too much, when whispers of my mind threatened to intervene, he removed a clip from one leg and then another. With his lips and tongue against my flesh, he took away the pain and increased the pleasure all at once. With the last clip, his thumb collided with my clit, and I almost screamed.
Time ceased to exist as pleasure rippled from head to toe just under the surface, threatening to tear me apart. My nails dug into the wood of the desk, searching for anything to hold onto—anything to hold me to reality.
Then he added a third finger, stretching me painfully wide as he stood. He towered over me, never stopping his slow, sensual swirl around my bud. His gaze dominated mine, demanding I not look away. I was so entranced that I missed his other hand moving to the clip on my nipple and releasing it.
Blood rushed back to the tip, and he dropped his mouth, sucking and laving the tender bud. I slapped a hand over my mouth to cover the scream, coming apart with the sharp, painful relief.
But that was only the beginning, because next, he unclipped the other and brushed his thumb across my clit in quick motions that matched his tongue flicking across the newly released nipple.
I lost it.
I tipped my head back, stretching my neck, gasping for air, while searching for anything to hold me to earth—anything to tether me to reality as I exploded and floated away.
His hand never stopped curving inside with the swirl of his thumb. His tongue and lips alternated between my breasts until everything became one. My mind blanked into a blissful numb I never wanted to leave. No present, no future, no past. No control of my own, but a trusting belief that he would bring me back.
I pulsed and pulsed, unsure if I’d ever be the same again.
My jaw ached from hanging open over silent screams.
At least, I thought they were silent.
His hand slid over my mouth, and his lips moved to my ear.
“Shh, princess. Shh.”
I sucked in a deep inhale and clamped my legs around his hand, feeling too much and edging toward a new desperation for the pleasure to end. He stared deep in my gaze and read everything I needed, just as he promised. Slowly, his fingers stopped, his circles widened, until he pulled away. His hand hovered within view, spreading his fingers to show off the amount of cum streaking down his hand and between each digit.
It was obscene, but I didn’t care. My body struggled to recover the ability to breathe. It didn’t have time for shame.
It didn’t have time for shame.
A bubble of light built in my chest until it almost overflowed from my parted lips.
The other night, I had been determined more than ever to come, but once I reached the threshold, memories rushed in, reminding me of the doubt and shame that came with it. Even after the orgasm in the car, whispers of it lingered and followed me home.
However, now, spread wide on his desk, patches of red along my thighs, my nipples darker than I’d ever seen them, my mouth dry from the gasping orgasm, and probably a puddle under my ass…
I had no room for shame.
I orgasmed without shame.
Fire burned up the back of my throat, and I met his dark eyes. While earlier, I had been searching for a way to limit the connection, now I stared at him, aching for an extra thread that brought us closer. I dropped my eyes to his lips—the ones I’d fantasized about even when I hated him.
Fuck it.
I pressed up and latched onto his mouth, caving to my need and tasting him. My tongue slicked across that bottom lip I’d fantasized about and dug my teeth into its pillowy softness. So much better than I imagined.
Especially when, after a moment of hesitation, he groaned and parted his lips, sliding his tongue to meet mine. The tang of strawberries from lunch met my tastebuds, but quickly changed to a flavor that was just him.
More. More, more, more.
As if I hadn’t just come, my body ached for more.
I needed to be closer.
Supporting myself with one hand, I slid the other down his side until I found his belt. Determined, I deftly tugged it from the loops, finding a way to remove the latch to get to him.
He shoved my hand aside and took over. The clink of the metal rattled along my nerves, pushing me closer to the edge. Every sound—the whir of his zipper, the soft rustle of clothes being shoved down—dragged me deeper into the abyss.
I sank into the depths of want until the brush of his cock at my entrance jolted me to a halt. Whispers of reality tried to reach me, but I was too far gone to hear them. I dug my fingers through the soft strands of his hair and clenched them to a fist, unsure if I wanted to hold him to me or pull him away.
But then his teeth latched onto my lip as his length slid inside, and I was falling again.
He pushed until his hips met mine.
With my lip still held in his bite, I gasped around the pinch of pain from having him so deep. But then he retreated, soothing my stinging lip with his tongue. He pulled until only the head of his cock rested inside me. I tried to rock my hips to pull him back, but his hand gripped my hip with bruising strength and held me still.
His forehead pressed to mine, and I stole a glance to find his eyes closed and his mouth parted. The vision of him, the feel of him at the edge of my entrance, the puffs of breaths against my damp lips, it all swirled together, growing between us until I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t do anything but want. I couldn’t do anything but need.
A breath of a whimper escaped my swollen lips and broke the tension pressing in on us. Like a needle to a water balloon, it burst and flowed all around us instead of between us. He snapped his hips forward again and latched onto my mouth to swallow the shocked cry.
As quick as he thrust in, he pulled back and did it all over again. Again and again.
He didn’t stop, fucking me hard and fast, building me back up to the precipice I never thought to reach again while having sex. But I didn’t have time to think about it. There was no space in my mind for anything but feeling.
Feeling his mouth consume me.
Feeling his cock fill me, hitting deeper with each plunge.
Feeling his hips collide with mine and create the lewd sound of bodies coming together.
Feeling one of his hands hold me painfully tight while the other slid between our bodies.
When his thumb brushed my clit, I cried out just for him to swallow my pleasure. The sensations were dizzying and stole my breath. Needing air, I broke our kiss and let my head fall back, biting back moans when his mouth moved to my neck.
He kissed down one side and back up the other to my ear. “Come for me, Aspen. Let me feel your tight cunt milk my cock.”
His deep command. The filthy words. The continued assault on my core. His tongue making love to my neck.
It was all too much to control.
And I didn’t want to control it.
I wanted to let it go.
I wanted to come for him.
Dipping my chin, I pulled his mouth back to mine and gave him what he wanted.
My orgasm consumed me. My muscles contracted around him. My arms and legs holding him tight while my pussy clenched around his cock, desperate to keep him inside me.
My body trembled with the violence of the orgasm, and he held me just as close, never once stopping the brutal thrust of his hips. He dragged the pleasure from the depths of my soul, feeding off my quiet moans to fuel his orgasm.
Seconds after my body started to come back to me, his hips faltered, growing erratic until they stuttered to a stop deep inside me. He ripped his mouth away and buried it in my neck, vibrating my being with his groans of release.
I held him to me, running my nails through his hair, bringing him down from his orgasm like he’d done with me. Our breathing filled the space around us, cocooning us in the remains of pleasure, blocking out the world.
Until a knock on the door pierced the bubble, allowing reality to creep in.
Our bodies froze.
He slid from me and lifted his head from my chest, the loss of connection hitting me like a physical blow.
“Fuck,” he whispered.
No, no, no.
I wanted to pull him close and hide in the dark depths he dragged me into. I didn’t want to face reality. I didn’t want to face the fact that I laid sprawled on the desk of my enemy in the building I was determined to own.
“Fuck,” I mimicked his curse for my own reasons.
With a deep breath, he rolled his shoulders back and raised his gaze to mine. Heat, pleasure, dominance blended together with hints of something else I’d never seen in him before and couldn’t place. Something a little less sure. Before I could linger on the thought, his hand came up to stroke my cheek, luring me away from reality and back into his darkness. “Someday, I’m going to take you where I can watch the full explosion of your orgasm. It’s fucking stunning.”
The ache in my chest softened, and I leaned into his touch.
“Call out and tell them one minute,” he instructed.
My brows furrowed, and I almost bit back my question, but decided since this included someone outside of this room, it was beyond our scene, and I was allowed to ask. “Why?”
He huffed a laugh and stood upright, fixing his belt, collecting himself faster than I could keep up with. I blinked, struggling to process the shift from his head on my chest and the way he cradled my face to the cocky smirk and matching attitude. “Well, princess, I’m going to pretend to be on the phone as an excuse for why we are making them wait so long to come in. Unless you’d like to remain sprawled on my desk for whoever is on the other side of the door to also enjoy the delicious blush stretching down your chest…” He dragged his finger down my neck to between my sternum, letting the suggestion hang open ended.
Someone was waiting. Someone who would find us in the office together after at least a minute of no response.
Shit. Fuck. Mother fucking fuck shit.
“One moment,” I called softly.
Reality finally burst our bubble so thoroughly I had no chance of hiding from it again. Lucian had no chance of pulling me back under his intoxicating spell. I followed his lead and pulled myself together, falling back behind the shield of cold and control.
I glared, jerking my shirt closed and frantically buttoning it. “I’ll take a pass on anyone ever knowing what I let you do to me. I definitely don’t want anyone I know to join us,” I announced, the thought sending a shudder up my spine. I thought of the list I filled out earlier and made sure he knew it was a hard limit. “Add that to my list of things I don’t want to do. In the contract.”
His smirk grew to an irritating smile as he fell into his chair and picked up the phone, nodding to the door like I was some kind of secretary.
Once all my clothes were in place, I glared again and marveled at the change from less than two minutes ago and headed to the door.
Calm and cool, I reminded myself.
Although calm and cool got sucked out the door when I opened it to the one person who knew me best.
Shiloh.
She blinked while I stared wide-eyed, neither of us expecting the other. Of all the people I opened the door to, why did it have to be the one who knew me better than anyone?
“Hey,” she said slowly, snapping me out of my panicked stare.
“Hey.”
“I was just?—”
“We were just?—”
We both laughed softly before I rushed to finish. “Just looking over some applicants. During lunch,” I added when I noticed her scan the seating area and found our meals still sitting there.
She looked across the room and then back to me, questions filling her gaze. Needing to escape her suspicion, I glanced over my shoulder to Lucian, ignoring us while he carried on a pretend conversation.
I scoffed, leaning into the irritation she’d witnessed many times before—the irritation I needed to remember after so thoroughly losing myself. “I would have answered the door quicker, but I figured he would answer his own damn door. However, he decided snapping and pointing at the door was a better choice than simply asking. So, I decided to take my time to answer to piss him off.”
Despite my exaggerated eye roll, she still watched me carefully, looking for holes in my story. I plastered on an indifferent smile and held my breath.
The click of the phone setting down saved me from any more probing.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, Miss Walker,” Lucian said. He rose elegantly from his chair and crossed the space with an easy smile, exuding so much charm it made me want to gag. An easy charm that had not once been directed at me outside of our agreement. Ever since our first meeting, he’d done nothing but sneer and look down on me, treating me like an ungrateful child trying to steal from him.
Why?
A pinch formed around the word and filled me with doubt.
Of course, I hadn’t shown up as my best self at our first encounter, but he’d never even tried to look past it.
Neither had I… So, why did I care?
Because part of me was still kneeling at his feet, preening for his attention and pride. Part of me was still clutching the mind-numbing pleasure. Part of me was still waiting atop his desk for his approval.
Because part of me wanted him to care.
Our interactions can be intense and lead to a false sense of connection.
This does not earn you any favor with me. I owe you nothing beyond what we agree to.
I’d scoffed like a na?ve fool.
Now look at me, damn near simpering for affection I knew better than to expect.
The scene was over. We were done.
Cool air swept between my damp thighs, reminding me he still had my panties in his pocket. Reminding me that he made me come so hard that I probably left a small puddle on his desk.
The shame that hadn’t come earlier appeared now, dripping like oil, coating my memories in a black slick of doubt.
I’d been so lost in the euphoria, that I turned right back into that same teenage girl who dove headfirst into abandon without thought of the repercussions.
I’d been so lost in the euphoria, that…
I froze. Moisture dripped further down my thighs—more than my own cum.
I let him fuck me without a condom.
Shit.
I let him fuck me. Without. A. Condom.
On a desk that wasn’t even his, with employees I grew up around right outside his door.
I pinched my lips and squeezed my thighs, trying to banish the lingering pulse and stop his cum from dripping further. Instead, all it did was make a sticky mess that increased my awareness of how thoroughly he fucked me. Of how much I liked it. Of how hard he made me come during sex. Of how I wanted to do it again.
“I came by to drop off the paperwork you asked for,” Shiloh explained, holding out a file. “I also emailed it, so you have a digital copy.”
“Thank you, Miss Walker.”
“You can call me Shiloh,” she said. “Like I said, we use mostly first names to keep the work environment casual and relaxed.”
Another smile with more crooning words that blurred into a deep vibration that egged the pulsing on, throbbing to the same beat as the shame, shame, shame whispering through my mind.
I needed space.
I needed to get out of there and remind myself that what we talked about over lunch was separate from work—that the amazing orgasms he offered to give had nothing to do with his or my plans to sabotage the other.
I needed space.
“Let me know if you need anything else,” Shiloh said, turning to go.
“I’ll walk back with you,” I offered, latching onto an exit.
“Actually, Aspen,” Lucian announced. “I was hoping we could go over a few more points I wanted to include in our interviews.”
The words, yes sir , tried to spill from my lips, but I clamped them shut.
Exactly why I needed to get out. Pulling my shoulders back, I took a deep breath and met his gaze, no longer worried about earning his pride or finding disappointment that might stare back at me.
I was Aspen fucking Quinn, and I didn’t need his approval.
The more I said it, the more I distanced myself from earlier. The more control I took of the situation, the more the shame faded.
“We can talk later. Thank you for lunch, Mr. Daire.” A muscle clenched along his jaw, and I didn’t bother holding back the tip of my lips. “Let me know when we have another interview scheduled.”
With that, I faced Shiloh and asked her how her day was, dismissing Lucian as I walked away.
Shiloh’s gaze still held a suspicious glint, but I ignored it, taking my time to field each and every question. Once we entered the elevator, I pressed the button and laughed softly.
“You’re acting like you caught us fucking or something,” I teased, hoping that if I addressed the possibility first, then she’d be less likely to believe we did.
“Did I?” she asked after a hesitation.
“Oh my gosh, Shiloh. Ew. No.” I threw everything I had behind the denial while trying not to protest too much.
She studied me, and I struggled to slow my breathing and keep the heat from turning my cheeks crimson.
“Listen, Aspen,” she started, and my heart stumbled over itself. “I’m not saying I don’t believe you—in fact, I don’t want to know.” I opened my mouth to object, but she held up a hand. “It doesn’t matter. All that does matter is that you be careful. I like Lucian as a businessman, but I’ve known men like him before. Things almost always end in a painful trainwreck. So, just…be careful.”
Despite the sincerity and concern in her words, despite the lack of judgment and knowing I could admit anything to her, I wasn’t ready. I wanted to scoff and laugh and deny, deny, deny.
So, I did.
“Like I said before. I plan on stealing this entire company out from under him. I just need to focus on the five percent majority first and hiring someone that will direct the company in a way that keeps a company worth stealing. I don’t have time to fuck him.”
Even as I spouted my objection, I mentally pulled up my calendar and wondered when I could create enough time to be with him again.
Even as I knew I needed to put distance between us, I knew I’d see him again.
Even as I swore I didn’t need his approval, I looked forward to the power I felt under his pride-filled gaze.
Even as I promised I could control this, a part of me knew I didn’t want to.
The truth was that no matter what happened, I was beginning to worry I was screwed either way.