Chapter 38
Dominic
I couldn’t believe my fucking luck.
Somehow, someway, I’d duped the girl of my dreams to play a game with me in which her sole objective was to prove to my undeserving, simping ass that she could “outslut” my imagination.
Alice Cloutier was on the other side of that door, getting ready to prove to me that she was, in fact, a massive slut.
I didn’t even give a fuck if I won this one.
In fact, I hoped to god I didn’t.
I had one objective, and one objective only: make it to the end of the game without passing out or going into cardiac arrest.
Checking my watch again, I palmed the leaking bulge straining my slacks and sucked in a long, deep breath.
I didn’t know what role she had in mind for herself, but I’d figured it would be easier to adapt if I were fully dressed.
Not to mention, I’d needed to keep my hands busy while I trudged through the longest five minutes of my life.
Beep beep beep beep.
My pulse jumped to my throat.
I reached for the textured, bronze door handle, tracing the design with my thumb, my blood humming with fiery anticipation. One last deep breath, and I stepped inside.
She was on the bed, scrolling through her phone, wearing a black bra so lacey and thin that it barely covered anything and a familiar plaid skirt that had been rolled up high enough to break every dress code in existence.
I was going to burst through my zipper.
She shot me a “surprised” glance, then narrowed her ethereal green eyes. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you to knock?”
It took so long for my blood-deprived brain to decipher the words that she broke character, her pretty pink lips spreading into an are-you-okay smile as she furrowed her brows.
Get it together.
I rolled my sleeves, forcing my voice to settle into the calm, authoritative one I normally reserved for board meetings. “Why would I knock on any door in this house? I own it.”
Her eyes flared briefly, flashing with amusement. “With all due respect, Dominic—”
“That’s Mr. Crawford to you, Miss Cloutier. Regardless of where our interactions take place.”
She tried to bite back her smile but failed. “Mr. Crawford, while both my parents and I appreciate your generosity and the postgrad internship opportunity, I’m sure they’d also agree that I’m entitled to a basic level of privacy.”
I stepped into the room, shut the door, and locked it. “Yes, well, as it turns out, Miss Cloutier, in order to keep a postgraduate internship as a live-in assistant, you do, occasionally, have to assist.”
She sat up. “And what, pray tell, can I assist you with at 10:45 on a Saturday night, Mr. Crawford?”
I racked my brain, scrambling through my choices before I made my pick, opting for the shock factor. “I need help picking out a gift for my wife.”
Alice ran her tongue across her top teeth, and my cock strained against its confinement, demanding to be let out.
“An affair partner would be my recommendation. Someone capable of actually getting her off.” She grinned, gesturing around her. “Thin walls.”
I shot her a glare, slowly approaching the bed until I was standing directly in front of her. She swallowed, her gaze dipping to the bulge in my pants. “I don’t tolerate disrespect in my home, Miss Cloutier. Consider that your last opportunity to get it out of your system.”
She raised a brow. “Or what?”
My gaze meandered down to her perfect tits. “Consequences. Some disciplinary action might do you some good.”
She smiled, all innocence. “And getting the chance to experience at least one orgasm in her life will do your wife a lot of good. My recommendation still stands. Are we done here?”
I stuffed my hands into my pockets, pressing my lips together in faux disappointment. “Where do you keep your toys, Miss Cloutier?”
“Excuse me?”
“Your toys. Where do you keep them?”
She crossed her arms. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I cocked my head. “It’s funny. Nowhere on your resume did you think to mention that you fuck yourself on camera for money.”
Her eyes lit up. She broke character, mouthing “oooh, scandalous” up at me before regaining control of her expression. “You found my account?”
“Thin walls, remember?” The more I leered down at her, the more color seemed to spread over her cheeks.
So I leaned in harder. “I’d cooperate if I were you, Miss Cloutier.
That is, unless you want me to provide every future employer who contacts me for a reference with a link to a video of you fingering yourself for tips. ”
Her mouth popped open.
“Too far?” I asked.
She shook her head, her shock quickly morphing into a grin. “They’re under the bed.”
I rewarded her with a clipped smile. “Good girl. Now, why don’t you get them out and show me?”
She did as she was told, covering her perfect ass with her hand with false modesty as she retrieved a small box from under her bed. She clutched it protectively to her stomach as she sat back down on the edge of the mattress, dragging her bottom lip through her teeth.
Christ. I’d happily sign away a fucking organ to shove my cock into that mouth just once.
“Open it.”
She peeled the lid off, and it was my turn to break character. “Are you fucking serious?” I asked her, my brows hitting my hairline.
She shrugged. “I learned pretty quickly that having sex with most men is a lot like trying to scratch an itch with a feather. So I took matters into my own hands.”
The thing was filled with a range of toys of all different shapes, colors, and sizes. Images of her using each one flashed through my head, and I almost blacked out.
Clearing my throat, I ripped my gaze away and willed myself back into character. It took a minute.
“Which one is your favorite?” I asked.
“Why would my boss need to know that?”
“I already said I need your help picking out a gift for my wife.” I dragged a chair over to the bed and took a seat, trapping her knees between my own. “How many more times do you expect me to repeat myself, Miss Cloutier?”
She tentatively reached into the box and pulled out a red rose. “Fine. Here. This would be my recommendation. I’ll go ahead and order one for you tomorrow. Are we good?”
“I’d like a little product demonstration first. Need to make sure it really works.”
She swallowed, her cheeks flaming as her eyes shimmered with excitement. “What if someone walks in?”
“The door is locked, and my wife left on a business trip this morning. Won’t be back until next week. You’d know that if you were doing your job.”
She squirmed. “But… wouldn’t she get mad if she found out?”
“I’m disciplining a mouthy intern who refuses to do her fucking job while simultaneously picking out a gift for her. I’m doing nothing wrong, so there’s nothing for her to find out.” I sat back, gripping my bulge. “Now, open your fucking legs.”
She squirmed again, panting a little as she hesitated. I edged forward and grazed her cheek with my thumb. “Hey. Are you good?”
That smile of hers could’ve brought an entire kingdom crumbling to the ground if she timed it right. “Yeah. This is fun. Like… more fun than I was expecting.”
A soft chuckle drifted out of me as I tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “Good.”
“What about you?” she asked. “Are you having fun?”
My heart pinched. “More fun than I’ve had in a long, long time.”
Her expression softened. “Okay.”
“Okay,” I whispered back. “We keep going?”
She nodded, and I stole a quick kiss before reassuming my position. “Spread your legs. I won’t ask again.”
With a slow shiver, she squeezed her thighs together. Then, gingerly, she opened them, nudging down her skirt to keep herself covered.
“Lift your skirt.”
Her grip on the fabric tightened before she peeled it up to reveal her perfect, mouthwateringly dark pink pussy.
I leaned forward and forced her thighs wider apart. She tried to wiggle away and cover herself again, but I tightened my grip and pinned her in place. She broke character with a moan that made my head spin.
“Why the fuck are you soaking fucking wet?” I growled accusingly.
“I’m sorry. I can’t help it.”
She whimpered, turning her head into the duvet as I brushed a thumb over her slit. “This is completely inappropriate, Miss Cloutier. I’m a married man.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
I grabbed a pillow and shoved it under her lower back, my entire body vibrating at the sight of her pulsating, begging for cock.
“An apology isn’t going to cut it,” I ground out, tugging my belt off.
“You need to learn a few lessons on how to conduct yourself in the workplace, Miss Cloutier. Multiple lessons, in fact. Your internship responsibilities are officially revoked; instead, you and I are going to spend the next year doing intensive PA training with a focus on submission through behavioral correction. You’ll report to my office as soon as my wife leaves for work, and again after she goes to bed. ”
She let out a shaky breath, her cheeks flushed as she whispered, “You’re weirdly good at this.”
I tapped at my temple. “Slut brain.”
She fell back onto the bed with a huffy laugh. “We’re so keeping this storyline going for the next, like, year. I really, really want to do the training. All of it.”
And just like that, she secured her win.