Chapter 19 - Blanche
Chapter nineteen
“And of course, next spring, we’ll go to Banff as always. I hope you’ll change your mind and join us, dear. Even if it’s last minute, we’ll always have room for you.”
“Thanks, Mom. I’ll keep that in mind. You never know, maybe work will ease up, and I’ll be able to join you. I hate planning that far in advance.”
She moves her attention to the conversation Dad is having with Pam and Charlie, and I’ve never been so thankful that my cousin has been around more.
Since the night of the Taranov-Sinclair engagement extravaganza, when we ended up in two hotel rooms, each with one-half of a married couple, swapping in the morning, he’s been making it a point to check in on me.
I also think he and Pam might have something going on, although either they fuck quieter than anyone I’ve ever heard or I sleep more deeply than I thought. Or someone’s drugging me to sleep…
It’s impossible to stop the wistful sigh that escapes, but only Pam notices, giving me a half smile across the table.
She’s heard all my confusing feelings, especially as I’ve gone back to work, doing my best to ignore Henry.
My feelings don’t make sense, even to me, and I think I mostly miss the sex.
God knows I can’t miss the asshole himself.
This must just be the little melancholy mood that comes with having a scorching-hot affair that ends before you expected it to.
Dates I’ve been on since the party have fallen flat, although one man showed promise in the bedroom and had a friend eager to join.
One of them dropped me off at work yesterday morning just as Henry was walking in.
He opened the door and said, “Good morning, Miss Bedford.” Hopefully, the tension is easing, and before long, we’ll forget our little tryst ever existed.
“Miss Bedford? Mr. Sinclair asked you to join him in his office. He said the door will be shut, but please open it and go right in as soon as you arrive.”
Hmm. Definitely not how I expected my day to end. Everyone else has left, and the main desk staff are packing up their things…He must want me alone. Before any hint of nerves can show, I make my way to Henry's office and let myself in.
“There she is. That's the good girl I've been waiting for. Doing exactly what I told you to do.”
He's staring right at me, gray eyes I've pretended not to miss, giving me the attention I crave.
Hands splayed wide on the desk, he leans heavily forward, dress shirt askew with the top three buttons undone.
Fuck, he looks wrecked. The heat radiating from him makes me want to ride him into oblivion…
“Mmph!”
A garbled exclamation from under the desk pulls into sharp focus exactly what I'm looking at, moments before Henry throws his head back in a satisfied groan.
“Goddamn, baby. What a good little cocksucker you are. Too good. Get up here before I blow in your mouth. I want to destroy that little cunt.”
The sharp pain I remember from the party doesn't return, nor does the terrible ache. Instead, an entirely new sensation fires across every nerve in my body. I'm hyperaware of every goose bump, every breath into my lungs, every beat of my heart.
Not necessarily that he's fucking someone else because I haven't been celibate. Plus, she sounds hot, at least from the little kittenish noises she's making as he thrusts a few more times into her mouth.
No, this rage, this disbelief, is at this asshole deciding to call me in here to what? Power play me? For moving on after being blindsided that I'd been fucking an engaged man?
The woman finally stands up, dragging her bright blue nails up Henry's trousers as she does, before arching her back and facing forward. As Henry puts on a condom, she finally notices me, and—
“Blanche! Hello, my dear, it's so, unghh. Nice to see you.”
Fucking Christine, so polite she barely moaned when Henry put his cock in her, just to finish greeting me. Her eyes roll back into her head as Henry reaches forward to put three fingers deep into her mouth, causing her to gag and drool on the desk.
“You aren’t here to make small talk with the help, bitch. Shut. Up.”
His thrusts are relentless, and my brain is finally catching back up to the situation after the shock of Henry fucking a woman whose pussy I was eating not long ago, when he looks at me and smirks.
This motherfucker, who fucked me without the decency to ask if I had a problem being the other woman, which I always do, is smirking and holding my gaze.
If I thought I felt pain at his engagement party, all I can feel now is rage.
Instead of the dull ache in the pit of my stomach, an electric coil winds up my spine, sparking and sputtering and begging me to destroy something.
He bends Christine’s knee onto the desk, throwing his head back and groaning dramatically at the deeper angle.
It’s obvious this performance is for me, and I can’t even hear her pussy from across the room, so she must not be very wet.
His motivations don’t make me any less mad, though, and I have to fight through the haze threatening to consume me to try to plot my revenge.
He’s gone too far in disrespecting me this time.
I’ll humiliate him, request a transfer with HR, and wash my hands of this entire sordid affair.
The dull, aching sensation returns at the thought of never seeing him again, but it’s immediately snuffed out by the tidal wave of rage still seeping into every cell of my body.
After a relatively quiet, uninspired fucking, during which I’m positive Christine didn’t come, Henry pulls out to rip off the condom and come on her ass.
With a quick dismissal, she’s wrapped in her trench coat and telling me we must meet for brunch soon before tittering out of the office.
It’s just Henry and me now. He lights a cigarette before sitting down heavily in his leather chair, still mostly dressed, with his half-hard cock flopped out of the placket of his trousers.
I could open my argument, yell at him, and throw insults that wouldn’t come close to piercing his brittle exterior. Or…
Or.
With a flick of my wrist, the office door locks behind me, and I make a show of slowly dropping to my knees.
It hurts to crane my neck to keep eye contact with him as I slowly cross the room, but I suffer, and seeing the lust laced with fear in his eyes is heady.
He’s right to fear me, especially after what he pulled today.
When I reach him, sprawled out in his chair like he owns the place, which I suppose he does, I methodically remove his shoes and socks.
Still silent, he lifts his hips to allow me to pull off his trousers and boxers, only raising an eyebrow when I take the cigarette from his mouth and take my own long drag.
I luxuriate in the burn, the nicotine exquisite as it joins the sparking rage still simmering under the surface of my skin. It’s a volatile combination, and I feel primed to explode, like an open tank of gasoline that shouldn’t be anywhere near a flame.
Better put it out, then.
Exhaling all my smoke directly into Henry’s face, his own anger and cough a cool tonic to my burn, I gently move the cigarette to his left pec and push.
With a roar at the unexpected pain, he pushes me off my haunches and onto my back, and I cackle as he rips the rest of his shirt off before pinning me to the floor. His hand around my throat is tight enough to kill if he wanted to, and we both know it.
Fuck, I’m wet.
“Are you deranged, bitch? Did you want to make me mad enough to hate fuck you the way whores enjoy? What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“You’re what’s wrong with me!” I scream in his face, unleashing the whip of anger that’s been longing to strike. “You narcissistic, lying son of a bitch—”
He’s laughing now, flipping me over onto my stomach and pushing into me bare in a blink.
“Here you go, slut. You wanted my cock again? You can have it. You think being engaged means I won’t be using my little free-use secretary anymore?”
It’s hard to remember my endgame when he’s slamming into my G-spot with every punishing thrust and threatening my cervix with direct insemination. I need him exhausted, though, and hopefully at least a little pussy drunk. Unless he really didn’t mean anything he ever said…I stay silent.
“Where are all your whore moans, hmm? Was this not what you wanted? I can’t say I’m complaining…
I’ve missed watching this fat ass recoil while you take me.
No condom, Blanche. I’m sure you noticed.
I’ve been thinking it might be fun to have you and Natalya pregnant at the same time.
You could do your little mommy-to-be classes together, see whose tits get bigger. ”
It’s impossible not to clench at his degradation, even as I continue to seethe.
“I’m gonna fill you up, and you better hope it takes.
I told Carter that after I got at least two out of you, he could breed you if he wanted.
You know how he is, though. Fucker might see it as competition and start really coming after you.
If you want peace anytime soon, you’d better hope mine sticks. ”
Fuck him, I’m flying. A painful orgasm wracks its way through me, oil on the flames that have been threatening to consume me since I stepped into this room.
With a deep groan, Henry stills behind me, and I feel the pulse of the seed he’s so proud of filling me to the brim.
He falls backward dramatically, stretching his hands above his head and lying naked and splayed between the heavy marble coffee table that dominates the seating area of his office and his desk.
After two back-to-back rounds, I should have a few minutes at least before he rouses. A soft snore tells me he must have had a long day, and padding over closer, I can see the bags under his eyes. Maybe he’s been up all night lately tending to his fiancée.
Good for her.
Hoping that he’s as well prepared as he was the last time I was in his office, I quietly open the lower desk drawer and thumb the pressure point for the false bottom.
It opens to reveal multiple sets of handcuffs and some silk rope, exactly where he left everything the last time he threatened a repeat of our basement kidnapping weekend.
I wince as I click the handcuffs around each of his wrists, then use the other set to secure him to a leg of his immovable desk.
It’s a point of pride for Henry how heavy and well-made all the furniture in this office is, so he won’t be going anywhere.
The cuffs are similarly top of the line, and he stands no chance of escape without the key.
His legs are harder to deal with, and he may eventually get himself out of the silk rope, even with my rudimentary knowledge of bondage ties.
He’ll have to decide whether it’s worth it to risk cutting off circulation to his feet to try to get free.
He’s a smart enough man. I doubt he’ll take the chance.
With the mighty Henry Sinclair Jr. secured, naked as the day he was born, across the floor of his grand office, I’m ready to provide his wake-up call. Squatting over his face, I take a moment to admire his features, softened with sleep but no less devastating. Our children really would be gorgeous…
Sitting down with force, I cover his nose and mouth with my pussy and wait. He might choke on his own cum if I’m not careful, but that’s not my problem.
Soon, he thrashes slightly before his eyes pop open, wildly searching to make sense of why he’s immobilized and suffocating. His muffled yelp of alarm vibrates my clit just right, and I can’t help but moan and rock back and forth, unfortunately allowing him room to speak.
“Whatthefuck? Get off me!” His muffled protests only spur me on.
“Clean me up. Surely, you love the taste of yourself as much as you do everything else about you. Be a good boy for me, Henry.”
He whimpers and thrusts his tongue into my messy channel, and I'm so primed from the power of having him helpless beneath me that I shatter again.
He groans, lapping up my release, seemingly blissfully forgetting that he's at my mercy. Eating his fill, it’s not until I continue to grind, covering his nose and mouth again, that he remembers his predicament and starts squirming again.
He’s lucky I’m too sensitive for his tongue, and he takes a deep breath as I slide down to slot myself against his rapidly hardening cock.
“Blanche, let me up this instant, or I’ll—”
“Or you’ll what? Marry someone else? Fuck someone else while I watch, like a petty teenager? And an uninspired fuck, at that. Really, Henry, you know it takes at least a little pizzazz to impress me.”
The fire in his eyes is undeniable, but he can’t control his reaction as I sink down onto him, slowly using him for my pleasure.
“I don’t think anyone has ever had the upper hand with you, have they? Maybe your daddy, I guess…”
The anger in his eyes is delightful. He’s so mad. I’ve finally shut him up.
“But in case you haven’t noticed, Mr. Sinclair, you’re trapped. You’re going to lie here while I get myself off, then I’m going to leave you here, covered in sweat and my cum, for whoever is first in the office tomorrow to find.”
A softer orgasm takes me by surprise, and he groans as I lift off him.
Whether he’s mad, high, tired, or just in shock, I don’t know and don’t care.
I’ve accomplished what I needed to. Dressing myself, I pause on my way out and gently push his aching cock into his stomach, my stiletto heel digging into the soft flesh of his balls.
“I’ll see you in the morning, Mr. Sinclair. Have a wonderful night. I hope you sleep well before our big meeting.”
The click of his office door behind me is almost as satisfying as the roar I hear as I reach the elevator.
The anger from earlier joins the renewed ache in my chest, combining to form a feeling I wouldn’t wish on anyone.
My revenge tastes sweet on my tongue, though, and I feel perversely excited for tomorrow.
Let’s see what Henry has to say now.