Chapter 21 Helena #2
“I’m assuming someone will,” I said. “Either Vanguard sees the debt attached to the Vanguard name, or she does. The lenders are particularly vicious, and I made sure Vanguard holdings was listed as a guarantor.”
Erryn cocked her head, looking up at me with a slight tilt to her lips.
God, I wanted those lips between my thighs right now.
“Every message now passes through my system first,” I said.
“And when she opens it, logs in, forwards it, or tries to dispute the debt,” I said, “the connection routes through the shadow relay I built. That gives me an IP address, a device fingerprint, and probably a regional trace. We just need to string Vanguard along, let him think you are cornered and taking the Washington Chair, and give Octavia enough time to fall into the trap. As soon as we have her location, we have him.”
Erryn was quiet for a moment, scanning through the documents again. Her faint smile widened. For the first time since Vanguard called, she looked almost amused.
“Helena.”
“Yes?”
“I’m impressed.”
I shifted on her lap, pleased with myself. “How impressed?” I teased, rocking my hips against her once.
“Very,” she murmured, pulling me down into a kiss. “I want you bent over this table, Helena. It’s all I've been able to think about all god damned day.”
An ache pulsed low in my stomach at her words, but I paused, pretending to think, then yelped in surprise as she bit my collarbone.
“Now,” she said.
Fucking hell. No matter how many times this woman fucked me, it wasn’t enough. My body craved her touch even while tender from it.
I slid back onto the edge of the table and smirked at her. “This table?”
She stood, crowding me with an arm on either side as she leaned forward, her eyes never leaving mine.
“I’ll give you one chance to be a good little agent and turn around.”
I raised a brow. “Last time I checked, the dildo of consequence was still at the Meridian.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” Erryn crooned, leaning in to nip my earlobe. “I don’t need the dildo of consequences to have you feeling me for days after. Don’t forget who I am.”
She took me off guard, my wrist suddenly caught in her firm grip, my body turning as my arm was twisted up behind my back, my hips slamming into the table as she pushed me down onto it.
Erryn chuckled softly as a well-placed shove with her knee made me spread my legs wider to balance, her thigh pinning me there.
“That’s better,” she murmured, sliding her hand over my hip and down, reaching between my thighs.
She was a fucking demon with those fingers, brushing past my clit lightly, the lock she had me in just tight enough to set a steady burn in my shoulder.
“So wet already,” she said, sliding her fingers through my arousal and back up to my clit in maddeningly slow strokes.
“I was thinking about that cute little blonde in reception,” I said, turning my head enough to eye her over my shoulder. “You know, the one who keeps asking if I need anything with that hopeful look in her—”
I cut off as she twisted my arm higher, with a noise I swear was nearly a growl.
“Careful,” she warned. “I don’t share.”
“No?” I teased, pushing my hips back against her, desperate for more friction and biting back a groan of frustration as her hand moved with me, still with those light strokes that were going to have me begging far too soon.
“No,” she said. “And if she flutters those ridiculous stick-on lashes at you again, I’ll make sure she never works in the industry again.
” She ran a finger down either side of my clit, the sudden change in pressure distracting me as she released my arm to push my trousers off my hips.
She scissored her fingers slowly, and I gasped at the sensation, pressing my hips into her hand as pleasure rolled through me with every flex of her hand.
“Fuck,” I breathed, my forehead dropping to the table.
“Oh, there it is,” she murmured. “That little moment where you want what I’m doing more than you want to fight.” Her free hand slipped down. “Such a perfect little compliant streak you have for such a savage little heathen. It’s like you were made for me.”
I groaned as she slipped two fingers into me, instantly finding the perfect spot within me as her other hand worked my clit. I tried to summon the willpower to push back—mouth off at her a little more to wind her up—but then she slipped a third finger inside me and my mind went blank.
I was dripping down my thighs and could hear how wet I was as her fingers pressed deeper into me, dragging out another moan as I gripped the edge of the table.
Her foot nudged my ankle, and I moved my legs wider, her soft noise of approval just adding to the pleasure building with every stroke of her fingers.
“Look how well you’re taking me,” she murmured, slowly working in a fourth finger.
I swore and groaned, pushing back and losing myself to the sensation. It was nearly too much. It was too much. But I wanted more, wanted her deeper, harder.
“Slow down,” she said, her voice low and husky as I rocked my hips, trying to urge her faster. “Breathe for me.”
I did, my panting breaths slowing as I focused on her voice as slowly—so slowly—she tucked her thumb, working more of her hand into me.
I cried out as she stroked my clit through the burn, pleasure and pain threatening to throw me into an orgasm. Every time I reached the peak of the wave, she stilled, drawing back so I stayed on the edge.
“This is mine,” she said, as my body stretched enough to take her hand.
Her words and the fullness of her so deep in me, while her other hand still teased my clit, were the sweetest torture.
I didn’t want it to end, and my fingernails dug into the edge of the table as she fucked me with her fist in shallow thrusts, each one building the pressure that had to break soon, or I was going to implode.
“Erryn,” I gasped.
“Say it, Lena.”
“Yours,” I breathed, my mind caught between her words and what she was doing to my body. “Erryn. Fuck. I need to—”
Then she did something—pressed against something inside me that had my knees buckling, and the orgasm hit me so mercilessly that it took my ability to breathe, hear, and even my vision dimmed, as my entire body was lost to waves of pleasure.
I don’t quite know when my senses returned, or when she removed her hand, only vaguely aware that we had ended up crumpled on the floor, me a boneless mess curled in her lap as she leaned against the table leg, smoothing the damp curls away from my face.
My mind was a puddle, unable to form a coherent thought beyond the nagging concern she had only said those things in the heat of the moment.
Mine. It was dangerously addictive to someone who wanted it so badly.
“Is that all you got?” I murmured, cracking my eye to peer at her. “C’mon, Lox. You can do better than that.”