10. Cassie
Cassie
T he whole breathing thing sounded like rocket science right about now. Speaking? Speaking was in the realm of operating an alien ship. Instead, Cassie did the one thing she could do.
She got up. She turned around. She bent down and placed her hands on his mahogany desk.
“Good girl.”
Oh, god. Her skin tingled, she got goosebumps, as though a sudden gust of wind had frozen and warmed her bones all at once.
And all he’d done was say those two words.
What was this? Something beyond comprehension, beyond logic. Something she would have had no way to understand if she hadn’t stood there and experienced it.
“Now let’s get a few things clear, Cassie.
This is crossing a lot of lines. However way you put it, this is intimate.
Sensual. I want you to understand that you do not have to do this.
Our friendship, your job, my help with your book – none of it is dependent on you letting me spank you right now. Are we clear?”
She nodded.
“Speak.”
Oh, fuck. Forcing any kind of sound past her throat was an effort, overwhelmed as she was, but she obeyed.
“Clear.”
“Good. If you want to stop, tell me. Instead, I’ll spank you until I deem the score settled. We can resolve this issue with farting cushions, laxatives, or other methods you’ll find tremendously embarrassing. Or we can do this. It’s entirely up to you.”
Oh, no. Why did he give her a choice, when there was none?
How could she accept, or refuse, for that matter?
This already felt better than anything she’d ever experienced, but if she had to admit that she wanted more out loud, she was gonna die of mortification.
Never mind farting cushions, this was torture.
“I… I think we should do it. For…research purposes. For my book.”
That sounded genuine, right?
“I thought you might say that. Right, well, there’s two ways to go about this now, Ms. Franklin.
We can keep this lovely dress where it is, or push it out of the way.
In either case, I would consider my retribution accomplished.
But if you intend to use this experience as research material…
you may want to move it. For authenticity, of course. ”
“Of course,” she repeated in a needy whisper.
First, there was an endless silence, utter stillness filled with tension, and then, his voice again.
“This makes us exactly what my mother accused us of being, Cassie. Friends with benefits. I don’t have the time to offer more. You understand that?”
That made her stop; she hadn’t even considered the possibility of more, but did that mean… would they do it? Was he going to… Oh god. The very possibility blew her mind.
“I… Are we…”
“No, sweet. But even without fucking, this is sex. Don’t think otherwise.”
She pondered upon those words for a moment, but two seconds later there was no word, no thought, nothing in the world, except him.
She yelped, more in surprises than pain, when his hand slapped her right ass cheek, but no sooner had she registered the hit that he was running his palm in circles, soothing the sting.
This felt… this was… everything.
She felt him absolutely everywhere, against her clit, her hardening nipples, her inner core, tightening with need.
What the fuck was this? Black magic?
“You have a lovely ass, Cassie. Round and firm… probably red.”
Slap.
This time, it was the left cheek, still over her clothes, but when his hand caressed her, it lingered at the hem, pushing it up, brushing against her sensitive skin.
“Please,” she whimpered, her voice so thick with need she barely recognized it.
She wasn’t even sure what she was begging for.
Carter slowly ran his hand up her cheeks, until the skirt was bundled up to her waist. Then to her infinite pleasure and humiliation, she felt his lips drop on her butt cheek, followed by the graze of his teeth.
She moaned long, loud and proud, like a desperate cat in heat – exactly what he was reducing her to.
Slap.
“Yes!”
His hands didn’t stop, relentlessly slapping her cheeks in a rhythm that was going to drive her to mindlessness, and when she couldn’t take any more, they caressed and cajoled and he kissed her burning flesh.
“Fuck!” she yelped, taken by surprise when every tense muscle exploded.
Her panties were drenched, uncomfortable, and she was out of breath, lost, and, somehow, content, too.
She turned around when her galloping heart finally consented to slow down, and frowned when she took Carter in.
He seemed… serious. Pissed off, maybe. She’d never seen those grey eyes quite so dark, and dangerous.
“Are you okay?”
He chuckled humorlessly.
“There’s a gorgeous ass that I just reddened with my palm and a wet pussy taunting me, so of course I’m not okay. I will be, though. Just get out of my office, go home, and lock yourself under dead bolts.”
She stared some more, unmoving.
“I’m a man of my word, Cassie. I said I wouldn’t fuck you. I don’t have time for a woman, and you’re the relationship kind – you deserve it all. Just go.”
Cassie bit her lip. Usually, when she was contemplating something risqué, she wondered what the protagonists in her book would do, and forced herself to play the part.
This time, she didn’t need to. Seeing that beautiful, perfect man, looking so disturbed, so close to undone, after touching her, was all she needed.
Cassie straightened up, moved to face him, and dropped to her knees, ignoring the sting when her sore ass pressed against her ankles.
“What are you doing?”
“We’re friends, Carter,” she said with more confidence than she’d ever felt. “And friends don’t let friends get blue balls.”
And on that note, she unbuttoned him, unzipped his fly, let his trousers fall in a puddle at his feet, and glided his white boxers down his strong, muscular legs.
Fuck.
Her eyes bulged; she had expected a dick, not a fucking monster. The thing looked angry, menacing, throbbing and pointing right to her face.
Before her mind could wonder about the technicalities, she shut the brain down, and wrapped her lips around his shaft.