14. Sinclair
Sinclair
This time, when I guide Elyse into the bedroom and she sees what I have in store for her, she grins.
She fucking grins.
“I guess you warned me,” she says, eyes still on the contraption.
“Yep.” I watch her as she approaches and strolls around it, arms crossed over her chest, as if it’s an installation at an art gallery and not an actual ob-gyn chair, complete with stirrups. “You should know I’m a man of my word.”
“I’m beginning to see that.” She glances up at the wall, feigning indifference. “Well, the clock is ticking and all that.”
Little beauty. I close the space between us with a couple of strides.
“Someone’s anxious to get started,” I say, letting my fingers slide down her lapels.
Like last week, she’s in a silk Alchemy robe, but this week, I’ve told her I want nothing on underneath it.
I finger the tie around her waist. “May I?”
“You may, but I’m not getting in that thing until you’re naked,” she says, uncrossing her arms.
I chuckle, and her face lights up. “I’m sorry, you think you have leverage here?”
“I do until I sit down. Besides, we made a deal, remember? You promised.” Her voice falters slightly on that last part, as if she’s second-guessing herself.
The truth is, I don’t give a shit whether I’m naked or not, but she clearly does.
And if she likes what she sees, it’ll make it all the more tortuous for her when I restrain her.
“I remember.” I tug on the tie, and her robe falls open.
I’ve been in a state of heightened anticipation all week, but now I’m ravenous.
The suggestion of her breasts. The flat, creamy skin over her navel.
The neatly trimmed triangle of dark brown hair.
She is fucking perfect as she stands here before me.
I raise my hands and part the robe with my fingertips.
It slides off her shoulders and to the ground, and then she’s completely, wonderfully naked.
My hands slide to the silken skin of her breasts, and I palm them before snagging her already-hard nipples with my thumbs.
Her little noise of appreciation may be the end of me.
When I glance up from her breasts, I find her eyes fixed on my face in a silent question.
I sigh and release her breasts, holding out my arms wide in surrender. “Your turn now.”
She grins mischievously as she steps forward.
I’ve left my suit jacket in my car downstairs, so she goes straight for my shirt, working the buttonholes with her delicate little fingers.
When she gets as far as she can, she tugs the shirttails out from my pants and rapidly finishes the job.
I hold out my wrists so she can undo my cufflinks.
I’m obliging like that—I’d hate to see her efforts ruined when she tried to pull the sleeves off my arms.
Cufflinks flipped open, she gets me shirtless.
I expect her to make a start on my belt, but she pauses for a moment, taking me in, her eyes sweeping upward from my stomach and lingering on my pecs.
She licks her lips and, tossing the shirt on the floor, strokes her little hands down my chest. She appears transfixed.
Obviously, female appreciation for the fruits of my intensive labors at the K Klub isn’t uncommon, but it feels good to have Elyse, of all people, demanding to take more than the bare minimum from our time together—time I’m paying her for.
She looks back up at me through her sooty eyelashes as she makes quick work of my belt, button, and zipper.
I’m almost fully hard—seeing her naked and having her hands on me will do that.
She pushes my pants down, and I take a moment to toe off my loafers before I bend with a muttered excuse me and lose my pants and socks.
When I straighten up in just my black boxer briefs, her eyes are locked squarely on my dick.
“I’m feeling objectified,” I tell her in amusement, and she drags her gaze away to meet mine.
“Now you know how it feels.”
I smirk at her, and her face softens. “Yeah. Pretty fucking good. Go on.”
At my nod, she slides her fingers beneath the waistband of my briefs, and I suck in a harsh breath through my teeth as she wrangles them over my erection and down my legs.
I kick them off to the side and waste no time in hauling her against me, sliding one hand through her hair to grip the back of her head and the other down the small of her back until I can grab her ass.
She’s so fucking svelte in my arms, and pretty short, too.
I luxuriate in the simple pleasure of her skin against mine, of my dick jerking against her stomach.
I dip my head and seal my mouth over hers, allowing my tongue to find its path, licking along the seam of her lips until she yields and grants me entry.
I haven’t forgotten how much I enjoyed those indulgent post-fuck kisses last week.
I figured kissing her would be a good way to stoke the fires of my anticipation this evening, and I was absolutely correct.
Last week, I held off on my own orgasm so I could focus on exploring her, but it was no mean feat.
Tonight, I plan to take the edge off my own appetites before I get her in that chair and whet hers.
As she grips my biceps for dear life and her plush lips slide against mine, I congratulate myself in advance.
We have an hour, after all. I can come a lot more than once.
I release her mouth; my hands move to her breasts.
Languorously, I circle her nipples with the lightest touch, and her eyes flutter closed.
“I’ll make every single dream of yours come true in that chair.
But you have to earn it first.” Her eyes snap open.
“Now, get on your knees. Show me what else that lovely little mouth can do.”
There’s a flash of surprise on her face—she didn’t anticipate this twist—but no revulsion.
“Yes, sir,” she whispers after a beat before sinking to her knees a little awkwardly.
She’s not a pro. This is not standard behavior for her.
And I adore that. I love knowing what a rare treat this is for a man, having her do this.
Kneeling before me, she wraps her fingers around my aching dick, and I shudder out a sigh of pleasure.
She reaches between my legs with her other hand and fondles my balls.
Her touch is careful, hesitant, her breath warm against my sensitized flesh.
I stare down intently as she finally, finally leans forward and licks a path along my poor, weeping slit.
It is shockingly good, white-hot in the pleasure it gives me.
I let out a groan that sounds every bit as pained as I feel, and she freezes, looking up in alarm.
“Don’t stop,” I rasp. “So good. Keep going.”
And so she does, using that pretty pink tongue of hers to circle my crown once, twice, making a little humming noise as she does.
Then she’s taking me in her mouth, tentatively at first, as she finds her way, and then more confidently.
She leans in farther, her fingers squeezing me even more tightly.
My crown hits the spongy back of her throat, and I practically shoot through the roof.
There’s a small, spluttering sound from her, but the little beauty doesn’t gag, just does it again.
Arousal is spiraling through my body like a tornado, ratcheting up and up and threatening to chuck me through the roof of this fine establishment.
I yield to instinct and thread my fingers through her shiny curtain of hair so I can grip her jaw and dictate the pace.
Her eyelashes flutter, my dick gleams with her saliva, and the muscles of her jaw work so valiantly beneath my fingertips.
I tell her, with decreasing coherence and increasing fervor, how good it feels to fuck her mouth, how filthy she looks on her knees for me, and how good it’s going to feel when I return the favor.
My dick is insanely hard, insanely swollen.
The poor woman can barely fit it in her mouth, but boy, is she a trooper.
I want to sink to the floor and die with the sheer pleasure of this sensation.
I want to shoot my load equally down her throat and all over those pert little tits of hers, and I’m wild with the thought of either, with the knowledge that, any second now, she’ll force me over the edge.
The tits win.
“Wait,” I gasp, sounding every bit as out of control as I am. “Stop.”
She stops immediately, popping off my dick with an audibly wet slap and leaning back a little.
“Just like that,’ I say, easing her hand off me and replacing her fingers with mine. “Stay just like that. Keep totally still like a very good girl so I can paint you.”
“Okay,” she says, her beautiful dark eyes darting frantically around my face before latching on to my dick.
I’m gratified to see them widen as I work myself like a maniac, pumping and pumping away at the very last vestiges of my self-control until I erupt, my groans ragged and my cum spurting endlessly as I empty myself all over Elyse’s perfect, pale little tits.