Chapter 19
“You want me to wear this to a fashion gala?”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“What’s wrong with you?”
“Emmeline.”
I release a whine and breath all at once. “Sorry, I’m just extra sassy today because you sprung this on me with zero time to prepare.”
“No, no, don’t pull that with me. I told you about it a week ago. It’s just the New York City Ballet. It also happens to be a fashion-oriented gala.”
“Just the NYC Ballet,” I repeat in a huff. “That’s not my issue—the dress is fucking gorgeous.” My fingers run over the layers of organza that make up the skirt. “The fact that it’s a gala is the problem.”
“You don’t want to go?”
I make a noise of protest because I really, really do. But it’s me.
“I’m just—this is the first time we’ve gone somewhere so public that isn’t just a date. You’re gonna be schmoozing with people, and I’m gonna have no idea what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. My main priority is that you’re comfortable—I won’t let you out of my sight if that makes you feel better.”
“Worried I’ll find some other old guy to go home with?”
“No, I’m worried they’ll try to take you home and not by asking.”
“Okay, yeah, I would not prefer that option. I’ll be your puppy for the night.”
He chuckles deep and low. “Should I get you a matching leash?”
“I think the matching panties are enough.” I hook my finger over the scrap of lace that’s more fitting for a runway lingerie show than my body. But I can’t wait to wear them anyway.
“I’ll be there at five-thirty to pick you up.”
“Got it. I’ll be ready.”
He makes a noise that I can only attribute to a groan, and surely that can’t be because he doesn’t believe me.
The door buzzer rings incessantly through the apartment while I’m in the middle of flipping a flat iron through my hair to curl it, the sound making me jump. The hotplate touches my neck for only a second, but it’s enough for me to bang my elbow on the door and drop the flat iron in the sink with a hiss.
But it stops just as I wrap the towel back around my body, and I can only hope it’s Fred arriving for Cora. Because by no surprise, we’re all going to the same place tonight. She’s been ready for an hour already so she’s taken to complaining that the lowlights in my hair contrast with the dark purple of my dress, that the heels I have are too low, and also managed to convince me to take a pre-game shot with her. All of which have me absolutely frazzled.
I just manage to tie my hair up with a black ribbon, letting the curls hang delicately against the back of my neck when she knocks on the bathroom door.
“Hey, babe, your man is here. Me and Fred are heading to get a drink at the Bathtub Gin. Unless you just want to join us at the gala in your birthday suit, you better finish getting ready.”
My heart beats a staccato rhythm. “First of all, not joining you naked. Second, my man is where, exactly?”
“I parked him in your room for easy pick up.”
Oh God. The shame that filters through my body is like a unicorn that just threw up a box of crayons.
“Thanks,” I hiss. “Have a good time with your daddy.”
“Have a good time with yours, cousin dearest. He’s a snack and a half.”
I hate her. I really hate her.
It takes me another five minutes just to finish my mascara and I’ve kept Ben waiting long enough. Plus, he’s alone in my room with my things. Not that I really think he’s going to judge me, but he might judge the piles of clean, and questionably clean, clothes on my bed and floor, the half-finished knitted scarf sticking out of my nightstand, all eight water glasses of varying levels dotted in any place with a steady flat surface, and all of the other random shit spilling out of my closet.
Maybe once I’m dressed, I’ll feel more motivated to slather some foundation on. I’m tempted to just throw the lipstick on and say finite. But the thought of standing next to Cora while she’s so done up and flawless makes me wither. It makes me wither even if I had a full face of makeup.
Peering around the doorframe, I find Ben sitting on the side of my bed in just about the only free spot available due to all the clothes I’ve got scattered about. He’s looking at his phone, but his gaze snaps up when the floor creaks underneath my feet. As I step through the doorway, he doesn’t just eat me up, he swallows—his eyes sweeping up the bare length of my legs in what feels like slow motion, over my shoulders, only stopping to focus on my lip between my teeth. My grip on the closure of the towel tightens.
He pockets his phone inside the jacket of his suit and crooks a finger at me.
I take a step forward.
The hard press of his jaw jumps before he clears his throat. “Come here.”
I take only one more step.
“Please.”
I cross to him in the remaining three, stepping between his knees that he widens and his fingers ghost along the backs of my thighs just below the fabrics edge. He tilts his head back, throat bobbing as his lips part. I can’t help it when I gather the knot of the dark purple tie and tug him forward until his chin brushes over top of the towel at my chest.
“Emmeline, do you want to go to this thing or not?” he asks, voice dropping low and husky as my skin heats up. “Because you need to get dressed before I pop a boner or we’re not gonna go anywhere until I’ve had my fill of you.”
At this point, I want to go as much as I want to stay.
My grip on his tie relaxes, and I smooth my hand down the satin more slowly than need be. His gaze doesn’t waver, but his fingers inch beneath my towel. The graze on the curve of my ass is feather light, but it ignites a spark that might consume me whole.
“Maybe you shouldn’t watch this part then,” I offer, the twitch of my lips ruining the sultry stoicism I’m going for. I untuck the knot of the towel, dragging it from my body to let it float to the floor.
Ben’s gaze remains on my face and I’m mildly impressed, but he tenses and makes a desperate noise in his throat when I lean forward over his shoulder to skim up the lace panties from where they’re laid out next to my dress.
“Help me put these on, please.”
He’s awfully restrained when he takes them, stretching the lace and holding them low.
I shuffle back only to lift a leg and step into them one foot at a time. He drags them up my legs until he has them over my hips, his palms smoothing the fabric down over my ass before grabbing a handful in each hand, yanking me forward until his face is nearly buried between my breasts.
“Fuck. You’re making this difficult.”
“Sorry, am I making it hard for you?”
Squeezing me closer, his head tips up and his eyes are dark and full of want. The edges of his cheeks are getting flushed with color beneath the tight press of his collar.
“Are you going to be able to make it through the night without picturing me like this? Wearing only the panties you bought for me, with me between your legs?”
“No,” he chokes out, sending a thrill skittering down my spine. “But I didn’t buy those panties for you to wear. Only for you to make them dirty.”
I blink. “What?”
The look on his face turns sharp, eyes hooded as he licks his lip and his tongue, barely brushing my pointed nipple.
My spine snaps straight just as he takes his tie in hand and yanks it loose, unthreading the fabric from the collar.
“Turn around,” he commands. The way his voice wraps around me is sinful delight.
My heart and stomach do a matching summersault. “What are we doing? I thought we didn’t have time for this.”
“Oh, that’s where you’re wrong, baby. I told you five-thirty to make you think we needed to be there by six, but the event doesn’t start until seven”—this cocksucking motherfucker—“and most guests don’t even show up until at least seven-thirty.”
Ben gathers my wrists together right as I give him my back and it isn’t until he starts to wind the fabric of his tie around them that I start to breathe heavily.
“Some would call that manipulation.”
He yanks hard on the tie’s ends and a whine loosens from my throat. “Some would also say you have time blindness, and I’m simply helping so that we’re not late to an event where all eyes are on you when we walk in.” He relaxes the fabric first before knotting it off.
As much as that makes me want to complain, I don’t have any defense. Because everyone’s attention on me is the last thing I want. Especially at an event like this.
“You’re still an asshole.”
“Call me whatever you like, but you’ll still say please when I tell you to.” His touch flutters over my lower back and up the center of my spine to tug on one of the tight curls in my ponytail. I’m so sure he’s going to bend me over, but his words surprise me. “Get on your knees.”
“Yes, sir,” I say, but it’s with a little more bite than sugar.
“There’s my good girl.” His voice rumbles, and I squirm as I struggle to lower to my knees. He guides me down with a gentle hand. “I knew you were still in there.”
“Where did you learn to tie knots like this?” I test the limits of the tie, and it’s tight but not constricting.
“Sailing. A sort of pretentious hobby to a boy raised in the country whose favorite pastime used to be mudding. But certain aspects come in handy for things like this.”
He circles to my front, looking down over the way my chest pushes out. I pull in a ragged breath as his hands drop to unbuckle his belt.
Resting back on my heels, I watch as he pulls down his zipper with a slow glide and my mouth is already watering. I know he’s about to have me choke on his cock and nothing else in this world matters. Doesn’t even remotely come close.
His hand slips beneath his boxers, and I lick my lips. But he pauses, stroking his cock beneath the fabric only once. “Stay right here, just like that for me, baby.”
I nod, even as my blood pounds in my ears when he disappears into the hallway, but he’s back in only a few seconds.
Ben wiggles the tube of dark plum lipstick I set on the bathroom counter in preparation for tonight. “I want those lips stained this color when you suck me down. I want it on my skin for the rest of the night.”
He crouches in front of me, and I can’t help but take in a deep inhale when his cologne swirls around my brain like ambrosia. His lip tips up in the corner, eyes deep and assessing as they sweep my face before narrowing on my mouth.
“And what’s the color that makes everything stop?”
“Red,” I breathe.
“Good,” he answers, his breath fanning over my face. “Stay nice and still for me.”
He grasps my chin, dragging the tip of the lipstick over my bottom lip, and I’m so compelled to squirm, to shift my hips, to clench my thighs together because this is driving me wild. My skin burns beneath his touch, his gaze, and I’m consumed with the way his attention is so focused on my mouth as he traces the shape of my Cupid’s bow. It’s a wonder steam isn’t wafting off my skin with the way my blood is simmering with lust.
“Pretty girl,” Ben murmurs, thumb swiping the corner of my mouth before he caps the lipstick and tucks it into my hand, closing my fingers around the tube. “Drop this to the floor if you can’t say red.”
His hands ghost around my side and the tug on my nipple is quick, sharp. I lurch forward to follow his touch as he pulls on the captive ring and doesn’t let go.
“Ben,” I plead, leaning forward to ease the pressure.
“Always something new for me to admire. Makes me think I should have brought a leash after all. Would you sit pretty at my feet?” he asks, switching to my other nipple, rubbing his thumb over and over in a circle that jolts through my body. “Would you crawl for me if I asked?”
I grit my teeth as he pinches and tugs again, heat rising high in my chest.
“Would you?” he repeats.
“If you ask me nicely, maybe.”
The way his eyes lower and he bites his lip makes me want to bite it even harder.
“As much as I want to see you with your tits swaying and ass jiggling as you crawl to me, I wouldn’t be able to stop until I fucked you.” His fingers slip down my stomach and trace down the seam of my pussy overtop the panties. “And I want to save that for later.”
“Later?”
The pad of his thumb presses between the folds of my pussy and applies light pressure to my clit and I suck in a breath. My fingers flex and my wrists tug against the bindings of the tie.
“You’ll see.” Ben lays a kiss on my jaw, teeth nipping at my skin.
“Stop,” I gasp. “I don’t want to have to cover that up.”
“You’re going to fix your makeup after this, anyway, aren’t you?”
“After what?” I huff. “You haven’t done anything yet.”
He grips my face with the entirety of his hand, palm cradling my cheek as he pushes my head back to expose my throat, making me sit up off my heels. His teeth nip and bite at the place just under my chin, and he sucks a bruise into the skin just to spite me.
“Open your mouth”—he stands, readjusting his suit jacket and I almost think he’s going to remove it—“and stick out your tongue.”
I watch, breath tight in my chest as he draws his cock out of his pants. He strokes the length twice, squeezing the tip and gathering the glossy precum between his fingers. He takes a step forward, until the toes of his dress shoes touch my knees.
“Say please,” he commands.
“Please.” I stick my tongue out flat again, looking up at him.
I don’t even have the wherewithal to imagine what this scene looks like from his view above me as he swipes the liquid of his precum over my tongue, tangy and musky. Then he leans down just a bit and spits on my tongue.
A whine sounds from my throat because holy fuck.
He leans down to grip my jaw, holding my mouth open. “Make my cock nice and wet so I can fuck this tight throat.”
My core clenches tight and heat blooms further, faster, under my skin, and when I squeeze my thighs to abate the pulse of my clit I can feel how wet my panties are.
Ben pats my cheek with the palm of his hand, wet fingers gliding over my cheekbone as he pulls away. It sends a jolt down my spine and my wrists flex, fingers curling tight as I rock my hips forward and back just as he grabs hold of his length.
My tongue cradles the underside of his cock as he lays it on my tongue, and my restlessness turns to enthusiasm. I fucking love to suck dick, and I’ve never wanted to worship someone more than right now.
Without any other ounce of instruction or prompting, I surge forward and take him into my mouth for a quick plunge before pulling back to swirl my tongue around the crown, wetting him with the saliva and precum pooled on my tongue.
“That’s it—Jesus fucking Christ,” he groans. The desperate lilt hits deep in my groin where every muscle pulls tight, and I’m not sure how I’m going to make it through this in one piece. “Your hot little mouth is so much better than I could have imagined.”
His hand coasts along the top of my head, over my slicked back ponytail, and I pop off his cock to glare up at him through my lashes.
“You ruin my makeup or my hair, there isn’t time to fix both.”
“Makeup.”
Ben grips my head just enough to direct me back to his cock. It twitches against my lips before I open wide and stick out my tongue to lick up the underside, sucking on the flare of his crown. My eyes flutter as I watch the bob of his throat, the tight press of his teeth and jaw as his nostrils flare.
“Don’t let this go to your head”—I take a breath, hollowing my cheeks around the tip of his cock and sucking hard—“but you have the biggest dick I’ve ever sucked.”
He pulls me forward, hips rocking gently to force more of his length into my mouth, breaching the back of my throat. I tuck my thumbs into my fists in an effort to help my gag reflex settle.
“Oh, I’m definitely letting that go to my head.”
My eyes roll, and he fucking growls at me; I feel it all the way down to the way my pussy clenches like a desperate whore.
“Keep those gorgeous eyes on me, little bird.” He lets out a huff, fingers threatening to slide into my scalp, but he relaxes his grip enough that he doesn’t actually dig in. “I want you to watch the way you make me fall apart as you choke on my cock.”
A surge of satisfaction winds through my chest, and I inhale the deep, masculine scent of Ben’s skin as I push forward until my nose is nuzzling the hairs above his cock and my lips are stretched wide around him.
My jaw already hurts, but I relax around him and watch the way he looks down at me like I’m some otherworldly being as I choke on his cock, eyes watering as I force a swallow. My throat squeezes him where he’s lodged there like it’s his new home and he’s never moving out.
“Fuuuck, Emmeline—”
My name sounds so fucking good falling from his lips in a breathy moan that makes my pussy clench again.
I pull back, bobbing on his cock as I hollow my cheeks, letting his hips chase the tease of my tongue. Laving at his slit, I suck down the taste of his precum welling up over and over until he’s panting above me and his hips are rocking erratically.
Pulling back just when he begins to tighten his fingers against my scalp, I lick my lips as I gaze up at him. “Do I look like a good little slut with your cock in my mouth?”
I press my lips together to kiss the head of his cock before rubbing my chin and cheek all over the shiny and red flushed head. Saliva and precum glosses over my skin, trailing from him to me, and I lap up the string of it.
“You’re so fucking”—his hand tightens on the top of my head and he pulls in a deep breath, forcing me down on his cock again until he hits fast and hard at the back of my throat. He gentles when I gag—“good.”
And I hear the word he doesn’t say, and for once, my skin doesn’t crawl at the thought.
“You want me to blow down your tight little throat already?”
I hum around his cock in affirmation and it makes him buck even further into my mouth, my eyes watering as he batters my throat with each pump of his hips. My cheeks burn beneath the slide of hot tears and my thighs squeeze tight together, a shudder wracking my spine as I lose myself in the bob of his cock in and out of my mouth.
Ben watches, eyes heavy lidded with desire, shoulders tense and tight as he widens his stance so he can fuck my face exactly the way he wants. And I’m fucking burning for the way he’s flushed from the collar up, highlighting the spread of freckles across the bridge of his nose.
I’m drowning in him, but I want more.
I release his cock with a wet pop, panting to drag in a breath in between words I hope aren’t as slurred as they sound in my ears. “Come for me. Down my throat—fucking fill me up so you’re all I can taste the rest of the night.”
A thrill runs down the back of my neck as he licks his lips.
“Are you that desperate for me to feed you my cum?”
“Yes,” I groan. “Please. I want it so much.” I’m almost shaking, shoulders pulled in tight as my wrists flex and my hips rock to find any friction between the clench of my thighs.
He nudges my lips and I open wide, tongue swirling around the head of his cock until I taste the steady stream of his precum on my tongue.
“And how wet is your pussy, baby? Is it gulping for my cock, desperate to be filled even when you’re begging to taste me?”
Fucking yes.
My cunt clenches at his words like he commanded it.
“So fucking wet and empty. I’m a slut for your cock, for you—your greedy little whore. I’ll never deserve what you deign to give me.”
And I’ll always want more.
Even with that little slip of my insecurities, I bat my eyelashes at Ben. They’re wet and stinging as his cock hits the back of my throat, and I swallow around him, enjoying the way his jaw falls slack, his eyes glazing even further.
He pumps his hips, hand pushing my head over his cock. He holds me still while he fucks into my throat.
“You’re worth more than my fucking life,” Ben moans, shaking as he slams his cock into my mouth while I do my best to suck him down without grazing him with my teeth. Spit runs down my chin and I gag, but he only goes harder, deeper. I feel him in my stomach even before he comes. “You deserve everything in this world. And you’ll fucking take it like the good little girl you are.”
This back and forth of praise and degradation has me throbbing, clit pulsing as my eyes flutter. I’m so fucking close to the edge that if he touches me at all, then I’m going to shatter.
“Swallow my cum, Emmeline.”
He swells between the press of my lips, and I suck hard on the length of his cock as I breathe him in. When his cum spills down my throat, it’s bitter on the back of my tongue but so uniquely him that I know I’m going to crave the taste. Like coffee on a slow day, I lap him up with reverence.
“You taste delicious. I want your cum to flood my pussy every chance we get, but right now, I want to suck your cock until my throat remembers the shape of you even when you’re gone.”
Ben tucks his softening cock away, and I glance down to see the imprint of my lipstick around the base before it disappears behind his zipper. His fingers tip my chin back up, dragging my attention to the way he licks his lips, bitten and swollen. I want to kiss him until he tastes himself on my tongue.
“Don’t miss me when I’m still here, or you won’t enjoy the present. And take what you deserve with a fucking smile on that beautiful face.”
His words make me ache all over, pussy fluttering around nothing, and I’m certain that no amount of orgasms I give myself could solve this, at least not in the time that I have. This event is already designed to tug on every one of my fraying nerves, and now I’m going to be a world away, dreaming of all the ways I want Ben to fuck me.
It’s going to be a long night.