27. Ruby
My drunken dress order from two nights ago came yesterday, but I was too wasted to try them on. Today I felt way better, and after a long shower, I wanted to give Sam a little show, presenting him the sundresses I got only for him. No need to lie.
But I couldn’t find him at first, at least not in his room. A nagging voice in the back of my head told me he just left and my instincts told me to check the cameras. With any other bodyguard, I would have been glad if they left, but with Sam, it’s different.
Everything is different with him and I’m not proud about the fact that I’d keep him in this house against his will forever if I had the bodily strength to do it.
As I swiped through the cameras, the open door of my father’s office caught my eye. That was weird, especially as I remembered how I saw Sam crouching in front of this very door the first week he worked here.
The door to the office is always locked. I have a key, but I don’t bother using it. There’s nothing of interest to me in there, and I’d probably just mess it up out of spite.
For a second I wondered if my father came back home, but his car wasn’t standing in the driveway.
Another explanation could have been a burglar who, coincidentally, also overpowered Samuel, which was kind of unrealistic.
But I have to admit that Samuel looked at me like a surprised burglar when I walked in on him as he looked through the drawers.
His reasoning for being in there was interesting, to say the least, but before I could instigate further, he had his mouth on me. And if I’m being honest, I don’t give a shit.
Maybe he’s just horribly nosy.
Let people have hobbies, Ruby.
I look at him,my breath still heavy as I come down from the high of my orgasm. He unbuttons his pants and his cock springs free as he pulls down his boxers. Slowly, he slides it over my wet pussy, obviously enjoying how I squirm whenever he drags it over my still oversensitive clit.
“Finally,” I breathe out as he lines himself up with my hole. His cock twitches, not adding up with the way he glares at me. His eyes darken as he grabs my dress, bunching the fabric up in his hand.
“Just the tip,” he says as he pushes inside agonizingly slow.
I clench around him, desperately needing more as I try to scoot closer to him to force him deeper. He hisses, pulling back.
“Don’t do that to me, Sam. Please fuck me properly. Please.” My voice sounds so desperate, as if I’d die if he’s not pounding into me in the next few seconds, and a part of me really feels as if this is a valid possibility.
I move my hips again and suddenly both of his hands are on my dress. He rips the fabric apart as if it’s a piece of paper before he looks down at my exposed tits, seemingly satisfied with his work. As I want to protest, he grips my body with an almost painful force.
“Don’t speak. Don’t move,” he demands. “You take what I give you like a well-behaved slut or you get nothing at all, understand?”
I nod, feeling how my pussy gets wetter with every word that leaves his mouth. He feels it too, judging by the way his jaw clenches. His cock twitches and I wonder if he’s trying to punish me or himself by holding back like that.
He breathes in deeply as he lets one hand slide up to my neck, trusting me enough not to pin me down so harshly anymore. With the other one, he picks up the bottle of whiskey. The bottle cap lands on the floor, joining the cigars that roll around down there.
“Open your mouth,” he says, emphasizing it with a soft squeeze on my neck. At some point today, I stopped acting up.
Maybe it’s because I’m too horny, or because behaving actually heightens my chances of getting fucked, but whatever it is, it causes me to open my mouth.
He takes a swig of whiskey before he pulls me up towards him. His hand leaves my throat and wanders to the back of my head instead, grabbing a fistful of hair. It hurts in a way that makes my eyes water with pleasure, forcing me to tilt my head back.
Sam towers over me, the look in his eyes more predator than man.
Before I realize what he’s doing, the taste of whiskey hits my tongue.
Fuck.
It leaves a burning feeling in its wake as it runs down my throat and at that moment I decide that “getting it spit in my mouth” is the only way I’m going to consume whiskey from now on.
He groans as I swallow, his cock pulsing again, and I wish I knew how long he’s going to keep up his just-the-tip act.
A drop of whiskey runs down my chin and Sam is quick to lap it up, his mouth finding mine just a moment later. His tongue slips into my mouth and I can taste myself mixed with the alcohol as he presses my head closer to him.
It’s not even a proper kiss, more desperate, sloppy, open-mouthed attempts at one and he growls as my tongue touches his.
“I’ll fucking ruin you for every other man,” he whispers against my lips as he slams his cock inside of me in one brutal motion. If this is what heaven feels like, I’m ready to die right now.
He thrusts into me, but he seems to be unhappy with something.
“Turn around for me, darling,” he says as he pulls out. The five seconds this takes me are apparently too long for him because he grabs my hips, turns me around, and pushes me back down on the desk.
He presses my chest down, his fingers digging into my ass as he spreads me apart. His fingertips dance over my asshole and a second later, he spits down on it, spreading the wetness with his fingers.
I try to scramble away, but there’s nowhere for me to go.
“Told you that ass is mine too,” he says and I whimper as he presses the pad of his thumb against my hole. “But don’t worry, I’ll just wreck your perfect cunt today.”
His cock slides back inside of me and the different angle allows him to go so much deeper. So deep that I’m pretty sure I’d feel his cock if I put my hand on my lower belly.
For the first time today, or probably in my whole life, I’m thankful for this damn desk. Any other piece of furniture would dance through the room with the force Sam slams into me. Either that or it would immediately break down.
“God, I should have fucked you sooner,” he groans behind me.
A triumphant grin spreads across my face as I try to force out words in between his thrusts.
“Told you so.”
“Naughty girl, I said no speaking.”
His palm comes down on my ass, so hard that it makes me wince in pleasure. Wincing still seems to be too close to talking for him, because the next thing I know, he shoves two fingers into my mouth.
I’m not proud about the fact that I start sucking on them like it’s a fucking reflex while his thrusts get harder.
“Such a good girl.” I don’t need to see his face to know there’s a smirk on his lips. “Only nice and obedient when your holes are filled, am I right?”
I cry out around his fingers and he rewards me with a particularly deep thrust that has me seeing stars.
His free hand rests on the small of my back, softly stroking over my skin. It’s a stark contrast to the aggression he’s fucking me with, and it makes my head spin.
But before I could come, or psychoanalyze the way he’s fucking me further, he slips out of me once again. He grabs my waist, holding me as if I’m a weightless doll as he turns me around.
I wrap my legs around his body, seconds before he shoves me against the nearest wall, his hand at the back of my head to keep me from hitting it as we come to a halt right between the two big windows on the side of the room.
His hand leaves my head and wraps around his cock. He adjusts his position, pressing in with a low groan. Fucking slow, once again, and the new position allows the both of us to watch how his cock slides in and out of me with every thrust as his pace quickens.
“I wish you could see yourself right now, darling,” he groans, his pupils so blown that his eyes look almost black. “A perfect, mindless little slut for my cock. You were fucking made for me, Ruby.”
He pants the last words, leaning in before his lips clash against mine in a rough kiss that is too much tongue, too much teeth, but just perfect in a way.
The realization that he can hold me up with one hand, with goddamn ease, while relentlessly fucking me, is almost enough to send me over the edge again.
His thumb circles over my clit while he rams into me, and my body starts to tense up. I suspect he made it his mission to keep me from leaving this room on my own two feet.
He ends the kiss and lets his mouth trail to the side of my neck instead. His breath feels like fire against my skin, his voice low and gravelly as he speaks.
“Tell me you’re mine, Ruby. Tell me who you fucking belong to.”
His teeth pierce through the sensitive skin of my neck, hard enough to leave a mark for days.
If I’m lucky.
“Fuck—I’m, I’m yours,” I cry out as my climax washes over me. My pussy tightens around him and if I could form a proper sentence, I would tell him to slow down for a second, but instead, he fucks me ever harder through my orgasm.
Soon, his movements get sloppier, almost feral as he pounds into me, desperately chasing his own release.
He must have fucked the last bit of sanity out of me because the words I love you threaten to spill out of my mouth as I come down from my high.
Thank God that he’s still fucking me with a brutality that has me unable to speak. His cock pulsates inside of me as he fills me up, distracting me from the fact that I was just a second short of confessing my love to my goddamn bodyguard.
The very bodyguard that I just wanted to provoke.
The one I just wanted to bring to snap.
And damn, did he snap.
He’s still holding me up, his head resting against mine as we both get back to our senses.
The room looks like a battlefield. Cigars roll over the floor, and the desk is a complete mess. As I let my gaze wander, I see ceramic shards lying to our left and I can’t help but laugh as I realize we ruined the vase that I despised since my father bought it.
Samuel groans as my pussy clenches around his cock, dragging my focus back to him.
“Sorry for ruining your dress,” he says as he presses a kiss to my exposed chest. He carries me out of the office and up the stairs until we reach my bathroom. Only when we’re standing in my shower, he lets me down, his cock sliding out of me.
“It was new, by the way,” I say as he pulls the half-torn piece of clothing off of me.
“And it looked wonderful on you, darling. Too pretty, I just had to rip it off,” he says as he turns the shower on and gets out of his own clothes.
He steps into the shower right behind me, his huge body pressed flush against mine. It feels good, better than it should. But I’m afraid I’m already in too deep.
I can’t even look at him and it’s not because I’m afraid that I’ll get shampoo in my eyes if I do.
There’s too much going on in my head, the nagging voice that asks why he really was in my father’s office so horribly loud that not even the sounds of the shower can drown it out.
The problem isn’t someone invading his privacy, but that too many things about Samuel’s behavior just don’t add up.
There’s still the possibility that somebody who has a problem with my father sent him here, but wouldn’t he, I don’t know, have abducted or killed me by now?
Like I said, it doesn’t add up.
Nonetheless, I decide to let the topic rest for now. Being naked in the shower after getting half of your soul fucked out of you isn’t the right place or the right time for a discussion like this.
Deep down, I know that there isn’t a right time to talk about this at all.