Chief of Perversion_a power broker novel Page 6

  Spreading his legs, he unbuckles his belt and unfastens his pants. “Good. Then get your ass over here. I want you on your knees and sucking my cock.”

  I do him one better by sliding to the floor and crawling to him on my hands and knees. The grin on his face is worth being pro-active and putting aside a little pride.

  Once I’m settled between his legs, I reach for his cock and lean in, taking a long swipe of the head with the flat of my tongue.

  His hand tangles in my hair and pushes my head forward. “Hands behind your back. It’s not just your pleasure I control.”

  I open my throat and revel in the feeling of his cock sliding deep—this time without a condom. He pulls my head up and then pushes it down until my nose is touching his belly. I swallow against his cock, and his low groan encourages me to do it again. He pulls me off him again and allows me to catch a breath or two before thrusting his hips forward, and I swallow against him. He starts to speed up his thrusts, and it gets to the point where all I can do is open my myself to him while he uses me. He’s in complete control and I love it.

  “I’m close, and I expect you to swallow.”

  He pushes my head down hard, and his hips make a few short jerky thrusts before his come starts pulsing down my throat. I do my best to keep up.

  When he’s done, he pulls my head off his cock. “That’s taken the edge off. Now it’s time to play.”

  18

  Heath

  “On the bed, kneeling face down on the mattress with your ass high in the air and legs spread wide. I want an unobstructed view.”

  Seeing her there on my bed with her pussy glistening and puffy sends blood surging back into my cock. I want to fuck her senseless, but first, I need to punish her for every infraction she’s perpetrated—real or perceived.

  She squirms slightly, almost taunting me as the leather hisses through my belt loops. I fold my belt in half and toss it on the bed in front of her face. I want her to get a good look at it, because by the time I’m finished, I want her to remember exactly how it feels every time she sees or smells leather.

  “Georgia, do you trust me?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m going to hurt you. But I promise, for every hurt, there will be a reward.” Licking my lips, I gaze longingly at the wet pussy I’m dying to feast on. I slide first one finger, then two, deep inside her slippery heat, then swiftly removing them, making her moan. I suck her juices from my fingers, then insert them again. This time when I pull them out, I push them into Georgia’s mouth. “Suck them clean. See how good you taste?” Nodding, she sucks hard on my fingers and lets out another little moan that gets my dick all the way hard.

  I pull my hand away and find myself somewhat pleased at her little whine of frustration.

  “Patience, Georgia. I’m only just getting started.”

  As I rub my hands over her gorgeous ass, she gives a slight wiggle, earning a hard slap on each cheek. “Don’t move or I’ll pull out the restraints and have you trussed up tighter than a Sunday chicken.”

  She nods, and I find that unacceptable. “You’ll use your words and acknowledge when I say something. Yes, Heath is rarely the wrong thing to say.”

  “Yes, Heath.”

  “Good girl.” It’s ridiculous how amazing using those words on her makes me feel. I despise her, and my lizard brain is convinced calling her all the names she asked me not to would feel even better. But lizard brain doesn’t get a vote. No matter how I feel about her, I would never actually do anything that could harm her physically or emotionally.

  I slap my hand all over her ass, firm and fast. I want it a nice rosy red before I take the belt to her.

  She lets out a quiet moan, and I slap her harder. “You like that, do you, Georgia?”

  “Yes, Heath.” It comes out on a moan, and I swear it’s almost enough to make me come.

  “Do you want it harder with my hand or my belt?”

  “Your belt.”

  “How do you ask?”

  “May I have your belt, please, Heath?”

  “Good girl.” As I reach for the belt, I slide my fingers into her pussy. “You really do like this, don’t you?”

  “Yes, Heath.”

  With the belt still folded in half, I wind up and place the first blow on that sensitive place where her ass meets her thighs—the sit spot. She yelps and her feet flutter kick against the mattress.

  I lay three more on top of the first, each one a little harder than the last. In between each strike, I give her a moment react and fully appreciate how the pain morphs from sting to heat. I put the next one in the middle of her ass, then rhythmically alternate between her sit spot and the area below the fullest part of her ass until the entire lower half of her ass is a fiery red with her sit spot being a few shades angrier. I want her to remember this and think of me every time she parks her ass in a seat.

  I stop and slide my fingers inside her again. So nice and slippery. I pull them out and touch them to her lips. “Open.” When her lips part, I push my fingers in deep. “Suck.”

  I need to fuck her. Now.

  “Don’t move.” I strip as fast as I can, grab a condom from my nightstand, and roll it on. She may be on birth control, but my trust only goes so far, no matter how much I’d love to ride her bareback.

  Kneeling behind her, I position my cock against her entrance and grab her hips before plunging deep. She wails, and I pull back and slam home again, sending her voice up an octave. “Sing for me, Georgia,” I tell her as I slam into her again and again and again. I’m still angry at her for so many things, and I am going to wring everything from her from pain to pleasure and back again.

  The sound Georgia makes when she comes almost makes me wish I’d been watching her face. But I’ll only fuck her from behind, because I won’t confuse the issue for either of us by kissing her. Or letting her kiss me. This is hate-fucking pure and simple.

  I look over at the sleeping woman beside me. I haven’t hate-fucked her nearly enough. Jesus, at this point, I’m not sure I’ll ever get enough, but I’d sure like to try.

  I wake up the next morning with Georgia’s leg draped over mine and I’m painfully aware of my morning wood. I have an urge to kiss her awake. I squelch it fast by pinching her nipple. She whines, and I pinch it again, a bit harder. Her eyes flutter open, and she stifles a yawn with her hand.

  “Morning,” I say as my lips hover over her breast.

  “What time is it?” She asks. I bite her nipple. “Ow,” she yelps as she tries to push me away.

  “Behave. It’s seven-thirty,” I reply, then I bite her other nipple, harder.

  “Hey, you promised me pleasure with my pain.”

  “Yes, I did. But I didn’t promise it would be instant gratification. Some things are worth waiting for. Besides, I only guaranteed you one orgasm, which you got last night. Now on your knees and spread your legs nice and wide for me, like a good girl.” I demand as I reach for the lube from the nightstand drawer.

  Squeezing some into my hand, I make a fist and pump my cock into it a few times. I add more lube and pump into my fist again. When I’m satisfied I’m good and slippery, I slide my hand up and down Georgia’s crack. I’m still feeling kind of mean, so that’s as much prep as she’s going to get.

  I place the head of my cock against her tiny hole, push gently, and hold it there until she relaxes a bit and I can feel some give. Then I push again. She starts to lean forward, and I grab hold of her hip and squeeze.

  “Stay still and take it for me like a good girl.”

  “Can we not, and say we did?”

  I chuckle. “We could, but where’s the fun in that? Be happy you get lube and I’m going slow.” She’ll always get lube, no matter what, but there’s nothing wrong with a good mind fuck. Besides, going in dry is not my idea of a good time.

  The go slow part, though? Yeah, there may be a time in our future where the concept of slow might be relative.

  I press a little harder, and
I can feel the ring of muscle give a little. “Relax and let me in, Georgia. This isn’t a new thing for you.”

  “It is like this.”

  “Do you trust me?”

  She lets out a long sigh. “Yes, I trust you. God help me, I do.”

  “Remember you have a safeword if things get to be too much.” I want her to have just enough pain for an endorphin rush, but not enough for her to deny me fucking her delectable ass.

  She nods, and I finally feel her relax a little. I wrap my arm around her to keep her from getting away and push hard until just the head disappears. Then I hold perfectly still.

  She lets out a long wail and tries to crawl forward.

  “Stop,” I tell her as I hold her tight. “Give it a minute. The endorphins will kick in, and you’ll get used to me being there.”

  “It hurts.”

  “I know.” Sliding my hands up her front, I cup her breasts and tease her nipples until she starts to moan and rock back into me.

  “Feeling better now, bad girl?”

  She nods, and I slide one hand back down, dipping a finger into her sopping cunt.

  “I think my bad girl likes her anal with a side of ouch. Am I right?”

  She shakes her head. “No.”

  “Then why are you so wet?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What is it they say? Once is an accident, twice is a coincidence, and three times is a pattern. I think I’d like the opportunity to test that theory. A lot.”

  Trembling, she drops her head, and I rub her clit as I push my cock deeper.

  “You feel so good, Georgia.”

  She starts grinding against my hand and I pull back a little. I slide a finger into her pussy as I thrust my cock balls-deep into her ass.

  “Please,” she moans.

  I don’t move. “What are you asking for, bad girl?”

  “Please let me come.”

  “Oh, but this isn’t why you’re wet. You said so yourself. In fact, now we have to do it this way at least twice more to figure out if that’s true. And if it’s not…that could be considered a lie.”

  “Please, Heath. I’m close.”

  I let go of her pussy and pull all the way out of her ass. “You’re a good girl for asking, but you know you don’t get to come today.” I reposition my cock against her asshole and push my way in to the hilt. I don’t ram it in, but I’m not gentle either.

  “I wish we had all morning, because there’s nothing I’d love more right now than to bring you to the edge over and over and over again while I fuck your ass.”

  I catch sight of the clock and reality comes crashing down on me.

  I pull back until only the head is in, then drizzle lube over my entire shaft. This is going to have to be quick. I grab both Georgia’s hips and pump hard and fast. As soon as I’m ready, I pull out, slipping the condom off as I do, and mark her ass and back with spurt after spurt of my come.

  19

  Georgia

  The way Heath has left me hanging, I’d do just about anything for him, if he’d just finish what he started. Maybe even admit that the way he fucked my ass was the reason I was so wet.

  “Let’s get cleaned up. It’s getting late, and I have a meeting I need to get to.”

  I follow him into the bathroom and he turns on the shower. “Let me get it warm before you come in,” he says.

  A minute or two later, he leans out of the shower and takes my hand. “In you get,” he says as he shuffles out of the way and guides me under the spray.

  The water is just right and feels like heaven. His soapy hands glide over my back and ass, making me squirm and lean into them.

  “Behave, Georgia. As much as I would love to take you again, right here, right now, I really do have to get a move on, or I’ll be late.”

  I let out a small disappointed whine.

  “What are your plans this evening?”

  “Quiet night in.”

  Sliding his hands around my front, he cups my breasts and pinches my nipples. “I’ve got a long day and a dinner meeting, but I can make sure I’m done by nine. How about we get together to try for a coincidence?” He pulls me tight against him, and I can feel his erection growing against the small of my back.

  I should say no and walk away for good. This is wrong on so many levels, but in the last twelve hours or so, he’s made me feel good, and I want more where that came from.

  He nips at the base of my neck, and I’m lost. “Where?” I ask.

  “Here at ten.”

  “Okay.”

  We finish up in the shower, and given the state I left him in after I washed his body, I don’t feel quite so grumpy about not coming this morning. I have hopes for tonight.

  I borrow a comb and do the best I can to detangle my hair before gathering it up in what I hope looks more like an intentional messy bun than sex hair, otherwise last night’s outfit will do more than whisper walk of shame.

  The scent of fresh coffee lures me to the kitchen, where I find Heath making toast. “Want some?” he asks, pointing the toaster.

  “No, thank you. Just coffee.”

  “Milk and cream is in the fridge, sugar and sweetener are on the table,” he says, handing me a large mug full of caffeine-y goodness.

  “Black is perfect, thank you.” Taking a quick sip, I head to the table and nearly spill my coffee when my tender backside hits the wooden seat. I’m going to feel that every time I sit down.

  “Are you sure you wouldn’t like some?” Heath asks, holding out a slice of toast.

  “No, really.”

  “You shouldn’t skip breakfast, you know. It’s not healthy.”

  I don’t respond. I’ve had a perfectly lovely time, and I refuse to engage.

  Heath brings his mug and plate to the table and sits opposite me. “Just a heads up, in case you’ve lost track of time, our parents are due back from their honeymoon next week. Knowing my mom, she’s going to want a family dinner soon afterward—”

  I slam my mug down, sloshing coffee over the sides and onto the table. “Seriously? You’re bringing this up now? I gave you my fucking word. You trust me enough to bring me up to your home-away-from-home for a night of debauchery, enough to fuck my mouth bareback, but not enough to keep my word?” The chair scrapes the floor as I push to my feet. “Fuck you, Heath. You can forget tonight. You can forget ever again.”

  After grabbing my shoes and coat, I slam the door on my way out and stab the button to call the elevator.

  Moments later, Heath comes out of the suite and leans against the wall in front of me. “I’m sorry.”

  “Fuck your apology. I know exactly where I stand, and I can work with that. I meant what I said. I don’t want to see you ever again.”

  The elevator dings and a moment later, the doors open. I press the button for the lobby, and then I stab repeatedly at the one that closes the door until I’m finally alone.

  20

  Heath

  It’s been nearly a week since Georgia stormed out on me, and I’ve spent nearly every evening since in the damned hotel bar, nursing a single glass of Scotch. She’d come looking for company once before, and given how explosive our chemistry was, I thought there might be a chance she’d do it again.

  I’m just about to head out for a lunch meeting when my mother calls. “Mom, welcome home. Did you and George have a fabulous time?”

  “We did, and if you’re free for supper tonight, we’ll be happy to tell you all about it.”

  ‘If you’re free’ is my mom’s polite way of telling me to change any plans I might already have.

  “Of course I’m free, Mom. What time?”

  “Be here for six, we’ll eat at six-thirty.”

  “Looking forward to it.”

  When I arrive for dinner, I’m surprised to see an extra setting at the table. “Georgia’s coming?” I ask.

  “I don’t know,” My mom says. “I didn’t hear back from her, but it was short notice, so I thought it
best to be prepared.”

  I hold my anger in check, but it’s hard, especially when I can practically see steam shooting from George’s ears. As always, my mom is optimistic beyond reason.

  It’s not just Georgia I’m angry at, though. I was foolish for taking her at her word, for thinking she’d consider avoiding confrontation with her father reason enough to stick by it. I was foolish to think her storming out angry because she thought I didn’t trust her meant she’d keep her promise. I trusted her, and she let me down.

  “She sent me the loveliest little card while we were away. She had an urgent matter to attend to, and she thought she’d be done in plenty of time to make it to the wedding and reception and she apologized for her lack of judgement.”

  The smile on my mom’s face makes me feel ill, knowing the only thing in that card that wasn’t complete bullshit was her lack of judgement.

  “And sweet dear that she is, Georgia had a lovely bottle of 2002 Krug Clos du Mesnil waiting for us when we arrived home. Such a lovely gift.”

  “Squandering that kind of money on such frivolities and living in that dilapidated old apartment building, I can only imagine the state of her trust fund.” George mutters.

  “Don’t be a grump. We’ll cross that bridge if we come to it,” my mom retorts. “In the meantime, I think we’ll save the champagne for our first anniversary. We can have a lovely family dinner and enjoy it together.”

  Jesus, all it took was a card and bottle of fancy champagne to convince my mom that Georgia is a fucking saint and will now magically attend every family event from here to the end of time. My mom’s disappointment is going to be more profound than it was when the step-bitch skipped their wedding.

  “How was the trip?” I ask, genuinely interested, but happy to provide a distraction.