Grounded (Up in the Air #3)(8)

He moved into me, pressing his heavy, trouser-clad erection flush into my sex and leaning down heavily against my back. He breathed his next words into my ear. "Open your eyes."

I did, getting only a sideways view of the desk that I was sprawled against, since James was on my back. He laid a heavy black and blue object there. I couldn't understand what I was seeing at first.

It looked almost like a bouquet of flowers, yet not …

Heavy, dyed leather was shaped beautifully into blue roses on the ends of thick black leather tails.

I licked my lips, suddenly more nervous and scared. There were a dozen of the ominous looking buds.

James brought the stiff leather handle of the torture device up to my cheek, and I watched those heavy flowers drag across the desk as the flogger moved. He traced my cheek.

"The horse-hair flogger was a warm-up," he repeated, "and what that means is that I have plans for you, Bianca, and the pain hasn't even begun."

I took unsteady breaths, then stiffened as I heard the unmistakable sound of a zipper.

"Do the roses scare you?" he asked softly, his voice almost taunting. He was gripping my thighs, pulling my legs apart from behind as he shifted me on the desk.

"Yes," I said breathlessly.

"I'll tell you what," he began, thrusting hard inside of me even as he spoke. I whimpered, shocked at the unexpected penetration. "If you can manage not to come while I take the edge off, I'll spare you the roses. For today." As he spoke, he was pulling out of me, dragging that perfect cock along every wonderful nerve inside of me.

He pulled completely out before plunging in again, a slow, heavy stroke that made my toes curl.

"To make it fair, I'll make it quick," he said, a cold smile in his voice. He pulled out and ground into me again, then began to pound in earnest.

It was painfully hard, his thick length beating into me, working me over from the inside out. Even his cock was dominant and sadistic today.

One of his hands gripped my inner thigh so hard that I knew I would bruise, the other hand on my back, pinning me firmly to the desk.

He fucked me as he rarely fucked me, to bring himself to a quick release.

When he came inside of me, a loud, raw noise escaped his throat, the sound muffled, as though he couldn't help it. That noise brought me over the edge. I came with a whimper even as he jerked inside of me, rubbing out the last of his own savage release. 

He didn't linger, pulling out of me as I was still clenching around him. I felt warm liquid still spurting from his stiff length as he leaned against my ass.

He tugged me back until my feet were touching the ground. I had forgotten that I was even wearing heels until they touched the ground again unsteadily.

He tugged my dress higher, then pulled me up by the shoulders. "Arms up," he murmured when I was standing again.

I did.

He pulled my dress over my head. I turned my head to watch him as he draped it carefully over his office chair.

He studied me for a moment. "Step out of your shoes."

I wobbled out of them as steadily as I could manage.

James reached for me, hooking a finger into the hoop at my neck, his other hand gripping a handful of my hair. He tugged me across the room.

He brought me to one of the doors that led somewhere other than the reception area. I hadn't checked to see where it led, but James quickly showed me.

He pulled me into a small bedroom with a big window. I gasped when I saw the bed.

It took up nearly the entire space, large enough to fit into one of the colossal bedrooms in his homes. It had a latticed top, with a daunting collection of restraints already arrayed.

"Your work fuck-pad?" I asked him, not hiding the accusation in my voice. He'd been a slut, I got that, but I was sick of seeing the evidence of it literally everywhere we went.

"It's new. Before it was just a bed that I only slept in alone. If you want any more answers, you'll be getting them later. Get on the bed."

I scrambled onto the bed, moving to the center. I started to kneel.

"Stand up," he barked.

I obeyed.

He gripped my wrist in his hand, raising it high but pulled out from my body. He tugged one of the black restraints from the latticed top of the bed. I was surprised to realize that it was made of rubber. It was like a soft tube, comfortable and stretchy. He wrapped it around my wrist several times until it pulled very tight. He tied it, then twisted my hand around until I was gripping it. He repeated the motion on my other hand, my arms held wide apart when he'd finished. I thought it was ominous that he'd chosen to use something so comfortable to restrain me. It told me something about those roses, though …

He positioned my feet, making me comfortable. I was trembling as he moved away from the bed.