Just One Night, Part 2_ Exposed(45)

“Oh God!”

“That’s not an answer. How close are you?”

I try to look away again but again his fingers slip under my chin. “Answer me.”

“I’m very . . . very close . . . to . . .”

My voice gives out. I can feel the orgasm that sits on the verge of bursting through me, but just then Robert firmly but carefully grasps my hand, stills it, and then pulls it away from my body.

“Not yet,” he says.

My eyes widen in surprise. The shock of being denied when I’m so close is too much. Suddenly I don’t care about the consequence of my submission. I don’t care that he has taken command of me without having to fight me. I certainly don’t care about how late I’m going to be for work. I need the satisfaction my fingers had promised. I try to move my hand back between my thighs but his hold is too strong.

“Please,” I gasp.

“Please what, Kasie?”

I flush, my cheeks red with frustration and uncontainable longing. “Please let me come.”

He smiles and kisses my forehead protectively. “Don’t move; you’re not allowed to touch yourself, not right now. Just wait.”

He stands and again for reasons I’m not clear on I obey despite a growing desperation.

Slowly he takes off his shirt, then his pants. I watch him as I struggle to stay still. My body is on fire.

Finally he exposes his erection to me. I’m frantic to get it inside me, but instead he pulls me up so that I’m sitting back on my heels. He pulls my knees apart enough so he can see me completely and then pets my hair. “I know what you want. You want me to take you on this bed. You’re desperate to come. But the blowjob will be first, Kasie. Understand?”

Again I nod and he smiles before gently pressing my head forward. I wrap my lips around him, my hand slides over the base of his cock as my tongue finds the veins and ridges, toying with the tip before taking more of him in my mouth. I hear him moan and the sound encourages me, electrifies me. I move back and forth, preparing him, hoping that my success will be rewarded with something even better.

Again he moans and then quickly pulls my head away. “Now,” he says. And then he pushes me back on the bed and in an instant he gives me what I crave. He’s inside of me, answering my body’s pleas for release. My orgasm comes swiftly, tearing through my body like a tornado, making the room spin and my world buckle. He continues to move inside of me, grinding, biting my neck. I try to hold on to him but he holds my arms down and his strength is insurmountable.

“No one will touch you,” he says, his voice so low I have to struggle to hear him. “No one but me.”

He thrusts again and I cry out. He overwhelms me, pounding into me as I thrash beneath him.

Yes, this is a dangerous man. Dangerous because his power comes from my own desire and his power over me is increasing with time and familiarity. I can fight Dave, I can fight Asha.

But Robert Dade?

I stare up into his eyes. Can he read my thoughts? That quiet but knowing smile suggests it. I wrap my legs around his waist; his mouth moves down to my ear. “Kasie,” he gasps.

He pulls out, flips me over, and enters me again. Again I cry out, my breasts crushed against the firm mattress. I grab on to the wooden bars of the headrest like a convict railing for release.

Again his mouth is by my ear as he pushes inside me again and again. “No one but me,” he says again, his voice rasping as he struggles for a last moment of control. But as I push my hips back against him I know that his control is almost gone.

“Now,” he groans and in that moment we come together. The sensation is so forceful and primal, it feels almost perilous.

I feel the weight of his chest on top of me as he finally collapses; I close my eyes and try to bring myself back to earth.

I might have been safer at Dave’s.





CHAPTER 16





I’M ALMOST AN hour late for work. Barbara looks at me, surprised as I stride past her. I had forgotten to call to warn her of my delayed arrival, not something I’ve ever done before. But it’s all right. I’m composed now. The hypnotic events of the morning have passed. By the time we had parted ways, Robert’s voice has adopted his normal low and casually confident tone.

But as I sit at my desk, mulling through the contents of my inbox, a nagging sensation of worry distracts me. I lost myself earlier, I gave myself to him, my body, my will. . . . The angel on my shoulder, long neglected and ignored, raises her voice, urges me to run. Prays that I’ll listen just this once.

But I can’t run from Robert. Not now, not yet. Tom was right: it’s not what I want. Obviously my relationship benefits the firm, my career, and so on, but as far as I’m concerned that’s all beside the point. I can’t run from Robert because I don’t want to. I just don’t have the necessary will to make my legs move.