She felt twitchy, hot, unfulfilled.
She panted. Swallowed to moisten her dry mouth. “Please,” she pleaded.
“Please what?”
“Touch me again.”
When he did, her hips rose automatically. “Be still,” he commanded.
His finger delved through her curls, then unerringly circled her bud. Rather than touching her clit, he followed the curve of one of her pussy lips down, then the other one up.
She squirmed. Empty. Longing. Gradually, a sense of place and time returned to her. This was so cold, trussed up, immobile while he toyed with her, emotionless. She stared at his face, looking for some indication of his feelings.
51
Bonnie Hamre
Found none.
He showed no signs of interest in her as a female, only in her as a lab specimen.
That hurt. Humiliated her. This was awful. Demeaning. Her throat squeezed shut and she bit her lip to stop the tears welling up behind her eyelids.
“Stop,” she whispered.
Instead, he circled her bud again, butterfly touches that brought heat to her clit. It felt so good. So terrible!
“Stop,” she cried.
He flicked her clit in reprimand. Without a word, he continued arousing her with strokes, tickles and teasing. She couldn’t take any more.
Her eyelids felt heavy but she forced them open. Stared at him in disbelief. Now his face was drawn, his cheekbones pronounced and his mouth a tight grimace. If arousing her was so distasteful to him, why did he keep doing it?
What did he get out of working here? Pervert! Forcing women to submit, then playing with them like objects. Where was the satisfaction in that?
And, ohmigod! It felt so good. What he was doing to her made all her senses come alive. Made her focus solely on the little nubbin of flesh between her legs. With only one finger he had her so aroused she couldn’t see straight, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but feel. He hadn’t even touched her inside and she was so close. So close!
Nothing mattered but his finger on her clit. She clenched her muscles.
He raised his eyes to her face. Now she noted the beads of sweat on his upper lip and on his forehead. The room was warm in consideration of her nakedness, but not that warm. His breath came faster. He had to be feeling something, too, but whatever the feeling, it was lost in her own personal need.
She moaned, twisting away from his touch, lifting her hips to get closer, begging for more. Begging for release.
“Not until I tell you to come,” he reminded her. His voice was raw.
She panted, her inner muscles working like vises with nothing to clamp around.
She wanted, she wanted, oh oh oh, she wanted him! She needed him, his finger, his cock, something inside her. She needed it now!
She was desperate for him, desperate to climax. “Please, please.”
“Control it. Control your body,” he commanded harshly.
“I can’t,” she cried, all but sobbing with her need. Her hips lifted in invitation.
“Please!”
“Not yet.” He was firm, resolute, absolutely unyielding.
She bit her lip. She clenched her fists. She tossed her head from side to side, but she held on. The aching between her legs rose through her body, gnawed at her breasts and burned her throat. She held on. She whimpered, she sobbed, she cried, but she held on.
“I’m going to count backward from ten to one. When I get to one, I’ll let you come.”
52
Sweet Discipline
“Oh,” she panted. “Count fast!”
“Ten.”
She squeezed her pussy muscles tighter, tight as she could with her knees spread wide.
“Nine.”
She tasted blood on her lip. Her inner muscles clenched.
“Eight.”
Her juices flowed more copiously.
“Seven.”
She couldn’t hold on any longer. She came, in a great gushing release.
Adrian withdrew. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked at her. Such a cold expression, even with the sweat on his forehead. She panted, gazing at him half-blind, sweating herself.
“We have a lot of work to do yet,” he said at last. He undid her restraints. “Clean yourself.”
With effort, she got herself off the table. Her knees gave way. She grasped the table for support, then realized Adrian’s arm was around her waist, propping her up. She could feel his strength in his hardened arm muscles, feel the pounding of his heart against her temple. As she gained her balance, she noted the trembling in his arm, his rock-hard torso and his hurried breathing. She felt his chin rest for a moment on her head and his chest expand as he drew in a large gulp of air. His hand tightened on her hip. Was that a caress or did she imagine his palm sliding over her butt? He released her slowly. “Go.”
She stumbled away from him. Still reeling from her orgasm, she made it across her suite and into her shower. She turned on the water and stood under the multiple showerheads pounding her with warm water. Her body felt drained, weakened both by her climax and anxiety. She’d failed. Even though she’d imagined a softer side of Adrian during her test, and felt him shake when it was over, she knew he wasn’t pleased with her. Somehow she knew he’d keep at her until he was satisfied with her control and reaction.