by Charles, Eva
“I need this one, too,” he murmurs, tapping my cheek. I open my mouth and let the ball fall into his outstretched hand. “This one is much warmer.” He teases my clit with the smooth steel before pushing it inside. “Don’t you think?”
I jump when the balls begin to vibrate. “Shhh. Just a tiny movement so you know they’re there.” The sensation is heavenly. And so unexpected. This didn’t happen last night. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”
I nod. Because it does feel good. So good. The balls are barely moving, but my hungry cunt laps up every twizzle, and I purr like a well-fed cat as they whirl inside me.
But the languorous feelings are short-lived. They start to shift when JD circles my ass, one cheek at a time. Pulling and separating. It’s embarrassing. And arousing. And I fight to stay still.
“Relax, Gabrielle. Just enjoy my hands on you.”
I try. But it’s something we’ve never done. Something he couldn’t tempt my teenaged self into agreeing to do, and somewhere I haven’t gone with anyone else since.
His fingers are in the small of my back, pausing there briefly, before sliding down the long crevice between the cheeks. It’s humiliating and titillating, and I want more. At least I think I do.
He dips his fingers into my pussy, and draws the moisture up the slit, to the pleated entrance. I whimper. Please, no. Please. I’m mortified. So exposed. So vulnerable. My face burns.
“Has anyone been here?" he asks, like he might ask if I want milk with my tea. “Have you ever played like this?”
“No.” I squeak.
“Good. All your virgin holes. All mine.”
I bury my face deeper into my folded arms, as he presses a single fingertip over the most private of places. It doesn’t hurt. But it does make me feel squirmy. And dirty. His finger is ruthless, pressing firmly, the pressure constant and threatening, but he doesn’t push inside.
“Relax, Gabrielle. Tempting as it is, I’m not going there tonight. I just want you to get comfortable with my fingers here.” He taps a rough fingertip over the sensitive skin, and my bottom wriggles. “I want you to learn to enjoy me touching you everywhere. Every inch of your body is mine to explore. To tease. For my pleasure, and yours.”
His voice is melodic. Seductive. The room is hot, so hot, and my head is getting woozy. It’s getting to be too much.
“We’ll go slow,” he assures me in that voice. That Pied Piper voice, with its irresistible lure. “A little at a time, until you beg for my cock right here.” He wiggles his finger. “Until you love me filling all your holes.”
I sense myself pulling away from my body. The embarrassment and uncertainty, and the heat, nosing out the pleasure. I’m not sure what I want to do, what I want to say, if I want to stop him. But it doesn’t matter what I want, because I can’t form the words anyway.
I feel the rasp of lace, a tickle on the back of my knees as the thong comes off. I shift my head as JD buries his nose in the pink lace, inhaling deeply before carelessly tossing the thong aside. It’s dirty, and the twinges of shame are becoming stronger.
Just when I think I can’t bear anymore, he changes tactics, sliding off my shoes, and releasing my cramped toes. I sigh and wiggle them as they’re freed, enjoying the air flowing between my toes.
He massages each foot, lavishing special attention on the overstretched arch, circling the abused ball with a strong thumb until I writhe from the exquisite pleasure. “That’s better, isn’t it? I don’t know how you spend all day in those shoes.”
I sense him leaning in, and feel the unmistakable scrape of his teeth on my ass. It startles me as it stings the tender skin. I cry out as the sensations race toward my center, burying my face in my arms to muffle the cries.
He presses a soft kiss where his teeth sank into muscle, and lets his fingertip graze my pussy. Lightly. Slowly. It’s not meant to bring relief, only to torment. A delicious torment that goes on and on. He adjusts the pressure and movement ever so slightly, so the orgasm stays just out of reach.
It’s almost too much. I’m slipping again. And then it happens.
Crack, crack, crack. The sound blares, heralding the sharp stings that inevitably follow. It doesn’t hurt. Not really. Not at it first, but the fire sneaks up slowly. And then the small throb of pain comes.
He murmurs endearments while he rubs the burning skin.
Soothing gently.
Cooing softly.
Praising lavishly.
And then crack, crack, crack, on the other cheek. This time, he catches the skin right above where the thigh begins.
His fingers are in my pussy again, moving maddeningly slowly, inching me to the edge. I grind against them, hoping to spur them on. JD laughs softly, and shame washes over my hot sweaty face, but it’s not enough to stop me from chasing those long, thick fingers and the promise they hold.
“Keep still, Gabrielle.” He flattens his palm on my lower back, to stop my gyrations. “You’re so aroused. I can smell it, and my nose is nowhere near your pussy. Not yet.”
Oh God. I bury my face deeper, shifting slightly, and his cock becomes wedged against my hip. It’s hard, so hard, and so tempting. I fidget, rubbing myself all over the thick length. This time the hand comes down hard. Brutally hard, and he pulls his fingers from my cunt. “Stay still.”
I whimper. Not in pain, but in need. I’m close. So close. I rock into his thigh. Rubbing my mound into the muscle. My legs are shaking.
“Don’t you dare come, Gabrielle. Not until I tell you.”
I hear myself whimpering, and even as I cling to the bench for support, I can’t stop the pitiful mewls.
Crack, crack, crack. I’m already sore, and these slaps come down like a branding iron. He rubs the abused skin with one hand, and flicks my needy clit, once, once, with the other.
“Please,” I beg. But I’m not sure what I’m pleading for. Release? His hand hard on my ass? For him to stop? No. Not that. Please, not that. “JD, please.”
“Soon, darlin’. Soon.”
When he lifts me off of his lap, I’m a bit unsteady and curl my toes into the plush rug for support. JD stands, too, cradling my face while he kisses me. It starts with a gentle brush of his mouth, but in seconds it’s an urgent assault on all my senses. When he pulls away, I’m breathless.
“Take this off,” he demands, fingering the cami’s satin strap.
And I do, shedding the final garment without delay.
Even before the lingerie hits the floor, my hands are on his belt. But he squeezes them when I attempt to unloop the burnished strap from the gunmetal buckle. “Not yet.”
I’m naked, and he’s fully dressed. The power differential has never been starker between us. Is this what I’ve agreed to? There’s no time to protest before his thumbs are on my nipples, skating in small mind-numbing circles around the furled peaks until I don’t care about power discrepancies and agreements. Until I don’t give a damn about anything.
“I want you to get on that bed and show me how you made yourself come last night with the balls inside you.”
A small gasp pushes its way from my chest. I might be beyond aroused. I might not be able to string a coherent sentence together, but there’s still some part of me that’s hesitant to do what he asks. It’s been a long time since I masturbated for him. And then I’d used only my fingers. But I do remember how much he liked it. How hard it made him. How savagely he fucked me after I finished.
And how much I loved it.
“Now, Gabrielle. Don’t make me wait or you’ll spend the rest of the day without coming. Think how uncomfortable that’ll be.”
It occurs to me, as I go to my bedside drawer to fetch the vibrator I pleasured myself with last night, that I’m naked. Instinctively, I reach for a blanket to cover up, but I stop. He’s seen me naked before. More times than I can count. Besides, it seems silly, given what I’ve just let him do. Given what I’m about to do.
I glance over my shoulder. His eyes are on me. They’re a startl
ing blue. Virile and threatening. I was kidding myself to believe I had any control over this arrangement. Over him. It was a lie. All a lie.
A small panic hovers, but I look away before it squelches my desire.
JD pulls a Queen Anne chair near the bed. I watch him in my peripheral vision, the way a small animal tracks a predator. He settles in with an elbow resting on the wooden arm. The feminine chair with its sweeping lines and graceful curves makes him seem even larger than he is, stronger, and more sharply chiseled.
His jaw is tight. And his fingers dig into his thigh impatiently. I see the feral need in his eyes, the naked passion. It triggers a surge of power that rattles my spine, and emboldens me with some unabashed courage that had started to slip away.
I lift my chin and stack two pillows near the foot of the bed, just like last night. The balls stir inside me, a gentle tremble against my swollen walls, ensuring my arousal never wanes. I lay the rabbit vibrator carefully on its side, atop the pillows. It’s not my favorite toy, but it’s perfect for this kind of play. When I’m satisfied it’s positioned just right, I climb astride, using the wooden footboard to steady myself. After a small adjustment so the bunny, with its fluttering ears, hits my clit at the exact right angle, I flip the remote on low.
The whir fills the quiet room, competing only with the ragged breathing and the small gasps. Are they coming from me? From him? Does it matter?
JD’s a few feet away, testosterone seeping through his pores, wafting into my nostrils. Musky. Sinful. Scathing. It’s all I can smell.
I pull my head back, and stare straight into his eyes. They’re dark and hooded. Oh, JD, you want this. You want it more than your next breath. You need it. You can’t resist the lure of filthy sex any more than I can. But this time it will be your downfall, not mine. This time it’s your heart that will be left in a million pieces when I walk away.
He’s clenching the arms of the chair, his knuckles ghost white. And I wonder if the delicate frame can survive his punishing grip.
With every forced breath he takes, I feel a tug of power in my chest.
“Do you like this?” I murmur, pulling on my nipples before letting my hands slide to my belly. He grunts, fingering his belt. I rock my hips side to side, while he frees his cock.
It’s fat and hungry, the skin shiny and taut. So taut, the dark purple veins are visible. I shiver, remembering how his cock stretches and fills me. How he works me with it until my legs quiver like jelly.
I want that again. I want it now.
I slow my movements to better inspect him. To see if his cock is everything I remember. It seems bigger now, thicker and angrier. But it’s still magnificent, with its proud, dusky crown.
My pussy flutters with delight when he takes it in hand, rubbing the leaking cum onto the shaft. It’s lewd—so lewd—in the very best way.
He tosses his head back. His scruffy jaw is slack. I sink lower onto the vibrator, grinding with abandon. The tightening is starting. The tug in my belly is urgent. I arch my back, shoving my heavy breasts forward. Yes. It’s beginning.
This will all be over soon. For both of us.
JD’s hand moves over the swollen shaft, with short, hard pulls, while his glassy eyes flicker over my burning flesh. It’s mesmerizing.
My release beckons now, every muscle fully engaged. I begin to buck, and grip the wooden footboard to stay upright.
“Wait for me,” he warns, jerking harder. The muscle in his forearm pops with every vicious stroke. He doesn’t miss a single beat when he reaches over and scoops my discarded camisole from the floor. Gathering it in his fist, he fucks himself mercilessly with the soft fabric that covered my breasts only minutes before.
My mouth is wide open as I fight for air. But I can’t take my eyes off him. Not even to breathe.
“Now, Gabrielle. Come for me. Take it. Take it, now.”
Yes. Yes. I flip the remote up a few notches, and roll my hips, sliding my slick pussy along the phallus, while the powerful pulses zing the swollen flesh. I bear down, squirming over the bunny, babbling nonsense. My womb clenches into a tight, almost painful ball, as I dive off the edge with jerky movements and strangled moans, collapsing onto the antique footboard in a shaky heap.
Somehow, I manage to push through the tremors, and force my head to the side and my eyes open to watch him. My efforts are richly rewarded with the last glorious pull. The one that comes as his hips jerk forward, and his mouth falls open in a long, anguished roar, as the milky seed gushes over his fist and onto the delicate pink fabric.
My eyelids are heavy. I try, but I can’t stay awake any longer.
I don’t know how much time passes, but when I open my eyes, JD’s standing over me. “Let’s take out those balls, darlin’. Push down. Just like that.” His finger curls inside me, helping the balls out.
He disappears into the bathroom, and I hear the faucet running. When he comes back he brings water and ibuprofen, which I swallow without protest. He picks up some hand cream from the bedside table, and inspects the tube before spreading it over my backside. I’m too tired to be embarrassed as he soothes the bare skin.
“This isn’t the best stuff,” he says. “But it has aloe and it will make you feel better.”
When he’s finished, he settles me under the covers. The sheets feel like silk on my cheek, and I curl deeper into the mattress. JD sits on the bed beside me and brushes an errant strand of hair from my face. He pets and smooths, and I nuzzle into his hand and moan, without ever opening my eyes. God, I missed this.
“Sleep. I’m setting your alarm so you can get back to work in time for your afternoon meetings. I’ll have lunch delivered to your desk. Sleep as long as you can.”
I’m warm and content, safe in my bed. His voice lulling me toward sleep, quiet and gentle—until it isn’t.
“You need to obey me, Gabrielle. If you don’t, it won’t end in a satisfying orgasm next time.” He presses his lips to my temple, and the bed shifts as he rises. The last thing I hear is the door click behind him.
14
Julian
After a mind-blowing morning with Gabrielle, I’m spending the rest of the day getting better acquainted with Sayle Pharmaceuticals. The company was started by my mother’s father. When she died, her children were all underage, so Sayle became a subsidiary of Wilder Holdings. But my father can’t change the name, or oust my brothers and me from the company. It galls him to have the Sayle name attached to the shining star of Wilder Holdings, reminding everyone he came from nothing, all his wealth inherited from his wife.
Over the years, DW has managed to keep many of the inner workings of the company a secret from everyone, including the board. But now he doesn’t have any choice but to open the doors to me.
DW’s not the only one unhappy that the curtain’s being pulled back at Sayle. There’s Leonard Simms, who I’m about to grab by the neck and throw against the wall. Simms is upper-level management. The senior VP of assholes, and my father’s eyes and ears at the company. He’s spent the last twenty minutes trying to get me to cancel a company-wide meeting I scheduled without his prior knowledge.
“JD, you’re a busy man,” Simms explains, like I don’t already fucking know it. “You really shouldn’t have a big meeting like this. It makes people nervous. Like they’re about to be laid off. The transition meetings we’ll be having with employees are enough.”
“Sounds like you’re the one who’s nervous, Simms.”
He ignores me. Mistake number one. “We can still cancel,” he says, as we approach the cafeteria where the meeting will take place. He’s still talking. Mistake number two. “You can go back to your office,” he tells me, “and I’ll go in, and send everyone back to their workstations.”
Okay, I’m done. I swivel around and trap Simms between my body and the wall. I’m a good foot and a half away from him, but trust me, he’s caught like a weasel in a spring-loaded trap. “We are not doing any transitions. I’m doing the transition meetings,
and I don’t need an assistant beside me, nodding for emphasis. You’re free to do some real work during that time.”
“But your father—”
“I am not finished.” I lean forward, and give him a few long seconds to think about how close I’m standing before I continue. “I prefer all employees hear what I have to say at the same time, so there’s no confusion. You do what you want, but if I were you, I’d pay close attention in there.”
After a few more seconds pass, I turn, and walk away. “And Simms—” He jumps back, like I’m going to hurt him. I’ve gutted live bass that aren’t as squeamish as this prick. “I’m the person signing your paycheck now, not my father. If you prefer to work for him, the door’s behind you. But if you stay, I don’t want to hear his fucking name from your lips again.”
I think he just pissed himself. “Of-of-of course. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You haven’t seen upset,” I mutter, as I enter the large dining hall, with hundreds of employees already squeezed inside. Some sit, others stand elbow to elbow with their co-workers.
As I look around the room, I can’t help but think of my mother and my grandfather, and everything Sayle meant to them. Their images flash in front of me, clear as day, looking as though they’re counting on me to do something big.
I won’t let you down, I silently promise, as though they can hear me.
I stride to the front of the room and grab a portable microphone from a young woman—Deidre. Then corral a chair to stand on, so I can see all the faces. And so they can all see me. “Good afternoon,” I call to the masses, my voice booming over the hushed whispers.
“Good afternoon,” a few dozen call back.
“My mother was Julia Davis Sayle,” I tell the crowd, and her father, my grandfather, was Julian Davis Sayle. And in case you haven’t guessed, I’m Julian Davis Wilder, but most everyone calls me JD.”
As I face the room, the responsibilities I’ve assumed take on a sharper focus. This isn’t just my family’s business, it’s the livelihood of many.