Big Bad Lawyer (Misters of Manhattan Book 1)

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Big Bad Lawyer (Misters of Manhattan Book 1) Page 4

by Lana Lachlan


  “Then I promise to make it memorable for you.”

  “Another promise,” she whispered. She ran a finger around a button on his shirt. “The bartender called you JD. What does the D stand for?”

  “A nickname I’d rather forget,” he said, watching her finger pluck at the button.

  “Should I call you JD?”

  “To start with. Are you ready to learn?”

  “Yes.”

  Her eyes held desire but also a trace of challenge. Despite her wanting this, Ophelia would resist him because she’d need to know how far she could push. In a way, that lack of surrender was part of her appeal.

  He removed his overcoat and suit jacket and lay them over a chair. “Is there anything you need before we start?”

  “No.”

  “Then I’d like you to undress for me,” he said, seating himself on the end of the bed.

  Sliding free of her coat, she let it drop while looking at him questioningly.

  “Sweater.”

  As she slipped it over her head, her hair came loose to fall in a long golden tumble over her shoulders and her white cotton bra. The overall impression of simple, authentic sexiness had him aching to see the rest of her.

  When she moved to undo her skirt, he shook his head. “Tights.”

  Reaching under her skirt, she worked them down her legs leaving the tights bunched around her ankles. No striptease from this girl, but that in itself gave her an edge over his usual submissives. And she seemed to have no idea of how lovely she was with her slim legs, narrow waist and small round breasts barely filling her bra. Her hands were at her sides, her lower lip caught between her teeth as though unsure of what to do next.

  “Panties?” she asked, her eyes downcast in a show of docility.

  He wanted that pleasure for himself. “Not yet. Look at me, Ophelia.”

  The brown eyes meeting his shimmered under the lights. Eager, yes, but also fearful. Understandable, considering she had no idea what to expect.

  “Come here, girl.”

  She hobbled up to him, her skirt brushing his knees. Sliding his hand between her legs, he trailed his fingers up her thigh, cupping her mound.

  “Will you be good for me tonight?”

  Her brow fell inquiringly. “What happens if I’m bad?”

  He made a knot of her pantie’s crotch, pulled it back. “By bad, do you mean disobedient?”

  Her eyes registered the discomfort but there was mischief as well. “What else would I mean, JD?”

  This was Ophelia pressing for him to act. A dream submissive ripe and ready. Opening his legs, he stood her between, his mouth watering at what lay waiting for him under her skirt. “You may call me Sir.”

  A ‘why would I do that?’ smile tugged the corners of her full mouth only to fall away when he wedged the cotton between her labia. “Say it.”

  She didn’t respond other than to tense.

  “I’m waiting.”

  “Sir,” she gulped when he yanked so hard, she almost lost her balance.

  He stroked the taut fabric. “Your panties are saturated.”

  “I-I...”

  She shook her head, staring at him dumbly.

  Something else he should have known. Despite her body telling her otherwise, Ophelia struggled to accept her kinky side. In her prim and proper world, domination belonged in sex clubs and dungeons where people dressed in leather and used whips, not here in a five-star hotel. She wanted a trip to her dark side but had faltered on the first step.

  He eased her back to arms’ length to ensure he had her full attention. “Discipline heightens sex like nothing else can, Ophelia. Some people are made for it and believe me, you are one of those people. Tonight I will look after you, keep you safe and give you what you want. But either you acknowledge who you are or don’t waste my time.”

  Cruel but necessary.

  She closed her eyes as if needing privacy to consider his words. He waited. When they opened, he saw the fire of a woman who’d gone to her dark side.

  “Before we go any further, I want you to think of a safeword.”

  Her brows knitted in puzzlement. “What’s that?”

  “You say it if the pain becomes too much.”

  She actually looked panic-stricken. “A-any word?”

  “Any word and everything stops then and there.”

  Her head dropped while she thought. “What about wolf?”

  An unusual choice. “Right, wolf it is. Take off your bra.”

  With trembling fingers, she unhooked it herself, catching it at her waist as though ready to cover herself and bolt out of the room. With her pert, rosy-tipped breasts in range, he cupped each breast, pressing them together to lick the taut nipples, hearing her soft moan above his head. He took a mouthful of one, sucked hard. Ophelia’s hands dropped the bra to creep around the back of his head, fluttering over his scalp as though unsure she had permission to touch him. Moving to the other petite mound, she dug her fingers into his head, her head falling back as she arched to his waiting mouth.

  With a final lick around the areola, he slid his hand under her skirt to grip her butt. “You were late for our appointment so I’m going to spank you. Do you deserve to be spanked, Ophelia?”

  He felt her tremble.

  “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.”

  Slipping his hand between her legs, he lifted her over his thighs, placing her face down. Her body went stiff in anticipation.

  “Tonight you will be my pupil. You will do what I tell you. Understood?”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes what?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  The first smack was the most gratifying and he often delayed it to ramp up the anticipation. Yet the sight of her pristine body lying over his knee had him pushing up her skirt to see what he would be dealing with. And as he’d suspected, they were there in all their glory. Big panties up to her middle, only these were white and a bit loose. Sexy in a weird way.

  Snapping the elastic as an introduction to what would follow, he gave her a few easy slaps. She took it without complaint although she gripped his pant leg and her head dropped lower. He began again, enjoying the sight of her backside jiggling beneath the virginal-looking cotton. He hadn’t spanked so lightly in ages, yet it felt damned good.

  He gave her a short respite before settling into sharper smacks, making sure he covered every inch of her rear end—top, side and underside. While he worked, she barely moved. Only on a harder smack did she try to put a hand protectively over her ass. He slapped it away and punished her with a few more hearty smacks.

  He paused to stroke the fiery heat. “What does a pupil do, Ophelia?”

  Her voice trembled. “She… she learns.”

  He heard the lust. This girl was already riding high on the pain.

  Pressing her down on his erection, he asked, “And what does she feel?”

  “She feels your cock, Sir.”

  “That’s right. And you’re making it harder.”

  “Am I?”

  Yep, behind that soft, butter-wouldn’t-melt exterior, Ophelia’s inner brat wanted out.

  “You’re not pleasing me, girl.” In reality, he loved brats.

  “So what…?”

  He silenced her with his hardest smack yet, but nowhere near his usual force. It would be a long night and he wanted to take his time with her, although it would be difficult now that he’d worked her panties down her legs to take his first real look. A tight and plentiful ass. Ophelia had one spankable tail.

  Keeping his palm flat, he spanked hard until she started to cry. Yet no safeword. Jesus, this girl had a taste for discipline. He slid his fingers between her legs. He already knew she was a shaver, not a waxer, and he enjoyed the feeling of wet bristles brushing his fingertips as he explored between her labia. Her whimpers caused by her pain in combination with his probing fingers made music to his ears. He loved this early stage, loved the feel of having the submissive in his control and, in Op
helia’s case, knowing she’d push to shatter that control. No amount of sexual knowhow in a sub could create that heady mix.

  “You enjoy being a brat, don’t you, girl?”

  “No, Sir.”

  “Oh, I think you enjoy testing your Dom.”

  Spreading her legs, he jammed his knee between when she tried to shut him out. “Relax. I’m going to have a look at you.”

  She clenched her buttocks. A few smacks and she gave up. Holding her cheeks open, he examined her. She really was an appealing thing with her tidy pussy and cute ass pucker.

  “Are you going to…?”

  She sounded more intrigued than worried.

  “You won’t be touched there.”

  With her small stature and inexperience, he wouldn’t go near her. Ophelia was an unreliable safeworder, making her vulnerable. His rules were strict. Discipline for mutual pleasure, protect the submissive and always be a gentleman in ensuring her satisfaction. Spanking would be more than enough for her first lesson.

  Flopping her on the bed, he raised a hand when she tried to sit up. “Stay down. Take off your shoes and tights.”

  As she worked her legs free, she watched him warily.

  “Now show me your pussy.”

  Like a kid, she clutched the bottom of her skirt to raise it a fraction. He couldn’t see much with her panties stuck halfway down her thighs.

  “Wider.”

  She did, ballooning the panties.

  Jesus.

  “Remove those things.”

  She frowned at him as she worked them down her legs. “Don’t you like them?”

  Oh yeah, he liked them well enough. He liked everything about her. This whole surreal session had him as hard as a fucking rock.

  “Now the skirt.”

  Naked, she looked like a delicate angel, the color of marble. A sharp contrast to his six-four deeply tanned, heavily muscled bulk. He came from a military family where every male did a tour of duty irrespective of later ambitions. He’d done his early—continued to keep his hand in with the reserves and regular martial arts workouts. It gave him mental discipline, the ability to handle himself in any situation, and respect for hard work.

  Speaking of work, time for this girl. Taking a fistful of condoms, he set them on the bedside table. As he undressed, Ophelia tracked his every movement, eyes turning huge when his bulge appeared. Not shy now. Just needy for cock.

  “You’re very sexy, Ophelia.”

  She looked up at him silently. The kid had no idea how to take the compliment. He doubted she even believed him.

  “And you’ve made me very hard.”

  At that, her eyes flew back to his briefs as though to make sure. Freeing himself, he squeezed his cockhead to release pre-cum, relishing the thought of where his dick would be in the next few minutes. Ophelia made a small noise, then to his amusement licked along her bottom lip. Fuck, that alone could make him ejaculate on the spot. Ophelia’s openness–her lack of guile–made her one powerful aphrodisiac. She’d redefined his idea of sexy.

  “I asked you a question earlier, girl, which you haven’t answered. Are you going to be good for me tonight?”

  Her eyes dragged up to give him a flash of daring. “I’ll try.”

  Yeah, a boundary pusher. “Lie back.”

  Rolling on a condom, he knelt between her legs. With one hand under her butt to raise her, his other took control of her sex, tracking his fingers along the inside of her labia to her clit where he pressed a fingertip but no more than that.

  She twitched her hips. “More, Sir.”

  Fuck, but he loved the juxtaposition of feistiness and timidity, but he had to draw the obedience line somewhere. Flipping her onto her belly, he dragged her up over his haunches to deliver his hardest smack yet, watching the red turn to a pleasing burgundy. The brat actually wiggled her ass at him.

  Taking a fistful of her hair, he drew her head back, leaned down to brush his mouth over her ear. “Don’t push it. Okay?”

  “Yes,” she said in a tone that said she understood but didn’t accept.

  “That didn’t sound very sincere.”

  “I’ll be good.”

  A lie if ever he heard one. “Believe me, I can be very hard on a brat even if she’s a newbie.”

  “I’m sorry, Sir.”

  “That’s what I like to hear.”

  Lowering himself down, he pushed her hair aside to lick the back of her neck while he fucked her with his fingers, suppressing the urge to put his cock in there. A slow build tonight would be difficult, but this part of the session was all about establishing control.

  He took her to the brink of orgasm before backing off. “You may come when I give you permission.”

  She mumbled something he couldn’t make out. Lucky for her or he might have to add more weight to his hand.

  “I want you still, Ophelia.”

  Sitting back up, he drew her hips up in readiness to take him. He’d give this girl the ride of her life, end it with a climax she’d never forget. Nor would he, going by the amount of blood in his dick. With her freshly spanked ass perched high, her glistening sex bared to him, she was about as perfect as a submissive could present. Bracing her hips in his hands, he shifted forward to direct his cock to her opening, gave himself the satisfaction of an inch inside. Withdrawing, he entered again, tucking himself further in before quickly pulling out. The master of dominance and iron-clad control was just short of blowing. Ophelia was snug, he knew that. In this position, she was as tight as a tick.

  She whimpered, rotated her hips to lure him back in.

  Glad for the interruption, he squeezed on a buttock until she squealed. “What did I tell you?”

  “To be still, Sir.”

  “That’s right.”

  Back in control of his balls, he took another dunk, watching his cock disappearing into the pink sheath. The sprite might be holding still for him but not on the inside. She had him tightly wrapped in her muscles. Ophelia had a surprising talent.

  His hands under her belly, he dragged her up over his thighs—so high, her knees were off the bed. Completely buried in her glorious cunt, he pumped, withdrew to smack her hard on the meatiest part of her ass. She wailed, wailed even louder when he delivered another, and yet another to add more scarlet to the soft flesh. Several more and her cries of pain fell to low, anguished sobs. Ophelia had reached her first moment when the lust and the pain and the power of domination blurs into true ecstasy.

  “Pl-please do it now, Sir.”

  He could practically taste her desperation. Holding her steady, he slapped her again and when satisfied she was good to go, he thrust home, holding until she adjusted to the invasion. He could come in a dozen strokes, she felt so good. Thankfully, he wouldn’t have to wait that long as her ragged breaths and fingers clawing at the sheets signaled a girl struggling to hold back her orgasm.

  A few more pumps and slaps and he freed her torment. “Come now.”

  She did, thrashing like a wild thing against his cock. Through her crying and writhing, he closed his eyes to feel his cum roaring out of his dick like an out of control freight train—the force of each jet so intense and so prolonged, he seriously wondered if the condom could hold it all.

  And yet his balls were nowhere near finished. Withdrawing, he flipped her to mount her again, groaning at the wet stretch of her pussy. No matter how many times he had this woman, that first-time-inside feeling would always be there. He could fuck her six ways from Sunday, and it wouldn’t lessen. An intoxicating sub. The kind a man could lose his head over if he didn’t keep his wits about him.

  And it wouldn’t be easy now that Ophelia had wrapped her legs around his waist and was seesawing furiously under him, trying for another climax. It must have been a while since she’d fucked, although at this moment, he knew exactly how she felt.

  It took Herculean effort to slide out of her, but he had something else to do before he came again. “Open your legs.”

  She
parted. Not enough for his liking. “All the way open.”

  Her eyes held worry, but she spread wide enough for his purposes. He kissed her before beginning his trail down between her breasts to her belly button where he paused to circle and play. Continuing the journey down, he took his first real look. A beautiful pussy, the labia fat with arousal leaving only a hint of the inner lips.

  Using his thumb and forefinger, he spread her open to tease the clit with the tip of his tongue. She tensed and when he glanced up to see what the problem was, she was staring at him like a terrified filly.

  “I’ve never...”

  Honestly? “Then you’re in for a surprise, girl. Relax.”

  To her credit, she tried but the moment he touched her again, she stiffened. He smacked the side of her thigh hard and she flopped back. Nothing like a healthy dose of correction to loosen a skittish sub.

  Sliding his hands under her ass to hold her steady, he took his first sample. God, he loved pussy. Loved the feel of it against the tongue, the smell, the whole damned thing. She tasted out of this world—muskiness and sweetness and female uniqueness all rolled into one sexy girl. While he circled and pressed and suckled, she trembled and gasped and by the time he zeroed in on the prize, her hips were up in offering.

  “Yes, right there,” she whispered.

  He drew on her clit. “Here?”

  “Yes… yes.”

  Several long swipes and he stopped. She worked her hips forward, trying to reconnect with his mouth.

  “I’ll tell you if I want you to move.”

  Sliding his middle finger inside, he located her G-spot. She gasped, shoved up on her elbows to stare at his hand between her legs. “What…?”

  “I’m on your G-spot. Have you not found it before?”

  Her surprised gape said she hadn’t. “It feels...”

  “Good? Enjoy it.”

  She sank back down then with barely a pause, pushed up again to watch him while he stroked the smooth area deep inside. As he dropped down to suck on her clit again, she jerked so hard he temporarily lost contact. She climaxed within seconds, flooding his mouth with her juices, his head wedged between her jolting thighs while her fingernails dug into his scalp. He wasn’t done, though. He bowed her off the bed with another blended orgasm, tonguing and fingering her through the fierce aftershocks until finishing her off with a long slow drag on her clit, which left her quivering.

 

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