by Lana Lachlan
“You can’t tell me to behave. We’re not in a hotel room now.”
“But you wish you were and that’s what’s got you so pissed.”
“No, I don’t. I hate you!”
He knew her lie because he strode straight up to her and sat her on her desk as though she weighed nothing more than her laptop. Removing her glasses, he placed them on the desk and held her face in his broad palms. “That’s not true, is it Ophelia? You want me to pull your panties down and see to you here and now.”
So arrogant, so typical Jack Slayer and so right. She could no more resist him than she could resist gravity. Who could feel self-disgust and desire at the same time? She, that’s who.
“Not true,” she argued anyway, trying to quell the betraying heat in her cheeks.
“Isn’t it, girl?” His hand shoved up her skirt to finger her through her tights and panties. “Christ, you’re wet already.”
Ophelia gasped as his finger dug in.
“You’re in need of cock, counselor.” He leaned in close. “And a hiding for arguing with me.”
If he didn’t stop with the finger, she’d climax. An embarrassing climax because this was all play to him. Last night he’d played with Candice, probably woke up this morning and played with her again. His bed would always have a Candice—probably several at once. After all, who could resist big bad Jack Slayer?
His mouth brushed her ear. “What am I going to do with you?”
He knew the answer as he’d pushed her legs wide to jam himself against her mound.
“Jack,” she whispered, trying to ignore the protrusion. “Why are you doing this? I’m not your type, you said so last night. You don’t want me.”
“Fuck!”
He said the word desperately and Ophelia realized he did want her. That he couldn’t control himself any more than she could. She trembled, the last of her resistance up in flames, her pussy aching to be filled. She squirmed against his erection as though she could liberate it by friction alone. Her shoes clattered to the floor.
Jack moaned, plunged his tongue deep into her mouth, his hand back between her legs. Ophelia, riding a wave of longing to have that other plunging part of him in her body, felt for his belt, but he pulled back. Ophelia saw the hard gleam in his eyes that meant one thing.
“You’ve made me lose control here, Ophelia. What’s more you’ve given me an inconvenient hard on. I’m going to have to punish you.”
Ophelia stammered her response. “Wh-what punishment?”
“Something to teach you a lesson.”
“But the case,” she protested, trying to keep some part of her mind on business.
“It’s over for you.”
Before she could ask what he meant by that, he had his phone out. “Sebastian, reschedule for tomorrow afternoon. Let Nealand know, but don’t say anything else without me there.”
“Where are we going?” she asked after he’d pocketed his phone.
“My place,” came his brusque answer. He adjusted his pants. “Damnation, my cock’s uncomfortable.”
Ophelia smothered a giggle, which only added to the glint in his eyes. “It’s clear you need a firm hand.” He ran a finger down the lapel of her black suit. “I hear you’re into animal rights. Is this thing hemp?”
Ophelia caught the faint mockery. “What’s wrong with hemp?”
He lifted her off the desk. “Do you ever wear anything that once had eyes, Ms. Tate?”
She put on her glasses to look over them snootily. “Unlike most people, Mr. Slayer, I genuinely care about my causes. By the way, I’m not dropping the case.”
“You will but that conversation can wait. For now, you need sorting out. Do you know what I’m saying?”
“Yes, Sir, I know.”
Ophelia lay in Jack’s en suite tub, moving around in the bubbles to get her butt comfortable. She’d been in his apartment for almost an hour and in the tub for most of the time. After briefly showing her around the apartment, he’d led her to the bathroom and ordered her to take a long soak in readiness for later. Ophelia didn’t need later. Her bottom needed TLC.
Flicking on the hot tap lever with a toe, she watched the water rise, her mind filled with Jack. She’d assumed he lived somewhere impressive, but impressive didn’t begin to describe this place. Fabulous views of Manhattan, fabulous rugs, paintings, furniture and a kitchen to die for. To get loose in Jack’s kitchen would be heaven. She could cook for twenty and still not use all that counter space.
“Everything okay?”
Ophelia jumped at the boom carrying across the marble-tiled bathroom. “It’s fine.”
He padded across the tiles in bare feet, carrying a bottle of wine and two glasses. In black board shorts and blue tee that matched his eyes, he looked young and casual and not at all like a big bad man who had promised to sort her out.
He handed her a glass of wine. “How are the bruises?”
Ophelia sipped before answering. “Sore.”
“They’ll take a few days to heal.”
And later there would be more. There had to be something wrong with her to tolerate being spanked.
“Mind if I join you, Ms. Tate?”
Ophelia loved his sexy politeness. Smooth exterior, rough on the inside. “Have I a choice, Mr. Slayer?”
“I’ll let you decide.”
He took her glass to set it and his own on the shelf at the end of the tub. While he stripped, Ophelia watched, soaking up the sight of his power, of his super-muscular body—tanned and hard and adorned with dark chest hair that traveled in a line down between his abs, over his belly and spread out in a wiry thatch. Jack’s penis hung long and thick and heavy-looking, almost concealing the tight sack behind. And temptingly, it was within reach.
Without thinking, Ophelia ran a fingertip down the length, then dropped her hand quickly, assuming she’d overstepped the mark. But he stood quietly and she took that as permission to touch him again. Climbing onto her knees, she cradled him in her hand, stroking the length, awed by its weight and how fast it grew under her touch. Looking up into Jack’s eyes for his approval, she saw the desire, the need for her. Ophelia had never felt sexier in her entire life. She had power and as she’d proved in her office, she could make him lose control.
On impulse, she leaned over the side of the bath to lick him, loving the feel of the now erect shaft under her tongue. She felt his hand move to her head, urging her forward. Nervously, she put her mouth over the tip. At any moment Jack would realize she had no idea how to do this and he’d pull away, disappointed in her. But other than stroking her hair, he let her carry on. Ophelia slid her mouth further down the enormous column. He pushed and Ophelia choked, but she wanted to prove to Jack that she wasn’t totally naive. Opening wide, she shoved her head forward to take the rest, the impact making her gag so hard, she jerked backwards and lost her balance.
“Easy,” he said, leaning down to help her to her knees again. “Have you given head before.”
Ophelia had to confess her shameful secret. “No. I’m sorry, Jack.”
He raised her chin to look down at her. “You have no idea, do you?”
She shook her head. “I wish I knew how.”
“Ophelia, I’m not talking about sucking dick. I’m talking about you not realizing how desirable you are.”
Nobody had ever told her that before. “You mean that?”
He sighed. “Yeah, I do. And don’t apologize to me again. Like hell you need to apologize to a man for being you.”
“I… I…”
“Stop wasting my time, girl, and listen while I teach you how to do a blow job. First off, there’s no need to impress a guy by trying to take it all. It’s about technique.” Holding his penis, he held her chin in position to direct it into her mouth. “Start with the helmet, lick all around and suck it like a lollipop.”
Ophelia willingly accepted the offering, swirling her tongue, intrigued by the feel of the fat top against the roof of her mouth.
“Very good.”
His approval made her so proud, she swirled some more.
“Now lick all the way down to get it lubricated, then use your fingers to fluff the shaft.”
Her fingers didn’t meet around the girth, but she managed to shuttle her hand up and down well enough.
She heard him hiss. “That’s right. Come forward so I can dip.”
Leaning into him, Jack held her head in both hands while he entered her mouth, holding her steady as he slid over her tongue. It felt good—like he was pleasuring her as much as himself.
“Use your lips to draw on it.”
She could and she did with all her little heart.
Another hiss from above her head. “Very good. Now if you want to take more, open your throat like you’re chugging a beer. Breathe through your nose to stop the gag reflex.”
Ophelia tried but couldn’t manage.
He drew back. “Don’t force it. Just take what you can.”
Taking a deep breath, she opened wide and enclosed him again. He remained motionless, barely holding her head, giving her all the time she needed to learn. Taking a breath, she slid him deeper. The top nudged the back of her throat. No gag.
A groan came from above her head. “Hell, you’ve done it.”
His hands tightened, holding her fast to his groin while Ophelia sucked and pumped. She loved having him in her mouth, loved the salty taste, loved the heaviness of the shaft and its silkiness.
“You okay?” he said above her, holding her hair a little more tightly now.
With her mouth full, she could only nod. Cupping his scrotum in her other hand, she thumbed the tight sac, intrigued by the way it rolled around. She’d never done this before either so she hoped she pleased him.
She did because Jack shuddered. “You’re gonna make me come, baby.”
Jack’s hands gripped on her head to push further into her throat while making growls in his own throat. Ophelia sucked and pumped furiously. He trembled against her, snarled, “Get ready.” A second later. “Aaaaah, fuck!”
With him so far in, Ophelia couldn’t swallow. His cream shot warm and thick all through her mouth and trickled down the back of her throat. He gripped her head to take it all, but she wanted it that way. She felt strong and sexy and ravenous for more.
He withdrew, tilted her face up to grin down at her. “Now that’s what you call coming in someone’s face.”
Swallowing the last of his cum, Ophelia felt very pleased with herself. Jack knelt, wiped her lips with a finger before handing back her glass of wine. “Wash it all down.”
She chugged it, making him smile. “There’s something I want to tell you, Jack.”
He tucked one side of her hair behind her ear. “Go on.”
“I’m covered.”
His brow went up. “Good to know, but is there a reason for telling me?”
“I thought it would be… be nicer without a condom,” Ophelia mumbled, now self-conscious at her boldness.
He opened his mouth to speak so Ophelia rushed on before she completely lost her nerve. “I’ve only had two boyfriends and they were ages ago. I trust you, Jack.”
Perhaps she shouldn’t but she did. Candice didn’t matter—didn’t need to matter because at this moment Jack belonged to her. He knew her inside and out, knew what she needed, knew how to make her body sing. He looked after her, would keep her safe. He was her Dom.
“Ophelia…”
“Please, Jack. I want to show you that I’m yours.”
He reached out and stroked a finger across her cheek. “I understand, little one.”
Lowering himself into the other end of the tub, he settled back while Ophelia appreciated the view of Jack’s muscled shoulders and heavy biceps. His tan looked dark against the white tub and his broad chest glistened with moisture. Her admiration had to be super-obvious because the corners of his eyes were creased in amusement.
“Have you ever had tub sex, girl?”
If satisfying oneself while bathing counted, then yes. “Many times.”
“Describe one time to me.”
“Um…”
“Were you on top?”
“Not exactly.”
“So, was he on top?”
“Well…”
“Was it a woman?”
“No.”
“Something else?”
She played with the bubbles, not wanting to say.
“Or were you alone, masturbating?”
Her face burned. “Mind your own business.”
He laughed—a throaty sound that made her face burn hotter.
“Would you like to do that now?”
Ophelia squeaked her response. “Is that what you want?”
His eyes went dark. “Some people get off on watching. I’d like to watch you.”
Even her instinct to please him couldn’t overcome this. “Not in front of you.”
“It can be very liberating.”
“I can’t.”
He reached out a hand. “I’ll show you. Come over here.”
Ophelia slid along the bath. He sat her between his legs, facing away from him. Taking her hand, he placed it between her legs. “Put a finger in.”
Shyly, she slipped a finger inside, feeling naughty for doing something so private in front of Jack.
His chin rested on her shoulder as he parted the bubbles. “I can’t see very much so you have to tell me which finger?”
“Forefinger.”
“Get it up high.”
Was he recreating his phone sex? Ophelia might have objected if she hadn’t been in sensual overload. “I can’t get very far up.”
He lifted her onto his lap, his big body dwarfing hers as he lay her back so her hips were out of the water, her legs splayed on each side of his thighs. “Try again.”
Ophelia did, hesitantly at first because he could see everything now.
“Yeah, that’s it,” he murmured when she had her finger buried and began to squirm on it. She felt his hips rock under her butt. Ophelia squirmed harder, now liking her naughtiness. When he put her other hand to her clit and told her to stroke, she stroked so that both of her hands were busy.
“You’re turning me on, babe.”
His encouragement and the feel of Jack’s erection jammed in her butt crack were all she needed to rub and pump, rolling her hips into the mounting ecstasy. Jack’s hands enclosed her breasts. Ophelia felt completely engulfed in the most wonderful way.
“How close are you?”
“Very,” Ophelia panted.
“Let it go.”
Her body was so tuned in to Jack’s authority, she could practically climax on cue. As the gratifying rush consumed her, Jack pinched her nipples and murmured small encouragements in her ear. She was still shaking from the aftereffects when he lifted her high to put himself inside her pussy in one smooth movement. And when he began to rotate her on his cock as though to make more room for himself in her body, Ophelia puffed, “Oh, I’m too tight, Jack.”
A soft laugh ghosted her ear. “You want to get off, baby?”
“Noooo.”
She fell back against his chest. Jack’s movements gentled and Ophelia forgot about everything but the fitted heat tending to her pussy and the big hands caressing her breasts.
The lull was too good to last. She felt his hands slide to her hips. With a low grunt, one hand went under her butt, the other circled her waist. “As you’ve emptied me, girl, this might take a while so feel free to look after yourself again.”
And he began to push at the same time raising and lowering her on his cock, the splashing and churning making a mountain of bubbles at the far end of the tub. With her sore rear end, Ophelia found his jolting hips painful but apart from raising her head to watch him disappearing into her body, she didn’t dare move… except on the inside where she squeezed to give him the gratification he’d given her earlier. Not that she could do much else with Jack’s iron grip and his pistoning hips
and the water cascading over the sides of the tub like a storm had descended.
“Hold on, babe.”
Ophelia held on. The storm continued for a minute or so before everything went still. Ophelia heard a loud ‘fuck’ from over her head and then felt his cock twitching. Ophelia gripped as tightly as she could to ensure she captured the cum spouting freely into her.
He lifted her free. “I was a bit rough on you that time.”
Ophelia moved around on his lap to ease the pressure.
“Sore ass?”
“Yes.”
“Poor baby.”
No real sympathy, although he did lift her out of the tub, dry her off and put her in a short tank top which didn’t cover her bottom. Carrying her through to his bedroom, he set her down on the coverlet. Her Dom in every way, even down to telling her to prepare the bed. While she drew back the comforter and plumped the pillows, Jack disappeared into his walk-in closet. Ophelia sat down on the silk sheets and took in the view of Manhattan through the full-length windows. A person could stare at that view for a year and never want to look away.
“What are those for?” she asked, on full alert when he appeared holding several neckties. Ignoring her, he tossed them on the bed before sauntering to the window. Lacing his hands behind his back, he stretched. With his frame outlined against the last of the daylight, he looked like a magnificent beast. His dominance, his virility, his sheer physical strength both fascinated and terrified her. Yet there could be no turning away from Jack or the joy of his sexual pain.
“I want you to be obedient for me tonight, Ophelia,” he said, rolling his massive shoulders.
“Yes, Jack.”
“You may call me, Sir.”
The wolf had arrived.
“Say it.”
She shivered. “Sir.”
He padded a light tread to her. He even moved like a wolf. “Take off the tank top.”
Ophelia obeyed, her nipples beading under Jack’s scrutiny of her breasts.
“Now blindfold yourself.”
Ophelia swallowed at the sight of the necktie in his hand. Tonight would be more than a spanking and it was the not knowing that made him so electrifying.
Nervously, she tied the necktie over her eyes, sitting rigidly, wondering where he might be. Locked in her darkness, there was only her pounding heart, the breath in her throat and now the feel of Jack’s fingers sliding through her hair, pushing her down.