His Pawn

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His Pawn Page 41

by Emily Snow


  It’s happened before, and I hate that I’m letting those bitter memories dull this moment. “What is it, love?” he demands.

  “What if—” I pause, swallowing deeply. “What if I’m not—”

  “Don’t even fucking say it.” He nudges his cock against my bare stomach. I gasp at the sensation of our bodies pressed together, and when I try to move off him, he grasps my hips to still my movements. "Don't move, or you’ll see exactly how much you turn me on,” he commands gruffly, releasing me. He fumbles with something in his hand, and when he pushes me away from him for a moment to sheath himself, my throat constricts as I take in his size and length.

  The thought of him—of that—inside of me sends a thrill shooting from my head to my toes.

  His hands return to my hips once more to pull my body up and over him as he settles me onto his cock. "Jace!" I cry out, my voice echoing off the four walls as he pushes deep inside of me without warning. The muscles of my sex clench around him. "You're so … ohhh!”

  "You’re better, Lucy. Believe me, you’re better.” He lifts me up, his lower body pressing into the bed until his cock is completely out of me, except for the tip, which he grazes against my clit. "Do you like how that feels?”

  He knows I do—he must—especially from the way my nails dig into his chest as I cling onto him.

  "So good … so good," I breathe and he responds by pulling my body down and thrusting his hips forward, filling me. "Oh god!"

  He slaps my ass, earning my approval in the form of a throaty cry. “I told you, I only want you saying my name tonight.”

  I fall apart, whispering his name, riding him hard, telling him not to stop. Finally, he cuts me off by gripping my hair and bringing my mouth to his.

  "I'm not going to stop." His own breath is ragged while he pumps into my sex until I’m close to climaxing. In one quick, perfectly executed motion, he flips me over onto my back and drives into me hard. "We've only just begun."

  I curl my fingers into the cool sheets beneath us as he plunges in and out of me, his movements alternating from rough and fast to slow and painfully deep. My sex hums, every pore in my body tingling at the all too familiar sensation of another orgasm. Wrapping my legs tightly around his waist, I writhe against him as the climax hits me and leaves me breathless.

  I moan, clawing at his back, arching against him, and he grants me a slow, satisfied smirk. Reaching his hand behind him, he carefully unhooks my ankles and moves my legs over his shoulder. When he kisses the inside of my thigh, I feel my sex spasm around him.

  He finally explodes a moment later, releasing a guttural sound that overpowers my own.

  I don’t intend to fall asleep with him, but somehow I do, and when I awaken to the sensation of something cold and hard against my thigh, I automatically launch into panic mode when I find that my hands are above my head and firmly rooted to the bed.

  He’s cuffed me to the bed.

  Jesus H. Christ.

  I struggle against the binds, arching my back as I try to lift my head from the pillows. “What are you doing?” I whisper breathlessly, taking in the sight of his taut, muscular body wedged between my legs. He smiles wickedly, moving his hand slightly, moving the toy he used to wake me up along the folds of my sex. Sucking in a breath, I buck my hips as he circles the cold metal over my clit. “Jace…”

  “Relax.” He keeps his gaze firmly on mine and kisses the inside of each of my thighs. I start to tighten my legs, but he stills me, splaying a large hand on my left knee. He spreads it as wide as possible, and I gasp.

  I’ve never been this exposed before. I’ve never been cuffed to a bed or looked at in such bright lighting, and I’ve certainly never had a lover touch me like this with a … toy.

  Jace has accomplished all four and only in a matter of hours. I feel some of my anxiety lift away as he skims the chrome past my folds. He nudges it around the opening of my sex before he wiggles the tip in. I moan, and my body arches.

  “Relax,” he soothes again, pumping his hand back and forth against my pussy, the inside of his wrist meeting my clit in a staccato rhythm. “I just want to watch you come.”

  “You have watched me come,” I say through clenched teeth, prompting him to go faster.

  “Not like this, I haven’t.”

  “I can’t—” I start, releasing a sound that burns the back of my throat when he twists and wiggles the chrome at the same time, hitting just the right spot. “Holy fuck.”

  "That’s a good girl,” Jace croons. He skims my inner thigh with his teeth, kissing and sucking until my legs are trembling around his tattooed form. While his hand continues to work its brilliance on my body, he captures my gaze with his. “Do you like this?” he demands. “Do you like what I’m doing to your sweet, tight cunt, Lucy?”

  “Yes!” I scream. “Oh god, yes!”

  As I come, my moans and cries echoing off the walls along with the sound of the restraints clanging against the headboard, he draws himself up my body. He unhooks the cuffs while my orgasm dies away, and when I start to drape my trembling arms over his shoulder, he shakes his head.

  “Oh no, it’s my turn.” He gives my hip a loud smack that drags a gasp from my lips. “Over on your stomach, love, with your hands around the railing.”

  “Again?” I pant, and he grins like the devil.

  “Until the sun comes up.”

  TWENTY

  JACE

  “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” I demand groggily, unable to take my eyes off Lucy when she swings her long legs over the side of the mattress and starts to scoot off the edge of the bed.

  “Home.” There’s a satisfied smile in her voice as she bends over, reaching around on the floor for something. She yawns. “I’ve got to find my phone, and then I’ve got to go home so I can shower and come back to work.”

  “That’s ridiculous. I’m your boss, and I’d much rather you play catch up here in bed with me.” She shoots a sexy look over her shoulder, her black hair flying everywhere, and my throat tightens. Christ, why does she have to be so damn enticing? “Get back in bed, Lucy. I’ve got something important to show you.”

  “That’s what you told me last night and then when you talked me into that thing I did—”

  “You sucked my dick in my office, love. I promise you can say that aloud and nobody will judge you.”

  She nibbles on her bottom lip just before she ducks her head again. When she comes up from the side of the bed, she’s holding her phone. “Regardless of what you want to call it, you told me both times that you had something important to show me.”

  I take her hand in mine, grinding her palm to my cock until her hazel eyes darken and her lips part. “That is important. And if you come back to bed, I’ll show you why.”

  Although I swore up, down, and motherfucking sideways I wouldn’t touch her more than once, this is the third time I’ve experienced the wonder that’s her sweet cunt since our first night together less than a week ago. Lucy’s hard to resist and even harder to deny, and I can’t keep my hands off her body. This time, all it had taken was for her to prance into my office and murmur the words “cock ring” for me to come undone yesterday evening.

  She’d been referring to a shipment of toys that’s headed out to Amsterdam at the end of the month, but I couldn’t stop myself from introducing her to our newest product. My dick goes rigid just thinking about the way she looked and felt beneath me, her ass jiggling as I pumped into her, her cheeks flushed as she glanced over her shoulder. She had repeatedly panted that she’d never been with anyone wearing a cock ring, that she’d never been fucked for so long before. I had wrapped her hair around my fingers and tugged her head back until my lip brushed the damp strands of hair clinging to her ear.

  “Do you want me to stop?” I’d rasped. She shook her head, bucking her hips, tightening her pussy around me until my cock throbbed. I’d slapped her ass and she moaned. “Then don’t complain about it taking too long.”

>   I’m sure as fuck not going to let her know that I’ve never felt anything like her before either.

  Rolling over, I reach out to her, pressing my fingertips into the dimples at the small of her back. She tosses her phone to the edge of the bed and smiles shyly over her shoulder. “I’ve got to go home and get dressed so I can—” She swallows down what she was saying thanks to the harsh squeeze I give her ass cheek. I move closer, cupping her between both hands, and she lets her head fall back. Her black hair swings over my fingers, covering my tattoos.

  “Stop,” she pleads.

  “Not until I get more.”

  “And when the guys show up here and find me with you? Ash already thought something was going on when I had your shirt the other week. The last thing I want is for him or any of the others to find out about … this.”

  She’s got a good point. Somewhere between that first night and this past Monday when I interrupted her conference call to make her come with my tongue and hands, we’ve slipped into something casual. We’ve only talked about it once, but we’ve verbally agreed that we can be adult about this. That we can still maintain professionalism and fuck. Still, I can do without my crew finding out I’ve been breaking my own rules and making use of the photo room with the marketing director for the last week.

  “Do you want them to find out?” she questions, her soft voice and hopeful expression asking me for something I’ve got no plans to give.

  “I’ll let you go home, Williams,” I mutter, ignoring her question. I drag her pillow over my face, and I’m smirking when I shove it aside. She forces a smile. “Everything in here smells like you. You and sex.”

  She shivers but says nothing as she dresses in the same clothes I coaxed off her yesterday evening when she came to me twisting those pouty lips around filthy words. By the time she slides her heels on, nervously working her fingers through her hair to tame it, I’m sitting up in the bed with several pillows propped behind my head.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” she asks, and I motion her to me. She gives me a hesitant look as she returns to the bed.

  “The next time I wear that ring and fuck you,” I say, pulling her onto me so that she straddles me, “I want to be in your tight arse, Lucy.”

  She sucks in a breath through her teeth. “I’ve never done that.”

  “Then I’ll be your first.” Reaching out to her, I rub a lock of her hair between my fingertips, inhaling the scent that rises from it. “And you’ve no idea how much it turns me on knowing I’ll be the first to feel you there.”

  She lets out a choked sound and closes her eyes. “And yet we keep saying we’re not going to do this anymore.”

  Releasing her hair to fall over her breast, I cup her face and feather my thumbs over her skin. She’s soft—so fucking soft. “We keep saying that, but then I remember the way you taste and feel.” She arches into me, so I continue, “Now that we’ve started, I don’t know how to stop.”

  That makes me fucking weak.

  This doesn’t have to affect us professionally, I remind myself, knowing what a goddamn idiot I am for thinking it. My working relationship with Lucy Williams was ruined the moment I told her what I wanted from her. It’s just a matter of time before shit hits the fan and she quits, so I’m determined to take everything she’s willing to give me now.

  I’m a selfish prick for even acknowledging that, but she’s a smart woman.

  She’s thinking the same thing.

  “I don’t know how to stop either,” she whispers, bringing my focus back to her face. She dips her gaze to where the sheets stir between us, indicating my desire to be balls deep inside of her once more. Licking her lips with the same tongue that drove my cock crazy just hours before, she shimmies off the bed and turns her back to me to finish buttoning her pants. “I really should get home, though.”

  Before we do something we’ll regret.

  She doesn’t say that, but the words hang in the air.

  “Go home, love, so you can come back. Then all I’ll think about for the rest of the day is the way you looked after I showed you the waterfall.” Though she’s not staring directly at me, I know she’s blushing, and I can’t help but smirk at the memory hurtling through my head. After round one last night, she asked about the position I brought up during my interview with the blonde who hasn’t stopped emailing since. While I’d rather jerk my dick with sandpaper than pursue someone as pushy as Allene, I was more than eager to show Lucy the position. By the time I was through, she had come twice.

  Then, for good measure, I made her cunt quiver for me a third time before I turned her over on her belly and took her from behind.

  She turns to look at me, so I get off the bed, not giving a fuck that I’m stark naked when I approach her. I frame her face between my hands and bend my head until our foreheads touch. “I’m not going to get shit done today thinking about what we did in here all night. You should be proud of yourself.”

  “Good thing you’ve finished B’s table then,” she whispers breathlessly, and I roll my eyes up toward the ceiling. Bailon had rushed me for weeks on the goddamn thing, and now he’s taking his time accepting delivery. Her words are a reminder that I need to call him today because—paid for or not—the table is taking up too much space in my workshop and I need it gone to fulfill more orders. When I tell her this, she bites her lip and shrugs.

  “But at least you’ve gotten more interest because he ordered the table.”

  The only new interest we’ve gotten from B’s group is that prick Andrew’s pathetic attempt to get close to Lucy. He came by the workshop a couple of days ago, claiming he wanted to discuss custom manacles. Even Daisy saw right through the façade, pointing out that he was obviously more interested in what my marketing director looked like without her black dress on than monogrammed cuffs.

  Telling Andrew that our schedule is booked out until May gave me a sickening amount of pleasure, especially because as I grinned at him, I knew exactly what was hiding beneath Lucy Williams’s clothes. I know every curve, every freckle, and every mark on her lush body—from the lime green ribbon tattooed on her shoulder blade to the scar on the inside of her left ankle—and all he got was a business card and a dismissive smile.

  “Right, well, I doubt Andrew’ll be ordering anytime soon,” I finally inform her. Not without getting a taste of you, and that’s never going to fucking happen.

  “His loss.”

  I back away from her slowly, laughing because her eyes zero in on my cock and widen. I wink just before grabbing my boxer briefs and jeans from the floor. After I’m partially dressed and my boots are on, I motion toward the doorway. “Come on. I’ll walk you to your car before I change my mind and find a way to get you out of those clothes again.”

  Resting my hand on the base of her spine as we leave the room, I’m about to drive her crazy by telling her what that little pulse she does with her cunt does to me, but I pause when the sound of machinery greets us. I whirl away from her, stunned to see Griff’s gaze when he lifts his faceguard.

  Christ, this isn’t going to be good.

  Griff turns the machine off, and the noise Lucy’s making tears at my chest. She’s whimpering, like a wounded animal, and I know this is the last thing she wanted to happen. I scrub my hand over my face and release low curse as I take a step toward Griff. “What the fuck are you looking at?” I demand, and his grin deepens.

  “Nothing. Nothing at all.” He shakes his head slowly, turning his body until he’s staring right at Lucy. From the frantic movement of her lips, I swear she’s praying for the floor to open up and swallow her. I’m wanting the same thing, but to Griff. “Shark,” he acknowledges her, and she straightens her spine.

  “Good morning, Griffin,” she squeaks in a small voice, turning her face from his.

  “You didn’t say anything about coming in so early,” I growl because the sun hasn’t even come up yet. If Griff had mentioned he planned to work early, I would have taken Lucy back t
o my place. I would’ve broken another one of my rules—fucking someone in my bed—just so she wouldn’t have to be humiliated.

  He leans against the workshop table and tilts his head to one side, sizing up the sight of Lucy in rumpled clothes and me without a shirt. “Didn’t think I had to.”

  Lucy releases a broken breath loud enough for only me to hear. When she looks up at me with pleading eyes, I step between them, shielding her from his view. “He’s not going to say anything, is he?” she asks weakly.

  “Fuck no,” I promise. “I’ll make sure of it.” As I warn Griff what will happen to his job and his kneecaps if he smears her name all over the office, she creeps off toward the exit. She’s almost at the blue door that’ll lead her out to her Jeep when he loudly clears his throat.

  “It’s seven, Shark,” Griff announces and she clenches the doorknob, banging her forehead against the cool metal surface. Fuck, I hate seeing her this upset, and I hate it even more because this all came to pass because I needed more of her. “You might as well just shower here and stick around now.”

  She looks over her shoulder, her hazel eyes darting from Griff to me until I finally lift my shoulders. “He’s got a point, love.”

  Casting a dark glare at him, she turns in the opposite direction of the workshop door and stalks toward the restroom at the back of the building. “If you say anything—” she starts tremulously. While I listen to her threaten to follow through on the promise she made him and Ash before my interview with Allene—and I’ve got every intention of asking what that threat was—I realize something that kicks me right in my stomach.

  I wouldn’t mind it if anyone knew about Lucy Williams and I.

  Not one fucking bit.

  TWENTY-ONE

  LUCY

  It doesn’t take me long to discover that despite his constant teasing, Griff is surprisingly good at keeping things to himself. While I expected everyone in the building to know that Lucy in Marketing is banging Mr. Extreme by the end of the day, nobody on the team approaches me. Even Griff himself doesn’t mention what he walked in on, and I’m grateful for that because I have enough keeping me up at night. Like the fact that my boss and I have slipped into something that’s just casual—something that’s bound to burn and break me if I can’t keep my emotions in check.

 

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