by Lauren Dane
'Great,' he rasped. 'Adorable. Just what every guy wants to hear when he's standing with his hands tied behind his back and a flagpole in the front.'
Leah laughed, the low throaty sound sending a thrill through him. 'You are gorgeous, but you know that, don't you?' She didn't wait for an answer. 'You've got those big, strong hands and those long, long legs.'
She stepped closer, running a hand from his knee and up his thigh to settle on his hip for a moment while she leaned in to rub her cheek along his chest.
'These sweet delicious nipples. Do you know how much I want to lick them?'
He hoped like all heck it was a question she didn't expect him to answer because, when she closed her mouth around one, he couldn't have said a word. Leah sucked gently on one nipple, then the other. The sensation went all the way to the soles of his feet with a pit stop at his balls.
When she bit down, gently but firmly, his hips bucked. His cock rubbed her soft, soft skin as her hands gripped his hips to keep them still. For an agonising moment he was sure he was going to embarrass himself by spurting all over her, but he managed to keep himself under control.
She stepped back. 'Nobody's ever done that either?'
'No.'
'But you like it.'
'Yes.' God, yes, he did.
Smiling, she leaned in to nuzzle his chest, kissing and licking and occasionally nipping her way down his body until she was on her knees in front of him. He must have looked surprised, because she laughed as she circled her fingers around the base of his prick again.
'Did you think I wouldn't want to taste you too?'
'I didn't -' He hadn't thought, couldn't think, couldn't do anything because she had taken him into the moist inferno of her mouth.
His instinct was to put his hands on her head, but he'd forgotten for the moment how she'd used his belt to tie him.
His arms jerked and Brandon moaned when he realised he couldn't do anything but take what she was giving.
Leah swallowed his dick, then drew back to suck gently on the head. One hand followed the path of her lips and tongue while the other cupped and stroked his balls.
Brandon bent his knees slightly to keep his balance, something unexpectedly more difficult without the free use of his arms.
'Spread your legs wider,' she murmured. 'Steady.'
He did and she engulfed him again. He'd had head before, but not like this. She didn't slobber or gobble or daintily treat his penis like something that might bite back. She made love to his erection without ignoring any part of it and, when her hand took over to stroke while her head dipped lower so she could tongue his balls, Brandon discovered he did believe in heaven, after all.
She lifted her face to him and got to her feet, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. 'You taste good.'
'Thank you,' he whispered, panting.
She yanked the chair from the desk and turned it around to face him. 'Sit.'
He sat, glad he hadn't fallen instead. Leah moved between his open thighs. Standing, her breasts were inches from his mouth. She cupped one and lifted it to his lips and he opened eagerly to suck the nipple between his lips.
He wanted to hear her moan, but her breath only rasped in her chest as he licked and sucked each nipple she fed him. Her hand moved between her legs. She shuddered.
He wanted to be the one making her shudder. 'Let me use my mouth on you. Please.'
Her free hand slid around the back of his neck to tangle in his hair. She tightened her grip. His erection jerked when she tugged.
'What did I tell you?' She shook her head, sounding stern but husky. 'I don't want you hurting yourself.'
'Sit on the desk. Pull the chair closer,' he said around his urgency.
Her gaze flicked that way, then back at him. 'How badly do you want to use your mouth on me?'
If he'd been able to use his hands he'd have taken hers and put it on his dick, but as it was he could only lick his mouth and hope she saw his need in his gaze.
'I want to feel you come again,' he said.
'Get up.'
He stood. She yanked the chair around again, closer to the desk, then pushed his shoulder so he sat as she hopped up on it. With her ass just resting on the edge and her legs spread, he could lean forwards to reach her.
She giggled when he did, and he paused. His gut had turned to hot lead, his dick was so hard it almost hurt and he kept having to forcefully remind himself not to breathe so fast or else he'd hyperventilate, and she was laughing?
Determined to wring more than a giggle from her, Brandon licked the seam of her pussy. Her laughter turned into a very satisfying moan, and then a strangled cry when he found her clit and sucked it gently. She was so wet already, so hot, when he thrust his tongue inside her he expected it to burn.
Incredibly, she was already coming. He felt the beat and pulse of each spasm on his lips as he kissed her pussy. She cried out and jerked when he licked her again and, mindful that it might be too much now, he didn't do it again. He kissed her though, softly, and looked up at her with a grin he knew was smug but he didn't care.
Panting, she looked down at him with glazed eyes. Her breasts heaved, her pretty nipples so tight he wanted them in his mouth again. She swallowed and drew in another, slower breath, then sat up.
'I'm going to call you Titanic,' she said.
He didn't know what to say.
'Because you're so good at going down,' she told him, and laughed again.
It was his turn for the laugh to become a groan when she whipped open the condom package and sheathed him before he even knew what she was doing. She must have had it hidden behind her. With a hand on his penis to guide it inside her but her eyes never leaving his, Leah straddled him and sat on his lap.
They were face to face again, though the chair and the floor under his feet made it easier to move inside her than the bed had. Not that he had to move at all, because she rode him. Her hands dug into his shoulders as she pushed off the floor to lift and lower herself. Faster. Harder.
The chair creaked.
She cried out.
Her cunt clutched at his cock and he wasn't going to hold back much longer. Leah kissed him, her tongue stabbing into his mouth in the same rhythm as his penis inside her. She broke the kiss with a gasp to look into his eyes, her pupils wide and dark.
He was going to come. It boiled up from his balls, surging, that inevitable feeling of flying and falling, the clutching tightness in his gut that suddenly let free.
With a tug she loosened the belt from his wrists and he put his arms around her. They clung to each other, rocking the chair back on two legs as she pushed and he thrust and they both came together, shuddering and shouting at the same time.
Leah had buried her face in his shoulder. Brandon could only hold her, the sweet weight of her on his lap like something precious he wouldn't give up. She shivered and he stroked a hand down her back. She shivered again, her shoulders quivering.
She was crying.
Oh, no.
'Leah?' He pushed her gently but held her in place so there was no way she could fall back. 'What's wrong?'
She wasn't sobbing, but tears filled those beautiful blue eyes and spilled down her cheeks. She swiped at them and tried to get off his lap, but he tightened his arms around her and refused to let her. She fought for a second before relaxing.
'Nothing's wrong,' she said.
'Then why are you crying?'
She shook her head as though she had no answer. Yet something was wrong, clearly. Something she might not want to say. So he did the only thing he could think of to do.
He kissed her.
'I -' she said, her gaze naked and the tears still glimmering there.
Before she could finish, someone pounded on the door.
29
Brandon looked startled, then guilty, and Leah realised it was still only early evening on a day he was supposed to be working. She swiped her eyes quickly and got off Brandon's lap. By the time she g
rabbed up her robe and tossed it on, she'd wrestled herself under control.
She couldn't believe she'd cried. What a fool. But it had all been so overwhelming, so emotionally . . . not devastating.
Fulfilling. Ecstatic. She'd always prided herself on being able to keep a tight hold on her emotions, but it had been too much. He'd given her too much and she wasn't ready for it.
'Go into the bathroom,' she said quietly as she tied her robe around her waist.
Brandon looked at her without moving for a minute, then got up and went into the bathroom without another word. Leah lifted her chin and set her jaw. He could be angry, now?
Clutching her robe closed at the throat, she opened the door. She expected to see Kate maybe, or a housekeeper. Improbably but possibly even Dix.
The man on the other side of the door looked as though he hadn't slept in days. About three, to be exact. Shadow stubbled his lean jaw and hollowed cheeks, but it was a fashionable scruff. There was nothing trendy about the circles under his eyes though.
'Mike,' Leah said wearily. 'What the hell are you doing here?'
'I had to see you.'
'How did you even know what room I'm in?' If the front desk had told him, she was going to have to complain.
'I tipped the maid.'
She sighed, shaking her head, and didn't move aside to let him in. 'She could lose her job for that, Mike, if I make a fuss.'
'I don't care.' The stubborn set to his jaw was entirely too familiar. 'I had to see you.'
'You don't care. You never care about anything but what you want.' Leah sighed and rubbed the spot between her eyes.
'Are you going to let me in?' His tone had changed, gone softer. Wheedling. This, like his set jaw, was also too familiar.
Leah didn't mean to glance towards the closed bathroom door, but couldn't stop her gaze from going there briefly before she looked at Mike. 'No.'
Mike put his hand up on the door jamb and leaned just like he thought he was in an ad for GQ magazine. 'C'mon, Lee-lee. Let me in.'
'Don't call me that, Mike. Go away. I told you, it's over. I have nothing to say to you.'
He inched closer. She was tempted to slam the door in his face, but didn't. She stood up higher though, and looked him in the eye, which seemed to surprise him.
'You can't really mean it.' He reached to toy with the collar of her silky robe and let his fingers run down all the way to the tie at her waist. He seemed distracted by the hint of cleavage and expanse of thigh the robe showed off, or maybe he was simply unable to meet her gaze.
'I do really mean it.' She softened her tone and waited until he looked up at her. 'I do.'
She'd been trying to be nice. It proved to be the wrong tactic. He honed in at once, not on her words, but on her voice. Typical, she thought, watching the gleam in his eyes. Still only paying attention to what he wanted, not what she offered.
'Nobody else can make you feel the way I do.' Mike moved closer, confident now when it seemed she was giving in.
Her laughter set him back a step. 'Oh, I'm convinced of that.'
She knew him too well to believe he understood what she meant. All he heard was acquiescence. She sighed when he rallied and pushed past her into the room.
She didn't cower or shrink from him, just watched him strut into the centre of the room as though he owned it. He looked around, his gaze catching sight of the chair and the discarded belt. His head whipped around, his eyes narrowing and lips thinning. His strut turned to a stalk and he snatched the belt up from where she'd tossed it after pulling it from Brandon's wrists.
At home, in the house she'd bought but of which he'd claimed himself king, Mike brandishing a leather strap would have meant she'd have dropped to her knees, eyes downcast, hands in her lap. He was a big fan of ritual and pomp, of terms such as 'master' and 'slave' and fetish wear. It had been fun at first, all the little tricks and details he'd taught her. She hadn't known in the beginning his education had come from pulpy porn novels and internet chat rooms. Only after she'd done her own research into a world for which she'd always yearned but hadn't believed really existed did she discover so much of Mike's sexplay and BDSM experience was cookie cutter and surface only.
'You've been a very bad girl,' he said and, incredibly, gave her a leer. Leah didn't move when he crossed to her and grabbed at her wrist. 'Why don't you let me give you what you deserve?'
When he took her hand and put it on his crotch, Leah didn't even give her next action a second thought. She squeezed. And squeezed. And then some more.
'Shall we play a little game?' she said conversationally, keeping her tone light. Bored even. 'I'm sure you've heard of CBT, Mike? Since you are the master and all.'
He grunted, face paling, but didn't squirm away from her.
'Cock and ball torture,' Leah continued with another, harder squeeze. 'Are you into it?'
Mike gasped, 'No.'
Leah let him go. 'Me neither. When I said it was over, I meant it. Please go.'
Mike straightened, both hands going to his crotch to rub and rub. He swallowed hard, cheeks still pale underneath the stubble. He didn't go though, and she was just about ready to get angry when his sad small voice stopped her.
'But . . . why?'
A small sound from the bathroom reminded her they weren't alone. Brandon was probably stewing in the bathroom and Mike wanted an explanation why she'd ended nearly two years of what must have been domestic bliss for him? Leah didn't have the energy.
'I thought you loved me,' Mike said.
Oh, shit.
'Mike . . .' Leah couldn't even continue. 'Mike, listen . . .'
He shook his head and straightened up. 'How long have you been fucking him?'
The accusation startled her into asking, 'Who?'
He shook the belt at her. 'Whoever this belongs to!'
'None of your business,' she began, and he cut her off.
'You sure as hell didn't waste any time, did you? It's that punk kid, isn't it? That twink?'
Leah had never felt threatened by Mike. Their games had been played and she'd played a part she'd thought she wanted, but she'd never really worried he'd hurt her. He was selfish, self-absorbed and arrogant, but he wasn't abusive. So now, when he fisted the belt in his hand and moved towards her, she didn't flinch.
She laughed.
Mostly it was because the thought of him calling Brandon a twink - a twink? Wasn't a twink some sort of hairless-chihuahuawith-hands type of boy? Brandon was so far removed from being a twink all she could do was shake her head and chuckle.
'It is him!' Mike scowled.
'It's none of your business, Mike,' she cried. 'Now get the hell out of here! And, by the way, I didn't love you.'
'Lying bitch!'
She merely shrugged, refusing to give him the satisfaction of an answer.
With a growl, Mike slapped Brandon's belt across his open palm, hard.
The bathroom door flung open. Leah and Mike both turned. Brandon, a towel wrapped around his waist and one fist keeping it closed, didn't even give Mike a chance to yelp before he had the other fist wrapped in the front of Mike's shirt. Mike didn't exactly dangle in Brandon's grip –that would have made it a movie-perfect moment –but he did stumble while Brandon held him upright.
'Get the fuck out of here,' Brandon said in a voice as deep and dark as the bottom of a lake.
He'd said 'fuck'.
Leah's knees went weak.
Mike seemed to be having the same problem, because he fell over his own feet when Brandon shoved him back. He dropped the belt. The buckle clinked on the floor. Mike gave Leah a sneering, angry look, but Brandon had already grabbed Mike's upper arm without waiting and marched him to the door.
He let go of the towel to open the door and pushed Mike through it. The towel fell over the door jamb and into the hall, but Brandon didn't bother picking it up. Bare-assed, he tossed Mike out after it, then shut the door firmly and turned to her.
Leah had watched this
all with a little gasp, her cheeks flushing. She'd put a hand over her mouth to hold back the flurry of semi-hysterical giggles threatening to fly out. Without saying anything to her, Brandon pushed past her and found his clothes. She turned as he pulled up his briefs with a snap of the elastic and bent for his trousers.
'Brandon,' she said, but stopped herself when he held up a hand.
He wouldn't look at her. Even in profile, he looked pissed. He grabbed up his pants and shook them out, not paying attention to the jangle of change as a few quarters and pennies flew out on to the carpet.