Follow Me Under

by HELEN HARDT

  His gaze darkens. “Because I’m watching her.”

  My skin grows cold, as if it’s been flash frozen like those chicken breasts at Sam’s Club.

  “I’ve been watching Addison for years,” he says. “She’s intelligent and cunning, but she does have a weakness.”

  I lift my eyebrows in question.

  “Her vanity,” he says. “Her need for attention.”

  “She’s a hotel heiress. She’s had everything given to her since she was born. Of course she’s vain.”

  “True, and when she feels those things are threatened, she strikes.”

  “Why? Why did she strike against you?”

  “You’re as intelligent as she is, Skye. More so, in my opinion. You can answer the question yourself.”

  He’s right. I nod. “She wanted you. I know the story, Braden. Parts of it, at least. She pursued you relentlessly and you began by rejecting her. But you eventually didn’t reject her, and that’s what led to—”

  “You’re getting perilously close to the line, Skye. I will not talk about these things.”

  “If you don’t talk about them, what choice do I have but to find the information somewhere else?”

  He shakes his head, scoffing. “My God, you will drive me to an early grave. You sit there, looking so delectable… Trying my patience…” He rakes his fingers through his gorgeous hair. “You have the choice to trust me, Skye. You have the choice to let this go.”

  I sigh. I want to fight back, find fault with his words. But I can’t. He’s right. What happened between him and Addison has nothing to do with him and me. The fact that Addie and I have a history also has nothing to do with him and me, other than that I probably wouldn’t have met him but for Addison.

  “You gave up your control to me in the bedroom. I need you to give up your control in this situation as well. As long as you insist on pressing me about Addison, there will always be an issue of trust between us. I won’t be in a relationship with a woman who does not trust me.”

  I nod. He’s right. I have to give up this fact-finding mission.

  If I don’t, I could lose the man I love.

  The only problem? It goes against my inquisitive nature. It goes against my controlling nature.

  “I’ll try, Braden.”

  “Trying means nothing. You either do or you don’t. Are you going to give up on this ridiculous quest for information? Or aren’t you?”

  I know which answer will get me into Braden’s bed. Braden’s bed is where I want to be. Already, his controlling nature is washing over me, making me hot, making me wet.

  But if Braden thinks I can just give up on any quest for information, he doesn’t know me very well. Any answer I give him won’t matter. Because he knows me, and he knows the truth.

  “Yes,” I say, smiling. “I can give it up. I can try, at least.”

  Braden returns my smile.

  “I see,” he finally says. Then he stands.

  He walks out from behind his desk and stands over me, like a tall mountain shielding me from the sun.

  “Stand up,” he commands.

  I part my lips and obey him.

  “God, those lips.” His voice is raspy again. “I’ve told you how sexy you look in that leather thing.”

  “It’s a bustier,” I say, being careful not to stammer as he eyes me like I’m candy.

  “You’ve seen me rip a dress to shreds before.”

  I nod.

  “I don’t think my fingers are strong enough to take on leather.”

  I nod again.

  “So I’ll ask you to do it.” He turns to his desk, picks up a pair of scissors, and hands them to me.

  I drop my mouth into an O. I just paid two hundred bucks for this bustier. No way am I going to cut it off myself.

  “Take them, Skye.”

  “Braden, I—”

  “I said, take them.”

  My hand shakes as I reach forward and grasp the scissors. The steel is cool against my warm palm.

  “Be careful,” he says. “Don’t nick your creamy skin.”

  I’m trembling. Truly trembling. I’m not sure I trust myself to have the scissors anywhere near my skin at the moment.

  “Do you trust me, Skye?”

  I hesitantly nod.

  “Then give me the scissors.”

  I shakily hand them back to him. He grins and tucks the scissors above my navel, right onto the beautiful black leather.

  I close my eyes. I can’t help it. I love this bustier, and I paid a lot of money for it only hours ago.

  “Open your eyes,” he commands, his voice dark and forceful.

  I hesitate.

  “Now.”

  My eyes pop open, almost solely from the dark force in his voice.

  “Watch my hands, Skye.”

  I drop my gaze to his hands holding the scissors. He squeezes his fingers to his thumb, cutting a two-inch slice into the leather. I can’t help myself. I suck in a breath. My beautiful bustier will be in shreds before I know it. Two hundred dollars down the drain.

  “Why is this so difficult for you?” he asks.

  “Because I just bought it. I bought it to look sexy for you.”

  “And you do look sexy. Just like you looked sexy in that little black dress. And it turns me on to no end to cut this off you.” He lowers his eyelids and inhales. “I’m hard as a rock, Skye. I’m angry as hell with you, but I want you so badly, I can’t see straight.” He slices another inch into the leather. “Do you have any idea what you do to me? I’ve never been so completely angry with someone and yet so turned on by her at the same time. You make me question things. Not just about myself but about life. It’s…disorienting.”

  Disorienting? He’s disoriented while he has scissors against my flesh?

  Trust him.

  “I never wanted a relationship,” he continues, “but from the first time I saw you, scrambling to pick up a condom off the floor, your cheeks red with embarrassment, I wanted to fuck you. I hoped one fuck would get you out of my system, but I think we both know how that turned out.” He slices another inch.

  The steel blades are cool against the warm flesh of my abdomen. And I find, to my complete and utter surprise, that I’m getting even more turned on.

  “I don’t like feeling disoriented, Skye. Not at all. But somehow, I fell in love with you anyway. I had no intention to, but I did.” He slices again, coming close to my breasts.

  “Braden…”

  He meets my gaze, his blue eyes on fire. “This is my time, Skye. My time to be in control. Don’t speak again until I tell you to.”

  My flesh is smoldering. Even the cool blades of the scissors spark heat in me. My nipples harden and push against the leather binding them. I flash back to the nipple clamps and then to Braden’s lips firm around them.

  “I’m going to fuck you in here, Skye. In my home office. And I’ve never fucked a woman in here. Never even wanted to. But I want to fuck you, and I want to do it now.” The scissors slice up between my breasts, and the bustier falls onto the carpeted floor.

  I feel no loss. Not now. Sure, my two hundred bucks are gone, but my breasts have been freed. They’re already swollen and ruddy, the nipples jutting out for Braden’s mouth.

  Still, one thought flies through my mind. He says he’s never fucked a woman in this home office.

  Has he fucked other women at his work office?

  My thoughts fly to the afternoon, me with a knee on Braden’s leather chair, grabbing his tie and making him kiss me.

  Then his dick inside me, tantalizing me…

  But no climax.

  He didn’t let me climax.

  Will he let me tonight?

  “Skye?” he says.

  I say nothing.

  “You ma
y speak just this once.”

  “What?”

  He raises one eyebrow. “You look inquisitive.”

  “It’s…nothing.”

  “Tell me.”

  “I just wondered…” If you were going to let me come tonight. No, I don’t want to say that. Not now. “If you’ve ever made love to a woman in your other office. Other than me, that is.”

  He meets my gaze. “Yes, I have.”

  His answer isn’t unexpected, but still it catches me off guard.

  “Oh.”

  His expression is unreadable. “Does that disappoint you?”

  “Of course it disappoints me.” I keep myself from huffing like a jealous schoolgirl. He’s much older than I am. Of course he’s had sex with other women in his office. Why should that surprise me?

  “You know you’re not my first fuck, Skye.”

  “I know that. It’s just… Shit. I don’t know.”

  “I just told you I’ve never fucked anyone in this home office.”

  “I know. And I’ve totally ruined the moment, haven’t I?”

  “No”—his voice darkens—“you haven’t.”

  Chapter Seven

  “Take off the rest of your clothes,” he says, “and then bend over the desk. Don’t say a word.”

  I don’t hesitate even for a millisecond. The jeans, shoes, and socks—the same ones I wore this afternoon in his business office—come off quickly.

  Just the thought of that afternoon delight gets my body throbbing and ready.

  Braden, of course, is still dressed. Seems to be his MO, and for some reason that I haven’t quite figured out, I like being naked while he’s still fully clothed. It sets my whole body on fire, forces my nipples to harden further, and makes my clit pulsate.

  “You haven’t bent over the desk,” he reminds me.

  I turn and obey him, leaning over the cool mahogany. Soon my body heat warms the wood.

  “You look delectable,” he says. “Utterly delectable.”

  Silk touches one of my wrists. He isn’t wearing a tie. Where did it come from? The thought flees in two seconds because I don’t care. He’s going to bind me again, which means I won’t be able to touch my clit. Am I still being punished?

  “Braden…”

  “Quiet,” he says. “From here on, you don’t speak again until I say you can.”

  I nod and close my eyes, laying my head on the desk.

  A few seconds pass, and then Braden’s warm body pushes against mine. He’s taken off his shirt, and the feel of his warm chest on my back soothes me. Makes me want him even more.

  Then his warm fingertips slide over my shoulder, down my side, to my ass. He moves upward then, swirling his fingers over my ass cheeks and then between them.

  “You realize this body belongs to me. All of it. Even this.” He pushes against my asshole.

  I gasp sharply. He’s talked about anal sex before, in fact even used a butt plug on me, but not in my ass.

  “Don’t worry,” he says. “We won’t go there tonight. Not until you’re ready.”

  I breathe out a sigh of relief even as a wave of disappointment flows through me.

  “I want you to relax, Skye. I’m going to eat your pussy now. I’m going to stick my face between your ass cheeks and lick every bit of sweetness out of you.”

  Sounds perfect. I let out a low moan. Then his tongue is between my legs, and he’s lapping like a cat drinking cream. He licks my folds, seeming to deliberately ignore my clit, and then shoves his tongue inside me. A mini fuck with his mouth. My legs tremble, but my weight is on the desk, so they don’t falter.

  I begin climbing the peak, knowing full well I won’t get to the top unless he lets me. Still, what he’s doing to me feels amazing. His warm tongue slides over my pussy, and then—

  I gasp when he slides it over my ass.

  I like it.

  It’s different, and I like it. I know then that Braden will take me there someday. Not today, not tomorrow, but someday…and the idea thrills me.

  His tongue leaves my flesh then, and I whimper at the loss. He replaces it with his finger, smoothing it along the crease between my ass cheeks.

  “There’s something very special about anal sex, Skye. There’s the intimacy, of course, and the trust. Both of those things make it special, but there’s something else that goes beyond intimacy and trust. You know what that is?”

  He hasn’t technically told me I can speak, so I simply try to shake my head against the hardness of the desk.

  “It’s taboo,” he says. “Forbidden. And that’s why I crave it. I love the forbidden, Skye.”

  I tremble, my cheek and chest sticking to the wood.

  “Are you…frightened?”

  I shake my head—as well as I can while it’s pressed against a desk—but I’m not convincing myself, which automatically means I’m not convincing Braden.

  “I will never force you to do anything,” he says.

  I open my mouth to tell him that I know that, but then I close it abruptly. He hasn’t told me I can speak.

  “Good girl.”

  His voice is warm now. I imagine him smiling.

  He pushes his tongue against my asshole once more while he thrusts two fingers inside my pussy.

  Damn. So close. I push my pelvis against the hard wood of his desk, desperately seeking some sort of stimulation for my clit.

  To no avail.

  Braden seems determined that I won’t come tonight. He’s also determined to keep driving me to the brink, to make me wild. It’s working. I’m ripe and hot and so ready to come. I squeeze my eyes closed, trying to revel in the moment, to enjoy what he’s doing to my body without wishing for an orgasm.

  “You have an amazing pussy,” he says. “I can’t get enough of it. Your intoxicating flavor, the softness, the pinkish purple color. And God, the wetness. It’s all so beautiful.”

  I want to answer him. I want to tell him how beautiful he is, too. Then I want to beg for a climax. But I don’t. He hasn’t given me permission to speak.

  Which, though it bothers me, also makes me feel something contrary to what it should.

  Relieved?

  Perfect?

  What exactly do I feel when I surrender my control to Braden, the man I love?

  Liberated. I feel fucking liberated.

  Which makes no sense, since I’ve given up control.

  I close my eyes, reveling in his fingers and tongue sweeping over my most private parts. Then he stops. Abruptly stops, but somewhere in the haze of my emotion, I hear his belt clinking, his zipper unzipping.

  Then he’s inside me, pumping, pumping, pumping…

  Taking me with the part of his body that gives me the most intense pleasure I’ve ever known. He pushes hard, thrusts harder, and finally my clit collides against the wood, beginning to create what I need—

  Until he grips my hips and pulls me forward, preventing the friction I crave so badly.

  He’s still determined. Determined not to let me have a climax.

  I whimper, and I moan. It’s a loss I feel deeply, yet still he’s inside me, filling me, completing me.

  And he does complete me. He completes me so well.

  I love you, Braden.

  The words whiz through my head, landing in the back of my throat, wanting so desperately to spring forth.

  I hold them back. I cannot force them out. His will over me is that strong.

  His control over me no longer frightens me. No. Now, as I delight in each thrust, I realize the truth.

  I desire his control. I fucking yearn for it. As contrary as it sounds, I find freedom in it.

  Finally he releases, falling onto my bare back and groaning. A drip of sweat from his forehead trickles down my neck.

  He holds himse
lf in place for a moment, and I revel in our joining.

  When he withdraws, he caresses both globes of my ass. “Every time with you is better than the last, Skye. Every damned time.”

  I nod. He still hasn’t given me permission to speak.

  “I have so many plans for us. Now that you’ve given me control in the darkness. But I also need your trust.”

  I do trust you. I wouldn’t have been able to give up control if I didn’t.

  But again, the words stay in my head.

  He hasn’t given me permission to speak.

  I can play this game as well as he does. I will not speak until he tells me I may, which means he also won’t get the full surrender he’s seeking.

  Normally, he lets me speak by now. Has he forgotten his command? Doesn’t matter. I will not speak.

  “I never planned to fall in love,” he says after a minute, his voice rumbling against my skin. “I don’t have time for love, Skye. I probably won’t be the kind of boyfriend you need or deserve. And of course, marriage is always out of the question.”

  Something squeezes my heart. Marriage? I’m twenty-four. I haven’t given marriage a thought, but of course, somewhere in the back of my head, I figured I’d get married someday.

  A sense of loss fills me. Do I want to marry Braden? His statement leaves a lump in my throat.

  Still, I don’t speak despite my desire to begin an argument about marriage.

  We haven’t known each other long. Marriage is far in the future anyway. Still, I’d like to think it’s an eventual possibility.

  I swallow the words and feelings and stay quiet.

  “You may get dressed now,” Braden says as he stands.

  His warmth leaves me, and coolness drifts over my back. I rise from my position on the desk. My hips are stiff from staying bent over for so long.

  My bustier is useless shreds of leather now. But I don the rest of my clothes. Now what? He still hasn’t given me permission to speak, so I’m adamant.

  I will not speak.

  I wait.

  I wait for his instructions, but instead of giving me any, he zips up his pants and buckles his belt. Stoic Braden has returned. Will he kick me out?

  No, he won’t. He told me he would never kick me out of his place again, and I can’t see Braden breaking a promise, short of ending our relationship altogether.