by ANDREA SMITH
Easton’s attention, along with his hands and lips were back on me.
“That’s my girl,” he said softly. “Such a beautiful ass and such a hungry pussy, too.”
I felt the head of his cock as it teased the outside of my slit. His fingers were still probing my G-Spot which was, once again, engorged as I arched my back instinctively, wanting to receive his shaft deeply. He entered me slowly. I felt his hard, fullness as he continued, his hand guiding his erection more fully into me.
“How does that feel, love? Huh? Are you ready to take it all?”
“Umm, yes,” I whimpered, my hips now rotating at the pleasure that was spreading through my body. I could feel myself expand for him as he thrust himself deeper inside, his moan of pleasure was enough to make me come right then, but I fought back. I wanted more of this.
He then quickly flexed his hips, forcing himself all the way in as I cried out. He continued pulling out and plunging in and it was pure ecstasy with each and every stroke.
“God, I need it harder,” I groaned.
Did I really just say that?!
He obliged, backing out and slamming back into me, the ridge around the head of his cock rubbing my sweet spot over and over again until I thought I’d explode.
“Fuck, your pussy’s a gripper,” he said, moaning and thrusting over and over. I could feel my muscles tightening around his girth, not wanting to release him.
“You’re going to milk me dry, love,” he rasped, his hands now planted firmly on my hips as he rocked in and out of me. He reached a hand around front, his fingers finding my neglected clit. He massaged it between his fingers, bringing me to the crest of complete, carnal pleasure.
“I need to come,” I gasped. “Make me come now, please?”
He buried himself deeply and rocked his hips back and forth causing repeated stroking of my sweet spot, while his fingers pressed a bit harder on my clit.
I…was…coming…apart.
I felt myself squeeze his shaft as the pleasurable contractions released, milking him with a vengeance as he moaned my first name over and over again. He shuddered and I felt the stillness before the storm as the throbbing of his erection released his explosive climax within me. My clitoral orgasm peaked at that moment as I cried out his name, biting my lip and tasting blood but feeling nothing but pleasure over and over again.
When we were able to catch our breath, Easton was still inside of me. He grasped me to him, pulling me up against him, his warm lips kissing the back of my neck as his fingers moved my hair aside. I shivered against him, my post-O skin very sensitive.
“Cold?”
I managed to shake my head. Lining my body with his behind me, I said in a slightly hoarse voice, “I want more.”
chapter 12
I rolled over in bed, the top sheet tangled around my legs, preventing me from seeing the clock on the nightstand. I reached down, untangling it and noticed I was in bed alone. The digital clock read 5:34 a.m. I was still naked beneath the sheets. Where in the hell was Easton?
I’d only been asleep for a couple of hours, but I hadn’t heard or felt him leave the bed. Probably because, true to his promise, he’d worn my ass out. My God!…The delicious things that man had done to me. And there wasn’t a shadow of doubt in my mind that Easton was one of those hands-on men, which I was starting to realize, may just be my favorite kind.
I’d never been in so many different positions! I’d mentally thanked my mother for forcing those three years of gymnastic lessons on me during my adolescence. I definitely wasn’t complaining, though. I could literally say that I’d never been so thoroughly fucked…and fucked well, I’d like to add.
There hadn’t been much talking between the two of us once he’d led me out of the suite’s living room and into his bedroom. Well, I mean other than the dirty sex talk and moaning from the both of us. Easton just might’ve spoiled me for others. Still, when we finally reached exhaustion, it was evident Easton wasn’t one to spoon or cuddle as we fell asleep. That was fine by me. This was a purely physical adventure and he was free to make the rules, as long as I continued getting the mind-blowing O’s. I seriously felt a blush coming on as I recalled some of the things he’d done to me…the instructions he’d given me, and the discipline when I hadn’t complied in the manner to which he expected. Enough of the blushing, I needed my morning java.
Shit! Is this where I should just get dressed and go?
I scrambled up and out of his bed, instantly feeling shockwaves of pain from the vicinity of my ass. It was my own damn fault. I was snatching the various items of my clothing up from the floor and pulling them on. I contemplated leaving him a note, but what the hell would I write?
Thanks for the great fuckfest? You’d better not have left bruises—LOL? Where’d you get those rocking handcuffs?
Nope. A note wasn’t going to be left by me. It wouldn’t be appropriate under the circumstances. He hadn’t bothered to leave a note for me. Hell, for all I knew, he might’ve checked out already. Doubtful. All his shit was still tossed about the room. Besides, Darcy Nicole Sheridan had rocked his world every bit as much in that bed last night as he’d rocked mine. To hell with social graces, I thought, searching for my boots. Once I’d pulled them on, I grabbed my handbag, noticing the folded up piece of paper I’d stuck in there with my sexual history written down on it.
I pulled it out and placed it on the nightstand next to his bed. There. I wasn’t completely remiss about social graces.
I hurried out of his suite to the elevator. All I could think about was getting home and spending the rest of the day curled up in my nice, soft bed.
As soon as I slid the card key into my hotel room door, I was startled to see a very pissed-off-and-not-trying-to-hide-it Eli, his arms folded, glaring at me.
“I’m sorry,” I said right away. “I meant to call you.”
He blew out a hard breath. “Do you realize you worried the shit out of me? I thought you might be lying in some dumpster somewhere. I haven’t slept all fucking night!”
“Oh for crying out loud, you knew where I was and what I was up to.”
“Not to mention the fact that I’ve been blowing your phone up, too. I was getting ready to go up and bang on the door of his fancy suite.”
“I’m sorry, Eli. I had my phone shut off. I mean, you had to figure I’d be spending the night with him. What a fucking night at that,” I gushed, smiling.
He raised an eyebrow at the accidental pun.
“Do you know what you’re getting yourself into here?” I could tell Eli was genuinely concerned about me, but I wasn’t too sure if that meant it was my judgment or Easton’s motives that were up for the jury.
“Hey, I’m fine, okay? You need to chill out because you’re starting to sound a lot like someone who just needs some Midol and a Nicholas Sparks movie-marathon.”
He shot me a wry look. “Ha—you’re funny when you’ve got fresh sex in your system. I’ll have to jot that down and hang it on the fridge when we get home so that I’ll remember.”
“Look,” he said with a sigh, running his hands through his hair, “I just worry about you, Darce. Not even fourteen hours ago, I thought we’d be having a completely different conversation right about now about this guy. You were supposed to show up at the door just like you did, except you’d be holding a shovel, your hands and clothes covered with dirt, and you’d be giving me that ‘I didn’t know what to do with the body’ look.”
“So, how’d your night go?” I asked, abruptly changing the subject. I could already tell that this wasn’t a conversation I was going to win with my overprotective friend and roommate. “Did you and Cain hook up?”
He narrowed his eyes at the not-so-graceful segue, but relented. “We did,” he admitted, with a hint of a smile. “Although, God knows I couldn’t fully enjoy the experience, being worried about you like I was.”
“Okay, lay some guilt on me why don’t you, Mom!”
I teased. “So, it was all good for both of us then, right? We both had a weekend hook-up, not too shabby at all.”
“Well, I’d like to think it’s a bit different with Maddox and me,” he said, as he started stuffing clothing into his duffel bag.
“How so?” I asked, gathering my toiletries from the bathroom.
“I actually think he’s relationship material.”
“Okay, Eli,” I sighed. “Point well taken. I’m not looking for a relationship. I was merely looking to get laid, and I did. And quite well, I’d like to add.”
“Ah, so that explains why you’re walking funny.”
“Walking funny?” I asked, stalling for time.
“Yeah, like you got a cob up your ass.”
“Very funny,” I smirked, “Just been awhile, you know?”
God that was lame…
“Whatever,” he replied. “Are we ready to check out or do you want to order room service and get some breakfast?”
“Seriously, all I want to do is go home and crawl into my bed and sleep the day away. It’s back to work tomorrow, so we can’t be dragging ass.”
“Ummhmm, especially yours,” he commented, grabbing my luggage for me.
chapter 13
~ Easton ~
I returned to my suite a little before 6 a.m. from my morning workout. I always work out for an hour or more starting at 4:30 a.m. I’d expected to see Darcy still sleeping in my bed, but it was empty, much to my dismay. After checking the rest of my suite, it was obvious the little minx had deserted my company. It perturbed me for some reason. I generally decided when it was time for the woman to leave my bed or leave my presence entirely. This one had slipped through the cracks and I wasn’t at all sure that I’d wanted her gone just yet.
I still had today and most of tomorrow left before I flew back to New York. I’d set up a last-minute business meeting with the CEO of a local corporation that was a good prospect for an acquisition or merger. It might’ve been nice to have enjoyed more romping with Darcy today. She definitely was not a ‘Nicole.’ Last night had proven that to me. There was nothing fragile or shy about this one. I saw a folded up piece of paper on the nightstand. Maybe she’d been thoughtful enough to leave a note or a “Thank You” for the pleasure I’d given her over and over again last night. I picked it up, unfolding it and saw that it was the scribbled sexual history I’d requested.
I smiled as I read through it. She’d answered it honestly, which pleased me immensely. Of course, I’d already had all of this information prior to her crossing over the threshold into my suite last night. Colin had provided me with a full dossier on Darcy Nicole Sheridan after I’d returned to my room last evening.
As I glanced at the rumpled sheets on the bed, my mind drifted to the exquisite night spent with Darcy. I was doubtful she’d be at 100% today, or tomorrow for that matter. I smiled, as I leaned over and picked up the purple leather rose crop from the edge of the bed, tapping it against the palm of my hand, recalling how delectable her ass had looked on the receiving end of it. She’d become so fucking wet after that and she’d come so hard. It delighted me to see just how much she enjoyed the rough play of the previous night. Once again, I found myself amazed at her sense of adventure. Darcy had left the leather bustier behind in her rush to take leave this morning. It was either that or perhaps she was simply ashamed of the way she’d taken to my sexual idiosyncrasies. I doubted she’d be sharing any of the details with her gay friend or Lindsey anytime soon.
I chuckled audibly, smacking the crop against my hand. Darcy had learned quickly that punishment didn’t have to mean pain. Perhaps this one wouldn’t bore me straight away like the others had. My cock twitched in anticipation of our next encounter. I was hoping it would be sooner rather than later.
I guess I’d simply shower and work from my suite today. I needed the rest.
On Monday at 1 p.m., I found myself sitting across the table from Mr. Martin Sheridan, quickly making an assessment of his business savvy. Colin had provided me all the biographical and financial data on him, as well as his company. The man had grown his business substantially over the past twenty-five years. It would make a nice addition to the Baronton Holdings portfolio. My job here was to convince him it was time to sell.
“I appreciate your agreeing to this meeting on such short notice, Mr. Sheridan,” I said, taking a sip of mineral water. “I know when we spoke in Belize a couple of months back, you indicated you weren’t thinking of selling your company for another three years or so. I’m here today hoping to change your mind.”
Martin Sheridan was a somewhat laid-back man in his early sixties with salt and pepper hair, moustache, and very well-groomed. He gave me a nod. “Please call me Martin,” he said, digging into his pasta salad.
“Martin, it is then,” I replied. “Please call me Easton.”
“Well, Easton, as I mentioned in Belize when you inquired about my firm, the reason I don’t want to sell immediately is actually because of my daughter, Darcy. You see, she’s fresh out of college, now working as a management trainee. I’d intended on grooming her to eventually take over the business. As it stands, I’m not sure three years is enough time, or if there ever will be enough time to make that happen,” he said, shaking his head in irritation. I sat back, reading his body language. He was obviously showing signs of frustration with his beautiful, sexy, likes-to-be-spanked daughter.
“Yes sir, I completely understand and respect your rationale on that matter. Is your daughter interested in a career path at Sheridan and Associates?” I was subtly digging for more information. Perhaps Darcy was feeling pressured to follow in her father’s footsteps.
“Who the hell knows?” he snorted, half-smiling. “She says she is. I mean, she’s 22 years-old, and I know these days that’s still considered practically a teenager. However, I can tell you this, when I was that age I had a helluva lot more responsibility and work ethic than what she’s exhibiting. Take this morning for example,” he continued. “She breezes into the office more than thirty minutes late, gimping around like she’d injured herself. God only knows what the girl was doing all weekend. I guess it’s better she no longer lives at home. At least now, Denise and I are spared the worry we had when she lived under our own roof. Darcy has a bit of a wild streak. Her mother and I desperately hope it’s something she’ll outgrow eventually.”
Certainly not anytime soon, I hope.
“I can imagine,” I replied in a serious tone. It was obvious Darcy stuck to her own agenda and it was pissing her old man off royally.
“Don’t get me wrong. I mean, she’s our baby girl, and Denise and I have spoiled her rotten. I suppose that’s why I want to stick around long enough to undo some of the damage we’ve done, if you know what I mean. The girl’s smart as hell, she just needs some self-discipline and guidance, someone to take a firmer approach with her development. Her mother and I seem to have neglected that aspect of it during her formative years.”
He put his fork down, wiped his mouth and laughed. “I’m ashamed to admit this, but for the life of me, I can’t recall ever having spanked the girl, not even as a toddler.”
“Do tell?”
“Darcy was a bit unexpected for us, having tried for years to conceive, we simply felt it would never happen, so you can imagine how thrilled we were at her late arrival. I suppose Denise and I overcompensated for her being the only child and discipline was a stranger to our home where she was concerned. Still, I don’t think it’s ever too late for anyone to learn discipline.”
My thoughts exactly, Martin.
“You know, Martin, perhaps this is perfect timing for both of us,” I offered.
“How so?” he asked, buttering a dinner roll.
“Well, I’m sure you’ve done some basic research on Baronton Group.”
He nodded and I continued. “So then you know my vast holdings are very diverse, not to mention global. I employ over 2,800 full-time employees
in seven different countries. My transition team is one of the most talented, widely-recognised, results-oriented staff anywhere. They’ve received national recognition from Global Business Review three years in a row for their proven expertise in talent retention involving the companies we’ve acquired. Perhaps what Darcy needs most is mentoring and grooming from expert management development staff such as Baronton can offer. No offense meant, sir, but it’s a difficult position for a father to be in when it comes to making unpopular decisions involving your offspring, I would think.”
“No offense taken, you’ve nailed that one right on the head,” he chuckled. “So, what are you offering? Are you willing to be contractually obligated to see that my daughter learns the ropes at Sheridan & Associates regardless of her current lack of dedication?”
“I’ll do you one better, sir. Instead of an out-and-out acquisition, perhaps you’ll consider a merger of sorts; a joint venture so to speak. I’m prepared to make an offer to buy 51% of your company and personally oversee the transition team. I’d like to move one of my counter-terrorism surveillance software development firms to D.C. from London. Since your company’s already approved as a Tier 1 government contractor, there’ll be no issues with the merger. The benefit to you is that you’ll still retain minority ownership, but won’t have to be involved in the day-to-day operations. You’ll be a consultant for as long as you choose on the Sheridan segment of the business. My team and I will work hard to develop all of the management trainees at Sheridan per the merger agreement. You’ll be free to have more leisure time, along with the peace of mind in knowing your daughter’s getting trained by the very best.”
I saw the look in his eyes and I knew he was going to agree. I could already tell he was on-board.
“So, in other words, I don’t have to be the one cracking the whip anymore, huh?”
“Well put, sir.”