His Pawn (The Manhattan Tales Book 1)

by Thorne, Willa

  I’ll be home at 7 pm. Be ready and waiting in the dining room.

  I enjoyed taking her in most rooms of my penthouse. I felt myself harden, picturing her splayed for me on the dining room table, her velvety thighs wrapped around me as my cock plunged deeply into her wet folds. Someday, when she’s ready, I’ll take her to my apartment on West 87th Street-

  A text chimes in from Jill and my knuckles clamp upon reading it.

  Jill: I’m on campus right now, Sir. What if I get busy?

  She’s been challenging lately, as though she wants to be punished. I thumb an answer back quickly.

  Don’t test me, Ms. Pryor. You won’t like it.

  My phone chimes again.

  Jill: … Or will I?

  That’s it. My fingers twitch, and my cock aches against the tent of my pants. I don’t even answer her this time. I’m going to campus to fetch her myself. Something deep inside tells me that this is what she’s asking for. I’ll show her what it means to challenge me.

  “Mr. Woodward,” Elizabeth calls through the intercom on my office desk. “I am reminding you about your dinner meeting tonight with Tanaka and Yoshida, at five pm, at Carlito’s.”

  Fuck! I throw down my briefcase. I’d forgotten all about that follow-up meeting with my father’s Japanese investors. They were the ones to request an early dinner meeting before they took their flight back to Tokyo this evening. With Manhattan traffic, I have just enough time to gather the necessary documents and “fix” myself before meeting them in the swanky Italian restaurant on Madison Avenue. With reluctance, I sent another text to Jill informing her that I’d be home late due to a dinner meeting.

  Business was as pleasurable as it could be with two tight-lipped investors. I managed to keep my dark and dirty thoughts of Jill at bay long enough to convince the men to agree to my father’s requests. I still couldn’t help but think that I should bring Jillian to this place sometime. She loves good Italian food… I grit my teeth and shake the thought from my mind.

  By the time the investors leave for the airport, it is eight pm. I ordered two shots of whiskey and downed them each immediately, before I signed off on the check. Eight-thirty.

  I finally punched in the elevator code to my penthouse, and arrived home to complete silence, but the strong smell of buttered popcorn hung in the air. I knew that was not from Mrs. O’Malley.

  I set my briefcase down on the polished glass table in the foyer. I found Jill sitting on the oversized leather sofa in the entertainment room. Her wild waves spilled over the edge of the leather and I could see that she was wearing the bulky oversized NYU sweatshirt again.

  I watched her scroll through a selection of movie titles on the screen. I admired her from the doorway, enjoying her beauty. She was in her natural state, completely uninhibited. Finally, I cleared my throat when it seemed that she was endlessly searching for a movie title.

  “You can order anything you like On-Demand,” I spoke, making her jump slightly.

  She looked up at me, and smiled slightly. “That’s so expensive though. Netflix is ten bucks a month for endless streaming.”

  I couldn’t stifle a grin. Even in such lavish surroundings, she’s still the bargain hunter. I thought about ordering her up, and undressing her, but for some reason, I enjoyed seeing her in this relaxed state. She looked like she belonged here. No.

  “What are you going to watch?” I asked, trying to maintain a calm demeanor.

  “I don’t know,” she sighed and then smiled at me as I sat down on the other end of the sofa. Her legs were stretched out across the leather, but there was still plenty of room.

  “I never tried netflix,” I commented. “Come to think of it, I don’t ever use this TV…”

  She looked at me and grinned. “Well, there’s a first time for everything.”

  I watched her scroll through the titles, more fixated on her than the selections on the screen. I watched her face; the light had returned in her large, dark eyes… the prettiest eyes I’d ever seen, truly. Her chest heaved up and down lightly beneath that sweatshirt, and then she suddenly sat up and grinned broadly as she selected a title. I didn’t even know what she chose. I wasn’t paying attention. The words of my cousin haunted me at the same time, and I struggled to push them away as I watched Jillian. I’d all but forgotten the frustrations of the day when I laid eyes on her.

  I finally looked at the screen and quirked an eyebrow at her. “Pretty Woman?” I knew what she was getting at with this title.

  “Sure, why not?” She asked, trying to remain casual, but she was such a bad actress and I saw the glint in her eyes as she looked up at me. Then she switched out of the movie and returned to the main menu.

  “Alright, that was a bad attempt at a joke,” she giggled as she lay back with her head on the armrest of the sofa.

  I smirked, but then she began rubbing her bare foot on my arm playfully. I looked down at her, and saw the teasing smirk on her face. I wrapped my hand around her ankle and gripped it firmly. Her face suddenly fell, noting the warning look on my face.

  “I warned you not to test me, Ms. Pryor,” I stated calmly.

  I watched her breathing hitch as she looked up at me. Then I snickered and brushed my forefinger down the sole of her foot. She flinched, giggling.

  I arched a brow. “Oh, ticklish there, are you?” I brushed two fingers around the sole and she flailed more, hysterical.

  “No, Mason. Stop. Please.” She tried to yank her foot from my grasp but it was no use. My cock hardened at the sight of her thrashing body.

  “Where else are you sensitive, Ms. Pryor?” I asked, grabbing her other foot. She responded in a fit of giggles, writhing, trying to yank her foot away. I leaned closer, trailing my fingers up her leg while my other hand kept her left ankle bound in my grip.

  “What about…. here?” I asked, slipping my hand beneath her sweat shirt. I felt the smooth, warm silk of her skin. My fingers lightly caressed her soft stomach and she gave another burst of giggles.

  “Mason, really. Stop, please,” She giggled, trying to turn away from me, but my vice-like grip on her ankle kept her as I wanted her. She squealed and whimpered, and now I was aching beneath my pants.

  Finally I stopped my torment of her and she looked up at me, breathing heavily. Her eyes shone, still laughing softly as she looked up at me.

  “You’re wicked,” She said, trying to glare, but her eyes still radiated.

  “You have absolutely no idea, sweetpea.” I knew my smile was wolfish.

  In that moment, I don’t know what overcame me, but I leaned over and kissed her lips softly. I pulled away, realizing what I had done, and she looked up at me in shock. Despite our initial meetings, I had worked very diligently to maintain the contract while keeping space between us. It was the only way I could maintain control in my life, over her.

  I had not kissed her lips in weeks. I pulled away completely just then, cursing myself for what I’d just done, but Jill wasn’t sorry. Before I could straighten entirely, she wrapped her arms around me and pressed her lips to mine. I couldn’t fight it. I snaked an arm around her tightly, pressing her small body to mine, forcing her to straddle my lap as the fire was rekindled between us. Her hands moved to unfasten my crisp button-down as I pulled her sweatshirt over her head. Once she managed my shirt from my shoulders, I forced her onto her back, never tearing my lips from her luscious mouth.

  She parted her lips, allowing my tongue to savor the taste of her and I couldn’t help but pin her wrists above her head. My head was reeling, feeling out of control in this moment, especially now that she had her legs wrapped around my body. I finally tore my lips away from her mouth, and passionately kissed down her body, taking each sweet nipple in my mouth.

  I felt her chest heave up and down from the pleasure as I sucked on her breasts, marking her lightly. Branding her. She’s mine, and I wanted to make this night about her. Every moan, every squeal, every whimper of her pleasure would belong to me.


  “Get up,” I commanded, and she obeyed immediately. She stood before me, topless. Her dark auburn waves fell over her full breasts and the sight of her made my cock even harder, if that was even possible. I ran my fingers up and down the silk of her porcelain skin. I never noticed the few freckles that were scattered on her stomach, left hip bone and one above her right breast.

  Now that I was worshipping her body, I noticed them for the first time. I planted a deep kiss on each freckle on her body, sucking lightly. Tomorrow, she’d feel where my mouth had been this night.

  “Mm, Mason,” she breathed softly as my mouth adored her body. I remained seated in front of her as my tongue ran slowly from her belly to the middle of her beautiful chest. My hands removed her pale pink pajama bottoms and I felt my tenderness wane as she stood there before me in sheer violet lace that hugged her hips.

  “Ms. Pryor,” I said in a raspy whisper as I began kissing the saturated area of her panties. I felt her body clench as my tongue roughly lapped at her through the lace. My hands clenched her peach of an ass and I felt my fingers bite into her skin.

  “Oh Mason… Mr. Woodward… please,” she whimpered, feeling my tongue torment her through the lace. My fingers brushed along the apex of her thighs. She closed her eyes and dipped her head back, but I jerked her by the hips, forcing her to look at me.

  “Please, what?” I asked as I slid her panties down her legs. She carefully stepped out of them, and I kept them balled in my fist. My black silk tie still draped over my shoulders to go with the matching pants that still hung on my hips. Jill stepped back for a moment to admire every inch of my solid, toned frame and I couldn’t help but smirk as I shoved her panties into the pocket of my pants. I let her enjoy the view for a few moments and then grabbed her by the cheeks of her ass and hoisted her up. She wrapped her legs around my waist as I carried her from the entertainment room into the dining room.

  I set her down on the dining table. I spread her legs and kissed up her inner thighs until my mouth consumed the sweet wet heat between her thighs. My tongue lapped at her slick folds and she gasped as she threw her head back. I hadn’t tasted her like this in weeks. I’d denied her this pleasure in an effort to keep her disconnected from me. I made a silent vow to myself that I’d taste her like this much more often. My tongue flicked and lapped at her mound, enjoying the pleasurable spasming of her body as she gasped, coming right on my tongue. I sucked all her sweet juices and then nibbled lightly on her clit.

  “Oh please Mason,” she begged with ragged breathing.

  “Tell me what you want, Princess,” I gave a husky order as I gripped her hips.

  “Please, I want you…” she answered, sounding pathetic, but it drove my cock wild.

  “Say it. Say the word,” I ordered into her ear as my fingers gripped her hips more firmly.

  Her breathing was shaking as she dipped her body back into mine.

  “I want you… to…” She seemed to struggle with the word. I trailed a finger down her torso, from her breasts to her stomach.

  “Yes…?” I urged as I pulled her hips over the edge of the table and ground my groin between her thighs. She groaned softly.

  “I want you to fuck me,” She said just above a whisper. “... hard.”

  Fuck. Me. Hard. I could feel a storm suddenly roaring within me when she said that to me.

  “You don’t know what you’re asking,” I said with my fingers digging into her hips again. Before she could answer, a free hand had unfastened my belt buckle and loosened my pants.

  “Yes, I do,” she looked up at me and bit down on her lower lip. Then, she arched her back and spread her legs for me.

  My blood was boiling with desire at this point. Oh hell. She wants hard. I’ll show her hard.

  My pants and boxer briefs met the floor and I kicked them away.

  I held her hips in a vice-like grip and plunged deep into her. She moaned and mewled as her body spasmed from the force of my rough cock. I held her in place on my dining table as I fucked her hard, rough. There was nothing remotely gentle about the way I took her on the table.

  “Ohh Mason…” she cried and whimpered. I was lost in my element as I took her aggressively. Then she became too loud I pulled her off the table, bound her hands behind her back with her own panties. Then I sat in one of the highback chairs within the dining room and forced her on my cock. I held her in place as I pistoned deep inside her, feeling her delicious pussy clench frantically around me.

  “That’s it, baby,” I growled into her ear as I fucked her in the chair. She orgasmed around my cock and I followed a few minutes later. I fucked hard, but this tense, tight pussy was too much.

  I stood and set her on her feet, then led her by the panties that still bound her wrists and took her into my study. I threw everything from the desk by sliding my hand roughly over the surface. Papers scattered all over the rug. Then I kissed her passionately, deeply, hungrily. It didn’t take long for my cock to grow stiff again.

  “Tell me if I hurt you,” I whispered into her ear.

  “Yes, Sir,” she responded with hooded, lustful eyes. Without my word, she trailed her tongue from my chest down to my stomach. Her lips were luscious against my heated skin. I needed her again. I wrapped her hair around my fist and pulled her up by her scalp and bent her over my desk.

  “I’m going to take you again,” I said as my hands kneaded her beautiful, round ass. I watched her squirm lightly in anticipation.

  Then, my hand rang down on her porcelain skin. I reveled in the red print of my hand on her ass. She cried out in a gasp, surprised. I rubbed the red area, then struck her other cheek and she let out another gasp.

  “Mason…” She was almost whining.

  “You’ve been challenging me lately, Ms. Pryor. This is just a little reminder who's in charge.”

  “Yes, yes, Sir,” she whimpered. My hands caressed the silk of her skin before I gripped her hips sharply and then rammed my hardened length into her slick folds. The sounds this girl gives can set off an alarm system.

  I grabbed the tie that was still slinked over my shoulders, placed it between those lips as I took her from behind. My tempo was merciless, half waiting for her to cry out to go easier and half not caring.

  “Oh Mason… Oh please… feels so good….” She cried out, muffled from my tie, as her fingers curled into fists from the pleasure. Her fingernails dug into the skin of her palm. She cried my name over and over. I’d never seen her so liberated before; Splayed over my desk, she was like a flower that had bloomed right before me.

  I took her in every room, but one. I reveled in the heated passion between us as she gave herself to me completely. This night had been unlike any other night before. The spark had returned in her eyes, and she had submitted to me, body and soul, without the usual questioning look in her eyes. Of course I’d fucked her hard and rough in past nights, but never like this… and never once did she beg me to go easy or stop.

  I finally carried her back to her bedroom, and tucked her under the covers. She was exhausted and already half asleep. I switched off the bedside light and turned to look at her. The city lights filtered softly through the curtains, gently illuminating her features. She looked like an angel.

  Seeing her like this brought such a heaviness to my heart and I couldn’t resist. I sat on the edge of the bed and watched her sleep. Lightly, my fingers caressed her hair and I saw that she was smiling in her sleep. The desire to stay in the bed with her was strong, yet fleeting. Stubbornly, I pushed this feeling aside and left her to rest.

  As I walked down the hall to my own master suite, I knew one thing for certain: I was fucked. No pun intended.

  11. Jilly Bean

  I awoke the next morning to an empty bed, as expected, but my heart fluttered wildly when I remembered the night before. I still felt the lingering effects of his touch, and my head was still reeling from what happened between us. The way his eyes blazed, the initial tenderness and then roughness of his touch... What h
ad I done to spark this in him? I grabbed my glasses from the nightstand, slipped out of the bed and examined myself in the mirror: mussed hair, and… bruises on my hips from where he gripped me last night. Light bruises decorated my breasts where he kissed and sucked my skin. Liquid pools of heat rushed south at the memory of him taking me every which way, in every room. Every room except one.

  My phone vibed at that instant, tearing me away from the examination of my reflection. It was Mason, and my heart swelled.

  “Hi,” I smiled into the phone.

  “Good morning,” his voice sounded much less stern than usual. “I was just calling to check on you. Did you sleep well?”

  “I’m great. Really great,” I answered, perching on the edge of the bed. “How are you?”

  “Average morning; A client cancelled so I had a minute to check on you.” I just loved the way he sounded on the phone this morning. He’d never called to check on me the morning after before like this.

  “Do you think you’ll be home regular time tonight?” I asked. I sensed that he wanted to say something due to the sudden awkward silence on his end.

  “Most likely,” There was another pause of silence. “I may have to stay on the West End.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut in that moment, hearing him say this. He was shutting me out again.

  “Mason please, it’s only me, Jill. Remember? It’s just me, the girl you-”

  “I know exactly who you are,” Mason answered with a taciturn note in his voice.

  So this was his real reason for calling. He’d been wondering if he was too rough? I felt the tender bruises on my hips. Yes, he was very rough at times, especially when he had me splayed over the dining table… I wanted him again and again.

  “You were perfect,” I replied. “I want it again and again.”