Rule Me Dirty: A Royal Bad Boy Romance

by Parker Grey

  She’s moaning and gasping, of course, the pillow muffling the sounds. All the same I can feel the way her pussy muscles twitch at the stimulation, Sloane on a hair trigger, ready to explode at the slightest provocation.

  I keep my tongue moving slowly, knowing I’m driving her wild, never staying in one place for very long. I lap at her clit and then plunge my tongue into her sweet, waiting cunt, listening to the desperate noises she makes.

  When I think she’s on the edge, I press one lubed-up finger to her asshole, and she gasps, panting for breath. I ease it inside, past the tight ring of muscle until I’m inside her to the third knuckle and she moans.

  Her muscles spasm, almost like she can’t control herself. I close my lips around her clit and suck, licking at her until she’s right at the edge, and then I stop.

  I pull my finger out.

  “No,” she whispers. “Please, Mr. Declan, don’t stop.”

  I chuckle and put my mouth to her again. This time I push two fingers at her back entrance, licking and sucking the whole time, and as her muscles give way to me she gasps with a tiny oh!

  There’s a pause, and I plunge my tongue into her pussy, pushing my fingers deeper, and now she moans loudly, the sound ending in a desperate whimper. I can’t stop myself anymore, and I move to her clit, licking it fast and hard and in seconds she’s coming.

  Sloane screams into the pillow, her ass still high in the air as I fuck it with two fingers, my mouth on her pussy. The ring of muscles spasms hard, crushing my fingers together as her whole body jerks until she’s gasping, still face down, spent.

  I’m hard as iron, my dick practically leaking precum onto the floor. Even though I came down her throat minutes ago, I’m ready again, like I’m a teenager or something.

  I stop licking her, and after a moment, I pull my fingers out, wiping them off with a baby wipe. After all, I’m dirty, not gross.

  “I think you liked that,” I say. “You’ve never come with something in your ass before.”

  She takes a deep breath.

  “No,” she whispers. “And — yes.”

  I grin, even though she can’t see it.

  “Say it,” I tell her, leaning over the bed, butt plug in one hand. “Tell me you like it when I finger-fuck your tight little ass and make you come.”

  “I like coming with you in my ass,” she says, rephrasing it so it’s even hotter.

  “Good,” I say, positioning the plug at her back hole. There’s a little resistance, but it’s well-lubed and slips in easily.

  Sloane gasps quietly.

  “That’s not your finger,” she says.

  “No,” I say, tapping the base of the plug, moving it inside her slightly. She bites her lip, making my cock jump at the sight. “It’s a plug, and it stays here until I take it out.”

  She just nods, her hole flexing and tightening around the new object inside. Her pussy is still dripping wet, even more so now that her ass is stuffed full.

  I climb onto the bed, lifting her by the hips and putting her down. I unlock her handcuffs and roll her over, and she rolls her shoulders in small circles before I cuff her again, then attach her restraints to the headboard.

  Sloane's unbelievably beautiful, even more beautiful in her total surrender, her willingness to let me do anything to her. I uncuff her ankles and kneel between her thighs, then pinch both her hard, swollen nipples at once as she moans again.

  I resist the urge to fuck her hard again. I’ve already done that, and as wonderful as it feels, tonight is about driving her insane, making her moan and scream and whimper and shout my name, then come so hard her ears pop. I can fuck her hard almost any time I want.

  “Beg me again,” I say. “I like hearing you beg.”

  “Please fuck me, Mr. Declan,” she says instantly.

  “More.”

  She swallows.

  “I need you to fill me up with your thick cock,” she goes on. “I need you to stretch out my little pussy until I scream.”

  I pinch her nipples hard and don’t let up. Her chest heaves below my hands, and there’s a whimper in her voice.

  “Fuck me with the plug in my ass,” she whispers. “Please, Mr. Declan, stop teasing me and fuck me.”

  I kneel, my knees below her ass, and slide the tip of my cock past her clit slowly as her bound body jerks. I find her swollen, wet entrance, and I push the tip of my cock inside, just past the ring of muscle.

  “Oh my God,” she breathes, and I have to bite my own lip. She’s even tighter than before with the plug in her ass, and my balls pull up against my body, practically ready to come already.

  “Mr. Declan, that feels so good,” she says, her back arching and her hips moving, her pussy gripping at my shaft.

  I pull her knees over my shoulder and slide inside her as slowly as I can, her cunt tight and wet and absolutely perfect. Sloane whimpers and babbles, mostly just the words please fuck me, please, over and over again as I fold her legs back toward her, getting as deep inside as I possibly can.

  I fuck her slow, so slow it seems like Sloane might lose her mind. She’s straining at her handcuffs, trying to move her hips faster, harder, but I’m relentless. As much as I want to, I don’t give in, just plow her slow and steady.

  “I’m gonna come so hard, Mr. Declan,” she says, practically sobbing from ecstasy. “Make me come, please, make me come...”

  I drive deep one more time, and I don’t go fast but I fuck her hard, and Sloane screams. There are no words, just a guttural, animal noise as her pussy clenches around me. With the plug in her ass it’s so tight that I have to close my eyes and grit my teeth as I fuck her, right on the brink myself, utterly lost to the perfect pleasure of being inside my dirty, filthy girl.

  I realize she’s saying something over and over again, pulling at her restraints, her body bucking beneath mine, beautiful and helpless.

  “Come inside me,” she whimpers. “Let me feel you come, Mr. Declan, please let me feel you come.”

  At that, I lose control because I can’t hear her say come inside me and not do it, consequences be damned. I let go with a roar, pulling her hard against me, completely emptying myself inside my secretary, fucking her until I’m going soft and I’m utterly drained.

  Then, at last, I pull out. I’m still wearing a shirt, tie, and slacks, but I crawl over her and hold her tight, kissing her hard on the mouth. She kisses me back, her mouth and body soft and warm and pliable, letting me explore her as much as I want.

  I take off her blindfold. I uncuff her wrists, and then rub them gently while she looks up at me, her gaze trusting and gentle, and I think to myself: I didn’t plan on this.

  I knew I wanted to fuck her, take her, claim every part of her as my own.

  But I thought it would just be sex, and now I’m here, kissing her like we’re lovers. Rubbing her wrists. Looking into her eyes and, strangely, thinking about sleeping here with her, waking up next to my secretary tomorrow morning.

  That I can’t do, and I know it, but I think I like the thought.

  “There’s a hot tub in the bathroom,” I say. “And bubble bath.”

  Her legs are still around me, and she glances down, taking one of my hands in hers.

  “Join me?” she asks softly.

  I hesitate.

  “You just came inside me and I’ve never seen you naked,” she whispers. “Come on, Mr. Declan.”

  I raise her hand to my lips and kiss each of her fingers, one by one, as I wonder what the fuck I’m doing. I know what I like and it’s not this — it’s making women beg, it’s fucking them hard and making them come and having them completely at my mercy.

  Which we did. Which Sloane is, but I’ve never had this urge before.

  “All right,” I say. “Let’s take a bubble bath.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Sloane

  I roll off the bed and start the bath, sitting on the edge as the tub fills. Mr. Declan brings us more champagne, and then I watch as he takes off
his shirt and pants, draping them neatly over a counter.

  Strange to think that I’ve only seen his naked cock before, but it’s true. The rest of him is built, surprisingly so for someone so much older than me, but he’s tall and thick and sculpted in a way that makes my mouth go dry.

  For a moment, I wonder, he’s rich and sexy and unbelievably hot, and he’s fucking his secretary?

  “There,” he says. “Now you’ve seen me naked.”

  I might be imagining it, but there’s something vulnerable in his voice, just a little, as I look up at him.

  “Thank you,” I say, and shut off the water.

  Then we both get into the bath. We drink champagne and talk until the water is nearly cold and the champagne is gone.

  As Mr. Declan leaves, he tells me I can stay overnight, it’s already paid for. I want to ask why he’s leaving, but I don’t, because I know this is complicated.

  Before he goes, he gives me a long, lingering kiss goodbye, and I taste him on my lips all night.

  I spend the weekend thinking about Friday night. I think about the sex, hell yes. His plug is still in my ass, because I’m not to remove it except for necessity, and I like feeling it there every time I walk or sit or, really, every time I move at all. It’s a little reminder of what we did, and more than that, it’s a reminder of whose I am.

  Saturday and Sunday I fuck myself with the dildo. I can’t help it, but it’s a little disappointing. No substitute for the real thing.

  Monday morning I’m awake at 5 a.m., excited and already buzzing for the day ahead. I feel like it’s the first day of kindergarten, or maybe Christmas, except dirty.

  Really dirty.

  I’m at the office by 7:30. It’s cold out, so I wear tights under my tight pencil skirt. I don’t like the idea of having anything at all on, but I also hate the idea of freezing to death, so I do it.

  I sit at my desk and wait in pure, torturous anticipation. Mr. Declan finally gets in at 9:05, nods at me once, then walks into his office. My pussy is a puddle, and I can’t stop rocking back and forth in my chair, moving the plug inside my ass, a reminder that I’m practically owned.

  It’s another thirty minutes before he opens his door and calls me into his office. I practically leap out of my chair, and as I do, I see Camille’s head swivel toward me, her eyes following me as I walk.

  I notice, but I can’t bring myself to care. It’s been two long, terrible, frustrating days, and I enter his office and close the door behind myself, nearly vibrating with excitement.

  “Good morning, Sloane,” Mr. Declan says, sipping a cup of coffee.

  “Good morning, Mr. Declan,” I say, perfectly poised, even as I can practically feel my heartbeat in my clit, I’m so excited.

  “Now that the Daily Grind deadline is passed, I need you working on the corporate retreat in the Hamptons coming next weekend,” he says.

  Holy shit, I’d nearly forgotten in all the stress over the Daily Grind account. Also, the sex.

  “Yes, of course,” I say.

  It’s four days long, I think. I’m not going to see him for four days.

  “I’m going to need you to come this year,” he says.

  Maybe it’s my imagination, but I could swear he stresses the word come, just a little, and my heart skips a beat. I didn’t think that assistants got to go on the retreat, but I guess I was wrong.

  “Of course,” I say.

  He nods once.

  “Good,” he says. “There’s quite a bit to be done before the retreat, but I’m sure you can handle it.”

  I smile, just a little.

  “Yes, Mr. Declan,” I whisper.

  We lock eyes. My heart slams against my ribs.

  “Come over here,” he commands, his voice low and soft.

  I walk around the desk until I’m in front of him as he sits in his big, leather executive chair. I look at his lap, where his cock is obviously tenting up his pants.

  “Turn around and bend over,” he says.

  I obey, spinning on one shoe, and reach my arms toward the floor, touching my toes, ass high in the air. My skirt strains against me.

  Mr. Declan pushes my skirt up, over my ass and hips, his hands firm and demanding and gentle all at the same time.

  “What is this,” he asks, his voice almost teasing as he snaps the fabric of my simple black tights against my thigh.

  I squirm.

  “It’s cold, and I have to walk to the subway,” I say, by way of apology.

  He grabs the waist of my tights and pulls them down until they’re around my thighs. Now I’m totally exposed to him, my cunt practically gushing, the plug still firmly in my ass.

  Mr. Declan taps it, and I gasp, biting my lip as sparks explode through me. His fingers brush along the very outside of my lips.

  “You’re very wet,” he says, voice low. “Are you enjoying this?”

  “Yes,” I whisper.

  “Good girl,” he murmurs.

  His fingers glide on, moving towards my clit, circling it, moving back to my entrance.

  Put them in, I think, all other thought utterly blanked out. Please put them in, I can’t stand this.

  “Straighten up and pull your skirt back down,” he says, pulling his hand away.

  I obey, and he leans back in his chair, one elbow planted on the armrest, hand held high in the air. Then, one by one, he licks his fingers off, slowly and deliberately, locking eyes with me.

  It’s dirty and I love it. I wanted him to bend me over this desk and plow me deep, but I’ll have to take this for now.

  He turns to his computer, signaling that this is over, and I walk to the front of his desk, now his assistant instead of his good girl.

  “Open the door,” he murmurs.

  I do.

  “Oh, and Sloane,” he says, his voice suddenly loud and businesslike.

  I clear my throat.

  “Yes?” I ask, playing along.

  “Please put a lunch with Jeffrey and Barb on my schedule at noon today at the Water Grille,” he says.

  “Of course,” I say.

  Before I turn to go, he locks eyes with me and slides a notecard across the desk.

  Noon

  Marquis Hotel

  4556 5th Ave

  I blush, then nod. He nods back.

  “Thank you, Sloane,” he says, and I walk back to my desk, the notecard held carefully in my hand. Camille’s not watching me this time, but when I wake my computer up I see that I have one new email, from her.

  There’s no subject line, and when I open it, there are only two words:

  I know.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Mr. Declan

  When I walk into the hotel room, Sloane is pacing back and forth, wringing her hands. It’s not at all what I was expecting, and even less what I was hoping for — I wanted her naked, already on the bed, moaning, touching herself. I’m hard as a rock just thinking about it, but instead she’s upset about something.

  “What is it?” I ask, throwing my coat over a chair.

  “Camille knows,” she says, her voice a worried rush. “She sent me an email this morning. That’s all it said. I know.”

  She stops, arms crossed over her chest, biting her lip.

  “What can she do?” Sloane asks, her big eyes darting at me. “It’s your company, right? She can’t do anything?”

  I sigh, feeling a heavy weight in my stomach.

  “She could tell the board, and they could make my life hard,” I admit. “They could fire you. She could sue for causing a hostile workplace.”

  I don’t say and I could lose everything because I couldn’t resist you.

  Sloane's eyes fill with tears.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispers.

  I take her face in my hands, wiping away her tears with my thumb.

  “No,” I tell her. “Sloane, this will be fine. Let me handle Camille.”

  I’m not exactly sure how I’m going to do it, but I’ve got some ideas.
/>   She just shakes her head.

  “I need this job,” she whispers. “I know it must seem like I’m trying to fuck my way to the top, but—”

  Her voice breaks off and she swallows.

  “I’m not,” she says. “I want this career, and I want to advance the right way, by being good at my job, but I just—”

  “I know,” I murmur.

  “I just wanted you anyway,” she says, her voice totally miserable.

  I take her firmly by the jaw and tilt her face toward mine.

  “You’re good at your job, Sloane,” I say. “And when you get promoted, it won’t be because I dream about my cock between your lips every night.”

  Her mouth opens, just a little, as she looks up at me, uncertain.

  “Maybe we shouldn’t—”

  I crush my mouth to hers, and with one hand I grab her ass hard, then pull her skirt up. I push her tights down, and I push lightly on the plug in her ass.

  “Let me handle Camille,” I growl. “But I need you now, and like hell I’m letting that dumb tramp get between us.”

  She practically melts underneath me.

  “Yes, Mr. Declan,” Sloane says, a smile on her lips.

  I fuck her twice. Once hard and fast, bent over the counter in the bathroom, our clothes still halfway on as we watch ourselves. Once slow, her on her back on a table. There are no restraints, no whips, no toys, just our bodies and pure, desperate lust.

  When it’s over, she reaches for her tights, and I remember I brought something for her.

  “Wait,” I say, and pull a small box from my coat pocket, handing it to her.

  She raises her eyebrows, looking at me through her lashes, then opens it. Inside is a garter belt and thigh-high black hose, and Sloane laughs.

  “You really hate tights,” she muses, sitting on the edge of the bed, completely naked, beautiful as hell.

  “I hate having something between me and what’s mine,” I say.