Break Me

by Logan Chance

  “Oh, what do the two of you have planned?”

  “Nothing too big. Dinner. Maybe a movie. Marley’s been working non-stop on her degree. I feel she needs a break to unwind a little.”

  “How are things with the two of you?” I ask.

  “Better than ever. I never thought I could ever be so lucky. After Nathan died I didn’t think I deserved it. But with her, she makes me breathe again.” I get that, because, now that I think about it, that's the way Pollux has been making me feel. I wonder what he would think of Pollux?

  “I’m so glad you’re happy,” I tell him.

  He studies me with his dark eyes. “What’s wrong, Katy?”

  I launch into my story, confiding everything, but leaving out the sordid details of all things sexual.

  “You hired him to be your what?” he asks, eyeing me carefully as he takes a gulp of his black coffee.

  “You know the board has the mindset of the 18th century. I think if I had a fiancé the people at the firm would take me more seriously. Once I make partner, I'm going to abolish their sexist slavery.”

  He sets his cup down and leans in. “You like him, don’t you?”

  I shift in my seat. “No.” I’m not convincing. He can always see through my lies. And right now, is no different.

  He cocks a brow. “Katy?”

  My name lingers in the air. Do I like him? Isn't it too early for like? There's a niggle happening of wanting to know things about him. But I'm sure that's the sex confusing me.

  “He's exciting, I guess,” I finally tell him. “But, I need this partnership more. I worked so damn hard for it.”

  “I know. Live a little, you deserve it. Life is short.” His eyes sadden.

  I stare at him a moment and shrug. “Yeah, maybe.”

  We continue talking about our mom and dad, and more about Marley and her work. After another coffee, and the sun sets, I tell him I need to get going.

  “You have that hot date to get to,” I remind him as he helps me slip on my coat.

  “Yeah, yeah. Let me know how everything goes.”

  I give him a big hug. “I will.”

  Is Houston right? Should I live a little? I can't remember the last time I was focused on anything other than work or making partner.

  I text Pollux, giving him my address to come see me. Time to start living.

  He sits in the lobby when I enter my building, and butterflies rush through me.

  “I hope you haven’t been waiting too long.”

  He stands. “Hey, darling.”

  I narrow my eyes. “Really? What have I said about cutesy nicknames?”

  He takes my hand in his, showing off his naughty grin. “Come on, you love it. So, have you missed me? Maybe you texted for that afternoon train ride.”

  I slap his arm. “There’s no train station anywhere around here.”

  He steps closer. “I see a train station right here,” he glances down, “and I’m sure the train is ready to pull in.”

  I step back. “Ok, seriously, if you mention a train one more time, I’ll end this deal.”

  He laughs, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. “Fine. I concede. Truth is, I had an idea.”

  “Follow me.” I turn toward the elevator, crooking my finger at him.

  8

  POLLUX

  I step foot into her swanky apartment, and let out a low whistle. It’s large and open, tans and beiges decorate the space with splashes of bright color. “Nice place. Is there anything not designer in here?”

  “The artwork,” she says, pointing to a huge canvas over her mantle.

  Splatters of reds, blues, and purples swirl together high on the piece and drip off to the bottom of the frame. I walk closer and study it. It reminds me of tears. “It’s nice.”

  “You don’t like it?”

  I shrug. “I think it's a very moving piece. It’s got a great melancholy feel to it.”

  She moves beside me to take in the art. “I don’t think so. I think it’s a new day, washing away mistakes of the past.”

  “I like that.”

  Her eyes meet mine and a moment is shared between us.

  She points to the couch, and I take a seat. “Lots of mistakes hidden in your past?”

  I lean back. “Baby, you have no idea.”

  I’m not getting into my past with her—not now, not ever.

  A lifetime of good breeding keeps her from pursuing it. She wants to, though. I see it in the way she chews her lip. Her sense of good manners wins out. “So, this idea?” she asks, changing the subject.

  “Ah, yes.”

  She offers me a drink and a few minutes later hands me a tumbler of bourbon and settles back into the couch.

  “You want to make partner, obviously. Who else are they considering?”

  “Carter Davis.”

  I rub the scruff on my jaw, thinking.

  “Carter. Carter….ah, the bumbling idiot?”

  She laughs. It’s cute. “Yes, that’s him. He’s wicked smart, but he doesn’t do well meeting new people.”

  “You need to learn your opposition. Who you’re fighting against.”

  She crosses her legs. It’s sexy. “What do you mean?” Her doe-eyed expression catches me off guard.

  Is she really this naive?

  “Princess, this is business. You need to play the game. Be ruthless. I know you have it in you,” I say.

  She hmm’s. It’s fucking hot. Those ruby-reds have me imagining wicked things.

  I take a deep breath.

  “Well, I thought I already was being manipulative. I mean, I hired you to be my fiancé, which I’m not sure why you accepted.”

  “I have my reasons.”

  Her brows raise. “Care to share?”

  “No.” I smirk.

  She studies me for a beat too long.

  Why am I helping this woman? I’m thinking with my dick. And usually that leads to trouble. But, no, not this time. No, feelings are vaulted away. She won't break me.

  “Well, whatever your reasoning, it works for me,” she says, tucking a leg under her. “I want this partnership.”

  “Why?” Now it’s my turn to study her. “Why go to all this trouble?”

  She takes a deep breath, long lashed eyes glancing upward then back at me. “I know it sounds cliche, but I want to show people I can do things on my own.”

  I crack a smile. “Then I guess you don’t need me,” I start to rise from the couch, “I’ll just get going.”

  “No.” She smiles, placing a hand on my thigh. Her touch sears through my jeans. “Ok, maybe not entirely on my own.”

  “I think you’re intelligent. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders.” I’ll probably keep her if I decide to buy this company. She’s a go-getter.

  “Thanks,” she hesitates. “Can I ask how you got the scar?” She points her finger to the scar above my eye.

  Here we go. “Ever seen a bottle of 1800 tequila? Or as I say to-kill-ya.”

  “Sure.”

  “Well, this is what you get when you have one smashed over your head.” I rub at the gash that took five stitches to close over my eyebrow.

  “Ouch, what happened?”

  Something in her curious eyes makes me want to confess things. Instead, I shrug. “Got into a fight. Nothing serious.”

  I tug at my tie and yank the constricting thing off. Is it hot in here? Does she have the heat on full blast?

  “Sorry. I don’t mean to pry.”

  “It’s fine.” It's not, really. But what do you say when you have a mark from something you'd rather not discuss? People are curious, they're going to ask whether you want them to or not. I stare at the amber liquid in my glass and toss it back, drowning memories that refuse to die.

  “Are you ok?” she asks.

  I light up with a smile. Pretending I'm not phased by my past. “I'm great.”

  We're both silent for a few minutes, and the painting above the mantle pulls my eyes to it’s
vivid colors. It really is a unique piece.

  “Pollux?”

  Our eyes meet. “Yeah?”

  “About our deal,” I set my glass on the coffee table, and she hesitates before continuing, “I really need to focus on the business side of things.”

  “What about it?”

  “The sex,” she blurts out and my eyes travel down to her hardened nipples.

  “You want it right now, don’t you? Admit it, you can’t stop thinking about me.”

  Her eyes shoot to mine. “Asshole. You’re hard to deal with.”

  She's full of shit. “It’s very hard—pun intended—dealing with you too.”

  Trying to get this girl out of my system is a task all on its own. I lean back, my legs spreading slightly.

  Her eyes watch the movement, and I adjust my dick.

  “You want it?” I say on a groan, my dick getting harder by the second.

  She shifts on the couch. “Well no, I don’t.”

  Yeah, and that's why her breathing is suddenly faint gasps of air as if she can’t catch a breath. I run my hand over my cock again. “Liar.”

  Her eyes meet mine. “Pollux, the things you say to me. You’re so bad.” She runs her hand along her neck. The spot I choked not only hours ago.

  “Bad, huh? I remember you moaning how good it was not too long ago.” I raise a brow, moving closer.

  She sits straighter, and I wonder how wet her sweet pussy is. Am I making her as wet as she makes me hard?

  “Well...I...uh...” She tries to scoot away, but I only move in closer. She's so hard to resist. Those red lips. So, full and firm. So, plump and pure. Lips I’ve imagined wrapped around me since I first laid eyes on them.

  And then a naughty Katy is unleashed. She grabs my shirt and pulls me into her, crushing her mouth to mine. So much for business. She moans into me, and I swallow it down. Every bit. Everything fades away, until I can’t see anything but the flashing neon warning light of what’s to come.

  She purrs and I growl. Like a wild zoo of animal bliss with hot heat and beating hearts. My hands fly into her hair.

  I’ve never wanted a girl a second time. Or a third or a fourth. But with her, I can’t seem to stop. She’s the golden elixir, straight from the fountain.

  “Are you afraid of me?” I ask after breaking the kiss.

  She nods, shyly. Super sweet. And her eyes reflect a vulnerability I can’t ignore.

  “Are you afraid I’ll hurt you?” I ask.

  Her tongue darts along her lower lip, and I lower my head to bite at it, nibbling down.

  She grips my shoulders, her pussy pressing against my cock. “I don’t think you’ll hurt me,” she finally answers.

  I raise my head, searching her eyes for the truth. “You sure about that?”

  “No.” Her pupils dilate, black nearly encompassing the blue. Her breathing hitches. And it’s a fucking miracle to watch. I’m the luckiest son-of-a-bitch on the planet.

  She’s afraid of me? Oh, I’ll make her damn near terrified. I’ll make it so she never questions me again. Because the truth is, I wouldn’t hurt her.

  And it isn’t until this moment I know without a shadow of a motherfucking doubt, I won’t. And then I see maybe, somehow, she might want me to. Katy is kinky underneath her carefully crafted business persona. Just like me.

  I yank her hair, sucking her neck between my lips. “Katy, what do you want?” I groan against her soft skin.

  “Take me like the bad man you are.”

  Fuck me and all this woman offers. She doesn’t need to ask twice.

  To say I’m turned on is an understatement. I’m a volcano of desire, ready to erupt, if I don’t plant myself far inside her.

  “So, you like it rough?” I need to make sure she’s on the same page as me. I’ll never force a woman into something they don't want.

  She blushes. “Well, this is all new to me. But, I like losing control. I like giving it to you. The rougher the better.”

  I yank her hair, until she’s off the couch and on her knees. “Stay there. Head down,” I instruct her.

  I lose my shoes and rip off my belt. I crack it in my hands, and her body jumps.

  I run my hand across her cheek.

  She lifts her head, eyes trained on me.

  “Keep your head down. Don’t look at me unless I let you,” I say. “If you want to stop, say Ford. It’ll be the safe word.”

  “Like the car?”

  I smile. “Yes, baby. Like the car.”

  She does as told, and my cock hardens to see her submit. I circle around her, rubbing the black leather against her cheek. The thought this is something unique and out of her element turns me on more than I’ve ever been.

  Like the way she makes me feel when I’m pretending to be her fiancé. I’ve never been engaged. That isn’t my life. But this is. Making her get off and see stars is something I can do. Every fucking day.

  I crack the belt again like a whip. But this time she doesn’t jerk or jump. This time she keeps her head down.

  Good girl. Naughty girl. My girl.

  And only for tonight. Tomorrow, I’ll go back to business, maybe even stop the sex. It's for the best. But tonight, I’m going to fuck her senseless. I’m going to control every movement. Every orgasm. Every fucking thing.

  I drop my pants to the floor, boxers too, and fist my cock, pumping slowly.

  I could come just from staring at her.

  Just from smelling her sweet perfume.

  “Look at me.”

  She obeys, and her eyes zero in on the big cock in my hands. I stand in front of her, my dick near her mouth. I rub it down her cheek, across the edge of her lips, and she opens for me. “You want to suck it, don’t you?”

  My eyes close for half a second as she moans out a yes.

  Fuck me.

  I push the tip in, and she swipes her tongue over the drop of precum. It drives me crazy watching her, and I wrap the belt around both my wrists, creating a loop of sorts, and place it over her head, positioning it at the nape of her neck. “Now fucking suck.”

  She opens her mouth wide and releases a hot breath across my dick. Her lips close around my shaft, and I tug the belt, bringing her head closer to me. My groan echoes in the quiet when I hit the back of her throat, and I about lose it when she gags on me.

  Fuck.

  She keeps sucking as I pull her back and forth, controlling her with the belt. Her hot mouth takes me all the way in, and she works my cock like a porn star. The sounds she makes while she sucks are an aphrodisiac. I need to be inside her.

  I tighten my grip on the belt, pushing my dick further down her throat. “That’s right. Take me deep.”

  My knees go weak, and I need to stop her before I shoot off. I’m close, and she only sucks harder and harder.

  Her hands snake up my legs, her fingers digging into my ass. She licks a trail from base to tip, her tongue twirling around the end, driving me completely mad with lust.

  I fuck her mouth. I keep fucking her mouth. I can’t stop, all I want is this girl to taste me. Taste everything I have for her.

  “I’m going to come.”

  She grips me harder. Her suction is too much.

  Damn. Christ. Jesus. Fuck.

  My mind is a wasteland of all the evil things I want to make her do. I slam my cock further, deeper, and she almost chokes on me.

  I pull out, and our eyes crash into each other. “I need you to fully submit to me.”

  “Yes, Sir,” she whispers.

  Fuck.

  My heart’s like a steam engine, plowing through station after station, rapid and fast. I suck in a deep breath to calm myself.

  I remove the belt, and lift her chin with my finger. “Strip for me,” I say, returning to the arm chair to have a seat.

  9

  KATY

  The board would keel over dead if they knew I was sucking cock with a belt around my neck. But, my god, giving him complete control is such a turn on for me. I
don't need years of therapy to know what this says about me. In my life, I’m a powerful business woman, a successful leader, control is something I have always. Control is exhausting, and it’s relieving to give up.

  And I know he won’t hurt me. Putting my trust in him is frightening. I trusted the wrong man once before. But, it's not like I'm giving him my heart. Only my body. The only drawback is whether being submissive means I can't wear a sexy leather and studded dominatrix outfit. I'll need to Google if that's allowed. Google knows everything.

  So, as I stand here, with my fingers on the buttons of my blouse, his hungry eyes eating me up, I smile.

  I give him the stripteases of stripteases. Demi Moore has nothing on my moves. A soundtrack plays in my head, and I give him a shimmy and a roll of my hips. I toss my hair back, and slowly unfasten each button of my blouse, pulling it open to reveal my white lace bra. The rest of my clothes follow in a seductive tease.

  He lets out a deep, low groan when I'm left in my bra and panties.

  “Remove them,” he growls.

  His request sends chills racing over my skin. I do as he says, and he sucks in a breath, staring at my bare pussy. Next, my bra comes off in the same slow fashion, one strap and then the other, and I toss it at him.

  The fact I have floor to ceiling windows in my apartment and anyone could see us, turns me on even more.

  I trace my fingers over the swells of my breasts, circling my nipples. “Do you like what you see, Sir?”

  Victorious feelings rush through me as he nods, rendered speechless.

  He stands from the chair, his cock jutting out toward me. The belt drapes in his right hand, and he closes the distance between us. He walks behind me and runs the leather over each cheek of my ass. Anticipation overtakes me. It's a thrilling torture not knowing what to expect.

  And then I find out. He draws his hand back, thwacking the belt with force against my ass. Fuck. Shit. Mother of God. I yelp, jumping forward a bit. The sting of the leather burns my skin, and he does it again, only harder.

  Tears sting my eyes. I won’t say the word, because a minuscule amount of pleasure is mixed in. He does it once more, and this time, I cry out.