by Bec Botefuhr
“Spankmethen.”
IkeeprubbingandIcomesohardmybodytremblesandmymouth opensinagasp.Marcuscomesasecondlater,spurtinghisreleaseinto myopenmouthasIwhimperfrommyownrelease.Thefeelingofhis comehittingmytongueisquiteerotic.Hegroans,usinghisfreehandto gentlypumphisshaftashemilkseverylastdropfromhisslowly softeningcock.Whenhepullsoutofmymouth,Ilookupathim,licking mylips.
“Badgirl,”hemurmurs.
Iletaslow,sexysmilecreepupontomyface.Marcuscrouches down,meetingmygazefaceon.
“I’mgoingtospankyouforthat.”
“Iknow,”Imurmur.
“Challengingme.Alwayschallengingme.”
“Perhapsyoudeserveit,sir.”
Heslideshisfingeracrossthebottomofmylipwhereadropofhis releasestilllingers.HepressesitintomymouthandIsuckonhisfinger, makinghiseyesbecomeheavyandsexy.
“PerhapsIdo,”hemurmurs,slippinghisfingeroutofmymouth.
“Whatwillyoudowithmenow,sir?”
Hegrins,leaningdownandscoopingmeintohisarms.Hecarriesme tohisdeskandheslidesthepensandpapersoutofthewaybefore placingmeonmyfeetandpushingmeoverthedarkwood.Herunshis fingersdownmyasscheeksashegentlypreparesforwhatIknowis coming.
“Howmanydoyouthinkyoudeserve,sweetgirl?”
“Ten,sir.”
“Hmmm,yeah,Ithinktenwillwork.”
Thefirstslapcomesasashock,italwaysdoes.Bythethirdand fourththough,mybodyiscomingalive.Ialwaysdidlikeagood spanking,callmetwisted.WhenhegetstonumbersixI’msquirmingand whimpering,wantinghiminsideme,wantingsomethingtoreleasethe pressureinmyclit.Bythetimehe’sreachedten,mybodyiswrithing withneed.Hepullsmeup,pressingmybacktohischest.Thenheleans downandwhispersintomyear.
“Ifyourubyoursweetlittlepussyagaintonight,I’lldoublethat spankingandIwon’tbereleasingthepressureforyou.Beagoodgirl,go tobedandwhenyouwakeinthemorning,I’lllayyoudown,spreadyour legsandlickthatsweetlittlecuntuntilyou’rebeggingmetostop.”
Heletsmego,andwithwobblylegsandabodythat’ssodamned arousedithurts,Ibeginwalkingtowardsthedoor.
“Sierra,baby?”hecalls.
Ilookovermyshoulderathim.
“I’llknowsweetheart,somakesureyoudon’ttouch.”
Bastard.
CHAPTER6
SIERRA
Sleepdidn’tcomeeasy,ittookalotofrollingaroundtocalmmy bodydown.Marcus’sexyvoicekeptmeawakewithsucheroticpromise.
“I’lllickthatsweetcunt.”God,themanhadafilthymouth,butitwas whatmadehimsodamnedaddictive.Hejusthasthatthingabouthim thatmakeswomenwanttochasehim,riphiscockoutofhispantsand playwithhimallnight.MarcusHarrisonjustnevergetsold,Icouldn’t everimagineatimewhenlookingathimwouldn’tmakemypantieswet.
Iwakeearlyinthemorning,IcanfeelMarcus’hard,hotbody wrappedaroundmine.Hisarmsarearoundmywaist,hischestispressed againstmybackandhiscockisrestingsoftlyagainstmyass.Iwigglea littleandIfeelhimbegintoswell.Men.Seriously.Theycouldgethard evenwhenthey’reasleep.IwigglemyasssomemoreandMarcus’hand lashesoutandgripsmyhip,stoppingme.Ismotheragiggleashis fingerspressintomyskin.
“Careful,”hemurmurssleepily.“I’manactivemorningperson.”
“MaybeIamtoo,”Ibreathe,rubbingmybottomagainsthimagain.
“Doyouwantmetofuckyouthere,sweetgirl?”
Istoprubbing.“No…why…doyouwantto?”
Heslideshisfingersupmyhip,sideandthenovermybreast.He cupsitinhishandandmassagesgently.Hisfingershavetheperfect amountofroughnessandIcan’thelpthelittlewhimperthatescapes.
“Iwouldn’tsayno,”hemurmurs,circlinghisfingerovermynipple andcausingittopucker.
“Oh.”
“Butwedon’tneedtoworryaboutthatrightnow,IbelieveImade youapromise.”
BeforeIcanspeak,heflipsmeontomyback.Hishardbodylooms overmineandhegrinsseductivelyasheslideshismouthdownmybody.
Ohhhh,thatpromise.HowcouldIforget?Whenhismouthfindsmy pussy,hegripsmyhips,tiltingthemupwardsbeforepressinghisface againstmythrobbingfleshanddartinghistonguebetweenmyfolds.I dropmyheadintothepillowanddrowninthesoundsofmyown screamingasMarcusgivesmeanorgasmIwon’tforgetinahurry.
~*~*~*~
SIERRA
Marcusisdressedandreadyforwork,whileI’mstillinhisoversized shirtsittingatthebreakfastbar.Herushesaround,talkingonthephone andbarkingordersatthepoorpersonontheotherend.I’vemadehim late.Iknowhe’scrankyatmeforit.MarcusHarrisonisrarelylateandit reallydoesnotgodownwellwhenheisforcedtomissmeetings.Iwatch himasImunchonapieceofhoneydewmelonandtakeinhispowerful form.MycheeksheatasIthinkaboutthewayheslammedmybody againsttheshowerwallthismorningandfuckedmesohard…
“Sierra?!”
ItiltmyheadtoseeMarcusstaringatme,hehasanimpatientlook onhisfaceashestormsover.
“Yes?”Iask,shakingthedeliciousmemoriesfrommyhead.
“IsaidIhavetogo.”
“Oh,right.Ok.”
“I’mlate.”
Ismile.“Youshouldn’thavefuckedmeagainandyouwouldn’tbe.”
Hegivesmeadisapprovingglare.“We’renotplayingtheblame gamenow,Ihavetorun.Youwantfood,callmyhousemaidJenniferand shewillgetyouanythingyouneed.Hernumberisonthebench,she’s alwaysinthecomplex.Youknowmynumber,textmeifyouwant anything.I’llseeyoutonight?”
“Ihavestudyingtodo,Ican’tjuststayhereallthetime.”
“I’llhavesomeonetakeyoubacktocollectanybooksyouneedto study.”
“Marcus…”
“Havetogo,later.”
Hekissesmequickly,notlettingmeanswer,thenheturnsandrushes outthedoor.Damnbloodymaniscontrollingme,evenwhenhe’sina hurry.Withasigh,Istareatthedoorawhile,whenIrealizehe’snot goingtocomebackandkissmeproperly,Ipulloutmyphoneandring Quinn.Iknowhe’llbewonderingwhereIamandwhathappenedlast night.Hedoesn’tanswer,soIleavehimavoicemail.
“Quinn,I’malive.I’llbebackinafewhoursandwillfillyouinon thejuicydeets.Loveyou.”
Iclosemyphoneandstarearoundthelargehome.Iseeadarkphone onthecounterandrealizeMarcushasforgottenhisphone.Istandand walkover,pickingitup.It’sgotadozenmessages,andIcan’thelpbut openthem.That’swhenIcomeacrossonefromsomeonenamed Candice.Who’sCandice?Bythelooksofthings,she’shisnewPA.Iread themessagesandseetheyweresentlastnightwhenIwassleeping.A swarmofjealousyfloodsmeattheflirtatioustonebothofthemare using.IknowIshouldn’tbesnoopingorreadingthese.BeforeIcando anymore,Marcuscomesrushingbackin.Ipresstheclosebuttonbefore hecanseeI’mreadinghismessages.
“Forgotmyphone,”hegrumbles,pullingitfrommyhandsandnot evenwonderingwhyIwasholdingit.
“Marcus…”
“Gottogo,late.”
“But…”
He’sgoneagainandthat’senoughformetofeelangryandraw.Ishe flirtingwithhisnewPA?MaybeI’mreadingitwrong?Ican’thelpthe waymyheartthrobsangrilythough,I’mhurtbythewayhespoketoher.
Iclosemyeyesandtrytothink,butmyphonebeginsringing.Istare downatthedisplay.It’snotanumberIhaveinmycontactlist.Ianswer itwithabriskhello.
“Sierra?It’sBen.”
Great.Ican’tescapehim.Hehonestlyjustwon’tstopgettinginmy face.Afterwhathedid,itsurprisesmehe’s
evenbotheringtryingto speakwithme.HeshouldknowmewellenoughtoknowthatIdon’tdeal wellwithpeopleinterferinginmylifeandtryingtocausemepain.
“Ben,whatdoyouwant?You’vedoneenough.”
“Iwasn’ttryingtohurtyou,butIthoughtyouneededtoknow.
Marcuswasusingyou.”
“Areyouserious?Afterwhatyoudidyou’rereallygoingtojudge him.”
“Iwasoutofline,Iadmittedthat.”
“Youscarredmeforlife,inmorewaysthanone!”Ibark.
“AndI’msorry,whatIdid…IhadnoideawhatIwasdoing.Iwasso angryand…”
“Idon’tcare,ok?I’vemovedonandIdon’tcareaboutyouanymore, socanyoujuststophasslingme.”
“Irangyouforareason,Iwanttomakeituptoyou…Iwanttofix whatIbroke.”
“Ben…”
“Iwanttoofferyouaninternshipwithmycompany.”
“What?”Iwhisper.
“IknowyoulostthejobattheWhiteHouse,andIknowthisdoesn’t evencomeclose,butit’sagreatexperienceandI’mwillingtogiveitto you.”
“Why?”Ibreathe,shocked.
“BecauseIhurtyou,andIwanttogiveyousomethingback.”
“Ben…I…”
“Don’tsaynorightoffthebatbecauseyou’reangry.Thisisachance togetyourcareerrolling.”
“Idon’tthinkthisisagoodidea.”
“Marcusreplacedyou,hesurelydidn’texpectyoutonotfindanother job?”
ThinkingofCandicehasmybloodboiling.
“Ijust…”
“Thinkaboutit,”hepleads.“Justthinkaboutitbeforeyousayno, ok?”
StillinshockandadmittedlyhurtoverCandice,IdotheonlythingI can,Isayok.Benhangsupamomentlater,promisingtocallbackina fewdaysformyanswer.IknowMarcuswon’tbehappyaboutthis,butI can’tmakeachoicebasedonhowhewillfeel.God,whyamIeven thinkingaboutthis?Benwasawfultome,Icouldn’tworkforhim.His companyishugethoughandtheexperience,asidefromtheWhiteHouse, wouldbeaoneinamillionchance.Puttingmyheadinmyhands,Isigh deeply.God,whydoIgetallthehardchoices?
IslideoffthekitchenstoolandwalkintoMarcus’roomtore-dress myselfinmydresssoIcanheadbacktocampus.Ireallycan’tjustsit herealldaywaitingforMarcus.Iknowhe’llbeangryatme,butIreally havetocontinuewithmystudyandIamangryathimandCandice,so stayingisn’treallyanoptionrightnow.WhenI’mdressedandready,I headdownstairsandwavedownacab.Onestopsformerightaway,andI slideintothefrontseatandgivehimmyaddress.Hechatscasuallytome theentireway,butIcan’tgetBen’sofferorCandicefrommymind.I needtotalktosomeoneaboutthis.Itrulydo.
WhenIgetbacktocampus,Ipaythedriverandheadbacktomy dorm.WhenIgetin,Ithrowmythingsdown,changeoutofmydressand makemywaytoQuinn’sroom.Iknowhe’llbeinbed,hedoesn’thave classesthismorningbutIneedtotalktohim.WhenIgettohisroom,I knocksoftly,hedoesn’tanswersoIusethekeyhegavemeandslip inside.Iseehimcurledupinhisdoublebed,sleepingonhisstomach.I tiptoeinandslipoffmysandals,thenIcrawlintobedbesidehim.He groansandrollsontohisback.He’swarmfrombeingunderthecovers andIfeelaninstantcomfortasIsnuggleincloser.
“Yousmelllikesex,”hegrumbles.
“Ineedtotalktoyou.”
“Areyoupregnant?”
“What?No.”
“Areyouhurt?”
“No.”
“Didyoumurdersomeone,ordosomethingreallybad?”
“No.”
“Thenletmesleep,”hewhines.
Ishoveathischestandwithagroan,hepullsmeintohisarmssoI amrestingmycheekagainsthischest.
“Whathappened?”hegrumbles.
“Benofferedmeajob.”
“YourexBen?”
“Yes.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah,andMarcuswouldflipifheknew.”
“Whatareyougoingtodo?”
“It’sagreatopportunity,butMarcuswon’tletithappeneasily,andI don’twanttoruinwhatwehave.”
“Youshouldtellhim,Ithinkyoushouldmakethechoiceoverall,but nomoresecrets,youneedtolethimknow.”
Isigh,knowinghe’sright.“He’llflip.”
“Lethim,youonlyneedtoworryaboutdoingtherightthing,not abouthowhe’llreact.”
“Iknow,butwejustgotbacktogetherandthingsarerough.”
“Thenmaybeyouneedtoconsiderchoosingyourbattles,Sierra, maybeyouneedtoletthisonego.”
“It’ssuchagoodchance.”
“Iknowthat,butyousufferedwithoutMarcus.Isitworthrisking himagain?”
Isnuggleintohim.“Whyareyoualwayssosmart?”
“Ohyouknow,Iwasbornthatway.”
“There’ssomethingelse…”
“Sheesh.”
“Isawtextsonhisphonethismorning,tohisnewPA.IthinkIwas readingtoomuchintothem,buttheyseemedflirty.”
“Sierra,”hegroans.“Youcan’tdothat.Whyareyouwithhimifyou don’ttrusthim?”
“Idotrusthim,”Iprotest.
“Really,thenwhydidyoulookathisphone?”
Igosilent.
“Youtwoseriouslyneedtotalk,youshouldn’tbetalkingtomeabout this,youshouldbetalkingtohim.”
“Iknow…”
“Don’treadtoomuchintoit,goandtalktohim.Please!”
“Ok!”Isay,goingsilent.
“Youandyourbootydrama.”
Ichuckle,layamomentlonger,thengetoutofhisbedwithasigh.I reallydoneedtogetsomestudyingdonetoday,andIhaveanafternoon classtoattend.Quinnsitsupandlooksoveratme.“Yougoingtobeok?”
Igivehimthethumbsup.“I’llbefine.”
“Allright,wellI’mgoingbacktobedforafewhours.”
Irollmyeyesathim,flashasmile,andleavehisroom.WhenIget backtomine,Isitatmydeskandfireupmylaptop.Timetogetserious withthisstudying.Iammid-waythroughanextremelydifficultsubject, I’mchewingonmybedandfrowningatthescreen,whenmyphonerings.
Istaredownatthescreen,Marcus.Whydoesn’tthatsurpriseme?Pulling thepenfrommymouth,Ianswerthephone.
“Hey.”
“Youdidn’tstayattheapartment?”
“Ihavestudyingtodo.”
“AndIsaidyoucoulddoitatmyplace.”
“Marcus,”Iwarn,givinghimmybestscoldingtone.
“Don’tsaymynamelikethat.Whydidn’tyoustay?”
“Iwantedtocomebackanddomystudy,andIhaveanafternoon class,ok?”
Hesighsdeeply.“Fine,I’llpickyouupafterwork.”
“No,it’sok,I’llmeetyouatyourplace.”
“Sierra…”
“Marcus,please,Idon’tneedyoutocontrolmeeverywhereIgo.”
Hesighsdeeply.“Fine,I’llmeetyouthere.”
“Thankyou.”
“Issomethingwrong,Sierra?”
“We’lltalklaterok?”
“Sierra.”
“Ihavetogo,Marcus,”Isay,cuttinghimoff.“Bye.”
Whenhehangsup,Ihangmyheadandsigh.IknowI’mkeepinghim atarm’slength,butIcan’thelpit,I’msoscaredofgettinghurtagainand whilethingsaresoupintheair,Idon’twanttogiveupmycontrol.I’m inlovewithMarcus,thatmuchIknow,butsometimeshisneedfor controlfrightensmeandIwonderifhe’sforcedtogiveitup,ifhe’llgive meup,too.It’spetty,Iknow,butIcan’thelpmyfeelingsandhowthey affectmyeverydaylifeandmyrelationshipwithaman,whoisso dominant,Ithinkhe’sforgottenhowtoliveanyotherway.
Igetback
tomystudy.Byearlyafternoon,I’vedoneasmuchasI can.Igathermybackpackandheadouttoclass.It’salong,drearyclass andIdon’tfinishupuntilwellafterfouro’clock.WhenI’mdoneand I’vegottenbacktomyroom,IseeamassofmissedcallsfromMarcus.
Sighing,Ipickupthephone,buthehasn’tleftanymessages.Idropmy bagandtakeaquickshowerbeforechangingandgatheringsomeclothes forthenight.I’mjustpickingupmybagwhenapoundingonthedoor hasmyheadsnappingaround.
Rushingover,IopenthedoortofindMarcusstanding.He’spanting withrageandhiseyesarewild.He’snotwearingthesuitfromwork,but insteadworkoutclothes.Ablacksingletandloosecottonshorts.He’s sweating,hisbodyissowoundup,Icanseetheveinsinhisneck.Iknew Marcusexercised,butwhatdidhedo,runoverhere?Whyisherunning atthistimeoftheafternoonanyway,that’snotlikehim?Iopenmy mouthtospeak,buthebargespastmeandslamsthedoor.Ispinaround, confused.HaveIdonesomethingwrong?
“Whenwereyougoingtotellme?”hebarks.
Inshock,ittakesmeamomenttoprocesshimbeingheresoIcan answer.“Tellyouwhat?”
“ThatyoutookajobwithBen!”heroars,spinningaroundand runninghishandsthroughhishair.
What?
“Ididn’t…Ididn’ttakeajobwithhim.”
“Bullshit,don’tyoulietome,Sierra.”
“Hecontactedmethismorning,Ididn’tsayIwasgoingtodo anything,Iwasgoingtospeaktoyoufirstand…”
“Areyoustupid,Sierra?”
“Ibegyourpardon?”Isnap,crossingmyarms.
“Youheardme?Doyouhonestlythinkthatmanhasyourbest interestsatheart?Doyouhonestlythinkhe’sgenuineaboutgivingyoua job?”
“Idon’tknow,that’swhyIwasgoingtotalkwithyou!”Icry, throwingmyhandsup.
“Hewantstofuckyou.Heknowswhatwe’redoingandhewantsto claimbackhiscontrol.Hehasnointerestingivingyouajobforyour benefit,it’sforhis.Howcouldyoubesonaive?”
Igapeathim.“Oh,sohe’sjustdoingwhatyoudidthen?”
Hiseyesflarewithrageandhestormsforward.“Iwouldneverhurt you,notever.Meandhimarenotthesame,don’tyouevercompareus again.”