by Chloe Lane
I almost moan out loud at the words—that’s how hot they feel to me, like a raging inferno. But instead, I nod meekly. “I know, Senator.”
“Be at my apartment at nine.”
I swallow hard, my heart beating fast. “Is there—is there anything specific I should wear?”
He looks me up and down, a light shining in his eyes that matches, somehow, the seriousness of the expression on his face. “You will wear what you have on.”
He doesn’t have to say what he’s thinking. You won’t be wearing it for long.
Chapter 22
Senator Sterling
I have to make three separate trips to the bathroom throughout the afternoon to keep my cock under control. Marci does need a reminder that I’m in control here—that nothing is going to happen to her, even if that photographer was there for us. Well, maybe not nothing. We’re still both in danger of losing our jobs, of being mocked all over DC, but another thought has taken root since I slept with her embraced snugly in my arms last night and woke up to her tousled dark hair spread across my pillow this morning.
Even if we do lose our jobs, I can’t give her up. I won’t.
I’ve never been so swept away by a woman before. My political career has been my main focus since I graduated college, and every other woman I’ve been with simply couldn’t hold my attention in comparison to the grand game of politics, in comparison to the way people trust me, pour their souls into emails and phone calls, and hope for me to make a change for them. Any attraction I had with those women burned out too soon, too fast. They would start to grate on my nerves, or demand more from me than I could offer. But Marci—
Marci gives herself up to me, submits to me in such a pretty way, losing herself in it completely, and then holds her own with me out in public at dinner. My heart beats jaggedly at the sight of her, at the sound of her voice, and something deep inside tells me that I will never tire of her. Never.
When I saw her sleeping so peacefully on my pillow this morning, I wanted to see her like that in places all over the world, on elegant vacations I don’t need my Senator’s salary to afford. The Sterling family is already wealthy, and I’m the only son. My business sense has reassured my mother time and again that I’m more than capable of handling wealth. She won’t have a problem with me taking my gorgeous wife across the globe.
Wife. I laugh to myself when the word comes to mind. We’re not there yet—we may never be there—but I think Marci has similar thoughts.
But I can’t dwell on making her my wife, not when I’m supposed to be paying attention in a committee meeting. It’s difficult as hell. I just want it to be nine o’clock.
I let her leave the office early for the day, watching her depart with a little spring in her step, a flush of color in her cheeks, and I relish it, the way she must be feeling a little nervous, a little shy.
I make another trip to the bathroom, wrap my fist around my cock, and work myself until I explode, thick ropes of come spilling into the toilet. I haven’t been this horny since I was in college. Marci is turning back the clock. What I want is for her to be at home with me every single evening. Maybe then I could get through the day without resorting to numerous furtive trips to the men’s room like this.
I sigh and reach for a length of bathroom tissue, clean myself up, and go back to my office to try to focus on work.
She’s right on time, and I arrange my face into a stern expression before I open the door. She’s biting her lower lip when the door swings open. Her nervousness has only increased since she left the office. Good. It’ll heighten the sensations.
I’m not going to do anything she can’t handle, but I have a sense that Marci’s going to love this.
I certainly will.
“Come in, Kitten.”
“Yes, Senator.” She whispers the word and steps inside, lowering her eyes to the carpet. My cock stiffens against my zipper. She’s already in the moment, already playing her part, and it’s damn delicious how it straddles the line between fantasy and reality.
“Your coat.” She helps me slide it off her shoulders, her purse coming along with it, and I hang them both on the coat rack before turning back to her. “You know why you’re here, don’t you?”
“Yes, Senator,” she says, and glances up at me, her green eyes questioning. I give her a nod. “I’m here to be punished. For letting my…my fears get the best of me at work.”
“That’s right. Are you ready to submit to your punishment?”
“Yes, Senator.” She twists her hands in front of her, eyes glued to the floor, but she also squares her shoulders. That’s my girl.
“My office. Now.”
She goes obediently down the hall, hips swaying, high heels muffled by the carpet, and turns into my office. I flick on the light, then take her by the arm, guiding her toward the massive desk. The surface is empty—I removed every last thing before she got here—because I want it to look imposing. Her little intake of breath tells me I got it right.
“Bend over the desk.”
She crosses over to the wooden expanse and bends over it, her ass lifted.
I go to make adjustments.
“Hold on here.” I guide her hands to the other side, stretching her so that her breasts are pressed against the surface. Then I tap my fingers between her legs. She’s not wearing tights—was she wearing them earlier? I can’t remember. “Wider.” I press a hand to the small of her back, and she arches instinctively, putting her ass in the perfect position for what I’m about to do, and then spreads her legs another few inches apart. She’s breathing harder and faster now. When I lift her skirt, she’ll be totally exposed.
“Hold your position.”
“Yes, Senator.”
I hook my fingers over the hem of her skirt and lift, folding it up around her hips. She’s wearing a lacy thong, and I resist the urge to rip it off of her. Instead, I click my tongue.
“Being punished means a bare bottom.” I tug the thong down so she can feel it against her skin, just below her ass. Her hands tense on the desk.
“Yes, Senator.”
I rub my hands over the fleshy swell of her ass, feeling little trembles quaking through her legs, but she stays in place. Then I step behind her, out of her line of sight, place my hands on her cheeks and spread her wide, letting the air into her most secret place. Marci gasps out loud, but she bites back whatever question was coming to her lips. She has a real instinct for this. I let the silence linger, watching the moisture gather between her folds. That’s just the effect I wanted.
I put one finger on the small of her back and trace it down, lower, lower, until I’m pressing the pad firmly against her crinkled button. Her breath is quick, uncertain, but she doesn’t move away.
“First things first,” I say, adding a little more pressure. “We need to make sure you’re paying attention.”
Chapter 23
Marci
I’m burning up, I’m being consumed by my need for him, by my need for this. I can hardly think. I can hardly do anything, except react to his hands on me. My pussy is soaked.
The Senator has his finger in a place I never imagined anyone would ever touch.
He has his finger there, my ass spread wide for him, and I like it. I like it. Oh, my God… I love it.
He removes his finger and I press my ass back toward him, just an inch, not enough to be breaking position—those are the rules, I’m supposed to stay where I am—but I can’t help myself, my body just reacts, and I stay as still as I can, despite the trembling that takes over. Every inch of my skin is on fire with anticipation.
He opens one of the drawers in the desk, and moments later there’s a cool sensation on my hole. Lube. Oh, my God, what is he going to do? I open my mouth to ask, but—no. No, I’m going to be a good girl. I’m going to take my punishment. I’m going to let this happen, because I…I like it. My face is scarlet. My hands tremble on the desk. But I like it.
There’s pressure at my hole
again, and the Senator’s voice breaks into my thoughts. “Every part of you is mine,” he says, his voice low, smooth, the sound spiraling between my legs.
“Even—” The word is a gasp. “Even there?”
“Even your little asshole. Yes, Kitten. Open up for me. Relax. We won’t take this farther than you can handle. I promise.”
I take a deep breath, and when I do, he presses inside, just the tip of his finger, and I moan out loud. It’s tight. There can’t be enough room, but there is. He presses farther inside that dark secret channel.
“Relax. That’s a good girl.” I spread my legs a little wider, pressing back toward him, taking his finger in, desperate to please. In moments, it’s all the way inside up to his knuckle, the slick lube playing its part. “Good girl,” he says, approving, and heat rushes all over my body. “It’s all the way in. See? That wasn’t so hard.”
He reverses course, drawing the finger out, and I focus on relaxing, relaxing, even while I tighten my grip on the desk. He grabs for something in the drawer, and then there’s another pressure at my hole—something smooth, and a little bigger.
“This is to keep your mind focused on your punishment,” he says, pressing it against my opening. “Relax and let it in.”
It’s thicker than the finger—much thicker—and it spreads me so that I suck in a breath. There’s a burning as he works his way past what feels like a ring of fire, and I barely manage to keep my hands in place. It gets wider, wider, and the Senator is saying something soothing, something commanding, and then my hole clamps down on a narrower section.
“Good,” the Senator praises. “Your plug is in.”
I don’t think my face can get any redder. A butt plug. I’m bent over the Senator’s desk, being punished, and he’s put a butt plug in my asshole. Oh, my God. Oh, my God. And I can’t deny the wetness between my legs. I can’t deny how much this is turning me on. I can’t deny how much I want this, how much I’ve needed this without even knowing.
The Senator strokes two fingers down my hot slit, and I don’t turn to look—I’m sure that would count as breaking position—but I know from the sound that he’s taken them into his mouth. “You like this, don’t you, Kitten?”
“Yes, Senator…” I admit it in a small voice, and in response, he rubs a hand over the skin of my ass.
“Are you ready to take your punishment?”
“The butt plug isn’t punishment?”
“Judging by how wet you are,” he says, the hint of a laugh in his voice, “I don’t think it is. But it will keep your attention back here, where it belongs.” Another rush of nervousness fills my chest. I might not enjoy this. It might really be a punishment. The anticipation is killing me.
Something shifts in the air, and the Senator moves so that he’s standing slightly to the side of me. He rests one hand on the small of my back, putting a pressure there that’s something more than gentle but something less than restraining, but it’s right on the line. He circles the palm of his other hand over my upturned ass.
“I expect you to perform to the best of your abilities at the office, Kitten.”
A hot rush of shame spills down my back. “Yes, Senator.”
“I can’t have you distracted and letting things slide.”
“I would—” I bite back the excuse. I might not have let anything fall through the cracks yet, but it could happen. “Yes, Senator.”
“You need to trust me. You need to know that no matter what happens, I will protect you.”
“Yes, Senator.”
“You belong to me.” This is my chance. I sense it in the air. This is my chance to say, no, I don’t. I belong to myself, and I am not yours. But I’ve never wanted anything more than I want to be his, and so I take in a breath.
“I belong to you.”
“Every part of you.”
“Every part of me.”
“Ten strokes.”
I gasp. “What?”
“Ten strokes of my hand on your bare bottom. You need to remember that I am in charge, that you are mine, and that you are safe. Are you ready for your punishment?”
The energy inside of me bucks and roils, threatening to explode outward. “Yes, Senator.” I can’t disguise the quiver in my voice.
“Hold your position.” He taps at the small of my back, and I raise my ass another quarter of an inch.
Then he draws back his hand. There’s a whisper in the air, a tiny breeze, and then it crashes against my left cheek, stinging, but oh, it makes me want his fingers on my pussy, his cock buried deep inside me. I stifle a moan.
His hand crashes down again.
Chapter 24
Senator Sterling
Marci’s pale bottom turns pink under my hand, but with every stroke, her pussy glistens more and she pushes her ass out toward me without quite breaking the rules. By the time I land the last stroke, her wetness is streaming down the insides of her thighs.
My cock is going to burst out of my pants, and so I undo my zipper and let it free, running my palm over her cheeks again. She moans a little as I do, her hands still on the desk.
“You’re not supposed to enjoy your punishment quite so much, Kitten.” I try to keep my voice light, but I’m overwhelmed with the need to fuck her. Right now. Right here.
“I—I know. I’m a bad girl—” She gasps as I plunge my fingers into her opening, wriggling back onto them. “I’m so bad.”
“No, you’re a good girl. You’re following all the rules so well.” I fuck her with three fingers, and finally she lets go of the desk with one hand, putting a knuckle between her teeth. She moves her legs apart another few inches, her pose positively obscene, positively the sexiest thing I think I’ve ever seen, and that’s what pushes me over the edge.
I take the lace scrap of her panties and jerk them between my hands, the fabric coming undone and dropping to the floor. Now there’s not a single thing between us.
Marci presses her breasts down onto the surface of the desk, raising her ass toward me again. The skin is still rosy, and the sight of it makes me painfully hard.
“Oh, please, please…”
“What are you begging for, Kitten? I love the sound of it.”
“Please, Senator, I need you.”
“What do you need from me?” I’m already lining up my cock with her opening, reaching up to press on the butt plug, pushing it a little deeper into her, drawing out another gasp.
“I need you to fuck me. Please. Please. I can’t wait. I can’t—”
“I wouldn’t make you wait.” Her legs are wide apart, but I want more from her. “Reach back and spread yourself open for me.”
She does it without hesitating, her chest flat on the desk, delicate hands pulling at the dip between her bottom and her thighs, her pink folds on display. I run two fingers down a new stream of wetness. She’s panting, not quite taking full enough breaths.
“Do you like this, Kitten? Opening yourself for me so that I can fuck you with my thick cock?”
“Yes,” she says. “I’m—oh, I shouldn’t like this. I shouldn’t.”
“But you do like it.”
“I love it.” She answers me with such honesty in her voice, and her face turns a deeper shade of scarlet, but she doesn’t release her grip. “I love it, Senator, I need it, please, please…”
Her begging is so sweet that I can’t wait any longer, can’t wait another second. I take my cock in my hand and guide it right to her opening, pushing in. Marci is so tight that despite how wet she is, there’s a little resistance, and the sensation almost makes me come right then. I grit my teeth and force myself not to give in as I work myself into her depths inch by inch.
She spreads herself as wide as she can with her hands, moves her legs as wide as she can without losing her balance, every effort concentrated on taking all of me in. It doesn’t look like I should fit—she has delicate hips, lithe legs—but her pussy swallows me up until at last I bottom out, my balls pressed against her.
“Oh—” Marci moves her hips in little circles, relishing the sensation.
“That’s all of me, Kitten. Every inch.”
“It feels so big.” It’s somewhere between a groan and a gasp and my cock twitches in response. “It feels so good.”
“How does this feel?” I lean back to draw myself out—not all of me, just a few inches—and at the same time reach for the butt plug, pulling it out and pushing it back in as my cock mimics the motion.
She can hardly breathe, hardly get the words out. “You’re—you’re—”
“I’m fucking both your holes, yes. And you’re taking it like such a good girl.”
There’s no delay between the words and her first crashing, thundering orgasm. Marci’s ass clenches tight around the butt plug, sucking it in, and her pussy does the same, massaging my cock with the rhythm of her coming. She’s not bothering to cover her mouth, and in this moment I don’t care who hears her. I just up the pace, losing myself in her slick wetness, in the tight glove of her body, and seconds later another orgasm comes, squeezing my cock so tight I let out an animal growl.
“Squeeze tighter, Kitten,” I command through gritted teeth, and she does, but the act of it pushes her over the precipice into yet another gushing orgasm around me.
That’s it. That’s the last of my control. I put both hands on her hips and pull her backward, hard, pushing into her with as much force as I can, and then I explode inside her, all of my muscles throwing themselves into my release.
It doesn’t matter that I’ve come four other times today. I empty myself, streams of it shooting out of my body, and it seems like a long time before I come down on the other side.
Against the desk, Marci smiles, breathing hard, like she’s just finished a workout. I pull out of her, then lift her into a standing position.
“My legs are Jell-O,” she says against my chest, her voice suffused with satisfaction, with real joy.