“You made me cum all over you,” said Lucy. “You don’t think that constitutes as sexual behaviour?”
“That was different and you know it!” spat Heath, clearly growing impatient. “Kindly leave, Lucy. I can’t…I can’t have clients that behave like this.”
Lucy slowly walked towards him, loving the heavy thud her boots made with each step and the way her tits bounced in the bra. He couldn’t fail to notice. She stopped before him and leaned forward, planting her hands on the arms of his chair and all but shoving her barely restrained chest in his face. “What do you know?” she said. “Looks like I’m not a client any more. So how does this fit into your, how should I put this, moral standpoint?”
Heath had leaned back, aiming to put as much space between his face and her skin as possible.
His innocence is a fucking ruse, Lucy thought. I can see where he’s looking…
“Just leave. Please.”
Please. She liked that.
Lucy stared down at him. “Okay. I’ll leave. There’s just something I want to give you first…”
“There’s nothing that you can—”
As he spoke, Lucy quickly reached into her now very accessible blouse and grabbed the object nestled between her moist skin and the waistband of her miniskirt. The metal had warmed from her body. She ripped out the already opened handcuffs and slapped the bracelet on Heath’s right wrist. The metal snapped shut with a satisfying click. John and his imagination had their uses.
Heath snatched his arm away. “What the fuck is this?” he cried. He stared in shock at the shiny silver handcuffs that hung from his wrist. “You’re handcuffing me?”
“Guess all those qualifications make you some kind of genius,” said Lucy. She tugged up her skirt and pounced on him before he could stand from the chair. He fought, struggling to rise and throw her off. She squeezed him between her thighs, riding him hard to keep him in the chair.
God I wish he was hard, Lucy thought, grinding against him. Guess his cock also adheres to strict ethical guidelines…
“You’re crazy!” he said, batting away her arms she made a grab for the handcuffs.
Lucy leaned closer and seized a handful of Heath’s ponytail made of long dreadlocks. She pulled them tight, whipping back his head. The therapist yowled and stared into her eyes as she bore down on him.
“I’m not leaving until I give you this…”
Heath resisted but another firm tug on his hair made him nice and compliant.
Lucy brought her face ever closer and, keeping a firm grip on him, placed a delicate kiss at the corner of his mouth. Her whispered words slipped seductively into his ear. “Thank you for giving me my confidence back. Turns out I am a goddess after all.”
Seconds passed with a fight or struggle. Lucy stayed in his lap, loving the tight muscle she felt bulging against her body. Heath breathed slow and deep and stayed completely still. Lucy worried that this was it, that the young man was catching his breath ready for a final push. She’d be on the floor in seconds, looking foolish with her skirt around her waist and breasts hanging out of her top. Heath would be on the phone to the police, and that would be all she wrote.
He smiled. “You’re the first one,” he said. “Do you know how many women I treat here? How many women have their confidence returned so they can go back to their shitty lives and their shitty husbands? Nothing changes. But you…you, dear Lucy, I made a difference, didn’t I? The treatment worked. Although your methods are a little extreme.” To prove the point, he lifted his arm and rattled the handcuffs that hung there.
Lucy laughed, the absurdity of the situation hitting her. “It was a bit, wasn’t it? But I felt…powerful. Like I could have anything if I wanted it.”
“And what do you want?”
Lucy pressed against him. “You.” She kissed him fully on the lips. He didn’t reciprocate, nor did he reject her. Her hand snaked down his neck, over his firm chest and stomach and to his shorts. She cupped the impressive bulge. “And this.”
She forced her lips back to his, and this time, with her hand starting to stroke his growing erection, he met her passion. A moan escaped her. She knew she had him.
His hard cock sprang out with a quick tug of his shorts. Lucy wasted no time to explore the thick length before shoving her hand lower, cradling his balls.
Heath broke the kiss. “The door’s not locked.”
“Fuck the door.”
“What if someone comes in?”
“Then this will make a good bloody advertisement for your services,” she replied. “Now, put your arms behind your back.”
“What? Why?”
“Because I’m the goddess, remember? Now do as you’re fucking told.” She grabbed his sack harder, the skin sliding over the sensitive bumps inside. Heath emitted a short yelp and quickly complied with her demands, be it with a small smirk on his face.
Lucy clicked the free silver bracelet around his other wrist. Happy he’d stay put – and not just because of the handcuffs now! – she climbed off him and kneeled on the floor, grinning the whole time. Finally she could pop those last few buttons free and throw off her blouse. Her bra followed, and she stared up at her captive, pumping his cock and massaging the head with her thumb to encourage those tasty first drops.
The first thick ivory drop emerged from Heath’s narrow slit. Lucy licked it off.
“Mmm,” she said.
Heath shivered and groaned.
Lucy swept her hair to the side to give him the full show and placed her tongue on the underside of his crown. Teasing the responsive ridge of skin, she reached down between her legs and inside her skirt. Poking her fingers through the holes in the fishnets and pulling her sodden underwear aside, she gave her own demanding crevice some attention.
“Christ,” he moaned.
Feeling his cock bob against her face, Lucy reached up and lubricated his swollen head with her own pungent juice. Unable to wait any longer, she stood, turned and pulled her tights and underwear down around her knees. Lifting her skirt, she showed off her cooze by holding her lips apart.
“Now we’re going to see just how good a sex therapist you really are,” said Lucy. She manoeuvred back and sat in his lap. He poked into her bum cheek, but with a little help, his root slipped up and inside. Lucy shoved her body down, impaling herself to the hilt. This is what she’d needed all this time. Heath’s fingers were something special, but nothing matched a good hard fuck.
“Time for me to make you squirt this time…” she growled.
***
John didn’t even look up when Lucy returned home and marched into the lounge. She found him, as ever, hunched over his beloved keyboard, contemplating the lines of text onscreen. Only when she stood before him did he glance over the monitor, and she relished his reaction.
“What’s got into you?” he said, staring her up and down. “You’re a mess!”
Lucy imagined that she did look a state. Her blouse was untucked, she’d laddered her fishnets and her hair…
She smiled, seeing Heath, untied and unrestrained, thrusting into her over the massage table, her hair wrapped around his fist.
You should see the other mess he made…
“How’s the new book coming along?” she said, ignoring his question.
He threw up his hands. “You know the story.”
“I think I do now.” She threw the handcuffs at him. He flinched as they clattered onto the desk. “Have I got a story for you…”
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If you enjoyed this book, perhaps you would enjoy the dirty secrets of the other characters in the MOSAIC series?
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What Lucy Wants (Mosaic) Page 3