So Much Trouble: Bad Boy Forbidden Love Romance Collection (So Wrong It's Right Book 4)

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So Much Trouble: Bad Boy Forbidden Love Romance Collection (So Wrong It's Right Book 4) Page 105

by Jamie Knight


  “You’ve been a very naughty girl, haven’t you?”

  “Yes, sir,” I replied, a thrill running through me.

  “You were showing your body. Trying to tempt me.”

  “Yes, sir, I was.”

  “Are you a dirty little temptress?” he asked.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Say it!”

  “I’m a dirty little temptress!” I said, the words coming out almost as one.

  He lifted my skirt and put a hand between my thighs, stroking my pussy through my panties.

  “That wasn’t very nice, was it? Distracting me while I was trying to work.”

  “No, sir, it wasn’t. I am very, very naughty.”

  “You do realize that I am going to have to punish you.”

  “Yes,” I said, the word coming out like a sigh of desire.

  Using one hand to hold me down, pressing me even harder into his cock, he used his other hand to pull my panties down and off; I bent my knees to help him near the end. Forcing my legs apart with his hand, he softly stroked my pussy, making me hum with the pressure. If that was meant to be punishment, I was all for it! Pride comes before the fall.

  The first strike landed hard, the flat of his palm meeting the flesh of my ass with a resounding smack. My whole body jerked as I let out a yelp of pain, but Damien held me fast as he struck again. He gave me two more spanks on the other cheek to even things out and then began to gently massage me, kneading soft, reddened flesh as though it were dough.

  I again hummed with pleasure, my pussy getting almost embarrassingly wet. It was clear to both of us that I loved rough treatment – or, more accurately, I loved rough treatment immediately followed by soft. There was something about control and roughness that both mentally and physically prepared me, making the pleasure even more intense. As good as Damien was at the rough stuff, I also had to give high compliments to his aftercare.

  After holding me down on his lap and fingering me until I came, Damian picked me up with both arms and placed me on the floor in front of him so I was knee high, leaning between his legs. I leaned in, putting my hands on my thighs and watching, licking my lips with anticipation as Damien unzipped his pants.

  His beautiful cock was already rock hard and ready for me. My nostrils flared with just the smell of it. I could hardly wait to get it into my mouth.

  “Suck,” Damien said.

  Like a shot, I was off to the races, sucking and pumping his massive shaft for all I was worth, getting it more than halfway onto my mouth. He held still but moaned, putting his hand on the back of my head, urging me to go even deeper.

  Taking as this as both command and compliment, I took a breath though my nose, closed my eyes, and deep-throated, getting his cock a surprising distance down my young throat before needing to release for breath. Doing that a few more times, feeling for one brief moment like I was bobbing for apples, my sweet master gifted me with his cum, blasting a massive torrent right down my throat with not a single drop wasted.

  Taking me gently by the shoulders, my sweet master guided me to my feet. Taking me by the hand, he led me around to the side of the table, far from the work documents, and bent me over. He wound my braid around his hand, taking control, using his other hand to finger me deep. His strong, gentle fingers worked inside my tight pussy, getting me ready. Within minutes, I was coming all over the place, ready for anything he might want to do.

  What he did was slide the bulk of his cock into my pussy, stopping at about half mast. Easing into it with short, sharp pumps, he kept going harder until he was pounding me so hard that the highlighters went bouncing from the table and onto the floor. My screams were muffled by his hand.

  I felt the rushing flood as Damien came inside me, warming me to the core. I didn’t know if he had done it on purpose or not, but, either way, it was lovely. It was irresponsible and stupid, and I should have been worried, but, for some reason, the panic never really struck me.

  I was too wrapped up in my feelings for Damien and my relief that he still wanted me. I didn’t know how it would affect things between us, it still being too early to call it a “relationship,” or what might happen when things got back to normal, but I decided to just enjoy it while we were there.

  He braced me against him. Good thing, as my knees were being quite useless at the time. He released my braid and kissed me on my shoulder, my neck, my cheek.

  “Are you okay?”

  “More than okay. I love it. Though, I’m not sure you do.”

  “Hey?”

  “I mean, it’s really fun. Of course it is. But, you just seem a bit conflicted. I think we should talk about where we’re headed before we do it again.”

  He gently pulled out of me, stroking my pussy as he went to make things go easier, filling me with pleasure once again. Damn, he was good at that.

  “That’s fair,” he said, cleaning us both off, “to be honest, this is all pretty new to me, too. I’ve never felt like this about anyone before. I don’t know what will happen, especially with work, but I do want to keep doing it. Come what may.”

  I could feel them fluttering in my stomach: huge, colorful butterflies of love and hope. As we finished the work for the day, I would occasionally glance at him. Damien appeared to have changed. For better or worse, I couldn’t quite tell, though I did hope that things could work out.

  Chapter Seven - Emma

  It was like veil was lifted. Things still weren’t perfect, of course, not at least because of the situation we were in. There were still a lot of unknowns, though I still felt like we were on much better footing. We’d had wonderful sex without things getting too uncomfortably weird when it came to work, at least not for very long, and we’d had something resembling an open discussion about it.

  At the very least, I knew that that he had some sort of feelings for me, and that I had had affected him in a way no other woman ever had. It wouldn’t be right to call it “love,” but it was something powerful and beautiful, and not to be dismissed. Even if it turned out we were best as “fuck-buddies,” just two extremely sexually compatible friends who had fun, I was pretty sure I could handle that.

  He was the only man I would ever let touch me; as long as we could be together in some capacity, I would at least be content. I wanted a lot more, though. Marriage, kids, a happy life together… but, I also knew that life is rarely that wonderful.

  We worked clear though to dinner time. It was then, and only then, that I realized that we didn’t really have much food in the suite, and that delivery might be awkward. Donning a designer face mask and pure leather gloves, Damien went out to get groceries, coming back with several bags full.

  Assuming he expected me to cook, I started to get up so I could go over and join him. My sweater and skirt had returned to their original state; I wanted him to fuck me again so badly, but I also knew that the work was really important. It was what we were there to do, after all. Keeping my focus on the work, I did my best to be a good girl for my sweet master.

  “Sit,” he ordered.

  “Yes, sir,” I said, instinctively going into my submissive voice.

  “Sorry, I just need that script done. I am more than capable of cooking.”

  “You are?”

  “Of course I am. This kitchenette is actually pretty well set up. I’m going to enjoy this.”

  Changing into a sweatshirt and shorts to avoid getting any unfortunate stains on his lovely work clothes, Damien set about cooking a gourmet-level meal as I finished the last of the scripts before we went into dictation.

  “Wow!” I said, nearly orgasming at the first bite of food.

  “Went to cooking school in Italy. I almost finished too.”

  “Why did you quit?” I asked.

  “Oh, I didn’t, my parents found out what I was doing and ordered me back immediately. Or, rather, my father did. My mom was an opera singer who had more of an appreciation for the arts. Dad’s personal motto was, ‘If it don’t make dollars, it don’
t make sense.’ Grammar was never his strong suit.”

  I giggled, nearly choking on the mouthful I had been chewing at the time, making quickly for the glass of red.

  After dinner, Damien cleared everything away as I finished off the script. It was amazing to watch him speed read. I didn’t know he could do it, even with the highlighting, but he did, getting through the entire script in a little over a half hour. When he was finished, I had a bit of a break as he processed it all, lying on the couch, eyes closed, his fingers steeped on his chest. He was like Sherlock Holmes trying to unravel a mystery.

  He jumped up in a way that made me scream a little in surprise, apparently full of new vim and vigor.

  “Get out the laptop!” he said like a declaiming king.

  Immediately obeying, I tried desperately to keep up as he dictated his argument, pacing around the room at high speed. I only understood about half of what he said, but still took it all down as faithfully as I could.

  It was wonderful, being naked. I had never been great friends with the notion of bras; the one that I was wearing was flung across the room with abandon. Getting into something a lot more comfortable, fleece pants and a hoodie, I turned down the duvet, ready to go to bed as Damien reviewed the dictation, editing as needed. The knocks were light and rapid. There was only one person in the world it could be.

  “Hi,” Damien said, having calmed down a lot since his strike of inspiration.

  “Hello, sir,” I said, not sure if we were still being business-like or not.

  “Could you be a dear and go down to the desk to see if they have Kicking Horse? I’m neck-deep in the revisions and need a pick-me-up. I meant to get some at the store, but the shelves were bare. I called down to have them send some up, but they’re not picking up.”

  “Okay,” I said, ready and willing to fulfill his every wish and command.

  Skipping the silent elevators, I took the stairs down to the lobby; I was pent up with quite a bit of sexual energy that I figured I would have to work out myself, with Damien being so busy. The girl at the desk was nice enough, if a little ditzy, especially for someone working in such an elite hotel as the Seventy.

  “Really?” she asked though her mask. “Didn’t see a light flashing or anything. Really sorry about that.”

  With several more apologies, she went into the back and came out a few minutes later, still apologizing, but also carrying a bag of ground coffee, which was really the most important thing.

  I pushed the button for the elevator, once again tuckered out enough to want to go to bed. It had been a long but productive day, and the project was nearly finished. It really was a masterpiece of evidence and reason. I didn’t know much about such things, but I really couldn’t see a way that he could lose.

  The lock clicked softly, granting me entrance to the suite. Damien was nowhere to be seen, so I figured he must be in the shower or something. Putting the bag down on the counter of the kitchenette, right next to the coffee maker so it would be easy to find, I went to the adjoining bedroom, stripping off my clothes as I went.

  I could have cried, the shock so severe and sudden I actually dropped to my knees. In the middle of the bedroom, naked as the day he was born, was my sweet master, his beautiful cock hard and ready to pleasure me. Scattered around him on the floor were pink and white rose petals, formed in the shape of a heart and repeated on the bed itself. So, that was why the clerk hadn’t seen any calls. It was all a cunning ruse to get me out of the room. Very clever.

  “I’ve called for room service. They will be up in about an hour to set up so we can eat after. I figure you’ll need some energy when I get through with you… Though, for right now, why don’t we get right down to it and celebrate our love properly?”

  “Yes, sir,” I said, tears of joy streaming down my face.

  He scooped me up into his strong arms and carried me over to the bed.

  Chapter Eight - Damien

  She really was quite light. I loved being able to carry her around, her arms wrapped around my neck, her face pressed gently to my chest. I walked though the roses, laying her down in the middle of the heart. Her legs opened as though by instinct, so I backed away to look at her. It was interesting how closely her delicate, pink pussy resembled the delicate, pink petals.

  I worked my way up her thighs with long, loving caresses, gently stroking my sweet little pet when I got there. She hummed and moaned beautifully, letting me know how much she loved it and how much I was pleasuring her. I had always been thought of as kinky, but there was something no one really knew:

  Far from getting off on causing pain, as was the negative stereotype, I was actually after pleasure, not for me, but for the one I was with. I was kinky, to be sure, but my kink was something of a rare one; basically, I got more pleasure out of giving pleasure than getting it. Watching the expression of pure bliss on a lover’s face, or hearing their screams of unbridled joy, did me in every time.

  Getting her nice and relaxed, I reached over with my other hand and slid open the drawer in the nightstand. I did it quietly, so that she wouldn’t look over and see it before I was ready, so she wouldn’t ruin the surprise. I had done a lot in the room to prepare for her arrival, even with the short window of time I had. The petals on the floor and the bed were just the start of it.

  I usually liked to use handcuffs; they restricted movement a lot more effectively than anything else, except maybe zip-ties, but they were dangerous. Not wanting Emma to get hurt, I went pretty far the other way, producing from the drawer, like a magician pulling a rabbit from a hat, three lengths of silk rope.

  Emma cooperated beautifully as I bound her hands, bringing them above her head and running the rope through the middle three rails on the headboard. Bringing the two ends back down, I carefully tied each of her wrists using a slipknot; it was easy to release, just not by her. After securing the two remaining ropes to posts at the foot of the bed, I tied her ankles, leaving her spread eagle on the bed.

  I stroked her cheek to let her know all was well. She nuzzled my hand and kissed it. A merciful and generous master, I gave her two of my fingers to suck, which she did with great gusto.

  Running my hand over her chin, down her neck and between her tits, I continued down, over her belly, across her pelvis and onto her pussy. Leaving my fingers there for a moment, I began to stroke her on the outside of her pussy in slow, hard circles, each one passing right over her clit. She moaned long and deep, her eyes closed with pleasure.

  Laying a hand on her belly, I angled my fingers and slid them up inside her in such a way that each stroke would hit both her clit and her G-spot. Using a gentle, ‘come here’ motion, I pleasured her sweet little pussy, bringing her to a massive G-spot orgasm.

  I could hardly believe I had actually found her: a women I could honestly, deeply love, in the way written about in books. I had given up long ago, deciding such whimsical notions to be as real as Oz or Neverland, that they were ideas made up by mere mortals and sold to others to help them feel better about the cold emptiness of existence... I was something of a cynic at the time.

  The more I was with Emma, though, the more I began to question my long-held opinions. I still believed that there were things people said to get by, little white lies told, particularly to ourselves, to make life easier. However, I was beginning to suspect that love was not one of them.

  When she was ready, I started in on her again, working her up in a similar way as before. This time, however, when I felt her beginning to cum, the strong, young muscles of her tight, pink pussy getting tight around my fingers, making the fit even more snug than usual, I stopped.

  She actually whimpered as I held fast, my fingers still inside her, her body visibly relaxing as she came down from a near-orgasmic high. When she had gotten all the way back down, I started again, harder, building her up once more, even faster than before, to the very tipping end of a massive, G-spot orgasm. Again, I stopped at the crucial moment, slowly moving my fingers as she came
back to Earth, enough to feel good, but not enough to make her come.

  “Please, master,” she begged, tears beginning to form in her eyes.

  That was what I wanted to hear. Using my other hand to press down on her pelvis to increase the pressure even more, I worked her pussy hard, making her feel every movement, hitting all the right spots each time. Within minutes, she was coming all over the place. Were it not for the ropes, I was sure she would have been thrashing about. Even with them, it was quite clear the level of ecstasy to which I had brought her.

  Slamming back down on the bed, panting hard, Emma looked at me imploringly. Getting the wipes I had stowed in the drawer, I cleaned her up nice, kissing her all over, from face to feet, when I was finished. It appeared as though my sweet Emma I liked having her toes sucked. I made a mental note.

  My cock was still quite hard at that point. Watching her cum like that making me more excited than anything. I loved watching her orgasm, or get close and then not. It was a beautiful agony for both of us.

  When she had settled down, I joined her in the rose heart, kneeling between her spread legs. Holding her pussy open with my hands, I leaned down, and gave my pet a long, loving lick along her sweet pussy lips.

  A moan rose up out of her, long and heartfelt, settling down into a series of gasps and moans as I kept licking, using every formation I knew to get her to three orgasms in a row. They were a bit more subtle then what I had done with my fingers, though Emma didn’t seem to mind one bit. Licking her until she was squeaky clean, it was time for the big show.

  Kissing my way song her body, blazing a trail from her pussy to her mouth, I gently mounted Emma, the head of my cock teasing her wet and ready pussy. Taking my cock by the base, I slid in the head, relishing the view as Emma closed her eyes and rose along with me.

  Working with just the head for a while, I gradually introduced the rest until I was all the way in, my balls pressing gently against Emma’s beautiful, shapely ass. If I thought she could handle it, I would have tried putting it in her ass, but there was a bit too much of a chance of shocking, or worse, harming her, neither of which I wanted to do.

 

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