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

by Jamie Knight

  When she was ready, I pulled back to about three-quarters depth and pounded back in, Emma gasping and rising as I did. I did it a few more times, Emma moving right along with me, taking it like a champ.

  After a few more minutes of hard fucking, I eased back a bit, getting to about half depth and starting in again, thrusting at a more regular rhythm.

  “Moan, pet,” I said, giving permission for what I knew she wanted to do anyway, “Let me hear you.”

  Emma let loose with loud and heartfelt moans as I fucked her, working her clit with my massive cock.

  She came first, shuddering hard enough that I could feel every tremble against me. I didn’t want to risk coming inside her again, so I carefully pulled out and fed her my cock.

  She sucked enthusiastically, taking in every morsel of my massive load, smiling around my cock as she did so. She continued to passionately suck my hard cock long after I was finished, gently nursing a second load up from my balls and into her sweet little mouth, licking me clean when she was done like a good girl.

  I caressed her face and kissed her gently. The moment was somewhat broken by a brief, brisk knock on the door, which was the room-service head letting me know they were done. I had asked to be notified so we wouldn’t be accidentally walking out to the other room naked while they were still setting up. As much as I loved screwball comedies, I stopped short of wanting to live in one.

  “Dinner?” Emma asked, ever astute.

  “Indeed.”

  Releasing her from her bounds I carried her to the bathroom, her arms not quite to full working order, which I knew could happen, particularly with newbies.

  Sitting her on the toilet, I drew back the heavy curtain on the exquisite marble-tiled shower, done in purest dove white, making it look like a shower in Heaven. Getting the water just right, I lifted my darling pet into the shower, following soon after.

  When we were both nice and drenched by the flowing water, I started on her braid, slowly unraveling it, twist by exquisite twist.

  “How long does this take to do?” I asked out of curiosity.

  “Depends. My record is an hour, but it usually takes one and a half to two, sir.”

  “Makes sense,” I said, her beautiful, raven hair cascading down to the small of her back.

  Getting everything out and loose, I took a handful of the salon-quality shampoo they happened to have in the bathroom and started running it through her hair, getting up a nice lather and giving her a scalp massage in the process. She put her head back into my hands and moaned softly as I rubbed, clearly liking what I was doing.

  It might seem strange, but some of the most intimate activities are the ones few would consider. It takes almost more trust for most people to let someone touch their face or neck than some of the more traditional erogenous zones.

  While not explicitly sexual, they are still extremely sensitive, and, in the case of the neck, particularly vulnerable. That was part of the reason I never did breath play; I just wasn’t confident enough in my skills in that particular area. I also approached hair-pulling with extreme cation.

  Smoothing her wet hair back, so that it was restrained behind her shoulders while still being loose and free, I switched over to her body. I wasn’t sure if she was allergic to any soap additives, so I took the purer of the two options from the soap shelf and began the bathing process.

  Starting with the back of her neck, gently gathering and lifting her hair so I could reach, I scrubbed her down, from face to feet, then feet to shoulders, flinging the wet mass of her hair over her shoulder like a strange sort of sash to make room. Emma braced herself against the wall, both palms flat against the cool, wet marble, humming with pleasure at what I was doing to her. It wasn’t over yet.

  Forgoing the bar of soap, I reached around her hip and down, over her pelvis, lightly touching her pussy. She lifted slightly at my touch, a gasp escaping her throat. I tenderly cupped her right tit with my free hand, leaning in to kiss her neck as I stroked her sweet little pussy. When I could tell she was getting close, I turned her around, placing her back against the wall so I could watch her cum, proud to be able to give her such pleasure.

  When she finished, I leaned in and kissed her, Emma returning my affections with all her might. Continuing to tongue down her chin and over her creamy neck, I worked my way ever downwards before, finally, burying my face into her pussy.

  My darling pet let out a loud moan and put both hands on the back of my head as encouragement while I licked her delicate lips, using every technique I knew, introducing one finger and then two to work her pussy as I ran hard spirals on her clit with my tongue.

  I caught her before she could collapse, her knees turning to jelly as a massive orgasm ripped through her. Scooping her up and moving carefully, I stepped out of the shower, depositing my love safely on the toilet. She must have rallied her strength in the meantime, because when I turned back after turning off the shower, she pounced on my still-hard cock, taking it all the way into her mouth.

  After deep-throating for a few moments, she pulled back and started sucking and stroking with all her might. She had gotten really good since the first few times we were together, making me cum in mere minutes with the sheer force of her newly acquired talents, my load flooding her loving mouth. My good little pet swallowed it all down before licking the head squeaky clean.

  It took a while to dry off, particularly in terms of Emma’s hair, but we managed, and before we knew it, we were back in the adjoining bedroom, the strength having miraculously returned to her.

  “Sit,” I ordered.

  “Yes, master,” she said, dropping onto the bed.

  While my good girl waited, I went through her clothes, assembling an outfit I thought to be appropriate.

  “Put them on,” I said, laying the last item on the bed beside her.

  “Yes, master!”

  Quick as you please, Emma got dressed in the outfit. It took everything I had to not push her down on the bed and ravage her. I refrained, however. After all, the food would get cold.

  “How do I look?” Emma asked, modelling her new ensemble.

  “Absolutely fuckable,” I said.

  Taking her by the hand, I took her out into the main room, which was indeed free of room service staff. Pulling out a chair, I sat her down.

  “Back straight,” I ordered.

  She sat up, prim and proper, in the high-backed chair. She was looking very regal indeed, the outfit I had chosen for her assisting to no end.

  Running my hands gently down her arms, I placed both her hands palm down on the table.

  “Don’t move,” I whispered into her ear.

  “Yes, master,” she whispered, in what I had come to think of as her submissive voice.

  Leaving her there, I got dressed in one of my suits, shined shoes and all, and took the seat opposite her. I had actually finished with the dictation before I’d asked her to go and get the coffee, the case documents safely back in their folders in my briefcase, along with my laptop.

  Room service had put a lovely linen tablecloth over the already beautiful table. It was white, of course, which seemed pretty counterintuitive to me, but it stuck to the theme and was quite nice in its own right.

  “What’s on you mind?” I asked, taking the bottle of ice wine from the silver bucket.

  “How did you know?”

  “I can read people. How do you think I’ve won all my cases?”

  “Deep researching and supreme oratory skills?” Emma asked.

  “Well, yes, that too, of course. It’s also being able to read people, particularly in judge trials. Those are best because there are fewer variables. Juries can be harder; too many individual egos. It’s hard to go wrong with judges. I’ve only gotten it wrong once, though even then I still won on the strength of my research and oratory skills.”

  The cork finally came loose, and I filled each of our glasses to the halfway mark, or at least thereabouts. Best not to over do it.

&nbs
p; “So, out with it. I can see you thinking from over here, and I will not have someone I love in distress if there’s anything I can do about it. Even if there isn’t anything I can do about it, I’ll still give it a try. I’m a bit of a romantic that way.”

  “Love?”

  “Sorry?” I asked, taking a sip of ice wine.

  “You love me?”

  “Of course I do. Were the giant rose petal hearts not a hint?”

  “Well, yeah, I guess. I was kind of distracted at the time, what with your massive, beautiful cock and all, but now that you mention it, I suppose that could be considered an ovation.”

  “Considered nothing. It was the most romantic thing I have ever done!”

  “Because you love me,” Emma said, by way of clarification.

  “Yes,” I said. “I love you, more than I have loved anyone.”

  “Wow.”

  “And yet, you still look concerned.”

  “You’ve actually hit the root of it,” Emma said.

  “How so?”

  “It’s just so weird, how fast things went. I mean, I love you too. Have for months, if I’m honest. I was sure you would never notice me. Anyway, now we are together -”

  “And how!”

  “- I just worry.”

  “Worry about what, my sweet pet?”

  “About you, about work. I don’t mind if I lose my job. I can get another one. Besides, Faust & Moore are kind of notorious for their purges, particularly of lower positions. I figured I wasn’t long for the firm to start with. But, you’re on your way to partner and I would hate to jeopardize that.”

  “I assure you, my darling, I am perfectly safe. They are going to make me a partner because of how effective I am and how much money I make for them. Do you know how much money I brought in for the firm last year alone?”

  “No.”

  “I don’t either. Not exactly. It is so hard to keep track. I just know it is a very large number with eight zeros in it. The firm gets forty percent of everything I make, not to mention the clout my high-profile cases bring them. There is no way they are going to risk that because I didn’t follow the rules to the letter.”

  “But, the handbook says that there is a zero-tolerance policy for, y’know, dipping the old pen in the company ink.”

  “What a charming euphemism!” I said, loving it when Emma got all folksy.

  “Thanks.”

  “There is indeed a rule, a very strict rule, against office dalliances. However, there is always an exception to every rule, and no inherent reason for things to be as they are at any point in time. I think you will find the old goats to be quite tolerant indeed, when there are literally millions of dollars and the reputation of the firm on the line.”

  Chapter Nine - Emma

  The defendants settled. The lockdown went on a good deal longer than anyone expected, and the trial was at risk of being rescheduled. Damien, genius that he was, wasn’t going to let that happen.

  Breaking the rules, not for the first time in his life, he emailed a copy of his argument to the opposing council. There were three of them, as it turned out, all from Faust & Moore’s archrivals Swaggart & Falwell. They folded faster than Superman on laundry day. Admitting to all wrongdoing, the defendants agreed to pay damages and vowed up and down to cease all production based on licenced material, obliterating more than half of their upcoming projects and costing an estimated $50 million in losses.

  We celebrated in some style, Damien making another of his beautiful meals before taking me into the bedroom and fucking me until the sun rose. I’m not quite sure exactly how many orgasms, including multiples, I had in that twelve-hour period, which included about three hours of sleep; I lost count somewhere around 150.

  The partners were so happy with Damien’s performance, despite missing out on the publicity the trial would have surely brought (avoiding a public flogging was one of the main reasons the defendants had caved in so readily), that they wanted him to get started on another case right away. The lockdown had already been going on for a month, but it was expected to end soon, and the trial wasn’t supposed to be for another six months.

  “What do you think, pet?” he asked, looking over at me.

  I gave a thumbs up, my mouth somewhat occupied by the ball gag. My enthusiasm was partly because, if we timed it right, there wouldn’t be time to get another case before the end of the lockdown, giving us some downtime while we still staying together in the hotel, before real life could come back in full force.

  The new case was probably going to be even quicker than the last one. At least, that was what Damien said. Even I could see that the evidence was overwhelming, to the point that I was surprised it had even come to trial.

  “The other side is a bit of a crusader,” Damien said.

  “Aren’t you?” I asked.

  “I’m more of a philosopher. I help bolster what I think is right, though I know when to quit and when to pick my battles. Harris is like a honey badger, attacking anything that comes across his path.”

  “Has he ever won a case?”

  “Oh, no, not one. He also graduated at the bottom of his class at Harvard.”

  “He went to Harvard?”

  “Family connections, nothing to do with his ability. That’s one of the disadvantages of always getting what you want. It’s easy to come to expect it to be the order of things when it absolutely is not.”

  “Can’t you get everything you want?” I asked.

  “Yes, but I choose not to.”

  “Why?” I asked, completely confused.

  “Where’s the fun in that?”

  Fun was something my sweet master knew a lot about. He was also very good at surprises.

  It wasn’t the first time he had tied me up, though it was the first time I had woken up in that state. My sweet master must have been very gentle indeed while tying me up, though I had to say, he still did a very good job. I couldn’t move at all, and I had already tried. The silk ropes were holding strong. I also couldn’t see.

  “No use struggling,” said Damien’s voice. “The ropes are firm. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

  “Yes, master,” I said, settling down.

  “You are wearing a sleep mask I have altered into a blindfold. That is why you can’t see,” he said.

  “Oh,” I said, not expecting that.

  “You will be released, but only after you answer some questions.”

  “Yes, master,” I said.

  “I want to tell me what you really think.”

  “About what?” I asked, genuinely confused.

  “About this. About me. About what have we been doing the last month or so.”

  “I love it, master,” I said.

  “Do you love me?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I whispered, meaning it in my very soul.

  “What was that?”

  “Yes, master,” I said, loud and clear.

  “Much better. What do you love about what we do? I want specifics.”

  “I-I love how you touch me. It makes me feel really good, better than I have ever felt before. I like how you make me work for your cum, and how you treat me rough before you treat me soft.”

  “You like the pain?”

  “There isn’t really much pain, master. Not real bad pain, anyway. Even the rough stuff, the tying me up and fucking me hard, Even the ball gag. It doesn’t hurt. It can be really intense, but it doesn’t hurt. The spanking hurts a bit, but then it feels really good after. It’s all kinda unpredictable, which makes it really exciting. Oh, and the creativity!”

  “Such as?” he asked.

  “Well, the flowers, for one. The rose petals, I mean. Making the big pink and white hearts in my bedroom. The blindfolds, so I can’t see but can still feel. The feeling becomes a bit stronger, if I’m honest. The dress-up was pretty fun. Oh, and the butterscotch!”

  “That was fun,” he agreed, breaking character just a bit.

  “There is no other perso
n I will give my body to than you. I am yours, my master. Completely and forever.”

  “What do you like me to do, specifically?” he asked.

  My mind reeled, trying to think of the right thing to say. In the end, I decided to just tell the truth and start at the beginning.

  “I like it when you suck my toes.”

  I gasped as much with pleasure as surprise as, suddenly, my master’s beautiful mouth was gently sucking my big toe, his lovely hands stroking my legs as he did so. Giving my other toe some tender love, he continued stroking my legs, waiting for me to tell him what else I liked. It didn’t take too long for me to work this out.

  “I-I like it when you cup and stroke my pussy,” I said.

  Caressing his hands up my legs, they came to a rest, meeting on my belly. His right hand then slipped down between my thighs, lightly cupping my wet, aching pussy. I moaned with pleasure and relief. Even his voice made me so horny.

  Just silently touching me for a long while, my sweet master began to stroke me in slow, tight circles, making sure to hit my clit with every pass, sending another jolt of pleasure blasting through me. I desperately wanted to moan, but master hadn’t given me permission. I got away with it in the shower, but we weren’t really doing it then. When he tied me up, it was serious, and his word was law. I did not even move without his permission.

  I got even wetter just at the thought of Damien in complete control of my body, doing whatever he wanted with me, whenever he wanted. I trusted him entirely. I trusted him with my life. I knew, as well as I knew anything, that he would never harm me.

  “I-I also like when I’m not sure if you’re going to let me cum,” I gasped, edging on a moan but not crossing the invisible, forbidden line.

  Taking advantage of my new wetness, my master angled his hand and slipped three fingers deep inside me, going up to the third knuckle. After giving me time to get used to being filled up, he started to gently move inside me, working my pussy towards a massive orgasm, taking his time to get there, building up the anticipation, not only of the burst of pleasure exploding behind my eyes every time he made me cum, but of seeing if he would actually allow me to cum. Just when I got to the point that I wanted to scream, he came to a halt, cupping my pussy as I came down.