Campaign of Desire (CSA Case Files 4) (23 page)

“Lach, Sir, please.”

“Tsk-tsk. Ask me to fill your pussy.” Lach licked his lips, enjoying the sweet taste of her cream. He could literally see her body coming down slightly as she tried to formulate her words. “Ask me to use my finger to breach your entrance.”

“
Sir
, p-please finger my pussy.” Phoebe’s eyes were tightly closed and her head was turned to the side. There would also come a time when he would make her look directly into his eyes when she gained her release. There was nothing more beautiful than to witness his woman experience her pleasure. “Sir, please.”

Lach stood and released her mounds, noticing that her skin stayed parted for him to view what he was about to do. Taking his right middle finger, he took his time in gathering her juices, wetting his digit, and spreading it around her opening while carefully avoiding her clit. Phoebe’s hips rose slightly, attempting to force his attention back to her nub. Her legs remained apart. Coating his thumb as well, he placed it over her clitoris while slowly entering her warm sheath with his finger. Her walls immediately tried to strangle his extremity, but he refused to be rushed.

“Your pussy is trying to keep me inside of you, Phoebe. Your heat is practically scorching my flesh.” Lach slowly pulled out until he’d reached his last knuckle, all the while making circular movements with his thumb and keeping friction on her clit. The pad of his middle finger maintained firm contact with the roof of her cave, rubbing the bundle of nerves he knew to be there with each elongated stroke. It wasn’t long before he once again saw the tremors on her inner thighs begin to quiver. He stopped all effort. “Do your breasts feel neglected?”

It took a moment for Lach’s words to register, but it must have been obvious to her when he didn’t begin his administrations once more that he wanted to be answered. She inhaled and then exhaled, her chest rising and falling, eventually licking her lips and answering him honestly.

“Yes, Sir, my breasts feel neglected.” Phoebe’s breath hitched on her last word.

“Do you like your breasts played with? Do you like your nipples to be touched, pulled, bitten?”

“Yes, Sir, e-especially when I’m—”

“Aroused?”

“When I’m ready to come, Sir.” Phoebe finally opened her eyes and lowered her chin enough so that he could see those beautiful sapphires shining with need. “I’m ready to come, Sir. Please.”

“I know that, Phoebe. I am watching you very closely.” Lach could feel that her sheath had relaxed its hold on his finger, so once again he started to slowly move his digit in and out, wanting to take her higher. Her cream was now dripping off of his knuckle. He pressed harder on her clit with his thumb, making sure every nerve within her nub responded. She cried out and one of her heels almost slipped. His point seemed to be made. “Who will now control your releases? Will it be you? Me? Will you hand them over to your Dominant, knowing I have your best interests at heart?”

“Sir, please…just a little more.”

“A little more?” Lach asked, knowing full well she was on the verge of coming. He watched her body and face intently as he continued to pleasure her. Phoebe’s clit was now a soft red, matching the inner walls of her pussy. It was engorged, wet, and now throbbed under his touch. Her breathing was coming out in gasps and right before he knew she would go over the edge, he stopped. “What’s my title?”

“Sir!” Phoebe’s body became still, waiting for him to continue. He didn’t. “Sir! Your title is Sir.”

“Very good, Phoebe.” Lach slowly pulled his finger out of her pussy, all the while making sure his thumb didn’t caress her clit even once more by mistake. “Let me help you up and then you can reply to my question that you never answered.”

“You…you can’t—” Phoebe’s eyes sparked with anger and she ignored his outstretched hands, pushing them aside as she came to a sitting position. “Are you fucking serious?”

“Such language. We’ll deal with that later.” Lach stepped in between her thighs, taking advantage of the frustration consuming her. He cupped Phoebe’s flushed face and made sure he had her full attention. “Let me rephrase my earlier question. Do you want to hand over your releases to me…giving me full control of your body?”

Phoebe’s eyes clearly expressed the warring emotions that were going on inside of her. Lach was pleased that he’d gotten her arousal to a place where she responded only to his touch and commands. That in itself was the only pleasure he needed to see himself through the day.

“W-why would you stop?” Phoebe asked, her breathing somewhat under control. “We still have time. We could—”

“My ending the scene this way had nothing to do with time constraints.” Lach used his finger and rubbed her cream on her lower lip until it glistened like her pussy. “It was to show you that this is not a game to me. This
is
me.”

Lach couldn’t resist leaning down and licking Phoebe’s juices off of her mouth. Instead of shying away at her own taste, she surprised him by mingling their tongues and enjoying her flavor together. He came very close to changing his mind and carrying out a full scene in her bedroom, both of them being given the relief they needed.

“I like this you. What if I told you that I got your message loud and clear? Would that convince you to continue?”

Lach choked out a laugh even though his cock strained painfully against his denim. Regardless of her frown, he slid his hands underneath her arms and lifted her off of the counter. Her eyebrows were in a V and it was apparent she was about to argue. He admired her spirit, but it wouldn’t get him to change his mind. He’d implemented the scene for a reason, and by tonight he guaranteed he’d hear his title without any prompting. That was a reward he was looking forward to.

“If you go the rest of the day without wearing your panties and meet me here precisely at eight o’clock, then we’ll see about giving you the release you crave.” Lach leaned down for one more kiss, although her lips were in a thin line expressing her considerable displeasure. She certainly wasn’t going to like it when he sent her into the bathroom to clean up while he disinfected the counter. There was one more thing that she should be aware of. “By the way, if I find out that you’ve taken matters into your own hands, you’ll experience firsthand the punishment that I like to serve.”

Chapter Eighteen

P
hoebe finally turned off her computer, her thighs trembling from the anticipation of what Lach had planned for her this evening. It had taken most of the afternoon for her anger to wear off and a couple of more hours to finally understand Lach’s position on this part of his life. It wasn’t like he hadn’t said it numerous times, but the lifestyle was ingrained in him. Instead of finishing up calls in regards to donations to her father’s campaign, she’d trolled the Internet researching the BDSM lifestyle as much as she could while keeping prying eyes at bay.

While waiting for sites to load, Phoebe spent time wondering what had made her attracted to Lach in the first place. Granted, he’d saved her over a year ago now during the hostage situation in Africa. Could it be she saw him as her savior? Was she just grateful? She’d immediately rejected that thought, knowing that wasn’t it. He was a gentleman through and through, from how he treated women to the proper etiquette it took to date a lady. He was kind and understanding, which she’d seen firsthand with Kimmie. He was loyal to a fault, evident in his word of honor given to Gavin Crest. Men like him were few and far between and when it came right down to it, he made her feel something that no one else had—an untapped fountain of desire.

“You’re leaving early. Is everything all right?”

Phoebe looked up from her black screen to see Stewart standing in front of her desk. He’d relieved another volunteer around lunch time and she knew that he only had another hour of his time before he left for the evening as well. Paul had made sure that the phones were manned until at least eleven at night, knowing the west coast didn’t end their day until later. There were still at least ten other volunteers still making cold calls along with Troy. Paul was already training the up and coming eager young man for a run in politics. It had always amazed her at how young the budding politicians started out.

“Everything’s fine, Stewart,” Phoebe answered, standing up and trying not to let it be known that cool air drifted up her dress, making her instantly clench her thighs and think of Lach. “Um, I just have some personal things to attend to. Troy is manning the ship anyway, so I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Have you spoken with Hannah?” Stewart remained in front of the table while Phoebe slid her arms inside her coat, brushing off some black threads that must have come off of her dress. His question had caught her attention though and she waited for him to continue while pulling on her gloves. “I haven’t heard from her in a while. We used to text each other every day, but now she won’t respond. Hannah also won’t answer my calls.”

“My father reached out to Hannah and he made sure she understood why she couldn’t volunteer on the campaign after everything that happened.” Phoebe had seen the hurt that the young girl had felt upon finding out that her father had been arrested. Life had dealt her a handful of bad cards, but what she needed to do was start over with a solid foundation rather than building a house of them. “I also spoke with her shortly after that, telling her the best thing she could do was concentrate on her studies. Another internship will open up and someone will give her a chance at a new beginning. You and I both know she was sharing her excitement with Victor Ward regarding my father’s run for presidency, but she also commented on his agenda outside of these walls. I know it’s done all of the time, but the outcome dictated the consequences.”

“I know you’re right,” Stewart replied, placing his hands inside his pockets and looking defeated, “but she’s a sweet girl that doesn’t deserve to be punished for something her father did.”

“If you’re so worried about Hannah, why don’t you go and see if you can talk to her?” Phoebe glanced over Stewart’s shoulder to see Troy in a deep conversation on the phone, probably talking with Paul. “Tell Troy I said it was fine for you to leave an hour early.”

“Thank you so much, Ms. Dunaway!”

Stewart didn’t waste a second as he turned on his heel and marched over to a table on the far side of the room. He grabbed his jacket and headed over to where Troy was still on the phone. Stewart’s impatience was evident, but Troy didn’t seem to care one way or the other. Paul was training him well.

“Are you ready, Ms. Dunaway?”

“Yes.” Phoebe had decided it was easier to ride with the agent on duty at the time than it was to take her own car. A couple of inches of snow had fallen throughout the day, and although that was nothing in the state of Minnesota, she hadn’t felt like maneuvering her car through the slick roads. Besides, her attention had been drawn to these new sensations her body was experiencing and with her luck, she’d wreck her BMW short of her goal. “I’m ready.”

Those two words meant a whole lot more to Phoebe than they did the agent who’d taken over a couple of hours ago. It wasn’t Jim this time. This agent’s name was Thornton and although it seemed odd, suited him just fine. His hair was styled and brushed back from his forehead, giving him an aristocratic look. Technically, he blended in well with the political arena of politicians. It didn’t take them long to drive home, though her body sure as hell didn’t feel that way.

“Are you all right, ma’am?” Thornton asked as he helped her from the vehicle. Phoebe’s loud inhalation at the feel of the chilled air had caught his attention and she was mortified by the reason.

“Yes, I’m fine. Thank you.”

Phoebe had to have a talk with Lach about this no panty thing. She wasn’t sure what it was to prove, but she’d found it hard to concentrate on anything else but her body.
Ah
. And there it was. He wanted her distracted and thinking of him. Well, it damn well worked. Should she tell him what really had her preoccupied was the fact that he’d pocketed her panties into the front of his jeans? Did he still have them? Had he touched them throughout the day thinking of her?