His Pawn (The Manhattan Tales Book 1) (12 page)

“Do you want release, Ms. Pryor?”  He whispered into my ear in between nibbles on my neck.

“I want you, Sir,” I breathed pathetically.

His hands firmly ran up and down the curves of my body, feeling my round hips, my ass, and my breasts.  He pressed his firm body against mine, and I felt his erection growing thick and hard against my ass again.  I was aching with need at this point.

“Tell me what you want,”  his voice was lustful in my ear.

“I want you.  Inside me.  However you want…”  I pleaded.

“Good enough,” he answered, and grabbed my wrists as he bound them behind my back in one grasp.  His other hand was firmly positioned on my hip as he rammed into me without any further warning.  I felt the entire length of him drive into me, to the hilt.

I let out a deep cry, gasping and moaning as he took me without mercy from behind.  I felt my slick walls tighten around his cock as I gushed around him.  Still, he continued to pound me through my orgasm. 

The slippery sounds of skin against skin echoed in my ears as he continued his furious tempo. His grip on my wrists was tight, but I hardly cared.  The electric shocks of pleasure racing up and down my core were more than I could handle.

“Who do you belong to?”  He roared, and I felt a sudden sting on my ass as his free hand rang down on my bare skin.  I cried out again, moaning as he continued to drive deep.

“Yours, all  yours, Sir,” I responded instantly.

“Damn straight you are mine.  This body belongs to me,” he never relented as he fucked me hard.  “You’ll remember every thrust, every damn stroke of my cock.  Every time you sit, stand, or lie down, you’ll remember I was here.”

His filthy words brought about another wave of lust pooling between my thighs, and my legs were completely weak with need.  I moaned his name loudly, begging him not to stop, and he didn’t… not until we were both too exhausted to continue.

Without a word, he kissed the nape of my neck and then carried me to my bedroom.  He tucked me under the covers.  It was foolish of me to hope he’d stay in the bed with me, but then he switched off the bedside light and closed the door as he left my room. 

Mason was correct about one thing for certain:  I was sore, very sore, even lying down, and the sensations and images of that evening replayed in my mind over and over again until I finally drifted off into a deep sleep. 

10. Mason Woodward

Jillian began her last semester that following Monday.  It was the start of a new kind of schedule. I quite liked knowing I could have her at my beck and call any time of the day while she was on holiday from classes.  Still, I had to remind myself that I was a means to an end just as she was a means to an end for me. These days, her course load seemed intensive and I was not about to disrupt her studies. I had her give me a printed copy of her course schedule, in case she could afford a mid-day visit to my office in between classes.

I did have her visit on occasion, with the guise of bringing me coffee and she never disappointed.  It soon became clear to me that I would not tire of her after three months.  There was an electrical chemistry between us that even I could not deny at this point.  The components of my plan had already unfolded the minute she spread herself on the office sofa for me.

My pen tapped idly between my fingers as I sat in my office chair, thinking.  Of course, I stuck to the stipulations of our contract. I pulled my end of the deal, and she followed my specific instructions at the end of the day, but I’d become careful about placing the needed distance between us. 

The pull between us, although strong, had to be tapered.  She was still willing and able to please me, but the light that was once in her eyes had faded as the weeks went by. 
Good
, I attempted to convince myself but there was no denying that I missed the way her face illuminated when she saw me.

“Who’s the woman?”

A familiar female voice broke me from my thoughts, snapping me back to the present.  I looked up from my desk and saw my cousin, Piper, sit across from me in the highback leather chair.  She held up the current gossip section of the New York Times, which displayed a picture of me walking with Jill on the campus of NYU. 

With a scowl, I rounded the desk and ripped the paper from her polished fingers.  Piper didn’t seem upset.  Despite her question, she already knew about Jillian. My cousin never displayed much emotion about anything.  She’d made a very successful career as a therapist, and it was no wonder.  Her clients could freely spill their woes without feeling an inkling of judgement.  Her attire was often as bland in appearance as her facial expressions.  If we hadn’t grown up together, and if she didn’t already know all of my family’s secrets, I wouldn’t have adopted her as my own therapist.  She was probably the only person in the world I could trust. 
Aside from Jill.
  I immediately pushed that thought far from my mind.

Piper took the paper from my hand in one swift swoop and read the column aloud.  “British-American Playboy finds new girlfriend.”  She stops reading and looks up at me. 

“Sources say that the son of J.A. Woodward and Company has found a new flavor of the week on the campus of NYU.  Although the woman remains unidentified, it is evident from this picture that Mason Woodward looked quite cozy with-” I interrupted this hideous gossip read and snatched the article from her hands again.  I crumpled the paper and shoved it into my top desk drawer.

“I don’t do relationships.  Everyone knows that,” I barked.

“No, you do revenge fucking instead,” Piper responds plainly, but with a raised brow.  “Tell me, how do you plan to go about ruining her and sending that news on to her brother?”

Weeks ago, my plan was flawless.  I knew exactly how I was going to seek retribution.

“What sense of satisfaction will this ultimately bring you?” She asked that last question.

“I don’t remember booking a therapy session this week,” I snapped instead.

“You need to let this go, Mason.  This is about more than just your best friend screwing your fiance.  You know it.”

I felt the tick in my jaw knot, my blood boiling.  Yes, I confided in Piper, but we always did it on
my
terms.  She had much more to say, seeming desperate to save this poor girl from me.

At that moment, my office phone buzzed.  Angrily I picked up the phone.

“Yes?” I snapped into the receiver.  I could practically see Elizabeth jump in her chair.

“Mr. Woodward, your three-o’clock appointment is here.”

“Brilliant.  Send them in,” I slammed the receiver down on the hook.  Normally, I loathed these late-afternoon meetings but at this moment, I welcomed them.

“Think about what you’re doing,” Piper said blandly as she scooped her designer bag from the chair and exited my office.

I knew I intimidated the investors that I had arranged to meet with.  Piper had put me in a mood just before the appointment.  I barely listened to a damn thing either of them said to me, but they still agreed to consider my terms.  By the time they left, it was four o’clock.  I pulled out my mobile and sent a text to Jillian.

I’ll be home at 7 pm.  Be ready and waiting in the dining room.

I enjoyed taking her in most rooms of my penthouse.  I felt myself harden, picturing her splayed for me on the dining room table, her velvety thighs wrapped around me as  my cock plunged deeply into her wet folds.  Someday, when she’s ready, I’ll take her to my apartment on West 87th Street-

A text chimes in from Jill and my knuckles clamp upon reading it.

Jill: I’m on campus right now, Sir.  What if I get busy?

She’s been challenging lately, as though she
wants
to be punished.  I thumb an answer back quickly.

Don’t test me, Ms. Pryor.  You won’t like it.

My phone chimes again.

Jill: … Or will I?

That’s it.
My fingers twitch, and my cock aches against the tent of my pants.  I don’t even answer her this time. I’m going to campus to fetch her myself.  Something deep inside tells me that this is what she’s asking for.  I’ll show her what it means to challenge me.

“Mr. Woodward,” Elizabeth calls through the intercom on my office desk.  “I am reminding you about your dinner meeting tonight with Tanaka and Yoshida, at five pm, at Carlito’s.”

Fuck!
  I throw down my briefcase.  I’d forgotten all about that follow-up meeting with my father’s Japanese investors.  They were the ones to request an early dinner meeting before they took their flight back to Tokyo this evening.  With Manhattan traffic, I have just enough time to gather the necessary documents and “fix” myself before meeting them in the swanky Italian restaurant on Madison Avenue.  With reluctance, I sent another text to Jill informing her that I’d be home late due to a dinner meeting.

Business was as pleasurable as it could be with two tight-lipped investors.  I managed to keep my dark and dirty thoughts of Jill at bay long enough to convince the men to agree to my father’s requests.  I still couldn’t help but think that I should bring Jillian to this place sometime.  She loves good Italian food… I grit my teeth and shake the thought from my mind. 

By the time the investors leave for the airport, it is eight pm.  I ordered two shots of whiskey and downed them each immediately, before I signed off on the check.  Eight-thirty.

I finally punched in the elevator code to my penthouse, and arrived home to complete silence, but the strong smell of buttered popcorn hung in the air.  I knew that was
not
from Mrs. O’Malley.

I set my briefcase down on the polished glass table in the foyer.  I found Jill sitting on the oversized leather sofa in the entertainment room.  Her wild waves spilled over the edge of the leather and I could see that she was wearing the bulky oversized NYU sweatshirt again. 

I watched her scroll through a selection of movie titles on the screen.  I admired her from the doorway, enjoying her beauty.  She was in her natural state, completely uninhibited.  Finally, I cleared my throat when it seemed that she was endlessly searching for a movie title.

  “You can order anything you like On-Demand,” I spoke, making her jump slightly.

She looked up at me, and smiled slightly.  “That’s so expensive though.  Netflix is ten bucks a month for endless streaming.”

I couldn’t stifle a grin. 
Even in such lavish surroundings, she’s still the bargain hunter.
  I thought about ordering her up, and undressing her, but for some reason, I enjoyed seeing her in this relaxed state.  She looked like she belonged here.
No.

“What are you going to watch?”  I asked, trying to maintain a calm demeanor.

“I don’t know,” she sighed and then smiled at me as I sat down on the other end of the sofa.  Her legs were stretched out across the leather, but there was still plenty of room.

“I never tried netflix,” I commented.  “Come to think of it, I don’t ever use this TV…”

She looked at me and grinned.  “Well, there’s a first time for everything.”

I watched her scroll through the titles, more fixated on her than the selections on the screen.  I watched her face; the light had returned in her large, dark eyes… the prettiest eyes I’d ever seen, truly.  Her chest heaved up and down lightly beneath that sweatshirt, and then she suddenly sat up and grinned broadly as she selected a title.  I didn’t even know what she chose.  I wasn’t paying attention.  The words of my cousin haunted me at the same time, and I struggled to push them away as I watched Jillian.  I’d all but forgotten the frustrations of the day when I laid eyes on her.

I finally looked at the screen and quirked an eyebrow at her.  “Pretty Woman?”  I knew what she was getting at with this title.

“Sure, why not?”  She asked, trying to remain casual, but she was such a bad actress and I saw the glint in her eyes as she looked up at me.  Then she switched out of the  movie and returned to the main menu. 

“Alright, that was a bad attempt at a joke,” she giggled as she lay back with her head on the armrest of the sofa.

I smirked, but then she began rubbing her bare foot on my arm playfully.  I looked down at her, and saw the teasing smirk on her face.  I wrapped my hand around her ankle and gripped it firmly.  Her face suddenly fell, noting the warning look on my face.

“I warned you not to test me, Ms. Pryor,” I stated calmly.

I watched her breathing hitch as she looked up at me.  Then I snickered and brushed my forefinger down the sole of her foot.  She flinched, giggling.

I arched a brow.  “Oh, ticklish there, are you?”  I brushed two fingers around the sole and she flailed more, hysterical.

“No, Mason. Stop.  Please.”  She tried to yank her foot from my grasp but it was no use.  My cock hardened at the sight of her thrashing body.

“Where else are you sensitive, Ms. Pryor?”  I asked, grabbing her other foot.  She responded in a fit of giggles, writhing, trying to yank her foot away.   I leaned closer, trailing my fingers up her leg while my other hand kept her left ankle bound in my grip.

“What about…. here?”  I asked, slipping my hand beneath her sweat shirt.  I felt the smooth, warm silk of her skin.  My fingers lightly caressed her soft stomach and she gave another burst of giggles.