Kendall
My heart was booming in my ears as Jace led me from the dinner table to his bedroom. I
needed
the interview, but my body ached for
him
.
Every move I’d made since Becky’s Beauty Parlor had been turned into an erotic adventure, with my newly-bare pussy tingling whenever a piece of clothing brushed against it. Now, with my hand in Jace’s, I could feel that same energy where he touched me, humming beneath the surface and adding to my sexual torture.
It was almost like my body was in a heated debate with my mind, and it was winning. It must have been, because one foot kept on landing in front of the other. He led me to the one place that the man who took my virginity was even more likely to fuck me.
The heavily-muscled businessman drew me into his room and inexorably towards his bed, but stopped before I was close enough to give up the one-sided internal battle and throw myself upon it. Instead, he stopped and pulled me close.
I licked my lips, preparing for the kiss I knew was coming, but he proved me wrong again. With his hands on my shoulders, he turned me away from the bed so he was standing behind me, his body pressed against my back. In front of me, I could see the full length mirrors on the doors to his wardrobe.
They were only the latest in a long series of mirrors I’d stood in front of today, but they were the first ones in which I’d ever seen my reflection with Jace’s. The multi-millionaire stood head and shoulders above me. Broad and muscular, his body was visible all around mine, especially those thick tattooed arms with the sleeves rolled up, cocked out at each side because of his hands on my shoulders.
Even for a casual dinner at his own home he was dressed to impress, and now that he was standing so close I caught that scent of him again. I breathed it deep and slow through my nose, and it brought a series of images to the forefront of my mind.
While it was true that I didn’t have a long history with Jace Barlow, every time I had been with him was like a sharp spike in the otherwise dull curve of my life. He stood up for me when nobody else did, he lusted after me when nobody else had, and when I was with him I felt like I was alive. Hanging on to the outside of the space shuttle as it took off… but
alive
.
Perhaps the most striking thing about this reflection was how much I looked like I belonged with him. I wasn’t tall and busty like the women from the pictures in the gossip magazines, but I never saw him hold them close the way he was doing with me.
“Kendall Brookes from Woodville. Look at you now. The way that bitch spoke to you in the restaurant, that fuckwit of a boss of yours. They’ll
never
talk to you like that again, that’s why I did it. Something went wrong somewhere, screwed up the natural pecking order, I’m just making things right. A woman like you doesn’t have to take that kind of shit from them, from
anybody
. The next time you visit home, if they don’t worship you like a queen, I’ll bulldoze the entire town because when you’re
mine
, you’re royalty.”
Jace’s hands slid from my shoulders and down my bare arms, making me quiver with barely-restrained excitement. From my forearms they transferred to my hips, the tips of his fingers almost touching above my hyper-sensitive mound, and he pulled me more firmly against him so I could feel that intoxicating hardness against my back.
I closed my eyes and bit my bottom lip, squirming against him before I’d even thought about doing it. Those big hands of his curled around me even further, until one arm was across my waist and the other hand reached up to cup my breast.
He gave it a firm squeeze and my nipples quickly hardened against the inside of the silky dress. I could feel his hot breath on my neck, and I turned my head instinctively in that direction, seeking his kiss.
His hand left my breast and moved up until he was gripping my neck, his thumb and forefinger cradling my jaw and guiding me to him. I felt his lips against mine and, shortly afterwards, our tongues gently danced to some silent music.
Jace’s lower hand moved down over my dress, across my smooth mound, and I moaned into the kiss before he had made it as far as my pussy. When he did, I had to break off the kiss to hold my breath, as he cupped my sex and then traced one finger along my slit.
It wasn’t
fair
how his mere touch could make me feel so good. Nobody should have
that
much power, and yet he did. A stampede of butterflies were running riot in my stomach and my abdominal muscles flexed, forcing my ass against him even more.
The enigmatic businessman held on tighter, and caressed my pussy through the top-end designer gown and underwear he had paid for. Through barely-open eyes I saw the scene reflected in the mirror and, not for the first time since I’d met Jace Barlow, I couldn’t believe it was me.
There I was, dressed in diamonds and fine clothes, with, as far as I was concerned, the hottest man in the world, and he had his hand between my legs. Jace stood to his full height again and pulled away from my pussy. I couldn’t stop a whimper of disappointment from escaping, but I was soon swept away with optimism as he slipped the straps off my shoulders.
The exquisite dress slid off me like black water and pooled at my feet, leaving me with nothing but a matching G-string, two diamond and platinum earrings, and a comparatively modest white gold and diamond necklace that I had chosen myself.
Jace stalked around until he was standing right in front of me, his eyes drinking in every square inch of my body. My heart was pounding with excitement, and no small amount of fear, remembering those extremes of physical sensation he’d made me feel at
Luc Monette’s
.
“You were
born
to be fucked hard,” he said, tracing a finger on my smooth mound through my panties.
He moved slowly upwards, and I reached out to his bulging bicep, feeling the power under his sleeve as I leaned into his caress. Spreading out his fingers, not quite touching either of my breasts, he pushed me backwards.
It was only a few steps before the back of my knees hit the bed and I sat down unceremoniously. From my newly reduced height, I had a front-row seat to see that prominent outline in his pants, and I was mesmerized for a moment, before my eyes were torn upwards to watch him unbutton his shirt.
When he revealed that sculpted and inked torso for only the second time in my life, I almost cried out with physical pain, I ached for him so bad. The sex-crazed and primal part of my mind that had truly awoken on the night he fucked me for the first time was less restrained, making sounds that would roughly be translated as “
wantwantwantwant!”
I reached up and ran my finger down his abs like a scarred and tattooed xylophone, and then lower to feel the swell of his manhood against the palm of my hand. My mouth was open, my brows knitted together and I was panting with sheer desperate need.
It didn’t matter that I was reminded anew of the
size
of that majestic cock and how hard he fucked with it, I
needed
him inside me. Jace watched my face with a self-assured smirk and then instead of leaping on top of me like I wanted, stepped to the side.
“Where are you going!?”
Jace bent down and picked up something from the side of the bed. Two somethings. One was a paintbrush and, as he broke the seal and unscrewed the top, I read the label on the other something. It was chocolate-flavored body paint.
“Some forms of art are more OK than others,” he said. “Now… you’ve spent all day doing what
you
want to do, so we’re going to spend all night doing what
I
want to do.”
Kendall
Jace knelt on the floor and set the bottle and brush down next to him. He ran his hands up my thighs, my hips and my sides before squeezing and pinching my nipples as he caressed my small breasts hard enough that I gasped.
“I am going to taste every inch of you, and then I am going to
fuck
your brains out. You need that, don’t you, Kendall?”
I nodded, pushing my chest against him, and my nipples pressed into his palms. Jace pushed back, gentle but unstoppable, and I laid down on the bed with my feet still on the ground.
His hands slid away as my chest moved out of reach, and I felt his fingertips travel across my navel until they reached the waistband of my panties. Looking down, I could see his upper body over the horizon of the bed, broad and defined, with pure hunger in his eyes as he pulled the flimsy black material downwards.
With a push against the floor, I lifted my ass off the bed and a moment later felt the cool air on my pussy. The excitement of the Brazilian and simply being in Jace’s company would have assured me of some quality alone-time later on if I had gone home alone, but the last few minutes had put my pussy on high-alert. I knew that he could see how wet I was for him already.
“Fuck, I can’t wait to feel that tight little pussy wrapped around my cock. You’re going to be
screaming
my name tonight.”
“Yeah… do it…” I heard somebody whisper, using my mouth to say it.
Jace discarded my G-string in the general direction of my evening gown and then held up the paintbrush, now glistening with a thick liquid chocolate. He touched the tip of the brush to my inner thigh and I flinched away instinctively, it tickled so much.
“Stay still,” said Jace.
I did my best, but every stroke of the brush was a maddening tease. My legs quivered with anticipation as he created chocolate designs on one side and then the other, and then moved higher.
The closer he got to my pussy, the more I buried my hands in my hair and thrashed my head from side to side. I needed him, the brush, me,
something
, to touch my little go-button and release the tension he was building up inside me, but he pushed my hands away when I tried to solve my problem myself.
“You cum when I want you to, Kendall, not before,” he said.
The brush came tantalizingly close… and then I felt him move higher, creating little swirls on the smooth canvas that Becky had cleared for him this afternoon. I reached up for a pillow and smothered myself with it, as I screamed my frustration and the quivers from my legs started making my hips gyrate.
When I removed the pillow and looked down with desperation in my eyes, I saw some designs on my stomach that faintly mirrored the patterns on his, and the words “Property of Jace Barlow” written in chocolate ink. Some part of my mind tried to raise an objection to that, but was silenced by the argument that you can’t deny reality. I belonged to Jace Barlow, if he wanted me.
He moved on to the bed and knelt beside me as he created his “more than OK” art on my body. I reached out and felt that wondrously thick cock of his through his pants, stroking it up and down.
I wanted to
see
it, to feel its hot throbbing skin in the palm of my hand, but I didn’t know how to say it. Every ounce of unspoken pleading was written in my eyes, but there was so much I wanted from him, so much he had already promised to give me, that it was probably not enough.
Jace painted the gentle slopes of my breasts, my aching hard nipples, and then surveyed his masterpiece. He licked his lips, and moved back to where he’d started, putting the chocolate body paint back on the ground before lifting one leg into his hands and beginning to destroy what he had just created, in the most incredible way.
The multi-millionaire licked and sucked at me, and I felt that rough stubble contrasting against the softness of his lips and tongue again. He was making me feel like a manifestation of some ancient goddess who came down to earth every now and then to be worshipped in this way.
He still hadn’t
touched
my eager sex, but if he kept doing what he was doing, it was going to take the willpower of a deity for me to stop myself from climaxing. Jace made my legs look as if they’d never been painted and then I felt his hot breath on my sopping wet slit.
I held my breath for a second, and then hit the bed with my fists like a little girl throwing a tantrum when I felt his lips on my navel instead of my pussy. A tear of desperation trickled out of one eye, a tiny rivulet of my natural lubricants trickled out of my excited tunnel and tickled its way downwards to the sheets.
His stamp of ownership was the last design element to be erased from my stomach, before he moved upwards again. I ran my hands through his hair, pushing myself against him, making him kiss and lick me harder.
When I felt his thigh between my legs, I rubbed my pussy against him like a wanton slut, because I was beyond caring. All that mattered was this impossibly sexy man who had exploded into my life and all the pleasure he was giving me. I
needed
to cum.
“Please,
please
, fuck me, Jace! Fuck me
hard!
I need it, now!”
Jace paused only long enough to assure me that my torture would be sustained. “Not until I’m good and ready, you sexy little bitch.”
His shoulder muscles bulged as he held himself above me and licked the undersides of my breasts, before circling my nipples with his tongue and then sucking them into his mouth. I cried out when a little firecracker of pleasure went off between my legs, a tiny preview of things to come.
When Jace had cleaned my breasts to his satisfaction, he moved up to kiss me on the lips, and I kissed him back with utter desperation, our tongues no longer gentle as we fought for territory in each other’s mouths. Not surprisingly, he tasted of chocolate.
He pulled back and I followed his kiss upwards for several inches, until he pushed me flat again while he moved back to square one, between my legs. If he was going to tease me again, I was going to die.
“
Please
,” I panted, and then screamed in relief as he licked the full length of my pussy.
His stubble framed the path of his tongue and I felt it on my sensitive labia as a prickly tingle that drove me wild with excitement. My muscles twitched and I ground myself sporadically against his face as he lapped up my juices like they were sweeter than the body paint.
Jace’s strong hands cupped my ass and pulled my sex against him, keeping me exactly where I needed to be, in spite of my traitor muscles trying to make me buck and gyrate all over the place. My head was thrashing from side to side once more, while pins and needles of bliss started pricking me all over my body, starting at my clit and moving towards my extremities.
I gripped the bedsheets for dear life, terrified of what was building up inside of me, as if an orgasm could be so powerful that it did actual physical damage. I moaned in ecstasy without a spare thought for the volume, hoping it might let off some of the pressure.
When Jace’s expert tongue concentrated on my clit, my breaths started hitching. I breathed in short, sharp, bursts but couldn’t breathe out, until I couldn’t take anymore and I felt like I was going to burst.
A brown haze rolled in from the periphery of my vision as my orgasm took hold, and the only thing drowning out my screams of bliss as I let out all that air was the booming of my heartbeat in my ears. Pleasure beyond belief made my body hum and it was almost like my soul was blasted out of my body by the intensity of it all.
I couldn’t see anyway, so I squeezed my eyes shut and was assaulted on all sides by the ecstasy that Jace was inflicting on me. It was too much, too much,
too much
! I was just one woman and I couldn’t take it!
When my orgasm peaked and began to fade, color started to creep back into the world again and I could make out where I was once more. The room was spinning as if I was drunk, and Jace was now licking me at a much slower pace, keeping me on the edge of what I could bear to feel.
At last, my surroundings stopped moving and I felt like I was fully occupying my own body again. Jace rose to his feet and I saw that he was now kicking off his remaining clothes.
His huge cock stood up straight, thick, and perfect, and he climbed back on the bed with pure lust in his eyes.