Tainted Love (Book 1) (38 page)

“Ah, fuck!” he hisses as he rocks his hips. His cock jerks inside my mouth as pools of come fill it and spill down my chin.

He finally eases out of me and I open my mouth to show him all he had given me. And w
ith one big gulp, I swallow it down.

“All gone,” I say as though I’d just performed a magic trick.

“Get up there,” Ben growls, picking me up and tossing me onto the bed as if I weigh nothing.

His cock is still throbbing and hard. I thought he’d have been
softening.

He tugs me closer to the edge of the bed and flips me over so that I am on all fours. Pushing my legs wider apart, he thrusts deeply into me with no preamble whatsoever. My back arches as I take every inch of him inside me with a shrill cry.

Pounding into me, Ben whimpers as I clench around him. He hits inside me with blunt force, arousing my sweet spot. My pussy starts squishing, signaling that I have reached the point of no return.

Ben slams into me with more resolve and just before I hit the
heady peak of my climax, Ben stills, emitting the evidence of his own pleasure as he comes inside me. Tears course down my face as I try to ride him to get my own climax that he is so selfishly withholding from me.

“You…bastard,” I whisper, grinding against him. But there is no friction to be had as he withdraws from my needy sex. “Damn it, Ben!”

My center aches and pulses, needing to feel relief. My body burns, unsatisfied. I claw at him, trying to get hold of him so I can ride him, but he steps further away from me, his eyes glittering with mirth.

Frustrated, I leap from the bed and search in the armoire I’d spotted. The first draw I check houses exactly what I am searching for. I grab the biggest vibrator I can find and I click it on, thankful when it whirs to life.

I lower it to my aching core, about to thrust it in, when strong hands restrain me. Fighting against his firm hold, I try to break free. I need to come. I need the release. He can’t do this to me. He just can’t!

“Ben, please,” I beg.

Ben shakes the vibrator from my hand, letting it fall to the floor. He steadies me in his grip, hoisting me in the air with his arm around my waist and depositing me on the bed. He hovers over me and the penetrative force I see in his dark green eyes quiets me.

But I must know. I must.

“Why didn’t you make me come?” I ask, tears coursing down my face.

“Because that’s how I want you,” he speaks, his voice low, licentious and promising. He has more to give and God knows I want it all.

“You want me frustrated?” I ask, my voice soft and reluctant.

“Yes,” he whispers, trailing kissing along the lines of my tears. “Yes, my sweet girl.”

I pound hard on his chest and he grunts, taking every blow. Before I know it, I am in his arms and he is carrying me out of his Fulfillment Room.

“First we shower. Then we eat,” he whispers in my hair.

I am still crying when he takes me to the shower and we shower together. He coos soothing words in my ear, running his hand over my cooling ass. His every touch is gentle, careful, affectionate and attentive. Emotion threatens to reduce me to a crying mess at the way he is touching me, staring at me, taking care of me. I have never had this. I’ve never felt so…cared for before.

By the time he turns the shower off, I feel like a new woman; a cherished woman. I start drying off but Ben grabs the towel from me, offering to do the honors.
How sweet
, I think, pleasantly…until he starts. I am a fuming mess as he towels me off. The slightest touch sending delicious signals to my beating core. I wish he would forget about dinner and eat me instead. He is enjoying this way too much.

I push away from him sulkily and I rummage in my oversized bag for my pajama bottoms.

“No, no. My girl deserves to be wrapped in silk or nothing at all,” he says holding up a knee-length silk dress with black lace covering where cleavage would be. “I bought it for you on my way home.”

I narrow my eyes at him and grab the item from his hands. Slipping into it, I feel the sensuous caress of the material, setting my body alight once more. Lord Jesus, I need him.

I slip on the red lace panties he had wanted me to wear before and I catch him eyeing me desirously.

“I don’t know why you’re torturing both of us, you know?” I say, ogling his growing erection.

Ben flushes, looking away, and I smile knowing that I’d just made him blush. Are men supposed to even blush?

When he’s dressed in nothing but black silk pajama bottoms, we make our way to the kitchen. Turning the stove on under our dinner, I let it warm while I get our plates.

“Do you want to eat outside?” he asks.

“Outside?”

“Yes. There is one place I haven’t shown you yet. I wanted it to be for your eyes only,” he tells me.

“Okay.” Excitement bursts me open and a happy grin colors my features.

Ben disappears but returns soon after with two fluffy seating blankets and Afghans and gives them to me. He pulls out two covered heating trays and dishes the food in. He then puts the plates and forks in a picnic basket as well as two wine glasses. Handing the basket to me, he reaches inside the fridge and extricates a chilled bottle of
Perrier-Jouët
, also handing it to me.

He places the trays atop each other, opens, and then strolls out the door that leads outside. I follow, balancing the items in my hands. We walk along the stone walkway, passing the courts. Ben pushes a wooden gate which opens to a vast green area and I wonder if we should have worn shoes.

My eyes brighten with wonder as I see the Schuylkill River in the distance and the beauty of the lit boathouses. It is all so magical. I gasp at the view in front of me and hold my breath. It is all I can do not to burst into tears. Probably I am still feeling some level of sub-drop, some kind of after-effect of earlier, as my eyes begin to water, but this is so over-the-top. A grand gesture, indeed.

“This way,” he directs me to the left of the grounds where there is a canopy and seating area. We ascend the few stairs and rest the items on the large wooden table.

“Come,” he beckons, reaching for my hand. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” he asks when I grace his arms, my back to his front.

“Yes,” I breathe, utterly blown away. “I love it.”

“I’m glad you do.” He caresses my arms up and down as he holds me in his warm embrace.

There is nowhere else I would rather be right now. I would never give up this feeling for anything. I am at peace. Content. I feel cherished by this powerful man, completely taken over by him.
Sigh
.

I love him.

“Are you still upset with me?” he asks timidly, noticing my silence.

“No. No, I’m not.” I turn in his arms and press a soft, adoring kiss to his lips. How could I be?

The next morning passes in a blur. I don’t know how I got through it. I don’t even remember much of what I did before I got to First Steps. Thankfully, I have no counseling sessions to do today. I try to do some work on my research paper, but find myself distracted. Memories of last night and this morning with Ben, making me flush with desire all over again.

My ass i
s still a little sore and I remember my punishment every time I sit down and every time I get up. I remember how forceful he was and then how tender he was afterward. I remember last night and the wonderful night we spent outdoors. I remember how he brought me to the brink and left me dangling, again; promising that he will take care of me today. Heat pools between my legs and an ache starts deep in my core that I fail to stave off with squeezing my legs together.
Holy shit!

So, this is delayed gratification…

I text him, my clit pulsing with remembered bliss and desperate anticipation.

I love your mark on me. It turns me on
just remembering how it got there.

He responds almost immediately:

I haven’t been able to concentrate all day, my sweet girl. I want to see my mark on you.

I crinkle my nose, confused by what he is demanding. Then, it strikes me. I understand perfectly.

Cautiously rising from my desk, I hurry to the ladies’ room, locking the door behind me.
Don’t need anyone bursting in while I do this very naughty thing
.

I check the stalls to make sure no one is aro
und; then, lifting my black pencil skirt above my rosy behind, I snap a close up shot of my ass, with all its red markings, through the large bathroom mirrors. A thrill of excitement runs through me and I giggle with mischief, righting my clothes and exiting the bathroom.

Settling back into my office chair, I forward the picture along with a text:

I love the way you mark me. ;)

Shortly afterwards, I get a series of texts.

Fuck!

Sullivan

God!

I need to be inside you.

I smile, a rush of pleasure surging through me when I text back:

Good things come to those who wait.

I am disappointed when he doesn’t respond. Maybe he has plenty of work to finish and I am distracting him from it. Unhappily, I continue working on my research paper.

Half an hour later, there is a knock on my door.

“Come in,” I bid, without looking up. I rub the back of my neck as tingles shoot up my spine and my hairs stand. I turned off the air conditioning didn’t I?

“Miss Beal?” Caroline, the receptionist, says, poking her head inside. Her face is flushing crimson.

Caroline is a year older than I am. She has long, golden blonde hair and the most beautiful blue eyes to go with it. She is petite and lacks the curves that I possess. She is not the type of woman I would normally be attracted to, but somehow I am.

“Is everything alright, Caroline?” I ask, my tone one of professionalism, batting my unbridled thoughts back.

“Y-yes,” she stutters. Why is she so nervous? “There’s…there’s a Mr. Ben Hayes here to see you.”
Ah.

That’s
why she is so flustered.
That’s
why my body is tingling the way it is. It is aware of his proximity; always attuned to him. This man, possessive and controlled, has possessed me and has my body under control. I should be scared, but…

Caroline opens the door wider and I see him standing in the hallway, big, beautiful, and fucking turned on. He radiates desire. I can see it all over him and the bulge in his pants says it all quite loudly. I wonder if Caroline saw. I don’t like that thought at all.

My body heats further to boiling point under his libidinous gaze and I, too, become flustered. “Uh…uh, please, l-let him in.”

He smirks as he stalks past her, eyeing me with heavy-lidded craving.
Jesus
.

“That’ll be all Miss Justice,” he says to her without taking his eyes off me.

Caroline blushes yet again and she eases out the door, closing it.

With a turn of the lock, Ben seals us in.

“What are you––”

Ben holds up a hand and cuts me off. Crooking his finger, he calls me to him, and I nothing short of glide to him. I must have glided. Otherwise, how do I explain being in his arms, enraptured in his impassioned kiss? Because, I don’t remember getting up from my desk.

“That picture,” he growls as he kisses me feverishly, bruising my lips. “That picture…”

“Ben,” I say in a low rumble. Oh God. He is going to take me in this office. I know it, but I am too lustful to care.

He shifts the papers I have on my desk as well as my laptop and perches me on top of the desk, spreading my legs. Dropping to his knees, he pulls me to his face and he inhales me deeply.

“You’re already wet for me. I can smell it,” he mutters satisfyingly.

Shoving my black thong to the side, he wastes no time in sucking my engorged clit between his tongue and teeth.

“Jesus, Ben,” I moan, gripping his head.