Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 72648 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72648 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
My cry of release is warbled because of his mouth covering mine, then he’s coming hard.
He lifts his head, tosses it back, and I marvel as the muscles in his neck cord tightly as he growls out a long, gratifying orgasm while his hips grind into mine.
For a long moment, we lay there and try to catch our breath. But then he lifts his head, looks down with a wry grin. “Good thing you like me fucking you.”
“Why is that?” I whisper.
“Because we’re just getting started,” he promises, and I couldn’t be happier to hear that.
CHAPTER 15
Declan
“Miss Robbins,” I call, knowing this isn’t necessary or pertinent to our workday.
Yet, I call her all the same.
As per usual, when I request something of her, she grabs her iPad, pushes out of her office chair, and walks into my office.
Not sure if she always had a sexy-as-fuck stride, but I sure as shit see it now. Maybe because I spent a great deal of time watching those hips roll and writhe last night, but they draw my attention as she approaches.
“Yes, Mr. Blackwood?” she says primly.
Last night, it was “Fuck me harder, Declan,” and, “I don’t think I can come again.”
Yet… she always did.
I fucked her in three different rooms, in three deliciously kinky ways. After The Deck, I paraded her naked through the club, her dress thrown over my shoulder, knowing it would cause her discomfort while forcing her to step outside her comfort zone. I led her to The Orgy room where we lounged on silk pillows while we sipped at whiskeys, watching the shows around us. She’d laid her head on my lap for a bit, but that hadn’t lasted long. It was impossible to be in that environment without getting turned on.
Her mouth ended up on my cock, then I put her on her hands and knees, drilling her hard from behind until we both came spectacularly. My favorite part had been pulling out, taking the condom off, and watching her clean me off with her tongue. I didn’t order her to. The fact she took it upon herself not only impressed me about the levels she’d go to please a man, but it also endeared her to me in a way no woman ever has before.
We finished our evening in The Silo. She hadn’t been there before, and I enjoyed her slack-jawed, wide-eyed response as she took in the various inner rooms with kinky shit playing out in them.
We took a break, sat at the bar—her in all her naked glory—and slowly sipped fresh drinks. I explained the stuff she didn’t understand—a woman on a St. Andrew’s cross—and learned more about her limits. She seemed a bit cagey about bringing in other people to play with us, but I’m okay with that. There is plenty of other stuff—an unlimited amount—we can explore until we get bored with each other.
We ultimately ended up in one of the glass-walled rooms, and I put her in a harness that hoisted her off the floor to hover at any height I wanted. Cock level so she could suck on me, chin level so I could eat her out. Lower so I could fuck her. People watched from outside the glass walls as I fucked her while still suspended from the ceiling.
But where do we go from here?
Bailey watches me with a bland expression, digital pen poised over the iPad. We worked together all day—seamlessly and with the utmost professionalism. I almost have myself convinced this can work for as long as I want it to.
“Please move my dinner appointment back half an hour,” I clip out, looking at the calendar on my laptop. “Marianne needs some time to go over the operations budget. I need you to run last quarter’s P&L, then compare it to the same quarter last year. Something’s not adding up. Afterward, run up to my suite, grab one of my navy suits, and pick a tie to match. Finally, cancel my car service for the evening. I’ve decided to drive.”
She doesn’t hesitate, scribbling a few notes before turning on her heel. “Right away.”
Bailey makes it two steps before I stop her. “Miss Robbins.”
Halting, she glances back. “Yes?”
“Meet me at the club at eleven.” I focus my attention on my laptop, effectively dismissing her.
“I’m sorry,” she replies, her tone making me lift my head. “But I can’t tonight.”
Not understanding, I say, “Excuse me?”
“I have plans tonight,” she says simply, and doesn’t offer any further explanation.
“What plans?”
Her head tips to the side, her smile slightly bland. “I have something I have to do and won’t be able to make the club tonight. But maybe tomorrow night.”
I don’t like this. Being denied, I mean.
I also don’t like how beyond curious I am about what could be more important than delving back into the sinful luxury of The Wicked Horse.