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I’ve had worse ideas.
“We won’t have time to go to the casino tomorrow.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’ll still be working off that $30k.”
Shit…you won’t see me complaining. Tell me how you want it! Like Missy said, put that thang down, flip it, and reverse it.
“If you’re broke, just say that,” I teased playfully. He rolled his eyes and rolled over, positioning me on my back.
“That $18 million has gone to your head. You still have a long way to go before you catch up to me.”
“I have a question, and feel free to tell me to mind my business.”
“Mind your business,” he taunted from above me as he peeled my dress off at a tantalizingly slow pace. I gave him a look. “I’m joking. What do you want to know?”
“When do you plan on retiring? It sounds like you’re very wealthy and come from old money. You don’t have to work yourself to death well into your fifties or sixties.”
“Theoretically, I could retire today, but I love what I do, and I have to keep working until one of my children takes over the practice.”
“You could’ve just said Grant.”
“I don’t know. The jury is still out on him.”
“He’d be a shark of a lawyer. He certainly would be capable of standing toe-to-toe with someone like Burgess with no problem,” I insisted.
He laughed and walked to the corner of the bedroom where an armchair and ottoman sat. He pushed the ottoman towards the foot of the bed and removed his suit jacket.
“Burgess is a pussy, and I heard through the grapevine that he was fired from Vance Oil,” Jonathan said with a crooked grin as he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt.
“I love it when you talk dirty,” I purred.
“You haven’t heard anything yet. We’ll get back to the generational wealth talk later, but for now, I need you to spread your legs and abuse that pretty pussy for me.”
“Jon…don’t do this,” I pleaded.
He took a seat on the ottoman with a pleased look. “What’s the matter, Kierra? I love to watch, too.”
“You’re trying to get me back for what I did to you at the hotel.”
“No, you’re working off that thirty grand. Legs open.”
I parted my legs on a whine when the cool air made contact with my hot heat. A strangled moan escaped me when Jonathan leaned in and spat on my pussy. Instinctually, my thighs snapped together from the unexpected contact.
“No, ma’am. Open back up,” he demanded.
My legs trembled as his saliva slid down my coated pussy down my ass crack. I reached down to soothe my throbbing clit when he stopped me.
“I didn’t tell you that you can touch yourself. Hands on the bed.”
This man is an absolute menace.
It was my turn to grip the sheets impatiently as I waited to be brought to fulfillment. He stared at my pussy, and I stared at him for what felt like an eternity, but it was only a few minutes. He leaned in and spat on my pussy again, forcing a whimper out of me.
“Keep them open,” he insisted in that deep, gravely tone that made my pussy clench and squelch. He did this twice more, and by the last time, I was legit crying tears. “What’s the matter, Kierra? I thought you loved edging.”
“No, I hate it,” I whined, hoping he’d have sweet mercy on me.
