I can see he’s dangling by a very frayed rope, so I reach behind me for the zipper on the back of my black satin dress and slowly lower it. The fabric gapes, and I let the slim straps slide off my shoulders. I don’t watch the dress but Rick as he tracks my gown’s descent from my body to the floor.
I step out of the fabric and kick it to the side. There is something so vulnerable yet so incredibly hot about standing before a man as powerful as Rick when he’s still fully dressed in his beautiful suit and I’m wearing nothing but a pair of black lace cheeky panties, my tall black heels, and some cheap fake jewelry. Grace offered to loan me some real jewelry, but that felt wrong somehow. Like I was pretending to be someone I’m not. So I politely declined my friend’s generous offer and instead went as myself. It’s not designer, it’s not even real, but it’s me, and that’s as real as it gets.
“Lose the jewelry,” he orders, and I pull the backing off of an earring made of long strands of dangling paste stones. I clip the backing back on once it’s free from my ear and drop it to the dresser top before treating the second one to the same routine. “You shouldn’t be wearing fake shit.”
“I wear what I can afford,” I reply as I slip the bracelets off my wrists and set them on the dresser with the earrings.
“Whose fault is that?” I think I hear him murmur, but when I look at him, his face is carefully blank, making me doubt I heard anything at all.
I roll my bottom lip in between my teeth and watch as Rick lets his coat slip down his arms before carefully draping it over the back of a chair. He pops one cufflink and then the other, flipping back his cuffs before pocketing the little gold links. Each of his movements is precise, exacting. His eyes never leave mine.
He reaches up toward his collar and pulls the tail of his bowtie. The knot springs loose, letting the ends fall open. His corded wrist flexes as he plucks each stud from the front of his shirt free, shoving them in his pants pocket with his cufflinks.
“Lie back,” he commands me with his low voice, and I sit on the edge of the bed. I start to kick off my heels, but he stops me with a wave of his hand. “Leave them.”
I use my hands for balance as I push back up the bed and lie against the pillows. Rick shrugs his dress shirt off and tosses it over the chair with his jacket before stalking toward the bed like a big cat. He pulls his wallet from his back pocket and plucks a strip of three condoms from the billfold, tossing them to the bed beside me before dropping his wallet to the floor. He unzips his pants and lets them fall to the floor. His cock stands long and hard, and he grips the base tight in his fist before crawling up the bed to sit on his heels at my feet.
Rick glides his hands down my calf, tickling me just a little as he raises my foot and slips the heel off before tossing it to the floor. He rolls the stocking down my leg before dropping it over the side of the bed and placing my foot carefully back down on the bed.
He slides his hand down my other leg, raising it so he can slide the shoe off my foot like a kinky Prince Charming with his Cinderella. He presses his mouth to the arch of my foot before reaching for the top of my stocking and rolling it down my leg. But this time, instead of tossing it aside, Rick twists it around his hands over and over. Finally, he looks up at my eyes, but what I see there, I’m not sure.
“Should I tie you up with these?” he asks. His voice is low and rough. “Should I bind you and punish you? Fuck knows you deserve it.”
“If you’d like,” I answer in a barely there whisper. The truth is I would do whatever Rick asks of me, just for another second with him, at his side, in his bed, whatever he will give me. And I’ll take it gladly. But a secret part of me knows I’d love all of the dirty things he whispers to me when he’s too far gone to sensor his words.
“Maybe another time,” he says, studying me before tossing the silk over the edge of the bed. “But not tonight. Tonight, I need you to use your hands.”
And then he grabs the waistband of my panties and pulls them down my legs. The cool air hits my damp pussy, and I let out a moan and arch back while trying to squeeze my thighs together, only Rick won’t let me. With his strong hands on my inner thighs, he presses my legs open before dropping down between them.
There is no gentling me into his play tonight. The first swipe of his tongue is hard and brutal; the second forces my arousal even higher. And when he thrusts two fingers inside me, I twist the bedding in my fists and gasp as my climax rolls over me.
But Rick is far from done.
He sits back on his heels, rips open one of the condom packets, and rolls the latex down his rigid length. There are no flowery sentiments or pretty words, only silence as he leans forward and slowly fills me with one stroke while he leans his weight on my open thighs.
I deserve this. Every hate-filled look as he slowly drives his cock into my waiting body. He’s burning me alive and flaying my heart open all at the same time, and still, it’s less than I deserve. When his thumb skates over my clit, I know I’m done for. Another slow pass has me gasping.
Rick leans farther back, sitting on his heels, pulling me by my upper legs onto his cock. The movement impales me over and over again and pulls a whimper from deep in my chest.
“Touch yourself,” he demands as he plunges into me again. “Show me how you touch yourself when you’re all alone. Get yourself off on my cock with your hand.”
I want to do just that. A shiver wracks up my spine at the thought of taking what I want, what I need from him and letting him watch me. I trail my hand over my belly and reach for my center where we’re joined as he thrusts. I let my fingers wander farther down and feel the slip and slide of our bodies before drawing my hand back up to circle my fingers over my clit.
“Yes, that’s it,” he chants as his grip tightens on my thighs and he moves even faster still. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Faster. That’s it, faster.”
“Yes,” I pant as I move my fingers like I do at home when no one is watching. I feel my core clench around his hard length, and I arch my back as he drives me down on his cock again and again. I’m lost to the dance our bodies know so well.
“Feel how your pussy squeezes my cock,” he growls as he pulls me over him harder, faster.
“Yes.”
“Fuck,” he bites out. “I can’t hold back.”
“Don’t.”
“Tell me you’re close,” he says as his movements become jerkier.
“Yes. I’m close.”
