The problem: I’m horny. It’s been months since I’ve had an orgasm not from my hands or my toys. Certainly not a man. I’ve been busy, busier than normal, and while I almost took to my own devices after catching Dom’s heated gaze two weeks ago, the champagne went to my head, and by the time I got home, sleep hit me in one massive wave.
Now, I’m alone, my thoughts are running wild, and I know I need an orgasm or I’m going to go out of my godforsaken mind. I toss my phone to the mattress, the screen glowingwith the remnants of a text conversation that has me on edge. We’ve yet to cross the line into intimacy, but the tension only intensifies with every interaction. And I’m pretty sure given the opportunity, he’d have taken full advantage if we were alone.
I crawl across the bed, reaching for my nightstand, and open the lower drawer, digging around until I find my familiar favorite: a deep purple rabbit-style vibrator. The shaft is thick and long, the ears flutter against my clit in the best possible way, and there’s even a smaller cocked shape attached to play with my ass. The way I’m feeling tonight, I think I’ll need all three working in tandem. I grab my lube as well, though truth be told, I probably won’t need it.
I strip myself of my nightgown and prop myself up against a stack of pillows. I imagine Dom’s eyes as they flashed with unbridled desire in the elevator, the way he dipped his head, almost as if he were going to kiss me but instead breathed me in, whispering against the shell of my ear and causing shivers to cascade down my body.
My breathing hitches, thinking about how it would be if he were sitting in the chair in the corner of the room. He’d pull it up to the foot of the bed, looking but not touching, watching with bated breath, getting as close as possible as I cup my breast, my thumb sliding along the pebbled tip. My head tips backward.
“Hmm,” I hum into the quiet room. My eyes close and I work the vibrator’s button by memory alone, turning on the soft hum of the tip, and roll it around my other nipple. Only I wish it were Dom’s hands and his tongue swirling in the rhythmic circles.
I part my legs, leaving my aching breasts and trailing the toy down my sternum, circling it around my navel before going further. The second the silicone tip vibrates against my lower abdomen, a single syllable slips from my lips, much like a confession.
“Dom,” I whisper. I slowly move the toy lower, hovering it just near my entrance. This is sheer torture, and I’m doing it to myself. The last thing I want is to rush this only to need to come multiple times when what I really need is sleep after a long day at the hospital. My hips instinctively arch off the bed, heart hammering against my chest while the ache in my core becomes heavy and demanding. There’s nothing between me and the relief I’m craving.
I rub the tip of the vibrator along the lips of my pussy, gathering wetness from them and coating the silicone, no lube will be necessary tonight. I’m so wet, that by the time I slip the length inside, it’ll be a nice, snug fit. When it hits my clit, the sensation becomes overwhelming and causes me to gasp. My hand comes away from my breast, needing to grip the sheets beneath me, my knuckles turning white as my hips move in slow, small circles against the toy, matching the pulses of the vibration.
“Fuck me,” I breathe out at the memory of Dom’s deep voice, his dark eyes, and the way he looked at me in the elevator.
“No, sweetheart. Fuck the toy,” I hear him commanding my next move as he watches between my spread legs. The mirror attached to my dresser across the room shows me what I look like when my eyes flutter open. Perspiration dots my skin, and my muscles shake. “Show me how you make yourself feel good.” His voice is a low, gravelly rumble, and I arch into the vibrator, sinking the length into myself. The rabbit part flutters against my clit. My body quakes at the dual sensation, and I haven’t fit the snug part against my ass yet.
“Jesus, Cory.” The fantasy is far too realistic. When I fit the snug part at my back entrance, slowly pushing in, and up the notch of the intensity, the low hum grows sharper. My body feels wired, every nerve firing at once.
“Dom. Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I chant, somehow managing to keep my eyes open. Seeing myself in the mirror is hot as fuck, and I swear the thought of Dom here, moving closer, wrapping his hands around my ankles, pulling me to the edge and scenting me a lot like he did in the elevator causes my ass and pussy to clench around the toy. My thighs tighten, muscles coiling, and my orgasm hits with a sudden force. My back comes off the bed as a loud, breathless gasp tears from my throat, the vibrator still working as my release ripples through my core. I squeeze my eyes shut as intense pleasure washes over me.
It’s not until I click the toy off and slowly pull it out of my body with a trembling hand, dropping it to the mattress beside me, that I completely collapse. I take in the slope of my body, a fine sheen of perspiration covering my flush skin, and the heavy restlessness is now gone, replaced with my muscles feeling like water.
I grab my phone and bring up our message thread. I left him on delivered after his last text. Now, though, I have a response, one I’m sure I’ll have a reply to when I wake up in the morning.
Cory: You have no idea how easy you made that for me. Good night, Dom.
Once I hitSend, I lock my phone, slip it under my pillow, and close my eyes. God, if this is what I can do by myself, there’s no telling what will happen when Dom gets his hands on me.
CHAPTER FIVE
dom
Ikeep looking down at my cell phone, at the last message Cory sent, to be exact. I’d woken up to a surprise I didn’t see coming. She’s a minx, and if she was trying make my cock throb, she did a damn good job. Last night, I’d taken a cold shower. This morning, I can’t say the same. My hand wrapped around my length, my palm held me up against the marble wall in the shower, and I came in a matter of minutes thinking about Cory. One time wasn’t enough. My dick stayed hard and had me taking matters into my own hand a second time.
Now, I’m in my corner office of the forty-fifth floor of Sterling Capital, and it’s entirely too fucking quiet for my liking. Currently because I responded to Cory, and I’ve yet to get a response. She’s probably asleep, needing more sleep than I’m accustomed to. I usually go to bed around two, wake up at six o’clock in the morning to get up to work out, grab a quick bite to eat, studying the market while doing so, before dressing for work and getting home by nine o’clock.
Dom: You walked away with a win last night. I let you have that one. Next time, you won’t get off so easily.
The message sits delivered. I’m half-tempted to call her, and the only reason I’m stopping myself is seeing the timestamp from when her last message was sent. I’d been asleep. Clearly, she hadn’t, and I’m sure it’s because she was taking care of herself.
The phone on my desk comes alive with a low aggressive hum. I let it ring a couple of times before I pick it up. I bring the receiver to my ear. My voice is controlled, authoritative, and unrelenting. “Mercer.”
“I have the final report, Dom,” a disgruntled voice says on the other end of the line. It’s Miller, the most discreet, high-priced private investigator in the Pacific Northwest.
“Why do I have the distinct feeling I’m not going to like what you have to say?” I tunnel my hand through my hair, ready for something a hell of a lot stronger than the tar-like coffee I grabbed from the cafeteria downstairs. I won’t be doing that in the foreseeable future.
“Honestly, it’s a miracle she’s still breathing, let alone working twelve-hour shifts six days a week.” A tight knot forms in the center of my chest as an uncontrollable wave of protecting her comes to life.
“Give me the rundown, Miller. What am I looking at?” I’m to hear what I need to hear and see what I need to see in the way of him emailing me his findings.
“She’s drowning,” he says flatly, rustling through papers on the other end of the line. “She’s up to her eyeballs in debt. We’re talking six figures, and she’s running out of time and money. She’s got old student loans from her nursing degree.And get this: she just re-enrolled for graduate classes she doesn’t have time for. The woman is taking out new loans to use the cash payout to cover her living expenses. To put it bluntly, she’s robbing Peter to pay Paul.” I lean back in my chair, eyes narrowing as I stare out the bank of floor-to-ceiling windows. The gray Seattle skyline does nothing to calm the anger spiking inside me. Corinne Pierson, beautiful, brilliant, and proud. It makes me wonder if her friends know anything about this information Miller is delivering.
“Why is she desperate for cash?” I demand, my knuckles whitening around the phone. “A nurse in the department she works in makes decent money. Where the fuck is it all going?”
