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Chapter Thirty-One:
The King of Hell and a Devil
Zeppelin
I may not have been an expert on scenes, but I knew enough from what Sterling told me to recognize the signs. First, the lights were dimmed when I walked in the house, something I’d only known they could do because I always accidentally twisted the switch instead of pushed. Second, Carl didn’t greet me. While I was expecting to be plowed over by eighty pounds of clumsy, excited husky, there was empty space. Third, I could hear faint music coming from the bedroom as I ascended the stairs with my heart beating in my throat. And lastly, the last and final thing that tipped me off to the fact that this particular scene had begun the second I walked in the door ... was Sterling himself.
He was dressed to the nines, blacked-out suit and hair perfectly, lightly gelled, with shiny shoes and a look of hunger on his face so intense that it nearly brought me to my knees.
There were black and grey ties neatly spread across the edge of the bed near where he sat, two bottles of water on the bedside table just behind him, and here again, the lights were dimmed.
I approached him tentatively, hands shaking at my sides as I imagined all the things Sterling was going to do to me tonight. “Hello, Sir.”
“My gorgeous, beautiful Zeppelin. Did you decide how you want to get off?” he asked, holding out a hand for me to come straddle his lap.
Suddenly something on the checklist popped up in my head and I felt like I was wearing entirely too many articles of clothing. “I’d like to be in some lace, Sir. Can I change? I only have one outfit for now but I’ll have to go get more for our scenes. I— your suits turn me on ... I want to turn you on too.”
“Everything you do turns me on, but yes. You should be comfortable. Take your time.”
I rushed back to my room to change, letting my hair down from its tie once I had on my baby pink lace underwear and I looked myself over in the mirror. I took three deep breaths before I made my way back to my spot on his thigh, then shuddered at how the lace felt on my clit. “Can I come like this, Sir? Right here on your slacks.”
He jerked, reaching a hand up to grip my chin and hold my gaze. “This is one of my favorite suits. If you want this, put your hands on my shoulders and ride my thigh like you rode my cock the night you took what you wanted.”
“I want it, Sir.” I rolled my hips and attempted to glance down to see how hard he was, but that grip on my chin was sound.
I’d only get to imagine it.
The moan I released vibrated all the way down to my fingertips where my nails dug into the jacket blocking his gorgeous skin, and after one particular grind, I felt how wet the spot I was riding already was. His expensive suit, his favorite fucking suit was nothing more than my come rag, and that knowledge had me shuddering and gasping his name.
“Does that feel good, sweetheart? Do you like knowing you’re going to ruin this suit? I closed the biggest deal of my career in this suit. A six-billion-dollar deal. But you’re so good for me, so beautiful like this that it would be a waste not to let you come all over it. Keep moving, Miss Bryce. Grind that wet, perfect pussy on my thigh.”
I nearly couldn’t handle it. If he wasn’t holding me up by my jaw, I’d have collapsed right there, begging for him to bend me over something and fuck me so hard I needed one of Charlie’s wheelchairs. I felt dirty, sinful, filthy as the damp lace slid through my lips and rubbed my clit. Overheated and needy and taut as I gripped his shoulders tighter and rocked my hips faster, erratically. “Sir... Sir, I’m close.”
“Good girl. You’re gorgeous like this, Zeppelin. Look at me.” He tilted my head as his other hand slid down and tugged my panties to the side to expose my soaked pussy fully, then raised his knee to add a little more pressure. “Give it to me. “Come for me.”
“Thank you, Sir! Thank you, th— fuck!” I came so hard I clenched around his leg, digging my nails into his skin as I moaned his name like the goddamned prayer it was.
Because this man was a fucking god.
He kissed me, releasing my chin to wrap his arms tightly around me and hold me steady as I continued to roll my hips, chasing the last dregs of that high. But each kiss, each swipe of his tongue across my teeth and into my mouth had me closer to begging to have him, for his tongue, his fingers, his cock, his words.
Anything.
Everything.
“Up, sweetheart. On all fours at the end of the bed. Ass up.”
“Oh, thank fuck!” I stepped back to look at the mess on his lap, grinning at him when I saw him glance down at it and then got on all fours like I was told. “Like this, Sir? Will the suit stay on?”
“Do you want it to?” he asked, lining up behind me and running his hands over the lace covering my ass.
“Hell yeah,” I gasped. “Long as I get you naked for cuddles, Sir.” I wiggled a little, once again fighting the urge to beg for that cock.
“Then it stays.”
He slid his hand between my thighs and slapped my clit, but I barely had time to react to that before his mouth was on me. Heat spread from my pussy to my fingertips with one swipe of his tongue. I felt exposed, completely at his mercy and I fucking loved it. “Sterling!”
Sharp, beautiful pain blossomed quickly as he bit me. “Call me Sir when I’m making you come. Understood?”
