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He savored it. He prolonged it for as long as possible. I both hated and adored him for such delicious torture, wanting it to end and to continue all at the same time.
“Come for me, my good girl.”
Finally, his fingers pressed more firmly down on my needy bud, and I cried out, suddenly overwhelmed with such intense pleasure that my entire body tensed. High-pitched animalistic sounds escaped my lips, but I was only just aware enough to know that it was me.
I didn’t even begin to try to fight that orgasm. I willingly let the power of it take me captive, shaking and writhing in his lap as my nervous system short-circuited with deliciously intoxicating pleasure that seemed to know no bounds.
I squeezed my eyes shut, blinded by the white-hot bliss that rattled through me. Pleasure surged over me in waves as Jon wrapped his arms around me. I held onto him for dear life, moaning and screaming his name as his fingers continued to swirl over my pussy.
That single orgasm seemed to go on and on and by the time it finally released me, I was left gasping for air. His hand cupped my pussy. I wondered absentmindedly if he could feel it throbbing beneath his fingers.
I sighed and snuggled up against his chest, listening to the beat of his heart once more. For a while, the two of us were silent as I coped with the aftershocks of such a powerful release. My legs had gone numb. Several minutes passed, but he continued to hold me close, petting my hair and placing soft kisses on the top of my head.
It was heaven.
“I will get you set up in a hotel suite of your own tonight so you can begin your work uninterrupted,” he said quietly, and I nodded.
“I will give you a phone with my number programmed in it. You will only answer my calls, no one else’s, do you understand?”
“I do,” I replied.
“If you don’t answer my phone call, I will take it to mean that you need me to visit you and I will be at your door within the hour with my belt already in hand,” he warned.
I shivered against him. A part of me wanted to do exactly that, but another craved to be obedient for him. I didn’t understand it. I didn’t really want to. Either way, knowing he would check in on me over the phone or in person made me feel cared for. Honestly, it took me by surprise.
“I understand,” I whispered. Bravely, I lifted my chin and pressed my lips against his throat. He groaned with desire, letting me explore on my own for a brief moment before he grasped my chin and captured me in a kiss.
“You’re mine, Mila. Mine to hold, to punish and subdue. Mine,” he growled and my entire core shook with hope.
Did he really mean that?
As if he knew, he kissed all my doubts away. His lips were persistent, claiming me in every sense. The taste of him was divine, sweet, and creamy with a hint of coffee. His scent was consuming, masculine and smoky and musky. He groaned and the sound of it vibrated at the edges of my nerves, electrifying me from the inside out. His lips were soft and rough against mine and I gasped, opening my eyes only briefly to catch a glimpse of his dark possessive gaze.
It broke me apart all at once.
“You can’t mean that,” I breathed.
“I do, Mila. The moment they dragged you into my office, I decided you were mine. I will spend every day for the rest of my life proving that to you.”
They truly didn’t make men like this anymore. I wouldn’t have believed he was even real if I wasn’t sitting here touching him myself.
“Jon… I…”
I didn’t know what to say and he kissed me again so that I didn’t have to. When he finally pulled away, I was breathless with hope and desire and a mess of emotions that I didn’t even begin to know how to deal with.
Maybe distance would be good.
I squeaked in surprise when he lifted me and carried me down the hall into another office. He sat down and placed me back in his lap again, reaching around me and pulling up a pen and paper for me.
“Write down everything you need, and I’ll make some calls. I’ll have you fully set up in your own suite tonight,” he dictated.
I took the pen out of his hand. I started writing down everything I could think of. The computers. Network ports. Blueprints.
The all-important snacks.
“You don’t have to list coffee, baby girl,” he smiled, and I giggled a little because I had literally just begun writing that first letter. I finished writing it out anyway and he reached beneath my robe and pinched my nipple lightly. It didn’t hurt.
He’d called me baby girl.
