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But not today.
Today, she obeys.
“So hot,” I say through gritted teeth. “Want you so much. Fuck!”
I ram into her, releasing.
Skye isn’t the only one getting a lesson in feeling tonight.
I feel.
I fucking feel.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The next morning, Skye steps out of the shower into the warm bath sheet I provide.
“Why didn’t you join me?” she asks.
“Because we both have work to do today.” I rub the towel over her dripping body. “And if I had joined you, we’d be spending the morning in bed.”
She smiles.
I’m tempted. So tempted. Dimitri can handle things at the office, especially since we came to an agreement the first night.
But Skye?
Skye has an important meeting today. A career-defining meeting, and I want her to be on top of everything.
And she’s going to remember who she is during every second. I’ve found a way to make sure of it.
“I do have one surprise for you today, though,” I say.
“What’s that?”
I pull a stainless-steel anal plug out of my pocket. “This.”
Her eyes widen with recognition.
“A butt plug,” she says.
“That’s right. You’re going to wear this to your interview.”
“The hell I am.” She whips her hands to her hips, letting the bath sheet fall to the tile floor.
I inhale briskly at the sight of her gorgeous naked body, still red from the warm shower.
God, she’s distracting.
But I have more than enough control not to succumb to distraction.
“Oh, you are,” I say. “You want to know why?”
“Please. Enlighten me.”
“Because it will remind you of me. Every time you find yourself wondering what to say or how to act, this will remind you that I’m with you, and you’ll know exactly what to do.”
“It’s not a magic butt plug, Braden.”
I curve my lips into a semi-smile. “It has its own kind of magic. It will remind you of my control over you, which in turn will remind you of your control over your career.”
Of course my intentions aren’t completely altruistic.
I’ll be on Skye’s mind all day. Every time she moves and feels the toy in her ass, she’ll think of me.
I hand it to her. “Look at it. Feel its weight.”
She examines the toy. It’s the shape of a small light bulb with a pink jewel on the end—the part that will show from her ass.
I’ll be thinking of that pink jewel sticking out of her ass…
Oh, I’ll get my work done. My control is legendary.
But Skye with that pink jewel in her ass? That image will be in the back of my mind all fucking day.
I grab a plastic bottle. “Water-based lubricant,” I say, “to help it go in.”
I stand over one of the sinks and squeeze a bit of lube onto the toy. I smooth it over the bulb with my fingers. “Ready?”
She doesn’t reply.
But she doesn’t say no, either.
“Bend over,” I say. “Show me that gorgeous ass.”
She obeys, gripping the edge of the countertop.
I probe her ass with the slick tip of the plug. “Relax.”
The muscles of her rim loosen slightly.
“I’m going to slide the tip in. Breathe.”
She winces a bit at the invasion, but once it’s in and the thinner part between the bulb and the jewel rests against her rim, her tension diminishes.
“This will remind you who you are, Skye, as you embark on this new career. It will remind you that you’re mine and that I believe in you.”
“What will it remind you of?” she asks.
Nicely done, Skye.
Of course she already knows I get something out of this too.
“It reminds me that I’m going to claim that ass soon.” I gaze into her eyes. “Very soon.”
Chapter Thirty
After a morning of phone calls and signing documents, I finally have a chance to check emails.
I pull up my account and—
A throat clears in my doorway.
I look up from my computer.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I say, not quietly.
In the doorway stands Addison Ames.
“Who let you in?” I demand.
“Your receptionist downstairs is a huge fan of mine, so I buttered her up a little.”
Okay. So she’s fired. I make a quick note on a Post-It for Dimitri.
“And there was no one sitting outside your office,” Addie continues, “so here I am.”
She’s dressed eerily similar to how Skye left the penthouse this morning—a gray double-breasted suit, an off-white blouse, and black pumps. Is the handbag different? I don’t know. I didn’t pay attention to Skye’s purse, but Addie is carrying a black bag with the double-C logo. I think it’s Chanel.
Bizarre. She’s clearly watching us both and not even trying to hide it. So I won’t give her the satisfaction of mentioning the similarity of her clothing to Skye’s. At least not yet. I can’t do anything anyway, and Addie is no threat to either of us.
“I’m busy,” I say, glancing back at my computer screen. “Besides, you shouldn’t be here. You and I both know that.”
“Are you going to call a cop?”
