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“Get it off,” she says through clenched teeth. “Get it off, get it off.”
“Not till you come again,” I reply, grabbing her foot and giving the bottom a good whack.
I can’t tell if she can feel it over the intensity of the clit sucker. Devilishly, I click the power up a notch.
“Shit!” she shrieks before her body devolves into a new set of convulsions.
Her body bucks violently. I back off the intensity of the vibrations. I can’t wait much longer before sinking into her. Plus, her neck’s probably sore.
I adjust the rigging and pull on some ropes to change her position to one that’s more upright and facing a wall of mirrors. Behind her, I step out of my underwear and rub my hardened shaft before sinking into her pussy. Fuck. She is crazy wet. My body is on cloud nine as I thrust into her.
Grabbing her hair, I pull her head up. “I want you to see yourself coming.”
“I don’t need to come again,” she says.
“It’s not an option, Bridge.”
Reaching around her, I click on the clit sucker again. Her eyes widen. I pound into her harder, occasionally rubbing against the vibrator. I look in the mirror and see that her gaze is lowered.
“I want to see those eyes, Bridge.”
I tug on her hair so that she looks up. Her brow is furrowed, her teeth clenched. She glances down.
“Eyes up and open,” I command, slamming my hips into her for emphasis. “I want you to see how fucking amazing you look when you come.”
It takes some apparent effort, but she manages to keep her gaze fixed on the mirror until the moment her orgasm blows through her. Her mouth is wide open as she emits a scream that starts off silent at first. I bury myself in her, feeling her coming around me, and I’m lost. I couldn’t control it if I tried. I meet her orgasm with mine in a haze of thrusting and bucking.
“Get it off! Mercy!” she sobs through chattering teeth.
I withdraw and turn off the vibrator, then lower her to the floor before removing it. Sitting down, I cradle her in my arms. She looks at me with glassy, moist eyes.
“I hate and love you at the same time,” she murmurs.
After holding her for several minutes, we eventually get up and head back upstairs. As we prepare for bed, my phone rings. It’s Hao Young.
“I should take this call,” I tell Bridget, who’s brushing her teeth at the bathroom sink.
I walk out of my bedroom and, out of an abundance of caution, out of my residence altogether so Bridget doesn’t hear the call. No one but me, Cheryl and Marshall know the current code for the elevator. And, more recently, Bridget.
“I wanted to follow up on our call from last time,” Hao Young says. “How about you come to Hong Kong three weeks from now? I’ll get several initial meetings setup so that you can meet everyone. A lot of them worked for your father. He chose good people. It’s a skill I think you have as well.”
The timing works well, I realize. It’ll coincide with Bridget’s last week for the semester when she’ll be busy with finals.
“Sounds good,” I reply.
“My colleagues are looking forward to seeing you, and I have every confidence that you will do your father proud.”
After the call ends, I step back inside my place.
“There you are,” Bridget greets. “Why did you take your call out there?”
I search for a reason. “Because…I was worried the call might run long and didn’t want to keep you up in case you were ready to go to bed.”
She smiles. “That’s sweet of you.”
I’m taken aback. I’ve never been called “sweet” before.
“But who’s calling at this hour of the night?” she asks.
