Page 39 of His Puppet

“I paid you,” she protests, while simultaneously arching her hips toward me. Her breaths come out shallow, and they quicken as I pump into her, hitting her G-spot with every thrust.

“You didn’t really think I’d let you off easy, did you, sweetheart?”

A soft moan escapes her lips, and she squeezes my shoulders. I do a mental inventory of everything I have on me, not that I think she’d take anything. I’m hoping we’re past that. But I don’t often rely on hope.

A knife at my ankle and my wallet and phone in my pockets.

I cup Emily’s chin and forcefully shove her head against the wall. She gasps and lifts her arms above her, closing her eyes and riding the high I’m giving her.

I plant my lips to hers and move my hand around to cup the back of her head, pulling her into me. It takes a few seconds for her to relax, but when she does, she wraps her hands around my neck and allows me access into her mouth.

I slide my fingers from her pussy, and she whimpers. Her hips arch, and she breaks the kiss to look me in the eyes. My cock groans when I see the carnal desire pooling in them.

I take out my phone and wallet and toss both onto my desk. Emily rears back and laughs.

“Scared?” she asks, biting her bottom lip when I cup her ass.

“Step out of your pants. Now,” I say, ignoring her amusement. I’ll admit, it’s warranted.

She shrugs her pants down the rest of the way and kicks out of them. I lift her into the air and carry her from the office, kissing her hard as I head for the stairs.

We get to my bedroom, and I toss her on the bed where she bounces and catches herself on her elbows.

I open my nightstand drawer and shift the contents around until I find what I’m looking for.

“Would it mean anything if I told you to stop?” she asks, something indecipherable in her tone. Curiosity? Indifference? I don’t know, but not fear.

I pause and look at her. “Are you going to pretend you want me to?”

“You’re arrogant.”

“I know.”

Emily tilts her head, a trace of a smile on her lips. “Should I yell Mr. Bianchi when I fake come for you? Or is it okay to say Blade now?Sir.” Her lips lift in a smirk, and I pull the handcuffs from the drawer and kick it closed.

Her eyes glue to the cuffs, and her smirk falls.

“I’d rather you didn’t say anything. You talk too much as it is.”

“Wait,” Emily says, scooting back on the bed.

I grab her ankle and yank her toward me. “And to answer your earlier question… No, it wouldn’t matter if you told me to stop. Now flip over.”

“No.” She shakes her head and tries to scoot back again, but I have her ankle tightly locked in my grip. “I’m not into restraints.”

“I couldn't care less what you’re into. Flip over.”

My cock strains against my slacks, begging to be set free, and as moments tick by I get impatient.

But then I see it.

A panic sweeps over Emily’s expression, and I swear I see the same fear in her eyes as I did when I gave her a bath. I blink and it’s gone, but she doesn’t stop trying to get away from me.

“Seriously, Blade, I don’t give a shit what you think I owe you. I’m not letting you cuff me.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t fucking like it!” She lets out a frustrated sigh. “Look, I’ll fuck you, okay? There’s no reason to—”

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