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He ravished her. And she returned the sentiment by feeding him the wetness he seemed to crave. He made her come twice more. Once with her clit in his mouth, and the other time, he parted her folds and watched her pulsate with her orgasm for him.
She, in turn, thrashed across the table, torrents of wild, untamed sensations causing riots under her skin for him. And the sounds that came from her mouth were muffled because his belt kept her gagged. He would never know how she had begged him to take her. To put his cock inside as if her life depended on it at that very moment.
She gasped as he stood up from the seat he had taken again and brought her to the edge of the table.
He pulled her against him until her drenched pussy settled over his rock-hard and enormous cock, leaving an impression on her bare skin as his zipper lightly bruised her in the most delectable way.
She couldn’t help herself. She swayed a little, then pressed herself into him, making him roar at her. Her pussy spasmed against him. She didn’t want to look down to see how she had yet again ruined his pants.
The word 'bicycle' was still echoing in her head, and she knew the moment he would remove his belt, that would be the first thing that would come out of her mouth.
“Fuck,” he said, dragging his hand through his hair before he unzipped his pants. She caught a glimpse of his soft, snowy white boxer briefs before he threaded his hand through her hair and pulled her lips to his. Her pussy opened up as she instinctively spread her legs wider for him as he kissed her. She stopped breathing as he unearthed his cock.
Her body trembled so violently that she felt alight with fever. She knew she should be remembering something, but nothing seemed to matter except him.
And then he dropped his hands from her and stood back. Before her next breath, he had already zipped himself up.
Her hand flew to her mouth, to the leather of the belt, gagging her. Why did he do that? Her eyes followed him as he poured himself a glass of something, whiskey, or scotch, and downed the whole thing. But then she immediately looked away when their gazes connected.
She needed a lifetime to understand what had happened.
She quivered when he closed the distance between them.
“Take a deep breath,” he said softly and gruffly. She obeyed at once before her eyes started to widen. He released one clamp with careful tenderness, but that didn’t stop her from whimpering uncontrollably.
A flood of dizzying sensations, like a torrential downpour of pain and bliss all rolled into one, threatened to knock her off the planet, but then he took her nipple between his lips, his mouth slowly bringing them back to normal as he stroked her with an endless stream of licks.
He removed the other clamp, and she quaked, pressing her thighs together harder and feeling only an emptiness she couldn’t explain as he used his mouth on her again.
A sudden exhaustion worked itself into her bones, and she sagged against him.
She didn’t even blink when he scooped her up and cradled her in his arms as he carried her up the stairs and to his bedroom.
She knew she should care that she was naked. She knew she should care that Alice or someone else would find her dress on the floor the next morning with the nipple clamps on the table. But she couldn't sum up the energy.
He laid them both down on his bed, her on her side, with her back to his chest. He pulled her closer, his large hand spreading over her belly and under her breasts. His nose was in her hair. His cock, concrete hard and still tremendously thick, was buried against her.
But his leather belt stayed in place across her mouth.
She tried to make sense of it all. Why did he stop her from saying that one word? Why did he stop himself from taking her when she had opened her legs wider for him and was already dripping wet for him?
“If it’s not in the original contract, it doesn’t exist. Now go to sleep,” he said, his voice evoking a fresh flood of delicious pandemonium all across her skin.
Was that why he did it? Because a contract was a contract, like he always said, and her little addendum on a slip of paper was simply not one?
Her outrage was muffled but heartfelt, telling him he could have told her that before she tried to get him to seduce her, and he could go and eat a bag of overly sour lemons, and she hoped his face stayed pulled up and puckered forever. She added that he was an arrogant ass too. Of course, everything she said was a muffled mess.
“Do you want me to remove my belt?” he asked her, seemingly at the end of his patience.
She stilled immediately, then shook her head.
She wasn’t ready, and she wasn’t stupid either. She just needed to get over tonight, and tomorrow she would wake up with a clean slate and a brand-new, much-improved rendition of IMT.
She fell asleep that way, in his arms, his scent all over her naked body, her lips secured from uttering one single word whose power her body still seemed to remember it could bring.
Chapter Seventeen
Sunlight dancing on Kensley’s face roused her from a deep, and she hated to admit it, satisfying sleep. She stretched luxuriously and smiled happily—all for five seconds.
