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She clenches her cheeks, then softens them as if offering them to me. My cock grows hard at the sight of her, at the sound of her quickening breath. I slip my fingers into the waistband of her panties and tug them up.
She gasps, rising on tiptoe as the string digs into her folds. “What the fuck?”
I lean over her, slide one hand between her torso and the piano, and cup her breast, pinching her nipple.
She yelps.
“What I want, little monster, is for you to be safe.”
She turns her head, wincing as I tug her panties higher. “Can I ask you a question, Judge?”
“Of course, Mercedes.”
“How do you picture me when you’re jerking off at night? Am I on my knees at your feet? Worshipping the great Judge Lawson Montgomery’s big dick? Or am I bent over taking it from behind? What’s your preferred scenario?”
I pull her up straight and turn her to face me but keep a tight grip on her panties. She braces her hands on my shoulders for balance. “Thank you for asking. I enjoy both. How about you? I hear you, you know? I hear you moan when you make yourself come at night.”
She blushes wildly and shoves against me. “I don’t!”
“No need to be embarrassed, little monster. It’s perfectly natural.” I release her abruptly, and she stumbles sideways, posture twisting as she tries to muster some dignity without actually reaching under her dress to pull the string out of her pussy. “And I like listening to you come. I like it very much.”
“You’re such a jerk!” She spins to walk away, but I grab her arm again. I need to address something.
“Paolo said he saw you near one of the outbuildings on the property. You’re fine to wander, but I don’t want you going into those buildings.”
“Why? What are you hiding?”
“I’m not hiding anything. It’s not safe. You keep out, Mercedes. Do you understand?”
“Fine. Let me go.”
“One more thing.”
“What?”
“You and I will be attending a party at IVI on Saturday night.”
“What party?”
“A dinner.”
“Why?”
“You need to show your face. People are talking.”
She raises her eyebrows. “Aren’t you afraid they’ll talk about you when they see me on your arm?”
I don’t answer that. “I’ll send a dress up for you.”
“Fine. Whatever.” She walks toward the exit but stops and turns back. “Did you know?”
“Know what?”
“That she’s pregnant?”
After a long moment, I nod.
She snorts, then curls her lip in disgust and stalks off. I hear her slam her bedroom door, and I don’t see her for the rest of the day. Which is a good thing because I can’t seem to be around her without touching her. And she’s right about what I want. What I imagine at night. And it needs to stop because no matter what, I cannot have her. Not the way I want. Not ever.
