Chapter Twenty-Seven - Cindy
My fingers fumble with nervousness. I suddenly am shaking, unable to control my body’s reactions to everything that has happened over the past several weeks.
“Cindy,” Pax says, his hands taking over for the task I am seemingly unable to complete. His belt opens, the buckle jingling as he guides my fingertips to the button on his jeans. I manage that, the rapid beating of my heart still making me uneasy, and then drag the zipper down.
Pax is eager and ready for me, pulling his hard dick from his boxer briefs and pumping himself a few times before once again guiding my hand to where it should automatically be.
I gaze up at him, expecting him to ask questions. But his eyes are half-mast and filled with desire. “You really are beautiful,” I say. The part of me in the moment is unable to deny what I feel when I look at his face or his body. “I really do love you.”
“I really do love you back. I don’t care what Oliver says about this. It’s real. And it’s ours, not his. He has no say in anything.” His smile resets the uneven beating of my heart, and just as suddenly as it came, my anxiety passes. The thumpety-thump is normalized to just plain old thump-thump. “I wanna be with you. Not just today, but forever. I wanna wake up every morning thinking about the moment we will fall asleep together that night. I want to drink mint juleps with you, and margaritas, and start a new life that has nothing to do with the past. I want all of that. But right now I just wanna watch you, Cindy. Suck my cock, take it down your throat, swallow me. And then I’m gonna fuck you until you scream.”
I am nothing but heat. My whole body floods with warmth. My pussy is wet and throbbing for him. Ready to forget, if just for a moment, what’s really happening here.
I deserve this moment. I really do.
So I grab his biceps and sit up. I place both palms flat on his chest and push, just slightly. Just enough to make him take one step back and give me room to sink to my knees between him and the desk.
When I look up I’m the one who’s smiling now. “Are you ready to pick up where we left off?”
“So fucking ready.”
I open my mouth. He lets out a long breath of anticipation and slowly pumps his thick cock up and down as my tongue reaches for his tip. I lick. Once. Twice. My eyes trained on his as they close. His hands are on my head, fingertips tracing down my long braids as I take the head of his cock in my mouth and suck. He fists my braids, opens his lust-filled eyes for a moment, then slowly urges me to take him deeper.
I open as wide as I can, taking him the way he wants. Letting him fill me up until I can’t take any more and begin to gag.
“Breathe,” Pax says, encouraging me.
I do. I breathe through it, placing my hands flat on his thighs so I can push him away if it gets to be too much. But just as I do that, he lets got of my head and places his hands on top of mine, slowly moving his hips back and forth as he guides my fingers to his balls.
If I didn’t have his cock in my mouth, I’d smile. Instead, I chuckle, the vibrations of my vocal cords hitting him in just the right way, because he moans and his hands resume their position on my head. Urging. More and more urging to take him in as far as I can.
Drool starts slipping past my lips, dripping down onto my right knee, and it only makes me want to try harder.
“Mmmm,” I murmur around his hot flesh.
Pax reaches down and twists my nipple, making me groan with surprise at the acute twinge of pain. I draw back out of instinct, but his hips follow me, keeping us connected. “Stop me,” he says. “Stop me if you don’t like it. But I like it.”
I look up at him and find a genuine look of concern on his face. My head moves forward, taking him deeper. One hand still fondling his balls as the other slides his pants down farther so I can play with his asshole.
“Fuck,” he says, throwing his head back. “Fuck. Cindy—”
I know he likes it. I know he wants more. I know he wants it to be dirty, and sweaty, and sticky.
I want that too. So I pull back, then thrust forward. I let the tip of his dick bump up against the back of my throat. I welcome the gag reflex. I welcome the drool spilling out of my mouth. I do it again, and again, and again until he is gripping my head too tight, so my scalp begins to tingle.
The last thrust forward ends with me pulling all the way back until his long, hard cock falls out of my mouth.
Pax opens his eyes, but I hold up one finger and say, “Just be patient.”
And then I get underneath him. His huge balls dangle in front of my face and my tongue flicks out, reaching for them. Flicking against them until my hand grabs hold and I open my mouth wider and suck them.
“I’m gonna come,” he says. “I’m gonna come down your throat.”
And I’m gonna help him do that.
My mouth goes searching for his cock again. I take him in all at once this time. My head bobbing back and forth, the drool coating my chin, falling onto my breasts as my finger is still tracing the outline of his asshole.
He grips my hair tighter—if that’s possible—and the salty taste of semen fills my mouth, then my throat.
I swallow all of it as he thrusts his hips at my face. And when the wave of contractions slows to almost nothing, I pull back and look up to meet his gaze when I lick my lips.
“Your turn now,” he says.
A moment later he’s pulled me to standing and he’s walking me around the side of the desk where the large executive chair is waiting. He sits, holding my hand, and then points to his lap.
“I want to smack that ass, Cindy Shrike. Not because you’re bad. Just because I like it.”
“Ummm…”
“Lie across my knee, Cindy.” His eyes are still heavy from the orgasm but his voice is clear and commanding.
“You want to spank me?” I ask through a smile.
“Turn that fucking ass red.” He pauses. “You’ll enjoy it, I promise.” Then he pats his knee with one hand and encircles my waist with the other. “Right here, Sugar.”
I stumble forward, kinda turned on. Kinda turned off. Not sure what this means or why he likes it. But I bend over so my hips are centered on his lap, and let my head and legs dangle over the side of the chair.
“You’re doubting me, aren’t you?”
“I just don’t get it. But proceed, Detective. Perhaps you know something I don’t.”
He leans forward so his mouth is close enough to my ear to hear him whisper, “I know all the ways, all the things, all the secrets, Cinderella.” His hand slides my skirt up and the cool air from the AC hits my bare ass. “So don’t rush to judgment.” The light pressure of his fingertips tracing a line down the crease of my ass and into the heat between my legs makes me suck in a breath.
“Keep going?” he asks. I can practically hear him smile.
I swallow. “Yes. Keep going.”
He withdraws his hand from between my legs and I’m immediately wishing for him to do it again. But instead of going right for my most sensitive parts, his palm glides across the round curve of my cheeks, barely skimming the small opening between my thighs.
“You’re going to tease me?” I ask.
No answer from Mr. Mysterious. Just another light pass of his hand across the place where my legs meet my ass. Then another, and another. Until I’m relaxed, my eyes closed, enjoying the sensation. And I can feel his cock underneath me growing bigger, and getting thicker with each passing moment.
I hear the crack of his hand before I even realize the pain. My back bucks a little, making me wobble on his lap. “Damn, Paxton.”
“Shhh,” he says, continuing with his light touches. My ass is heating up and the kink has barely started. This time his fingertips dip just a little deeper into that space between my legs and once he even bumps up against my clit.
I bite my lip and wish for more when he doesn’t do it again.
“Do you like it?”
“You’re teasing me.”
“It’s a good tease though, right?” And just as the last word is out of his mouth, that flick of his finger on my pussy as his hand passes over my cheeks.
“Yes,” I say. Another crack echoes off the tall ceilings of the office. And then another. “Ow!”
But again, his fingertips are there on my clit. A small, barely detectible tickle that has me squirming.
“Hold still,” he says, another smack landing hard. And I’m just about to sit up and smack him back when his palm flattens out over the stinging heat radiating across my bottom. “I’m not letting you get away, Cinderella. Someone has to learn who’s in charge here.”
“Who’s in—Ow! Jesus fucking Christ, Mysterious! What the hell?”
“I told you stay put, didn’t I?”
“Paxton, you said you wanted to do this because it was—Ow!”
“Fun?” he asks. “It is fun. But when I tell you to stay put, Miss Cookie, I need to know you’ll stay put. Otherwise how do I know you’re safe?”
I turn my body just enough to look up at him. “You are punishing me?”
His fingers are tracing that pattern along my legs again. Teasing. Again. Because nothing even remotely comes close to touching my pussy this time. “I’m not punishing you. This feels too good to be punishment. I’m just showing you that you can trust me. So the next time I want you to do something that will keep you safe, you’ll do it without question.”
“That’s not fair,” I say. “You’re the one who left and didn’t send a message.”
“Which is why we’re having fun right now. And why you only have one ass cheek red instead of two.”
“You can’t threaten me, Paxton.”
“Do you want me to stop?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “Really? Because we haven’t even gotten to the good part yet.”
I squint my eyes at him. “What good part?”
“The part where you come, of course. I came, now it’s your turn.”
“But you want to smack the come out of me?”
Another crack on my ass and I’m about to jump up when he leans over and traps me there beneath his chest. “Stop resisting, Cinderella. Just give in and trust me.” He leans closer to my ear and whispers, “Do you trust me?”
I relax and drop my head. “Yes.” Because I do. I know he’s got a plan here. And I know it ends with satisfaction. So why bother fighting it?
He rubs my ass again, his touch rougher, his circles over my skin larger. And then another smack. This time I suck in air and bite my lip, but don’t buck my back in protest because he’s got his fingertips between my legs and this time the light pass over my clit lingers and he plays with it.
“Whatever Victoria told you when you were alone in here with her needs to be forgotten. Do you understand?”
I want to say, What do you mean? Or, She didn’t tell me anything. But I know what he means and she did tell me something. He’s got every right to be suspicious. She’s asking me to help her do something none of the Misters will sign off on. It will put her in danger, it will put me in danger, and it might put everyone else in danger too.
“Deal?” Pax asks after letting me think for a few moments.
“Deal,” I say.
“Good,” Pax says, urging me to get up off his lap. He helps me, and then we both get up.
“I thought you were going to—” But he’s got me bent over the desk again before I can finish.
“Oh, I have no intention of denying you anything, Miss Cookie.” He lifts my skirt once more and grabs my hips and positions me by kicking my legs open. “I’m happy to fuck you now.”
His cock finds my pussy wet and ready. He eases into me way too slowly for how turned on I am right now. I can still feel the sting of his spankings. I can still imagine the tickle sensation of him playing with my clit. And it’s throbbing right now. My lower body is staggeringly weak as I wait for him to fully enter me.
His cock is rock hard, his girth stretching me, making me open my legs wider to accommodate him. He leans forward, takes my hands, and slides them along the surface of the desk until they are above my head. He tightly grabs both wrists with one hand and then both my long braids with the other.
“Hard?” he asks. “Or soft?”
I don’t even need to think about it. “Hard,” I say.
He pulls out, almost all the way out, and then rams himself back inside me with so much force, I slide forward on the desk. I grunt, but he’s doing it again, so the grunt turns into a moan, turns into a long, whimpering song of, “Yes, yes, yes…”
Our skin-on-skin contact makes a slapping sound. His large, hard balls are slamming against my clit. One hand is fisting the skin of my hip, while the other has my braids and he’s pulling my head back, and back, and back… until he says, “Open your eyes, Cindy. And watch what you do to me.”
I do. I open them. And his face is everything I ever dreamed of when I pictured myself with Mr. Mysterious as a teenager. Pure, testosterone-filled maleness. He leans down to kiss me, biting my lip, then my tongue, and then he says, “Come.”
I wail. His hand clamps over my mouth as everything I’ve ever wanted comes to fruition. Wave after wave of spasming orgasm. His fingers are there on my clit to bring it all home and the ensuing flood of wetness can only mean one thing.
I did, in fact, squirt all over Mr. Romantic’s desk.
Pax is laughing, I’m collapsed on the desk, my legs so weak, they tremble.
But then there is a loud ruckus outside the door.
“Shit,” Pax says.
“What? What is that?”
But Pax has let go of me and he’s pulling up his pants. “Get dressed,” he says. “Quick! It’s your brother.”
Oh, fuck.
I scramble around looking for my t-shirt, then hike it over my head just as someone pounds loudly on the door.
“Pax?” Oliver yells from the other side. “What the fuck are you doing?” The doorknob jiggles as he tries to open it, but thankfully it’s locked.
I glance around as I smooth down my shirt and make sure my girls are both tucked neatly into my bra. But then I catch sight of my reflection in the glare of the window and realize there’s no way out of this.
My hair is a mess. I look as well-fucked as any cheating wife I’ve ever followed after pulling a nooner with an illicit lover.
I whirl around to find Pax just as Oliver begins crashing his body into the door, trying to break the lock. I’m reaching for Pax, desperate to smooth down his hair as he straightens his shirt, when Oliver comes crashing through.
He glares at Paxton for a moment, breathing hard, nostrils flaring, eyes as angry as I’ve ever seen them. And then he looks at me.
And every bit of that evaporates. “Cindy,” he says, calm, pulling on the end of his shirt a little, like he’s trying to compose himself.
“Oli,” I say, smiling. Hoping like hell he’s not going to start shit. “What are you doing here?”
Oliver glances at Paxton, grinds his teeth and clenches his jaw for a second. “Just looking for my best friend.” He looks back at me. “Hey, Cin, we’ve got a few things to talk about here. Why don’t you go join the other Misses in the kitchen? I hear they’re making dinner… or something.”
My mouth opens in shock. “Did you just tell me to go to the kitchen?”
“Cindy,” Pax says. I look over at him and he shakes his head. “Go. I’ll catch up with you later.”
“Yeah,” Oliver says, cracking his knuckles. “He’ll catch up later.”
I sigh, resign myself to the fact that I was just dismissed, and walk out into the hallway where all the Misters are waiting, wide eyes, mouths hanging open—I get an angry look from Mr. Romantic as he figures out we just fucked in his office—and then I spy Victoria beckoning me at the bottom of the stairs.
I don’t look back when the office door slams and I pretend not to hear the yelling that comes after. I just follow Victoria through the bustling hotel, past the restaurant, and down a long hallway where we stop in front of one of those double swinging doors you find in commercial kitchens.
“Well,” she says. “I guess that’s the end of that friendship.”
“That’s not true,” I say, immediately irritated with her. “They’re best friends. They’re gonna work it out.”
“Hmm,” Victoria says. “A best friend doesn’t usually fuck the baby sister in his other friend’s office. But whatever. They can have their little fight. All the important stuff is going on in here anyway.” And then she swings the door open and I see all the other Misses, plus my big sister Ariel, huddled around a long stainless steel table.
“Well,” Ariel says, once they all notice us. “Look who it is. The wandering princess has finally been corralled.”
“Don’t be dramatic, Ari,” I say, waving a hand at her. “But what are you doing here anyway? What’s all this stuff got to do with you?”
She grabs something off the table and holds it up in the air. It takes every ounce of self-control not to double over and get sick at the sight of what she’s holding. “What the—where did you get that?” I whisper, my hand over my heart as I stare at the shiny silver envelope.
“It came to the office in the mail, Cinderella. And it’s addressed to you.”