I am so fucking furious I don’t — actually fuck don’t, can’t— say a word to Chelsea on the drive home. Jesus, I can’t even look at her. My blood is boiling in my veins and I want to punch something. Hard.

“Come to my study,” I order when we arrive at the house. She looked confused and hurt when I didn’t want to tell her about my AI and I actually felt bad, but what an idiot I was. I turn my back on her for one second and she’s accepting lunch dates with another man. Fuck her and that old fool. He thinks he can handle her. This bitch will have him wrapped around her little finger and licking her boots before long.

I walk ahead of her, deliberately keeping my stride long. Behind me, I hear the sound of her shoes as she quickens her pace to keep up with me. I open the door and hold it for her. She walks through, her eyes staring straight ahead, and turns around to face me defiantly.

I count to ten to calm my nerves. She’s so unbelievably untrustworthy. What the fuck am I even doing with her? I should kick her out of my house. She’s turning my life upside down. The longer I keep her here, the more enslaved I become to her body.

I thought overindulgence would cure me. If I overdose on her body, twice, three, four times a night, I will tire of her smell, her taste, her feel, but she is like a disease inside me. Spreading. There is an old Indian saying I should have taken heed: indulging in desire is like pouring clarified butter onto fire. It doesn’t quench the flames, it fans it.

I should tell her to go.

“You’re mine, Chelsea,” are the words that come out of my mouth. The rest comes out as a growl throbbing with aggression and jealous anger. “For the next three months I own you. You are fully paid for, which means you cannot flirt with another man. You cannot accept lunch dates. You cannot touch another man. And no man can touch you. Do you understand me?”

“It didn’t mean anything. He’s a nice guy,” she whispers.

“I don’t give a fuck whether it means anything or not. You do not talk, hell, you do not even look at another man for the next three months. Do you understand me?”

She stares at me in shock. She opens her mouth to say something, then she drops her head and nods. I am not satisfied with that response.

I take a step forward and she steps back nervously. I make another move towards her, and she counters it with a move in the opposite direction. We play this game until her butt bumps into my heavy mahogany desk.

With a slow, cold smile, I take the final step in her direction. She stares up at me, a strange expression of desire and fear frozen on her face.

My large hands land on her waist.

She draws a sharp breath, but makes no protest. I let my hands run down the shapely curve of her hips. Then I pull the skirt of her dress up until it is bunched around her hips. Wrapping my hands around her I pick her up and sit her on the desk. Roughly I spread her legs. She searches my eyes. She knows what’s going to happen to her next, but she doesn’t stop me. She just licks her lips and pretends she doesn’t want it.

My arms go under her thighs to bring her closer to the edge of the desk. How sweet, a little pink G-string is all there is between me and her pretty pussy. I tear off the scrap of lace and fling it behind me. She groans and I sense the heat and tension in the air.

“You’re wet, my darling,” I mock.

She swallows hard, but doesn’t say anything while I look at her open pussy. My cock is throbbing for her. I want to be inside her right now, but she has to be reminded of who she belongs to. She is going to enjoy everything that I do to her on this desk or I’ll be damned.

I widen her legs further and she leans back on the palms of her hands.

I lower myself onto my knees and the scent of her makes my head spin. Fuck her, and her magic spell. I bury my face between her legs. In reflex, her hand moves to grab the back of my head and push me closer to her.

I smile as I lick and suck at her wet folds. Her pussy tastes so sweet to me, and I lick the opening all the way up to her plump nub. Chelsea moans and claws the back of my head. She is completely enjoying herself and that makes me enjoy her even more.

Her legs are over my shoulders now, she is using them to steady herself as the feeling inside of her becomes more intense. She asks me what I’m doing to her, but I don’t answer. She doesn’t seem to notice since her moans have become much louder.

I suck on her clit while using my tongue to lick the very tip. The different sensations cause her to shake and her legs begin to clench my head. She is on the edge of climaxing. What I’m doing feels so good to her that her body begins to quiver uncontrollably. Clenching her teeth, she grips my head and pulls me in as if she wants to be swallowed by me.

A long high pitched moan escapes her lips.

I love the animalistic cries she is making, almost as much as I love the sound her pussy makes against my tongue. It is the delicious sound of wetness and pleasure. She is so wet for me. Eating her out makes me even more hungry for her. After this I will take her, but I need her to cum on my tongue first. I need to drink her into my system.

She is shaking so much now I hold her steady on the desk as I continue to suck and lick her. I flick my tongue against her clit, then thrust it hard inside of her, and that is when she falls backwards.

I hear her saying “Oh my God” over and over.

Chelsea’s legs tighten like a noose around me, then suddenly release as she lets out a final and very long scream of ecstasy. It just goes on and on.

It doesn’t stop me.

I lick the juice that gushes out of her while I wait for her scream to fade into gentle purrs. She has reached her climax and she’s satisfied. I’m not. The memory of her flirting with Blanchett is still fresh in my mind. I still have more I want to do to her. I give her a moment and then scoop her limp body up into my arms.

I step on her panties on the way out of my study.