CHAPTER ONE
Niall
“Please,” she moaned into the crimson sheets.
Please what? I thought of asking, but that question was too expected, too overused. Instead, I said nothing, allowing her to writhe and wiggle beneath my grip. Allowing her to wonder whether she pleased or disappointed me.
With her wrists locked together above her head, she couldn’t have broken away if she tried. Not that she would likely try. She was honored, after all. Lucky to have been chosen by me.
I moved the tips of my fingers away from her pulsing clit and slipped one, then two in between her glistening folds. She groaned as a third finger slipped inside, filling her completely.
“No more talking,” I commanded. “Not a word. Not even please.” I reached over towards the bedside table, meaning to grab the handcuffs there. First, I would fasten her bound hands to the bed’s headboard, nice and tight, giving her no room to move freely. Then I would make her wait, prolonging the anticipation. I’d watch her quiver while she wondered just what I would do to her, if my next touch would be gentle or rough.
I took her nipple between my teeth — rough it is — and bit down, relishing her cries, the moans, the arching of her body silently asking me to do it again. And I would, of course, appreciating the contrast of my marks against the paleness of her flesh.
When I was ready, I would feed her my cock, watching it disappear between her perfectly formed lips. Listen to her gag as I hit the back of her throat and…
“That’s entirely up to Mr. Lambert,” a gravelly male voice said.
I jerked in my seat, the faceless woman disappearing from underneath me like a mirage... which she was.
The analogy was spot on. There I was, dying of thirst — or boredom, they’re interchangeable — in the middle of the desert — or skyscraper boardroom — and the man across from me had the audacity to mention my name yet again.
The meeting should have been over half an hour ago. That mahogany and black leather furnished room should have been empty, shut down for the weekend. I should have been out the door, in a car, on my way to...
Where?
The club, I supposed. It would likely be full of typical money hungry women eager to spread their legs for a little attention. Not exactly what I wanted, but at least the place would provide an opportunity to blow off some steam.
“Mr. Lambert? Sir?”
There it was again. My name. At least the lawyer had been thoughtful enough to throw the “sir” in there.
I sucked in a sharp breath and sat up straighter, letting my heavy exhale show the table of over half a dozen men just how disappointed I was with them.
“I say,” I slowly said, steepling my fingers together, “that we’ve accomplished everything we need to. The patent is in order. Multiple governments around the globe are clamoring to be the first to purchase my wondrous device, blah, blah, blah. We’re done here.”
Greg Daniels, my square-jawed advisor, and unofficial bodyguard twitched a bit in his seat. Having been at Lambert Technologies since the day it opened, he knew me better than anyone in the room. Not that that was saying much. If anyone in the world claimed they truly knew me, they were flat out lying. The ex-Navy Seal turned computer wizard just knew when my lid was about to blow. Maybe his days in the military lent to his ability to read people well. Or perhaps it was his soaring IQ or the delicious paycheck he received each month. I didn’t really care. He knew his shit. He helped me make decisions, and he carried, but without the conspicuous air of a hired guard.
Greg loudly clapped his hands together. “Then let’s stop talking, shall we, and start celebrating. Gentlemen, a reservation is held for us at Kristopher’s, and we have two cars waiting downstairs to take us there.”
He glanced at me, looking for my approval. Inwardly, I cursed. I’d forgotten all about the reservation. With thoughts of writhing women and my favorite club Secret Door on my mind, I’d completely blanked on the celebration plans already put in place.
I pursed my lips, not caring whether or not anyone took my irritation as a personal insult. Perhaps if they did, then they would learn a lesson about speeding things up in future meetings. The bomb seeking and dismantling robot my company had been developing for years was one of the most incredible inventions in recent years. That was beyond a doubt, and soon the whole world would be privy to what we in that board room were. But that didn’t mean the whole meeting needed to be a masturbatory affair. Unlike some of the portly fellows in those plush seats, I had more than enough women clamoring to take care of my pleasure for me.
With a sharp nod, I stood. The others followed, one of the assistants scurrying forward to open the glass door for me.
My entire body jumped with electricity, the desire for flesh locked inside of me. Soon, I reminded myself, soon. First, I had to go through the evening’s motions, finish the show. After that, I would get everything I craved.
Because I always did.