Chapter Nine
Poppy
I wake up, and the first thing I feel is Nathaniel’s warm, big body next to mine. We’re in his penthouse, again, and my body still aches from the things he did to me last night. We’re two weeks into our arrangement, and I’m starting to think he’s addictive. When we’re working, we’re professional. Just a boss and his intern. Yeah, there’s this smoldering undercurrent happening, but that’s only because we both know that the second we’re alone, we’re going to be fucking like hormonal bunnies.
And we have. He’s had me in every room of the gallery, including his office. Multiple times. We’ve also done the deed in every room of his lavish penthouse, and once, in my apartment when he came home with me so I could grab a few changes of clothes. He’s just as dominant as he was that first night, and every time, I’m shocked by how much that turns me on. Being a former virgin, I’ve never seen the allure of being controlled and used the way he uses me. But the thing is… the thing I didn’t understand before, is that there’s an element of protectiveness there, too. He pushes me to my limits, and I trust him not to cross those limits. He takes care of me. He brings me ridiculous amounts of pleasure.
He’s ruined me, I think with a smile as I look over at him.
Damn, this man.
He’s on his back, the sheet covering his naked body up to his waist. His dark hair is tousled, both from sleep and from the way I tangled my fingers in it last night as he went down on me. There’s a dark shadow of stubble over his jaw. His body, which I know almost as well as I know my own, is just as gorgeous as I suspected it would be—all lean, taut muscle. He’s got a little bit of dark hair on his chest, and I know now that the feeling of that hair rubbing against my breasts, while he’s inside of me, is one of the most erotic things I’ve ever felt.
I let my gaze wander down his body. A trail of hair leads from his navel and disappears beneath the sheet…
I grin to myself. Morning wood should never, ever, go to waste.
It’s Saturday, and we don’t have to work today. I have all the time in the world. I’ve wanted to taste him since that first night, but when we’re together, he hasn’t even suggested that I suck him off.
So, I gently pull the sheet back and position myself between his thighs. I glance up at his face. He’s still asleep.
I stick out my tongue and gently lick my way up his long cock. Within seconds, his eyes flutter open, and he stares at me.
I lick him again, and he groans. “Poppy.”
I take his hardening member into my mouth and moan at both the taste and feel of him in my mouth.
“Darling, are you sure?” he asks, his voice a low growl.
In response, I start moving my head, bobbing up and down as I suck him off, my tongue sweeping over the head of his dick as I pull back, then pull him deeper into my throat.
“Fuck,” he groans, then his hands are tangled in my hair, and I’m sucking him faster, harder, my hand cradling his balls. “You’re so good at this,” he murmurs, and it ends on a moan as I pull him deeper still into my throat. I can tell that’s the moment he loses control. His hips thrust up as I take him in, and he’s so deep in my throat that I’m practically gagging on him. His hands are in my hair, guiding me, holding me close to him.
“Good girl,” he growls as I suck him. “I’m so close, Poppy. You need to stop unless you want me to come in your mouth.”
In response, I moan and keep going, my head bobbing faster as his cock grows even larger. Because all I want, right this second, is for him to come, to taste him the way he’s tasted me, and to hear him when he goes over the edge.
“Poppy,” he cries out as I feel the first spurt of come hit the back of my throat. I keep sucking greedily, and he holds my head down, his cock deep in my throat until he’s spent. I finish him off, sucking until he’s barely hard anymore, and I release his cock, then kiss the tip gently.
I look up at Nathaniel, and he’s got this lazy, sexy smile that makes me even wetter than I already am.
“Come here,” he says, and I crawl up his body until I’m straddling his hips. He pulls me down for a long, deep, toe-tingling kiss, and then his hands find my already aching breasts and his fingers are tweaking my nipples. He knows, by now, how much I love those little bits of pain; how hot they make me.
He kisses me again and then pulls me up more. He takes one nipple into his mouth and starts licking, sucking, biting until I’m out of my mind with need. He releases my nipple with a loud pop and looks up at me.
“I bought you something,” he says. He picks me up and lays me on my back, then opens the nightstand drawer. He holds something up, and I recognize it after a moment. My jaw drops and I clench my thighs together.
“I had a feeling you might like these,” he says, and he inspects the nipple clamps in his hand. They’re cute, with little jewels dangling from them. “Do you want them on?”
“Please,” I manage, and then he goes to work. The instant the first one closes over my already sensitive nipple, I’m already on the verge of coming. I moan, and he smiles and puts the other clamp on.
The constant ache of my nipples only makes me wetter, needier, and I look at Nathaniel helplessly. He seems content to watch me.
“You like those, huh?” he asks in a low voice, and I nod. If I don’t come soon, I’m going to lose my mind. I lower my hand between my legs and start rubbing myself. Nathaniel’s eyes lock on to my hand, and now there’s this dark, hungry look in his eyes that I know well. It’s the one he gets right before he’s about to fuck me so hard I can barely walk. He crawls to the bottom of the mattress, still watching me.
“Spread your legs, baby. I want to see you,” he says, and I obey. Obeying him is second nature to me now, and the fact that he’s just told me what to do has me even wetter.
Now what had been me trying to relieve myself is a show for his pleasure, and I imagine what he sees now: me, wearing my little nipple clamps, thighs spread, fingers circling my clit.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he growls, not taking his eyes off me. “Look how wet you are. All this from sucking my cock and having your nipples clamped. You’re perfect,” he adds, and I’m so close. He’s hard now, and as I watch, he takes his dick in his hand and gives it a long, hard stroke.
“Come for me now, Poppy,” he says, and my body responds to the command in his tone immediately. I come hard, my hips bucking against my hand, and I hear him groan. When I open my eyes again, I see him rolling a condom onto himself. He pulls my hand away from my pussy and presses both of my hands into the mattress over my head, and then he enters me in one fast, hard trust, and I scream. I’m so tender from the night before and my recent orgasm, and he seems like he’s out of his mind with lust, fucking me so hard, so deep that I feel like I’m about to split in two.
“Did you like touching yourself for me?” he asks roughly as he thrusts into me. He stays there, deep in me, still waiting for my answer.
“Yes, Nathaniel,” I moan, writhing beneath him. He pulls back and slams into me again.
“And you liked sucking my dick?”
“Yes.”
“You’re very, very good at it,” he says as he slams into me again, so hard he lifts my hips off the mattress. I scream, coming so hard I see stars, and then he’s taking me fast, hard, and another orgasm builds under the intensity of the way he’s fucking me. I can tell he’s close, his breathing ragged, his motions becoming jerky and rough. He reaches between us and gently pinches my clit as he slams into me again, and I fall apart, screaming his name. My orgasm spurs his release, and he shouts—a stream of filthy curses that I would not have suspected him using before I started sharing his bed.
When Nathaniel is spent, he collapses on top of me for a moment, crushing me into the mattress. Both of our bodies wear a sheen of perspiration, and we’re both breathing like we just ran a marathon.
He presses a kiss to the side of my neck and gets up to get rid of the condom. Then he’s back, lying beside me.
“I think you’ll like this part, too,” he murmurs. I hold my breath as he removes the first nipple clamp. The surge of pain as it releases is almost overwhelming, and then his mouth is closing over my aching nipple, soothing it, gently sucking it until the pain subsides. He does the same thing with my other nipple, then settles next to me, his eyes searching mine.
“Okay?” he murmurs.
I nod. “Better than okay.”
He smiles and pulls me into his arms. We’ll doze for a while and hopefully spend this weekend mostly naked. Monday, we’ll have to get ready for work again, and then I’ll have to spend all day pretending that I didn’t spend the morning masturbating for him and that my pussy doesn’t ache from the hard, deep thrusts he tortured me with.
His eyes are closed again, and I replay our lovemaking as I look at him. I knew it after that first night, but I know it even more now: he’s ruined me for anyone else. No one will ever make me feel the way Nathaniel does. No one will ever be so intuitive about my needs and where that erotic line between pleasure and pain lies for me. He pays attention. His attention to detail is what makes his gallery one of the best in the city, and it’s also what makes him a phenomenal lover.
I’m trying to learn from him. Based on how he responds to me, I have the feeling I’m doing a good job.
He opens his eyes and pats my ass. “I wish I could spend all day in bed with you, but I have a meeting at the gallery in a while. Vanessa Duchamp wants to look at the exhibit before it opens tonight.”
I give him a little faux-pout, and he smiles.
“I’ll be counting down the minutes until I have you naked again,” he tells me, and my pout turns to a smile.
“Me too.”
He gets out of bed, and a moment later, I hear the shower turn on. Showering with Nathaniel is my favorite way to shower, but I leave him alone to get ready. Tonight, maybe we’ll shower together.
I stretch out in his king-size bed, my head resting on the fluffiest pillow I’ve ever slept on, the cool white sheets caressing my body. I close my eyes and listen to the shower, then to Nathaniel moving around in the bathroom as he shaves and brushes his teeth.
When he comes back into the bedroom, I watch him get dressed, and when it’s time to put his tie on, I kneel on the edge of the bed and tie it for him. He rests his hand on my naked hips and watches me as I tie and straighten the knot.
“Make yourself at home. Relax,” he says. “The kitchen is fully stocked, and the pool and Jacuzzi are both at your disposal.”
I smile and run my fingers down his tie. “I might end up watching reality TV on the big screen in your living room,” I tease, knowing his opinion of those shows.
He grimaces, and I laugh.
“Will you at least be watching them naked?”
I shrug. “You’ll just have to wonder, maybe.”
He gives my ass a not-so-gentle slap, and I bite my lip. He’s mock-threatened to spank me a few times, and the idea of him tossing me over his lap and doing that to me turns me on.
“Maybe I’ll reprogram all of your favorites, so they show reality TV networks,” I say.
“You must want me to spank you,” he murmurs.
I smile up at him. “All talk and no action, Mr. Stone.”
He groans and squeezes my ass. “Teasing is definitely punishable by spanking.” I wiggle my ass beneath his hand, and he gives a snort of a laugh.
“When I get back,” he says. “I’m pretty sure you have a good spanking coming your way.” He cups my breasts, and I moan. “These might have a few smacks coming, too.” He lowers his mouth to one nipple, tugging it gently into his mouth, and then does the same with the other. He stands up straight and meets my eyes. “Rest up today. You’re going to need your energy later.” And then he kisses me, leaving me breathless and needy, and then gives me one more sexy smile before he walks out the door.
I shake my head and pull on one of Nathaniel’s button-down shirts, then make my way to the kitchen to find something for lunch. I’m absolutely starving, and if Nathaniel is to be believed (which I know he is) I’m going to need my energy later.
His penthouse is enormous, full of light from the big windows that look out over the city. Wood floors gleam, and the furniture is modern and expensive. A Jacuzzi is in one corner of the living room, near the windows. I blush as I remember the way he took me there, fucking me from behind as I braced my hands on the glass, telling me that anyone who happened to look this way would be able to see me, watch me being taken by him.
I shake my head and continue looking through the fridge. I end up settling on a plate of fruit and cheese, and I eat while looking around. It’s all very Nathaniel. Larger than life, refined, but with an undercurrent of wildness that very few get to see. The modern furniture and expensive art lives side by side with an almost ridiculous collection of swords and knives, which are displayed on one wall. The neat bedroom hides a whole lot of naughtiness, from the nipple clamps he used on me that morning to a collection of ropes and other sex toys I haven’t been brave enough to try yet.
I’m getting up to put my plate in the dishwasher when I hear the door open, and then, to my shock, a child’s laugh echoing down the marble-floored hallway from the foyer. I look down at myself, wearing only Nathaniel’s shirt, and start to make a mad dash for the bedroom.
I reach the living room when I realize it’s too late. A little boy and an older woman are standing there, looking at me. He’s maybe five years old, with dark hair and… hazel eyes.
“Hello,” I say, tugging at the bottom hem of the shirt. I’m glad Nathaniel is so much taller than I am.
“Hi,” the boy says. I glance at the woman.
“I’m terribly sorry, but I have a family emergency. Please pass my apologies along to Mr. Stone. I’ll see you soon, Micah,” she says, and then she’s gone, and it’s just the kid—Micah—and I left standing there.
“Um…” I begin.
“Do you know my dad?” he asks, and my heart sinks.
What the fuck is this? Nathaniel has a son? Does he have a wife tucked somewhere after all? Was all of this just a torrid affair?
Fuck. Am I the other woman?
I look at Micah, who’s studying me with big eyes that remind me far too much of his father’s. He seems unsure of me, and I can’t blame him.
I’ve been there.
Seven years old, walking into my dad’s office at his old job, surprising him with the muffins I’d made. I’d opened the door, and the first thing I’d seen was his secretary, Marlene, bent over his desk, my dad standing behind her, thrusting and grunting. Their focus hadn’t been on me, or the door, and I’d left before either of them realized I was there.
My mom had been waiting in the car for me.
I didn’t tell her. Didn’t even know what I’d seen, really, except to know that it was wrong. I’d never looked at my dad the same way again, and, a few years later, Mom had passed. I’ve never forgiven him.
I blink, forcing myself back to the present. This changes everything. I can’t continue our arrangement. I won’t fuck Nathaniel if there’s an innocent child in the mix who could be hurt by what we’re doing together.
A wife. He probably has a wife somewhere. Or a girlfriend. So not only am I being paid to sleep with him, whether he wanted to admit it or not, but I’m also probably a home wrecker.
I hate myself more than a little when the realization hits me.
“Where’s my dad?” Micah asks shyly.
“He’s at work. I’m going to go get dressed, and then I’ll take you to him. Okay?”
Micah nods. “Okay.”
“Are you hungry?” I ask. I don’t know why. It just seems like the sort of thing you should ask a kid. Something normal, other than “Sorry I’m screwing your daddy.”
He shakes his head.
“Okay. I’ll be right back.” I head into the bedroom and close the door, then rest my head on it as I try to get myself under control. I want to cry. I want to punch Nathaniel Stone in his stupid perfect face.
Most of all, I want to pretend none of this ever happened.