Jules
I’m in a daze, slow to realize that he’s removing his tie with purpose as a commanding edge drives his movements.
“Put your hands behind your back.”
“What?” I blink rapidly.
Instead of responding to my stupefied tone, he grips me by the arms. Before I know it, I’m on my feet, and he’s got me turned around, hands at the small of my back as he winds his tie around my wrists. After he finishes binding my hands, he whirls me once more and pushes me against the wall.
I gasp as he drops to his knees. A shiver follows the wake of his warm fingers, tingling along my skin as he slides my sleep shorts down my legs. I step out of the last of my clothing.
Cash wedges a hand between my thighs. “Spread your legs.”
I obey, and he grips me by the thighs, thumbs achingly close to my pussy as he spreads me open to his gaze. He’s got me right where he wants me.
Unable to touch him.
Unable to fight him even if I wanted to.
“You’ve got a gorgeous pussy. I could eat you out all day.” He tilts forward and darts his tongue over my clit, falling into a rhythm that’s tortuous and slow and hot. I’m shaking inside the firm grip of his hands, trapped by his deft tongue and the weakness in my knees.
“Oh God. Don’t stop.”
This is a bit surreal. Even after all the time we spent in bed together, I’m still having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that my boss is on his knees eating me out in the living room of my apartment.
He moans, sending a vibrating buzz against my sensitive flesh as he reaches up and pinches my nipples. It’s not long before I’m close, straddling the edge so precariously that I can’t suck a full breath into my lungs. Our gazes crash together. He holds me hostage with his sexy-as-sin bedroom eyes as he circles my clit with his tongue. It’s the most erotic sight I’ve ever seen, watching him pleasure me with his mouth.
But it’s not enough. It’s just enough to frustrate me, and I think he knows it.
“Please,” I whisper, thrusting my pelvis against his lips.
“How badly do you want to come?”
I let out a frustrated whimper, because every time I’m about to tip over the edge, he changes the method to his madness. The pressure building inside me is too much, flaring between my legs with tingling heat, and I squirm.
“Please,” I beg again, hungering for his mouth.
“Is this what you want?” He lets go of my nipple and slides two fingers inside me, and I pant, hips straining.
“I need more. Please.”
Instead of kissing me where I’m desperate for him, those lips curve into a triumphant smile as he fucks me with his fingers. He drags another moan from my throat.
“Cash, I’m begging.”
“Good. That’s exactly what I want.”
“Please.”
He strokes me with a feathering touch that drives me insane in the best way, and I start to climb again, trembling under his touch.
“Don’t stop.”
Pushing to his feet, he grips me by the throat, and his hand is a firm caress that’s just strong enough to get his point across—that I’m trapped by his will and nothing more. “Don’t come.”
“Are you punishing me?”
“Punish is a strong word, Jules.”
“What do you call it then?”
“A reminder that I’m the only man you should be kissing.”
“It was a mistake. It didn’t mean anything.”
“What I saw meant something.”
I swallow under his grip, lightheaded, breathless, and too hot. Everything from the waist down is on fire and begging for release. “Please. I’m so close. Don’t torture me.”
“A little delayed gratification never hurt anyone.”
“Why are you doing this to me?”
He frames my face between his hands. “Because I can.” Then his mouth is on mine, tongue pushing between my lips, and the way he moans in the back of his throat shoots a tingle through my system. His kiss is harsh and demanding and hungry.
“Let me touch you,” I beg once we come up for air.
Holding me at the nape, he reaches for my bound hands and expertly works at the knots. Breath a heated blast against my skin, he stokes the inferno in my veins by dropping kisses down the slope of my shoulder.
“Cash,” I whisper with a shudder as he frees me from the binds. I plunge my fingers into his hair. “Please.”
“Say it again,” he whispers against my ear.
“Please.”
“No, say my name.”
“Cash.”
“Jesus,” he groans. “The way you say my name makes me harder than hell. The things I’m dying to do to you.” Using the perfect amount of pressure, he rubs my clit with purpose until an orgasm almost busts me wide open. But something holds me back.
Don’t come.
I don’t know why I’m not taking what I so desperately want. Maybe it’s the command in his words, or the desperate way he said them.
Like he needs me to pass this test.
“Tell me when to stop,” he demands, holding me in the storm of his gaze.
“I don’t want you to stop.” His fingers are slipping in and out at just the right pace, and I wonder how I’m going to find the strength to hold back.
“Are you getting close?”
“Yes.” My breath is a hot blast across his tempting lips, and I squeeze my eyes shut, concentrating on not going over the edge.
“Does your orgasm belong to me?”
“Only you.” It’s what he wants to hear, and it’s the absolute truth, because he’s mastering me with every stroke of his fingers. Desperate to block out the steady rhythm of his thumb against my clit, I squirm, but the pressure reaches zenith. “Stop!” I gasp. “Can’t hold back.”
“Fuck, Jules. Look at these flushed cheeks.” He cradles them between his hands and kisses me deep, infusing everything he’s feeling into the licks of his tongue against mine. We kiss for a lifetime.
We don’t kiss long enough.
Leaving me dizzy and disoriented, he steps back and zips up his pants, all the while pinning me to the wall with the liquid fire of his stare. “You don’t know how bad I want you right now.”
“Why are you holding back?”
“I need you to be as sure about us as I am.”
“I am sure.”
He rakes a hand through hair left disheveled from my fingers, and there’s no mistaking the indecision in his expression. “Soon, Jules.”
My heart thumps an uneven beat. “What do you mean by soon?”
“When there’s nothing standing between us,” he says, buckling his belt, “that’s when nothing will ever hold me back from you again.”
He kisses me on the cheek, and I can’t speak as he slips through the front door, closing it quietly upon his exit. But my frustration is loud in my ears, screaming my disagreement. I can’t imagine dealing with this relentless throb between the legs until tomorrow, but there’s no getting around it.
He’s got me exactly where he wants me.