Chapter 40 – Pleasing the Boss

And yet I’m still unbearably turned on.

“I can see those wheels turning, Brystin. See those doubts in your pretty blue eyes. I can promise this is just for me. It probably won’t lessen your concerns since you don’t trust me. But I can tell you that it very much heightens my enjoyment to know how agonizing this must be for you. And before you think of backing out…I should point out that you still haven’t signed a contract.”

I remember now that I hate him.

Remember that he’s as brutal as he is beautiful.

The realization should kill every bit of lust within me, but it doesn’t.

What kind of person am I to want this? What kind of person am I to feel so turned on that my hand settles between my legs without my mind making the decision to do so?

“Just like that,” Hadrian coaxes, and once again, his encouragement is fuel to my desire. “Show me what you’re willing to do for this job. Show me what you’re willing to give up.”

My reputation.

My sanity.

My pride.

Still, my manicured finger swipes over my swollen clit without reservation, and it takes all my effort not to increase the pressure and give myself more.

“You’re holding back,” he says, because of course he does. “I want to see you let go.”

I increase the speed, hoping that will convince him I’m giving him what he’s asked for.

It doesn’t. “Not good enough. Is that really how you want to be touched, Brystin? Show me how you want me to touch you.”

The image that sparks brings me so close to coming, I have to still my hand for a second and stifle a moan.

“So that’s the trick.” He rubs his free hand up and down over his erection again. “You want me to touch you.”

I can’t help it—this time the moan escapes my lips.

His grin widens, and the big bad wolf comes out. “I can’t touch you until you show me how, Brystin. You want me to casually rub your clit like that and nothing else?”

“No.” The word rushes out as if he’s yanked it with a chain.

“You’d want my fingers inside you too, wouldn’t you, little vixen?”

“Please?” My voice is meek and breathy.

“Show me.”

Without hesitation, I sit up straighter and bring my other hand around to push a finger into my dripping hole. Slowly, I pull it out and push in again.

“Fuck, you’re so wet.” He moves closer, aiming the phone at my pussy. “Another finger.”

I add a second, increasing the pressure on my clit with my other hand. My eyes are pinned on the way he moves his own hand over his cock. I can practically see the ridges through the material of his pants because he’s so hard. It can’t be comfortable. And, God, I want to see him. Want to touch him as much as I want him to touch me.

“Three fingers,” he demands, as though he knows I’m close.

“I want to see you first.”

He chuckles. “You aren’t in a position to negotiate right now, Ms. Shaw.”

“I’m not negotiating. I’m telling you what I want, and I’m pretty sure you want it too.”

He hisses out a curse I can’t quite hear. But he lowers the phone and begins undoing his belt. “Three fingers, Brystin. My fingers are thick and long, and I’m rough when I fuck. Even with my hand. Show me you’ll be able to take it.”

I add another finger, and instantly, I come. Probably from his words more than anything. My hands freeze, my vision dances with flashes of light, and my back arches as I let out a stuttering cry.

“Jesus, you’re beautiful when you come.” He still hasn’t finished undoing his pants, but he crosses to me in three long strides, pointing the phone at my face as he does.

When he’s right in front of me, he unzips his pants and pulls his briefs down just far enough to let his erection out, then he pulls my moisture-coated fingers from my cunt and places them around his cock.

His very hard, very thick cock.

Um, damn.

“Like what you feel?”

To be truthful, I’m scared of what I feel at the moment, but I’m pretty sure those aren’t the kind of feelings he’s talking about.

“Yes,” I gasp. Actually, though, I’m scared of what I feel in my hand as well. I had not realized exactly how hard and how thick he is. Almost too big. It’s a terrifying cock, and I’m torn between feeling relieved that intercourse isn’t part of the deal and frustrated that I’ll never get to feel it moving inside of me.

But then I’m distracted from that thought when he replaces the fingers I’d had inside of me with his own, pointing the phone down to capture the erotic scene. “This is how I’d fuck you, Brystin. With my cock. Can you imagine it?”

My body shivers with the thought as his three long fingers reach a depth that my own were incapable of reaching. He isn’t slow with his strokes the way I was, either. He’s fast and rough, and I’m already starting to feel another orgasm approaching.

If it were his cock instead…

I pump the length of him, matching his speed, imagining it was inside of me instead of his hand. “Oh God, oh God.”

“You feel like heaven too,” he whispers. “Velvety and drenched.”

I almost change my mind right there and beg for him to fuck me. For real. Beg for him to impale me with the weapon in my hand.

I manage to keep the plea inside, but just barely. Even unsaid, the thought occurred. A wish planted like a little seed in fertile ground, and I have a terrible feeling it’s bound to grow.

I don’t have the bandwidth to hold the realization. I’m light-headed from the approaching climax, madly pumping him with the furious tempo he’s set, and still massaging my clit. All that while trying to keep myself in an upright position.

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