“Yes, sir.”
“Good.” He chucked me under the chin and left.
* * *
I spentthe day wandering around in a vortex of lust. Chores got done, somehow, because when Cole returned, he looked around with an approving nod, and set me to dusting the giant bookshelf in his den. I actually liked handling the books—old tomes he told me he inherited from his grandfather—but Cole’s proximity mixed with my raging horniness made me super bitchy. He sat on the couch, pecking at his laptop with his briefcase open beside him, and I worked around him, grumbling.
“Less talking, more cleaning,” he said without lifting his eyes from the screen.
I ignored the order and continue to mutter about ‘sadistic spanko sheriffs with a cleaning fetish.’
Cole left and returned, snapping his fingers to order me to him. I hated when he did that, but I didn’t dare disobey.
“I have a new addition to your outfit. Open your mouth.” He held up a ball gag. A wicked glint in his eyes, he popped a bright red ball into my mouth and fastened the black straps around my head. “Why didn’t I think of this sooner?”
I glared at him. The ball in my mouth was large enough to keep my mouth in a perpetual ‘o’. Drool collected at the corner of my mouth and he wiped it away.
“Beautiful. You are so hot right now.”
My nipples hardened despite myself.
I gurgled at him.
“I can’t understand you, sweetheart. But don’t worry. If you’re good, you get a reward.” His fingers swiped at my nipples. He’d noticed I was aroused.
Bastard.
I clomped around the house in the stupid heels, moving books, and dusting and polishing surfaces carefully so as not to dirty my outfit. My only break came when he undid the gag and gave me water.
I glared as he strapped it back on and he just laughed at me and made me fetch him a beer. My face burned, but I did it, and when he snapped his fingers and pointed, I went back to cleaning his bookshelf. His eyes followed me around the room. I wasn’t trying to be sexy, but bending and stooping and reaching the different level shelves gave him plenty of opportunity to view my elongated legs, my pouty ass.
I’d never been so humiliated, so objectified.
I’d also never been so turned on in my life. The edge of my skirt lifted, showing the curve of my ass as I reached high over my head to finish dusting the top shelf. Up on tiptoes, I grunted in exertion. Cole’s hands came around to cup my breasts and I nearly fell over.
“Regina,” Cole husked into my hair, his body molded to my back. I sank into him, breathing hard. His hands roamed up and down, from breasts to navel, and lower down, to lift my skirt and cup my mons. I groaned as two fingers pushed at my thong.
“You’re wet.” His voice held awe. “This turns you on?”
I nodded and widened my stance in invitation.
“Such a good girl.”
His fingers dipped in and out of my pussy. I grunted from behind the gag, drool running down my cheeks. I was a mess, and I didn’t care. My hips jerked in silent invitation.
“Ask before you cum,” he growled as he hooked a long finger under my pubic bone, my g-spot as his target. He crooked his finger in a “cum hither” motion.
Bullseye.
I squealed. My legs shook so hard I nearly fell. My orgasm was so close…
He removed his hand, still holding me up with a strong arm under my breasts.
“Oh I forgot, you can’t talk. Well, I guess you can’t cum.”
All manner of garbled sounds escaped from behind the gag. His mouth dropped to my neck and my arousal soared. I begged him to fuck me.
“You may not cum.” His finger brushed against my clit, and I did anyway. Cole had to hold me up as I convulsed against him, moaning behind the gag.
