“I want you to tell me what to do. Tell me what you imagined.” My voice wavers, and I finger my chain again to stop trembling. “Tell me I’m enough.”
I wait for him to say no because I’m too young, his assistant, or a mum.
“You’re more than enough. You’re fucking everything. But what if I can’t be touched like that?” He stumbles over his words. “There hasn’t been anyone since the crash.”
“Control me, sir. Be the boss. Harness that power. I needthat from you. What do you want me to do?” I glance at the pre-cum beading his cock and squeeze my thighs tightly.
His eyebrows knot.
“I need this, Niki. Tell me what you want.” I lift the hem of my top. My hands tremble as I hold it just under my breasts. I won’t remove it unless he tells me to. I’m crossing the line, but the one I want to cross is bigger.
He takes a breath and locks my stare. “I want to fuck your mouth. Remove your top because I need to see all of you as I do it.”
CHAPTER 41
Niki
Every reasonable thought about why this is stupid drips like water into the shower drain.
All day, I’ve worried about my scars and meeting my parents tomorrow in Monaco. My stomach twists with worry that Rosie will meet a man tonight and he’ll reveal how undeserving I am of her.
But now, all I see is my angel, the bare skin of her stomach igniting more filthy fantasies as she waits before pulling her top off.
“Yes, sir.”
I step out of the shower and stare at her flushed lips and brown eyes. Her eyelashes flutter. She lifts her top achingly slowly. A black bra barely contains her breasts. They’d be more than a handful and would look perfect with my dick between them.
“Don’t forget our safe word. What is it?”
“Banana hammock,” she replies instantly. The words should make me laugh, but they don’t. They give me the confidence to do what I’ve fantasised.
“Good. You use it whenever you need to. This isn’t medoing what I want without thinking about you. This is about us.”
Her cheeks pinken. “Yes, sir.”
“Good girl.”
She releases a breath that’s saturated with desire, her gaze lowering.
“Eyes on me,” I demand.
She squirms against her jeans, rubbing her thighs together, her big brown eyes returning my stare.
“Are you wet?”
“Yes,” she stutters.
“Show me. Slide your fingers into your knickers.” She follows my instructions. Her chest rises and falls as she pants. I’m the luckiest fucker in the world right now. “Give them to me.”
I silently count to five as the prospect of touch attempts to cloud the moment. The fear is there—I’m not sure it will ever go—but I need this. My body aches for her.
She shows me her glistening fingers, and I grab them and slide them into my mouth. She whimpers as I suck them, relishing her.
“You taste so good. I knew you would.”
I grab towels and lay them on the floor. “Get on your knees. I need your lips around my dick.”
She kneels and looks up at me like I’m the most powerful being she’s ever met. I force down the anxiety I’ve carried all day. Right now, this exceptional woman is on her knees and wants to please me, and I can do this. I need this.
