“There you are, Sweetness,” he murmured. “That’s as high as it goes. I knew you could do it.” I could barely respond with more than a strangled cry. His finger was pistoning into me so wetly I could hear the clasping sounds. The only thing that might feel better would be—
“Please…” I spasmed hard around him and felt tears streaking my cheeks.
“Do you want my cock in you?” he asked, his voice silky.
Yes! Fuck yes!
I couldn’t say it. Why couldn’t I say it?
He latched over my clit, and fingered me firmly, teasing out another climax as I sobbed and tossed my head. My thighs now hung limply; there was no fight left in me to move.
“I can’t…I can’t…” I groaned hoarsely. “Please…”
“Alright, then,” he said. And stopped abruptly. It was as if the world had ceased spinning on its axis and I was about to fall off the globe. Or maybe I was the one spinning. Who knew? After the screaming mayhem of mind-blowing sensations, the sudden stop was almost like a deafening silence.
He stepped away and gazed down at me, raising a hand and sucking his fingers into his mouth.
“Yes…sweet…like heaven. As I imagined.”
I couldn’t respond. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t think.
“Will you forget again tomorrow?” he asked. I shook my head feebly. Frankly, I wasn’t sure how I’d survive until tomorrow. “Good,” he said, then strolled to the oven where my roast chicken had finally reached perfection. He pulled open the door, reached for an oven mitt, and extracted the casserole dish. “Good job,” he said, and I knew he was talking about the food. I still hadn’t gathered the strength to get up off the counter. I watched as he extracted a carving knife from a nearby draw, carved off a drumstick and took a bite. Strong white teeth tore into the flesh, and I was mesmerized. Or semi-conscious. Who could tell?
He raised the drum in a semblance of a salute and strolled toward the outer edge of the kitchen area. “Thanks for dinner,” he said. “Go get some sleep.”
And then he was out of the room and gone from sight.
Chapter 9
Sasha Ramirez
Ileaned back in my chair and nodded absentmindedly as Andy went on.
“So I’ve spoken to the Swiss and they’re keen,” he was saying. I kept nodding. No idea what he was talking about. All I could think of were those soft thighs spread open before me.
“Prince! Hey!” He was snapping his fingers in front of my face. “Anyone in there?”
I shook my head. “Yeah…the Swiss. Keen. Got it.”
He rolled his eyes. “Buddy, you gotta get your head straight. This is precisely what got you in shit the last time, if you remember correctly. Too obsessed with pussy to focus on business.”
“Fuck you!” I snapped. Dammit, he was right.
“Your father is waiting for you to make a wrong move, my friend. You know it as well as I do. Now get your head in the game. We’ve got work to do.”
I straightened and looked down at the spreadsheet he’d pushed across the desk in front of me. The figures swam into focus, and I read through them, then looked up at him.
“Is this accurate?” I asked, running a fingertip along the line.
“Nope,” he said. “That’s on the low end of conservative.” I raised an eyebrow. “If we hit the targets I expect, you can double that amount.”
“Jesus,” I muttered. “You’re talking…?”
“Yip. Pretty much the national budget of a small country,” he chuckled. “Fuck, you could probablybuya small country.”
I straightened up. “And we won’t need the board of Cedar Inc. backing us…” It wasn’t a question. I was seeing a path opening up. I didn’t need the others for this. Didn’t need my fucking father.
“Shall I put it in play?” Andy asked. It was a ridiculous question, and my expression must have made that clear because he was gathering his things and grinning triumphantly. “I’ll call Horst,” he said. “You do what you do best.” I gave a curt nod. I was already itching to get back to my workstation.
