“Not sure. Usually people come to me for market research and audience surveys. This is a new situation.” New, unexpected, and utterly thrilling.
He tilted his head. “Okay then. Show me how you survey an audience.”
Oooh, she loved that lazy tone of command. And if he wanted to play, she could play. She stretched to grab the Bullet Journal, a pen, and a hair elastic from her bedside table, then settled cross-legged while Tom pulled himself into a sitting position, covered only by a sheet.
“All right, Mr. Castle.” She coiled her hair into a quick bun on top of her head and adopted the crisp focus group voice that she used to command the attention of the room. “I understand you want some market research conducted. As our sample size is quite small, you’ll forgive me if I focus my questions on you.”
“I’m all yours.”
The warmth in his voice momentarily threw her out of the role. He sounded so sincere that she felt for a second as if it were actually true, that hewaspledging his devotion. Which was ridiculous; this was a crazy, one-off weekend that flew in the face of her orderly life. But while she was spending one more day terrifying herself with spontaneous decisions, she might as well run at them full speed. She continued in her crisp voice.
“First question: On a scale of one to ten, how satisfied are you by your recent experience with the product?”
“Is your pussy the product?”
His coarse words sent a wicked thrill through her, and she flushed. “Y-yes.”
“Ten,” he growled.
She jotted the number down, if only to escape the intensity of his gaze. “And how likely are you to use the product again? On a scale from one to ten.”
“Eleven.”
She pursed her lips to keep from laughing. “So I, ah, take it you don’t view this as a single-use product?”
He raised his brows. “Oh, I think there’s fun to be had with single-use too.”
Then, to her dismay and delight, he slipped his hand under the blanket and started to move it up and down his cock.
“N-no, sir, the question referred to—”
“I know what it referred to, Ms. Carey. Please ask the next question.”
His hand kept working under the sheet, and Finn felt an answering pulse between her legs.
She cleared her throat and clung to her journal. “Question four: How likely are you to recommend the product to others?”
“Someone else? One to ten?”
She nodded, and possessiveness flared in his eyes.
“Zero. Negative fifty. An irrational number’s worth of no.”
She had to swallow a few times before she found her voice. “Question five: Do you have suggestions for ways to improve the product that we can pass along to our designers?”
The muscles in his arms tensed as he worked himself, and when he spoke again, his voice held a similar note of tension. “Not sure. I might need another demonstration.”
“Oh fuck,” she groaned, heedlessly tossing her journal to the floor.
In one smooth movement, she peeled off her shirt and stretched to grab another condom from the drawer. Then she yanked the sheet back to reveal the whole, lovely length of him straining toward her.
He hissed as she rolled on the condom and straddled his lap, guiding his dick where she needed it most. She set the pace, a languid rocking motion that created friction in all the best places. He reached up to free her hair, and it slipped down to brush against his shoulders as she ground against him. He grabbed a fistful with one hand and gripped her hip with the other, positioning her where he wanted so he could reach her breasts with his mouth. Finn thought she might lose her mind as he took care to torture each nipple with licks and bites. Faster than she would’ve thought possible, she felt the pressure build in her again, and she increased her pace until she hovered on the brink.
“I’m going to… Oh Tom, God, I’m so close,” she gasped.
“Then come for me.” He sucked her nipple into his mouth and pressed his thumb to her clit, and she shattered. Moments later so did he, and together they answered question five: nothing could improve that user experience.
Fourteen
