I soar and I soar and I soar, Braden still fingering me, still sucking me.
Until finally he releases me, moves backward slightly, and gently eases his fingers out of me.
I sink into the bed, still holding on to the rungs of the headboard. I want to let go, but I can’t. Braden’s will over me is that strong.
That controlling.
Somewhere in a haze around me, I’m vaguely aware of Braden undressing. I don’t see or hear him. I just know.
Then his cock is in my pussy, and he’s thrusting, thrusting, thrusting…
Again and again and again, against my sensitive clit and plowing into my tight pussy.
I’m spent, completely spent.
Braden can do anything to me at this point. Anything, and I’ll let him. If he wants my ass tonight, he can take it.
Any-fucking-thing.
Still he thrusts, and still I lie, open to him with my hands gripping the rungs.
“So hot,” he says through gritted teeth. “Want you so much. Fuck!”
He rams into me, releasing.
So sensitive am I from all those orgasms, I feel every spurt of his cock inside me.
I feel.
I fucking feel.
Chapter Thirty-One
The next morning, I step out of the shower into the warm bath sheet Braden provides.
“Why didn’t you join me?” I ask.
“Because we both have work to do today.” He rubs the towel over my dripping body. “And if I had joined you, we’d be spending the morning in bed.”
I smile. Sounds amazing, but he’s right. My meeting with Susanne is important, and whatever he’s working on is also important.
“I do have one surprise for you today, though,” he says, his eyes afire.
My heart skips a beat. “What’s that?”
He pulls a stainless steel object out of his pocket. “This.”
My eyes widen. I know what it is. He used something similar to titillate my body a while ago. Only he didn’t put it where it’s meant to go.
“A butt plug,” I say.
“That’s right. You’re going to wear this to your interview.”
“The hell I am.” I whip my hands to my hips, letting the bath sheet fall to the tile floor.
“Oh, you are,” he says. “You want to know why?”
“Please. Enlighten me.”
“Because it will remind you of me. Every time you find yourself wondering what to say or how to act, this will remind you that I’m with you, and you’ll know exactly what to do.”
“It’s not a magic butt plug, Braden.”
His lips curve into that semi-smile I’ve grown so fond of. “It has its own kind of magic. It will remind you of my control over you, which in turn will remind you of your control over your career.”
Is that really why he wants me to wear it? Or does he just want to think of me with a butt plug in my ass while I’m attending the most important meeting of my life?
Doesn’t matter.
I already know I’ll wear it, and so does he. I see it in his eyes.
He hands it to me. “Look at it. Feel its weight.”
I examine the toy. It’s the shape of a small light bulb with a pink jewel on the end—the part that will show from my ass. It’s heavier than I expect, but not so heavy that it will hinder me.
It’s pretty in a strange kind of way.
Braden pulls out a plastic bottle. “Water-based lubricant,” he says, “to help it go in.”
He stands over one of the sinks and squeezes a bit of lube onto the toy. He smooths it over the bulb with his fingers. “Ready?”
Am I?
It doesn’t really matter.
“Bend over,” he says. “Show me that gorgeous ass.”
I obey, gripping the edge of the countertop.
He probes my ass with the slick tip of the plug.
“Relax.”
I try.
“I’m going to slide the tip in. Breathe.”
I wince slightly at the invasion, but once it’s in and the thinner part between the bulb and the jewel rests against my rim, I relax.
It feels…interesting.
But not bad. Not bad at all.
“This will remind you who you are, Skye, as you embark on this new career. It will remind you that you’re mine and that I believe in you.”
“What will it remind you of?” I ask.
“It reminds me that I’m going to claim that ass soon.” He gazes into my eyes. “Very soon.”
…
I’m dressed to the nines in designer clothing. A Ralph Lauren double-breasted charcoal-gray suit and an Ann Taylor creamy silk blouse. My Chanel handbag and a pair of classic black leather Jimmy Choo pumps complete my ensemble. On my lips, of course, is Susanne Cherry Russet lip stain, perfect for any occasion—especially meeting with a Susanne executive.
After sending Tessa the promised selfie and doing a quick Instagram post, I take a moment to breathe deeply before I enter the gigantic skyscraper in Manhattan where Susanne Corporate is housed. I stop at security in the lobby.
“Good morning. I have an appointment with Eugenie Blake at Susanne Cosmetics.”
“Name?”
“Skye Manning.”
“All right. Sign in here, and I’ll need to see your driver’s license.”