Rather than laugh, she stuck out her little pink tongue and licked his dick from the base to tip. Pleasure, hot, ticklish, twisted in his lower belly, his balls tightening so hard he felt faint. He braced his free hand against the bed. She swirled her tongue around the head of his cock and studied him as she played, tasting him, kissing him, rubbing her face along his shaft and the heaviness below. Her hair was silk in his fist, and once he remembered to breathe, he tugged experimentally, fascinated by her gasp of pleasure. He tightened his grip and she cried out in pain and dismay, but she didn’t stop. If anything, it made her more eager.
She sucked his length into her hot, wet mouth, tugging, stroking, twirling, insistent. Not all of it would fit, but her eagerness was enthralling. He gritted his teeth, trying to resist the insanity her mouth threatened to unleash. She suckled him close to the brink and kept him teetering there, knowing exactly how to ease or stop when he was about to explode, and doing this freakish thing with her tongue that had him panting for control.
He snapped.
Grabbing the sides of her head, he fucked her mouth, hard and rough, stuffing his cock in farther than she managed on her own, loving the way she gagged and struggled to breathe when he let her. Drool seeped from the corners of her mouth dripping down his cock.
A strand of her long, lovely hair escaped one of his fists and hit his stomach, then slid downward over his cock, tickling maddeningly, and finally stopped to bob back and forth as he fucked her face, sensuously brushing against his aching balls. Every hair on his body stood on end, and the tension in his hips and ass and lower back had his control coiled so tight it hurt. He panted and his dick pulsed hard in her mouth, and for a long moment he was caught in an aching static moment of frozen time, back arched, thighs taut.
She gave one last long hard pull with her mouth, sucking his fucking soul out of his cock.
His come burst from him, and the staggering amount of pleasure that came with it forced him to give a ragged cry he couldn’t control. But she wasn’t done. She sucked, worshipping, and he watched in aroused disgust as she swallowed every drop of come she coaxed from his balls. Lightheaded pleasure brought an erotic dizziness, as though he’d forgotten to breathe ten minutes ago, and only just remembered to start again.
No wonder men obsessed over this act. Before he even let her pull away he wanted more. Angrily, he tightened his hold on her hair, but in response she moaned around his cock, making it stiffen again before it even went limp. She’d trapped him – made him want her – and now she’d expect something in return. He had no idea how to bring a woman off, and as much as he wanted to explore her body, the fact that he didn’t know how to do anything with it made him feel stupid and foolish. He wasn’t a boy. He should know these things. How dare she put him in a position of owing her when he had no idea how to make things even again?
He pulled her off him, and they stared at each other – him angry, and her gaze a desperate plea. Both of her cheekbones had the harsh red imprint of his thumbs from where he’d taken control of her. The marks were brands of dishonor, proving what he was capable of if he let himself get carried away.
“Mister Leduc, I –”
In the distance the front door slammed.
The girl’s eyes widened, and her mouth fell open.
Damn. Sutton had said she was gone until tonight.
His heart shifted from thudding hard with his anger and release, to pounding with humiliation. He couldn’t let the others find them together. Not like this. It was wrong. Undignified. He was technically her employer. He was a thirty-year-old man perving on his young assistant, and he’d crossed the fucking line. As willing as she’d been in the beginning, he’d still held her still and forced his cock down her throat. He’d forced her and he wanted nothing more than to do it again.
“Get out,” he snapped.
“But –”
“Now. Before she comes looking for us.”
The girl rose from the hardwood with the grace of a dancer, and he watched her flee the room, his tie trailing from her wrists like a sad, tickertape tail. Hopefully she’d figure out how to free herself. He was too fucked up to touch her again.
Chapter Five
Even though Minnow worked side by side with Sutton in the kitchen, there was a silence and peace that came with the work. They’d prepared so many meals together that they moved around the space like ballerinas in frilly floral aprons, weaving around each other as if every move was choreographed.
As Sutton seasoned the meat, Minnow peeled and rinsed potatoes.
“So when I’m gone to visit my sister, don’t forget to check the leftovers,” Sutton reminded her for the second time. “They’re labeled, but they’ll need to be thrown out when they hit the best before date I put on them, or else Severin will eat them.”
“He claims to have an iron stomach.”
“Yes, then he gets sick and can’t figure out why. A day later he’s eating spoiled food again. If you see him eating anything with mold on it just slap it right out of his hand.”
Minnow laughed. “I doubt he’d take that kind of intervention from me.”
“Tell him ‘Sutton’s orders.’ Call me if he gives you a hard time.” The older woman looked at Minnow sidelong. “You seem to be able to handle him just fine.”
He’d gone back to mostly ignoring her, but at least he was more polite than before. Other than vague civility, he’d completely shut down. No covert glances. No tension from him. Just...nothing. He’d sworn so much when he was coming in her mouth that she never would have expected this tepid reception from him after the fact. It was like he’d panicked, but instead of being embarrassed or angry, he’d shut down his feelings. As if he’d blocked out what they’d done.
His indifference to her kind of hurt. It was a worse rejection than an outright ‘it’s not you, it’s me,’ line. Apathy was harder on her self-esteem than outright rejection.
Well, he was damaged, and she knew she wasn’t exactly a catch compared to who he could attract if he chose to, but it still made her sad. It had been stupid to let herself be attracted to an emotionally stunted eccentric billionaire. Between the dominance and his loneliness, though, she’d been helpless against his awkward pseudo-advances. Why did she always fall for the broken ones?
Her sigh made Sutton’s gaze drift over to her. “He’s not the easiest man to get to know,” she said quietly. “He’s a runner. If he thinks you’re getting too close, he’ll put some distance between you.” The older woman began peeling a carrot more viciously than the vegetable could possibly deserve.