“No!” I couldn’t help but protest. He couldn’t put his finger there! He wasn’t supposed to! But though my words said no, my body quivered in response. It felt so good. So hot and tight and wrong and nasty. He stroked me, slowly, his index finger up my ass.
“That’s it,” he coaxed me, his other hand on my lower back, working my ass back and up for his enjoyment. “Let me in.” He brought his finger back out, dipped down into my pussy lube again. Then back up to the rim, he pushed again into my puckered hole.
This time I gasped at the assault because it felt so good.
“Watch me, Kara.” He fisted his hand in my hair and pulled my head up. My eyes flew open. I hadn’t realized I’d closed them. Feeling all the intense pleasure, I guessed I had. I looked back into the glass, now seeing his big, thick finger work in and out of my asshole.
“Oh, yes!” I called out, shocked by what I saw but loving it, straining toward his hand.
“You see how your ass wants it?” Declan asked, low and intense. “See how you’re begging for it? This ass is mine.” Suddenly, with his finger still up inside of me, he took his other hand and brought it down with a sharp, hard smack on my bare cheek. The spanking stung and burned against my flesh. I gasped and heat gushed between my thighs.
“Yes,” Declan praised my response. “Do you see the red mark of my hand on your ass?” I could, the evidence of his smack right there on my pale flesh. My pussy clenched.
“You like my finger up your ass, don’t you?” He finger-fucked me harder now, more relentlessly.
Oh, yes, I did, but I still felt bad telling him. I still felt like I shouldn’t want this. A good girl would be protesting the whole time, not begging for more.
“You want it deeper in you, don’t you? Tell me, Kara.”
“Yes,” I moaned from a place far within myself. I couldn’t fight it anymore. This man owned me, did things to me no one else ever could. With him, I could offer no resistance. He made me crave every depraved thing he could possibly think of doing.
“Keep quiet now,” Declan warned me. “You don’t want to get caught, you bad girl.” He spanked me again and I had to bite my lip to stop myself from crying out. I lifted my bottom up into the air for him, giving him full access. He spanked me again. “So dirty,” he murmured, his finger working my ass. “You want it so bad.”
Mewling, I begged. “Yes! Please!”
He twisted my nipple. “Stay still.” Stroking me more, he brought two fingers down to my pussy to play and tease, drawing lazy circles around my clit while he still worked my ass in and out with his broad index finger. Where once I fought, my tight asshole now took in his entire length. It was all I could do to try and stay still for him.
“There’s a lot I’m going to do to you this week, Kara,” Declan told me. “It’s going to be dirty and nasty and you’re going to love it.” With that, he took his finger out and plunged it back into my wet pussy again. This time he coated both his index and his middle finger.
“I’m going to spread you wider, now.” I gasped as he plunged both fingers in, stretching me even more. It hurt at first as I strained to take him in.
“Kara, are you watching?” I opened my eyes and looked up again, seeing his two large fingers disappearing into my asshole, working me in and out. “Do you feel my fingers inside of you?”
“Yes,” I moaned.
“Remember how huge my cock is? How hard you get me? This week, I’m going to fuck your ass. My cock is going to stretch you and fill you so deep. And you’re going to take every inch. ”
“Oh! Ah!” I started mewling, quivering and shaking. His words were so nasty, so naughty and wrong. But I couldn’t wait for him to do what he promised. His fingers stretched me, filled me, stroked me. He built my desire, pushing past where I ever dreamed I could go, higher and higher.
Just when I was about to climax and let the waves crash down over me and surrender into orgasm, Declan pulled away.
“You don’t get to come,” he reprimanded me. “Not yet.” One finger up to stroke my rear, he added, “Now I want you to think about what you just let me do. How much you loved it. And know that later this week, after I’ve trained your ass, I’m going to fuck your ass hard and you’re going to come all around my cock.”
I shuddered and shook under his light touch, knowing what he said was all too true.
“I have a few more concerns I’d like to voice.” The chairman of the board kept droning on and on. I couldn’t stop looking at my watch, even though the hands barely ever moved. It might never get to one o’clock. I’d told Kara to be back at the hotel at two. At this rate, I wouldn’t get out of my meeting until nightfall.
It was Wednesday, our second day in New York, and I’d barely even seen her. Sure, a little yesterday for brunch and at the park. And at the dressmaker’s shop, that had been good. I shifted in my chair beneath the table, even a brief memory provoking instant response.
But then I’d had to spend the entire goddamned night in yet another business meeting that would not end. Usually, I didn’t mind. I was a night owl myself and the whole European vibe of starting dinner at 10 p.m., finishing up around 2 a.m. worked for me. Last night? I’d wanted to yell at them “You’re not Italian! You’re American! Finish the hell up!”
It wasn’t like me to not want to put business first. Every deal mattered, every conversation, every potential partnership. I hadn’t come so far so fast by overlooking opportunities or missing chances. Ever vigilant, I never turned off, not for a second.
Now, though? I wanted these blow-hards to shut up. Yes, they had their concerns about the growth potential in Alaskan wilderness tourism. I’d seen enough visuals about global warming to last me a lifetime. They were overthinking things. A whole slew of data points didn’t change the fact that Alaska was an incredible place to get away from it all. I should have flown them up in my plane and had the meeting while ice fishing outside Anchorage. That would have shut them up. And freed up my time here in New York.
I had pressing business to attend to back at the hotel. Right now it was pressing against the zipper in my pants. I wanted to get back there with Kara. I needed to.
I glanced at my watch again. Maybe it was broken, the hands hadn’t moved a goddamned millimeter.
This wasn’t like me. He who dies with the most toys wins, that was my motto. Let people who’d grown up with their own polo ponies question my values. I’d grown up with a whole lot of nothing and I could tell you, it felt good now to have so many toys. I thrived on all of it, the chase, the acquisition, the accumulation. Winning a new contract, pulling in a new investor, opening a new site, that’s what drove me. My single-minded purpose was the key to my success.
But right now, I didn’t want any of it. I wanted to see Kara. I had a whole afternoon planned. And, yes, a three o’clock call during which I would drive down the asking price from a skittish seller. It was a call that mattered and required my energy and attention, the full force of my persuasive abilities. I’d do that, too. But before that and after? Kara.
I wanted her spread against the bed, her hair around her like a halo without a stitch of clothing on her body so I could worship every inch. Maybe I would tie her up so I could take my time. I wanted her in the shower, in the tub, over the desk, on the couch, against the wall. My imagination knew no bounds. I wanted to ruin every fucking inch of that hotel room, make her mine in every way I possibly could and more.
Finally, I got my get out of jail free card. The younger brother of the board president told us all about a dream he’d had the night before. Apparently their late mother had appeared and told him that she wanted him to take risks. Then she’d flown off with eagle wings. I’m not making this shit up. I hated family-run boards, they were always the most dysfunctional. But, hell, when crazy ass-backwards decision-making landed in my favor, I was all for it. The guy said that their eagle-winged mother wanted them to invest, and so they’d invested. Hallelujah, I was o
ut of there.
Vladimir was outside waiting for me in the limo. I knew a lot of business associates were moving over to the car service Uber. I’d taken their cars a few times, but I preferred my own driver at my beck and call. Call me a control freak and I’d agree. What I could control in my life I did. What I couldn’t, I beat down into submission anyway.
“How’s Miss Kara?” Vladimir asked.
“Looking forward to finding out,” I growled. Impatient, I pictured her waiting for me at the hotel.
“She did not call for any rides,” he informed me. I figured. Too stubborn and independent. And it would be so foreign for her to think of calling a personal driver. I’d have to accustom her to that kind of thing.