When he sensed her relax beneath him, he slowed his thrusts, running his hand up and down her thigh, touching her every which way he could: with his mouth, his cock, his hands.
Overwhelming her with his intentions. Forcing her to know only his touch. Demanding she stop shutting him out. Ordering that her mind quiet. He wanted it all.
He broke the kiss, opening his eyes to her, and her brow had settled. The pleasure overrode her obvious broken heart that was refusing to let anyone else in. He slid inside her with ease. “This is how I want your cunt, easily accepting me. Showing me how much you want me.”
Her moans deepened, yet she held his gaze with a soft acceptance in the depths of her eyes, spellbinding him. “Yeah, darlin’,” he murmured, “Staring at me like that. Right at me. Telling me exactly what you need.”
Swirling his hips, he rode her with the intent to touch her heart. He didn’t give her rough lovemaking to crash her into her orgasm, but he drove her there with slow precision. Her inner walls clamped against him, her eyes went wide, and he clenched his jaw, struck by something he saw in their depths. Something he couldn’t quite pinpoint, but something that felt so damn good he never wanted to let it go.
He moved faster, harder, always keeping his body close to hers, pushing her into the mattress. Running his hand up her thigh, he continued on until he reached her chin. He held it in his grip, holding her right to him. “Yes, Mary, come like this. Looking nowhere but at me. Keep your eyes open.”
“Yes…” was all she managed before her breath hitched.
Elliott watched her, as it appeared she wasn’t looking at him, too stuck in her head. But then the emotion that filled her expression sucked him in. For years he’d wanted a submissive to look at him like that. That he was her all. That she belonged only to him, and Mary gave him that now in the seconds of her building orgasm. A look so intoxicating he’d forever be chasing to see it again, and he hoped to have it last longer than mere seconds.
Beneath him, her inner muscles worked over his cock in a splendid ride. He grunted against the vise grip of her channel and his orgasm rose in the emotion she showed him. The softness in her expression. That specialness he saw in her soul. His cum pulsed into the condom as he rocked into her, grunting with each contraction of his penis.
He dropped his mouth to hers, and he wouldn’t let her forget the connection between them. He craved for her to see this unknown chemistry he could practically taste on his tongue. Yet when he broke the kiss and lifted his head, he saw the distance in her gaze, and the return of her pinched expression. Whatever she felt in that special moment between them, she regretted. In fact, sadness reflected heavily in her eyes.
Now that he’d seen that pure submission, even a glimpse of it, her distance and pain clenched his chest. How could something be so beautiful but so out of his reach? With a sigh, he yanked the knots from the rope, unbinding her from the headboard.
Once free, she moved away from him and sat on the edge of the bed. A long, terribly thick few seconds passed before she hung her head and whispered, “Thank you for this weekend, but I think it’s best I leave now. Are you done with me, sir?”
He stared at her hair flowing down her back, wanting to tangle his fingers in its soft strands and make her stay. He couldn’t understand why she could show him such submission in those seconds and then just shut it off. Why she wouldn’t let this glaringly obvious connection between them develop. Why she was entirely against the idea of even forming a friendship. How could she walk away so easily, as if this weekend hadn’t meant anything to her? He doubted the gentle-hearted Mary could do that, which only spoke of how much pain she was in. “Are you okay, Mary?” he asked gently.
She paused, drew in a long breath, then glanced over her shoulder. Tears welled in her eyes. “Yes. This weekend was wonderful. I’m just not ready for this. Please let me leave.”
The demand to force her to stay hung on his tongue. He wanted to understand her and help her through her troubles. Though at the stiffness in her shoulders, he knew she was already long gone. “If you want to leave, Mary, you may.”
Much to his disappointment, she did.
Chapter Eight
On Monday morning, Elliott leaned against his chair surrounded by the directors of Foster Enterprises. The posh building with the industrial design had been the first building he’d bought when he graduated from Harvard.
In his late thirties, he took the wealth left to him by his late parents’ estate, which he shared with his sister, and then expanded his business and began buying companies in crisis. Both his parents had lived full lives and died in their seventies—his mother from brain cancer and his father from a heart attack two years later—and what he learned about business had come from his father.
Elliott scanned the room, listening to the conversations going on around him, and he was proud of what his company had become. From his knowledge and driven work ethic, he had turned his company into a multimillion-dollar venture. He owned a string of businesses across the United States, with most in New York and Los Angeles. Foster Enterprises had some of the savviest businesspeople he’d ever met.
One thing was certain: With every company he had either bought outright or simply invested in as a silent partner, it had succeeded beyond his hope. Not a single business he’d invested in had failed.
The vice president and his sister, Ana, flipped through the real estate agreement. Wearing a black pin-striped skirt suit, her dyed blond hair was pulled back in its typical bun. Her light gray eyes quickly scanned the document. When she finally raised her head, her red painted lips pulled into a frown. “If we are buying the IT company in Boston, we need to act now and give full price. There is more interest on this one. If we wait, we’re going to go into a bidding war.”
Elliott nodded, lacing his fingers together on the table. “Agreed.” He turned to the director of sales, Gerald. “Go ahead and contact the realtor. Put in our offer at full price.” Especially considering full price was way below market value. Thus was the reality of a business going belly-up.
Gerald nodded, gathering his papers off the oak desk. “I’ll get it done.”
Elliott tidied up the paperwork in front of him and said to the others in the meeting room, “That’s all for now. We’ll meet again once the deal is firmed up.”
The rest of the directors rose from their chairs and then left the meeting room. Ana placed the agreement back in the file folder and smiled. “It’s a good choice for us.”
“You were right on with this one,” he replied, damn happy his sister, who was two years his junior, excelled in business. She hadn’t always worked for him, but had joined the company after her divorce six years ago, when she needed a better income to support her four children.
Elliott had hired her without question. Ana was a good employee and started with a job as director of sales. When the VP position became available because his last employee retired, she’d fit perfectly into that role.
Ana rose from her leather chair and pushed it under the table, grinning at him. “Of course I was right. I always am.” Then, with her usual strut, she headed out of the meeting room.
Elliott laughed, shaking his head. He and his sister always had a close relationship, and after her divorce, they’d only become tighter. She was a big reason why Foster Enterprises did so well this last quarter.