Tracy raised an eyebrow, but nothing else. "Why?"
Mr. Hayes wrapped his free hand around her chin and guided her face upwards.
"Because I’m trying to help."
Tracy wanted to fight. She knew that, in a way, she needed to fight. She also knew that she didn’t have very much fight left in her at that moment. Though her eyes were still closed, little, quick flashes of white and green speckled her vision. The spots would flash and dance in almost imperceptible quivers before disappearing completely.
Then there was the matter of the pain. Like a buzzing chainsaw had just passed through, a horrible ripping sensation raced from Tracy’s eyebrow, near her scar, all the way to the base of her skull, where it then pooled and radiated out through the rest of her body. It didn’t feel like a normal headache. At least, not like any headache that Tracy had ever experienced. In the end, she knew that she had to relinquish control, even if it was just a little.
Her neck muscles went slack as soon as the back of her head came to rest on a kitchen towel that Mr. Hayes had placed strategically over the back of the chair.
"Just relax. I’ve already had the room made up at home. It was supposed to be a surprise but," he rested the saucer of ice on the middle of her forehead, "this is just as good."
The shock of cold was a welcome relief. In minutes, she could feel the icy sensation sinking deeper and deeper into her flesh, relaxing the tight muscles that were causing all of her grief.
A steady trickle of cool, melted water dribbled down over her eyebrows and started to pool near the corners of her eyes.
"That’s so nice," she sighed and licked her lips.
Mr. Hayes circled her right temple with the shrinking piece of ice. Before long, he had to go back to the cup for another.
With the second piece, he started back up at her temple, though it didn’t stay there long. Over time his hand drifted lower, tracing the delicate lines of her jaw and the gentle outward thrust of her collar bone. Further still, Mr. Hayes pushed the ice on a downward slope across her chest. Again the water trickled down, quickly soaking through Tracy’s white tank top and bra.
"Mr. Hayes," she gasped. "I didn’t tell you…"
He leaned down over her, his chiseled nose brushing up against her chin, and kissed her. A moment later, he pulled back just far enough to speak.
"Don’t tell me anything for once."
His quick retort made Tracy feel flustered.
"I don’t…"
Mr. Hayes jammed the remaining chunk of ice down the front of her shirt and pressed it against her right nipple, causing Tracy to gasp. The mix of surprise and desire left her speechless.
Again he leaned in for a kiss, this time taking the time to thrust his tongue over hers in quick, hard caresses while he worked her breast with the ice. It was then that Tracy felt the last remaining threads of her migraine give way to pure, unadulterated lust. She needed him to take her right there, needed to let go of the control that she had worked so hard to build in her favor. Something about Mr. Hayes’ eagerness made her go limp in his arms.
Tracy pulled away from their kiss just long enough to groan, "Take me, Mr. Hayes."
The billionaire yanked his hand out of her top and flicked the melted water off of his fingers. Still behind her, he pushed both hands down below the waist of her designer denim shorts. He put his head beside hers. Tracy could hear his breathing. It was deep, heavy and slow, like an animal waiting to strike. Each hot breath rolled down over her shoulder, heating the cold skin on her chest back up.
The hot, prickling sensation made her bite the corner of her lip and moan.
Mr. Hayes’ roving fingers tip-toed beyond the precipice of her quivering mound. His nicely manicured nails barely grazed the curved tops of her neatly trimmed strip of pubic hair. From there he pushed onward, letting his middle finger slip down between her dripping wet folds.
Tracy slouched down in her seat just slightly and pushed her knees apart. The whole time, her eyes stayed clenched shut. Something about the way she felt right then, the way that every touch sent rippling waves of pleasure racing out through her tense body, made her reluctant to move another muscle.
As it turned out, she didn’t have to.
Mr. Hayes spread his fingers into a ‘v’ and pushed down in a smooth, rocking motion. The webbed spot where his fingers met would caress Tracy’s swollen clit with each stroke, though just barely. Even so, hard shudders of delight rocked the tired woman’s body in time with his movements. For several minutes Mr. Hayes stayed there, rubbing up and down with increasing speed.
"Yes," Tracy hissed through clenched teeth.
After a little longer, Mr. Hayes withdrew his hand and came around in front of her, poised between Tracy’s spread legs. He jerked her new jean shorts down, along with her delicate, lace panties. Tracy moved like she was going to close her knees, but Mr. Hayes pushed them back apart, even wider.
He fell to his knees and began to kiss and nibble softly on the inside of her right thigh. Working his way up at what felt to Tracy like an agonizingly slow pace, Mr. Hayes guided his skilled mouth upward to the delicate fold of flesh lying between Tracy’s quivering thigh and her slick, throbbing pussy.
She didn’t want to wait anymore, but before she could raise her head and demand release, Mr. Hayes’s hands spread her open and wrapped his lips around her bright pink nub.