The Girlfriend (The Boss 2)
Page 59
He slid those two fingers, wet from my cunt, into the cleft of my ass. He found his mark and pushed, gently, just the tips slipping in.
I shivered, a mewling “oh” tumbling over my lips.
“Relax.” It wasn’t a soothing command, but an order I would disobey at my own peril.
I let out a slow breath and willed my body to stop tensing against the invasion. He stroked my clit with the thumb of his other hand, rolling it in slow circles until I was quivering with need.
“Remember, you don’t have my permission to come yet. You must tell me when you’re getting too close.” His fingers slipped deeper into my ass, and I moaned.
“Are you going to torture me like this all night?” I gasped, gritting my back teeth against the aching pleasure his hands were giving me. I wasn’t supposed to come, but I didn’t want him to stop touching me, either. Something was going to give eventually, though, and I didn’t want to step so close to the edge.
“I’m there,” I whispered.
“No, you aren’t.” He rubbed the pads of his fingers just inside my vagina, rolling over my g-spot with firm pressure. “If you were, you’d shut your legs. I can read you like a very dirty book.”
I panted and rocked against his hand.
“No, no.” He pulled his fingers from my cunt and pressed me down with his palm splayed across my lower back “Don’t speed it along.”
“Please.” I wet my lips, moaning.
“But this is the part I like,” he teased, torturously circling my clit with his thumb. “And I think you enjoy it, too.”
“I enjoy coming, Sir,” I reminded him through clenched teeth.
“Oh, you’ll come tonight, Sophie. I guarantee it. In fact, I would go so far as to say, ‘be careful what you wish for.’”
The shiver that moved through me brought me closer to a hard edge from which I would not be able to pull back.
“No!” I shouted, curling up from the bed. “I’m- “
He immediately stilled; that was good, because just the movement of his hand withdrawing would have set me off.
Neil let me cool down a little before he slowly eased his fingers from my body. “Don’t move,” he told me, his tone gentle. “Calm down a bit. I’ll be right back.”
I closed my eyes and breathed deep. My hands clenched and unclenched against the bed. I imagined laying in this bed with him, our limbs tangled together, his chest beneath my cheek, and I realized with a shock of delight that this kind of submission was like a long run or a workout. I kept the end goal in sight to get me through it, even though I was enjoying every painful moment.
When he returned, he brought the lube and the glass butt plug. “Have you ever used one of these, Sophie?”
“No, Sir. I had a smaller, twisty one, though.” That had been a fun toy.
“This will feel different. Not only is it wide, but it’s heavy, as well. Just relax, and give yourself time to get used to it.” The plug was shockingly cold as he pressed it against my opening. I tensed, and he slapped my ass, hard.
“I told you to relax. Are we going to have to stop so I can punish you?”
“No, Sir,” I whimpered, willing myself to hold entirely still.
There was a soft squirting noise and a cold glob of lube fell between my cheeks. He smeared it around with the tip of the plug. I moaned, fighting the urge to push back on it. “Take a breath, Sophie.”
I responded to his command automatically, and he slowly pressed the tip of the plug in. My thighs ached from my pose, and I concentrated on the burn of that to prepare myself for the burn I was about to feel. The cool, smooth glass slid in faster than I’d thought it would, widening and stretching me until the rounded, flared bottom had pushed past my opening, my hole gripping tight around the thinner neck.
“Thank you, Sir.” I shivered. It was really cold, and heavy, too. I had to clench to keep it from falling, which I assumed was the point. The contraction of my muscles pulled a harder, deeper pulse to my clit and pussy, and before I could stop myself, I rolled my hips against the pillows.
“What are you doing?” he asked with cool interest as I tried to discreetly grind my clit against the fabric.
“Nothing,” I said automatically, like a naughty child caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
Neil’s palm connected with my ass before I could anticipate the blow, and I uttered a startled cry.
“Turn over,” he ordered, though I didn’t have much choice in the matter. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and pulled, and I had no alternative but to follow where his grip led. I was going to get punished. And surprisingly, I felt a bit disappointed in myself for not following the rules of the game.