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The Girlfriend (The Boss 2)

Page 143

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“Where should your mind be, Sophie?” He’d picked up my distress, and the fact I couldn’t slip entirely into my role. His hand slid down my body, from my face to my neck, over my breasts and stomach, down to my cunt, where he grabbed my mound and roughly forced his fingers inside me.

“This is where it should be,” he growled against my ear. “This should be your only concern right now. Taking pleasure from what I do to you. Feeling what I want you to feel, what I let you feel.”

He jerked the gag from my mouth with his left hand, his arm wrapped around my shoulders to keep me upright. I coughed as I tried to swallow the saliva that had built up behind the ball.

“Where should your mind be, Sophie?” The fingers inside me stretched me painfully, and I whimpered and squirmed on them.

“On what you’re doing to me, Sir.” My voice quavered. “On feeling what you want me to feel.”

His fingers withdrew, and he slapped my pussy, hard. My body bowed and I almost bit through my lips to keep from crying out.

“Very good. Is the gag causing a problem?” He wanted to know if it was my inability to speak that took me out of my sub space. A boneless calm washed through me at that. He wanted me to achieve the mindless peace I felt as his sub, just as much as I wanted to. Merely remembering that we were working toward the same goal was enough to center me.

I shook my head. “No, Sir.”

“For now, let’s go without it.” He left the gag hanging around my neck. “Just for now.”

Wrapping his big hand across my face, he covered my mouth with his palm, his thumb resting against the side of my nose. He pressed the vibrator against my inner thigh, slowly rolling the cool metal cylinder toward my pussy. It was the platinum vibrator, I could tell, the one he’d used on me in New York, when he’d fucked me and forced me to orgasm over and over. I panted and squirmed. The torturous buzz travelled slowly up, and I made high-pitched sounds against his hand.

“Remember, you’re being quiet,” he reminded me. Then he pressed the rounded tip of the cylinder against my clit, and my hips rose up from the floor.

“You’re already wet, you know,” he said, as though we were discussing the weather. “It doesn’t take much, does it?”

I squeezed my eyes shut behind the blindfold and shook my head.

“Do you know why that is?” He leaned his cheek against mine. “It’s because you’re my whore, Sophie. You’re nothing but my filthy little slut, aren’t you?”

Holy fuck. Those forbidden words, the ones I was never supposed to self-apply, the ones I should never let a man apply to me, ramped up my excitement unbelievably. If I’d had any indication that Neil would use those words against me in a derogatory way, I would have been out of there and on a plane back to New York in a heartbeat. But as a part of our sex play, reveling in the taboo of those words in a safe way, I had never been so turned on in my life.

“What are you?” he demanded, releasing his grip on my face so I could speak.

“I’m your whore.” The word sent more blood pounding to my already engorged clit, and I rubbed myself against the vibrator with small, desperate movements of my hips. “I’m your filthy little slut.”

I came. Oh, sweet fucking lord, I came so hard that my feet jerked against the carpet, my legs thrashed, and I seriously thought I might hurt him, myself, or both of us, with my wild flailing. He covered my mouth, muffling my relieved shout, and moved the vibe in circles over my clitoris while I whimpered and twisted in his grasp.

He didn’t wait for me to come down before he got to his feet and hauled me to mine. His fingers spread over my face, he gave me a shove with his palm to push me onto the bed, and I fell, bouncing on the mattress.

“Did I give you permission to come?” he snarled, and a hiccup of fear escaped me. He forced my legs back, held together. “Give me your hands.”

I extended my arms, still wearing the cuffs around my wrists. He tugged my hands so that my arms looped behind my knees, then clipped the cuffs back together. I was my own binding, my feet brushing the backs of my thighs, my dripping, satisfied cunt tilted up and helpless.

The smack of the paddle against my pussy was an unpleasant shock, and I couldn’t help my scream. He reached up and shoved the gag back into my mouth. The vibrator pressed against my aching, over-sensitive clit, and I bit down on the rubber ball between my teeth.


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