Breaking Meredith
“When I was naked.”
His lips reach the exact spot I marked on him and I tense, expecting the worst.
“Oh yes,” he exhales, his hot breath caressing my skin.
“Show me,” I demand softly just as his teeth sink into me. He nips me hard, but not hard enough to break skin.
“Show me what got you off,” I pant.
I want all of his dirty little secrets. I want to see how deep this crazy obsession of his goes.
His eyes roll up to mine and it’s like looking into a smoldering pit of hellfire.
I did that. With just a kiss, I unlocked the man he keeps chained inside him. The man he won’t show the rest of the world.
Hands releasing his grip on my ass, they grab me by the hips and gently guide me, turning me until I’m facing away from him.
Then he pulls me back until I’m leaning against his chest and his erection is digging into my sex.
I squirm, unconsciously rubbing my clit against him.
His arm comes up quick, locking across my chest to still me. “If you want to see, princess, you must remain still.”
I sigh and he chuckles. “If you move, I’m going to bend you over the desk and fuck you before you get what you want.”
That threat sends a little thrill through me and I’m tempted, so tempted to disobey him, but ultimately my curiosity wins out.
He waits, testing me, before his arm reaches out and his hand covers his mouse. Clicking around, he pulls up a new folder and scrolls down a list of files.
“What do you want to see?” he breathes into my ear and then gives my lobe a little nip.
It takes every ounce of self-control I have to keep from jolting in his grip.
“I want to see your favorite.”
“You’ve already seen my favorites.”
I snort and he chuckles, then he nips my damn ear again, seriously testing my patience. Maybe this was a bad idea, especially because he seems to believe he’s in control again…
“Say it, Meredith. Say you want to see the videos I’ve saved of you touching yourself.”
I take a deep breath and my breasts rise, pushing against the constriction of his arm. I don’t have to say it, I could easily back out now.
But then I might never again get a chance to see the moments in my life that awakened this twisted desire he has for me.
“I want to see the videos of when I was touching myself,” I groan.
He rewards me with a kiss on my neck and a double-click of his mouse.
Instantly, the screen fills with a scene of me stripping off my clothes and getting ready to step into a shower.
“There are so many videos…” he taunts. “Do you want to know how many times I’ve watched you get yourself off?”
My cheeks burn with heat as I think about every time I must have masturbated over the past five years, completely unaware he was watching. “I’d rather not.”
“Are you sure?” he asks, as my naked body on the screen steps into the spray of water. “It’s a rather impressive number.”
Oh god. This was such a bad idea. What the hell was I thinking? He’s completely turned this thing around on me. He should be the one feeling humiliated and embarrassed. And yet, he’s showing no shame at all.
“I’m sure,” I grit out.
“Very well,” he sighs as if he’s disappointed, and then the hand that was on the mouse comes down on my thigh.
He begins to slowly drag it back, pushing up my skirt. The tips of his fingers brush against the sensitive flesh of my inner thigh and I have to bite my lip to keep myself from spreading my legs wider.
On the screen, I’m tipping my head back, letting the water soak me.
“I’ve watched this particular video so many times, I can reenact it in my sleep,” he breathes into my ear.
My core clenches at the thought of him watching this over and over.
“Did you touch yourself?” I ask, partly because I’m curious, and partly because I’m still hoping I can turn things back on him.
“Yes,” he answers without hesitation and rocks his hips up.
The arm that is locked over my chest suddenly shifts. On the screen, just as I reach up and grab my breast, Simon grabs my breast. He squeezes in perfect timing with the video. He even times it perfectly when he suddenly pinches my nipple through my bra.
He tugs and rolls it between his fingers, and I whimper because he’s doing it exactly how I like it. Exactly how I always do it.
“Remember,” he reminds me as his other hand suddenly pushes between my thighs. “If you move, I stop.”
He grabs my panties and yanks them to the side. My clit throbs with anticipation. I know exactly what’s coming next.
On screen, I reach between my legs.