He took a step back. With my legs spread and my hands bound behind my back, I felt incredibly vulnerable. Trying to feel more in control, I huffed, “Just get moving. Let’s get it over with.”
Weston bit his bottom lip, and I swear I felt it between my legs. There was something so damn sexy about the way he looked at me.
“You’re going to look in my eyes while I finger you.”
My jaw dropped open. This guy had some nerve.
Amused at my expression, Weston closed the distance between us again. One of his hands pushed between my open legs, and he not so gently shoved my panties to the side. Two fingers rubbed up and down my center, and then one plunged inside, just like he’d done last night. Yet somehow, I still hadn’t been expecting it.
I gasped.
“So wet for me already.”
He pumped his finger in and out, and my eyes fell closed.
“Tsk tsk tsk. Have you forgotten what I told you so soon? Eyes open, my little Fifi.”
I started to say something, to tell him once again to stop calling me that, but then his finger glided in and out a few more times, and whatever thought I’d had disappeared faster than my inhibitions.
“Spread your legs wider so I can give you more. I love that you’re so tight.”
My head wanted to slam my legs closed, but my body craved the more he wanted to give me. Shamelessly, I opened my legs.
Weston smiled. He held my gaze as he slipped his finger out and pushed into me with two. I tensed for a minute, then relaxed as he continued to move in and out with methodical precision.
“One more…”
I’d been so lost in the moment, I wasn’t sure what he was referring to until I felt a third finger enter me. I moaned, and my eyes shut again.
Weston waited a few seconds, and then whispered in my ear, “You’re so beautiful when you’re turned on. Such a shame you only want me to take you from behind. I bet the sight of you coming with my cock instead of my hand is absolutely phenomenal.”
My breathing grew labored. His warm breath in my ear, along with the constant stroking inside of me had me so close already. Weston crooked his fingers and changed the angle of his pumps, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before my orgasm.
He reached behind me and threaded his fingers into my hair. Yanking my head back, he sucked on my exposed neck.
“Ohhh…oh God.”
He tugged harder on my hair, to the point that it hurt—but not enough to make him stop—and his thumb stretched to rub my clit.
“Eyes open when you come,” he groaned as he pulled back to watch me. But I was so lost in the moment, I barely heard him. He repeated his words again, this time with a stern tone. “Eyes fucking open, Sophia.”
My eyes flew open. On instinct, I went to grab for him, forgetting that my hands were bound behind me. The leather around my wrists had no play, and the more I pulled, the more it dug into my skin. Surprisingly, the feeling of being restrained didn’t scare me, it actually seemed to turn me on. So I struggled a few more times in a vain attempt to get free, until I felt my body begin to climb over the edge. Oh God. With a guttural sound that was a cross between a moan and a yell, my orgasm ripped through me. Our eyes met, and the fire in Weston’s eyes while he watched me orgasm kept me riveted in place. When the last of the ripples ended, I leaned forward and rested my head on his shoulder, allowing my eyes to shut.
It didn’t take long for me to feel vulnerable again. I kept my eyes closed.
“Take it off,” I whispered.
“You sure?”
I nodded.
Weston reached around and unfastened the buckle, freeing my hands.
I rubbed one of my wrists.
He looked down. They were red from friction burn, though it really didn’t hurt.
“You want me to get you some ice?”
I shook my head. “I’m fine.”
“Some cream or something?”
Him using that soft tone freaked me out almost as much as what I’d just let happen. I pressed my hand against his chest and nudged him to take a step back.
Righting my skirt, I snapped, “Don’t be nice to me.”
Weston’s eyebrows jumped. “You want me to be a dick?” He thumbed behind him. “I’m sure there’s some salt around here somewhere I could pour on. That will make it sting. Would that work for you?”
I narrowed my eyes and hopped off the desk. “You know what works for me? You not meeting with the union when I’m not present. We own equal amounts of this hotel, and you need my approval to ratify any agreements you make with them anyway.”