Because You Are Mine (Because You Are Mine #1)(74)
Author: Beth Kery

She held his cock in her hand a moment later, studying it with fascination. He was as soft as she’d ever seen him. A wave of tenderness and lust swept through her at the vision of him, at the sensation . . . at his male scent filtering into her nose. Within seconds, she felt him stiffen, saw him lengthen and thicken.

Amazing.

She closed her eyes and slid him into her mouth, wanting to feel him grow harder there. Oh, I like this, she thought as a haze of desire surrounded her. When she took him into her mouth before he was fully erect, she could swallow more of him. Her head bobbed in his lap as she became more enthusiastic. His cock swelled, stretching her squeezing lips wide. She thrilled as his fingers ran through her hair, and then spread across her skull. In the distance, she heard him say, “Uh . . . what was that, Michael? Yes, just price out the two scenarios.”

He was fully tumescent now, filling her mouth . . . overfilling it, his hand on the back of her head gripping into her hair, using his hold to gently guide the rhythm. She began to use her hand in tandem with her mouth, stroking the thick stalk upward as she slid him out of her mouth, fisting it strenuously in a downward motion as she sunk down again over his cock.

He made a muted choking sound and coughed.

“Uh . . . yes, do me a favor Michael, and just get me the price scenarios for a ten-year bond issuance and a twenty. I’ll make a decision when I see all the data. Yes, that’s all for now, thank you.”

She was vaguely aware of his phone dropping to the couch cushion. She looked up at him, his cock embedded at half-staff in her mouth.

“Don’t give me that innocent look,” he murmured, using his hold on her hair to move her up and down on the staff of his cock, controlling her. “You knew exactly what you were doing, didn’t you? Didn’t you?” he asked more firmly even as he encouraged her to move faster. She nodded and hummed an affirmation. He hissed. “You make it your goal to torture me, Francesca.”

She sucked with all her might and shook her head slightly. He gasped.

“No need to deny the obvious, lovely,” he said, his voice growing rough.

She moaned feverishly, losing herself in the magic of giving him pleasure.

She took him into her throat. He hissed in pleasure and then pulled up on her hair, demanding she suck him fast and shallow. She pumped with her fist, avid to please him, wild to feel him succumb, desperate to taste him. He pushed her head down on him, and she took him into her throat again, her nostrils flaring for air. His hips lifted slightly off the couch, and he gasped. His restrained moan became a growl as he began to come. She felt him swell huge, her eyes going wide as he began to ejaculate, bypassing her gag reflex by coming directly in her throat.

He backed out after only a second or two, plunging back and forth between her clamping lips, emptying himself onto her tongue.

After a moment, his tight grip on her hair loosened as he massaged her scalp. His big, solid body slumped into the couch cushions. She slid him out of her mouth with a wet popping noise.

“You deserve a pink ass for that,” he said, watching her with a narrow-eyed gaze as she licked her lips of his residue. She saw his small smile and returned it. He hardly looked angry. More like a well-pleased, utterly satiated male.

“Are you going to give me one?” she asked, a shiver of excitement going through her.

“Without a doubt. You’re going to get a good paddling. I can’t have you distracting me while I do business, Francesca,” he murmured, his actions belying his words as he stroked her hair with one hand and caressed her cheek with the other, his manner tender. Cherishing. She couldn’t help but feel that he’d quite enjoyed being distracted.

“Go into the bathroom and put on a robe,” he said.

She stood and followed his instructions, her pulse fluttering at her throat. When she reentered the suite a few minutes later, she paused at the sight of Ian waiting for her, wearing only a pair of pants, his muscular, ridged torso bare.

“Follow me,” he said, taking her hand. Her eyes widened when she saw him extricate the keys from his briefcase.

“What I did wasn’t that bad, was it?” she asked anxiously as he unlocked the room where he said she’d receive her more severe punishments.

“You compromised my ability to think rationally while I was making a business decision,” he mused as he led her into the inner chamber and closed the door behind them, locking it.

He led her over to the tall stool she’d noticed on her first night in the room, the one that was situated before the balletlike bar on the wall and was curved unusually at the back. The front of it was normal enough, like a half circle. But the rear of it dipped inward, as if a crescent of the circle had been cut out. Ian left her and went over to the cherry cabinet, opening a drawer. She studied the stool, puzzled and increasingly excited. When she saw that Ian carried the jar of clitoral stimulant and the black leather paddle, her sex clenched tight.

He watched her face intently a moment later as he rubbed the cream on her clit.

“I’m going to give you fifteen good whacks. You deserve more for what you did.”

Her cheeks heated with defiance and arousal. “You were hardly complaining.”

His stern mouth twitched at that.

“Sit down on the stool, your face toward the wall,” he commanded. She did so, staying forward on the chair in order to avoid the crescent cutout at the back of the stool. “Scoot back so that your bottom falls over the edge. Lean forward and put your hands on the bar. That’s right.”

A rush of realization went through her as she leaned over and gave the bar her upper body weight and her ass fell over the edge of the chair into the cutout. The cream started to make her clit burn as she watched in the mirror as Ian moved behind her, the black leather paddle gripped in his large hand.

Oh, no. Her bottom was utterly exposed and vulnerable . . . and right at the perfect location for his swinging arm.

Whack.

A whimper popped out of her throat at the quick sting and the lingering burn.

“Shhh,” Ian soothed, turning the paddle and rubbing her ass with the fur. “Too much?”

“I can take it,” she said breathlessly.

He caught her gaze in the mirror and smiled.

He swung his arm back and landed another smack, and then another. This time, he used his hand to soothe her bottom, caressing her and gently squeezing each buttock in his palm.

“It’s too bad you have such a gorgeous ass,” he muttered as he watched himself stroke her.