Hostile Takeover Hill, W (thriller books to read .txt) 📖

She twitched, made a small noise. He stopped, glanced at her, and she stilled again.

Giving an approving nod, he continued, taking them down to her feet. “Step out of them.”

When she did, he set them aside. Now she was wearing only the snug sleeveless turtleneck and her garter belt and stockings, framing her bare sex. In the mirror over the sink she saw the silver glint of the clit jewelry against her pale skin. It was a barbell with a slender chain dipping from each of the ends, a faint tease to her clit and labia when she moved, though of course she hadn’t needed the additional stimulus today.

Ben sat back on his heels, studying her. She dared a glance down at him, the strong face, those brilliant green eyes, the dark hair falling over his forehead. He had such a strong face, a solid jaw, the slope of his cheek bones beautifully sculpted. He was everything a man should look like. Even the casual power of his pose, resting on one heel, arm on his thigh, the other reaching out now. She bit her lip as he touched that tiny chain, his thumb and forefinger pinching it, giving it a tug. She closed her eyes at the sensation. God, she’d just climaxed, and yet her body was so attuned to him, so hungry.

She had damp tracks on her inner thighs, her labia wet from her climax. Given his focus there now, she expected he was going to wipe away the come from her thighs with the other paper towel. Instead, he put his hands on her hips, shifted forward and put his mouth there instead.

She sucked in a gasp. He hadn’t told her to widen her stance. In fact, his hands tightened, holding her still as he licked his way up to her pussy. Then he was on it, suckling away her juices, teasing her labia and clit as he cleaned her in a deliberately functional way, indulging a Master’s desire to taste his toy while she stood still and suffering, aching for him. She kept her lips pressed together tight but couldn’t help the pleas in her throat, the involuntary twitches from the stimulus to over-sensitized skin.

At last, he sat back. Only then did he use the paper towel, rubbing her dry, letting her feel the stroke of his fingers through it. Lightheaded, she swayed, and he put his hand back on her hip, steadying her.

“Don’t lock your knees.”

She’d forgotten, but he’d noticed. He noticed everything. Now he eased her down to a sitting position on the couch, perching her on the end of it so her pussy was exposed to the cool air. “Spread your legs, Marcie. Put your hands behind you, straighten your back, then I want you to meet my gaze.”

He rose, moved back to the sink while she obeyed. Lifting her gaze was more difficult than expected. He hadn’t even taken off his clothes, while she was half naked, the bottom half, which was a far more vulnerable feeling than topless. He was leaning against the sink, watching her. His cock was a thick root against the restraint of his slacks, making her wet her lips. She’d of course seen men get aroused, but not to such obvious thickness, and not with the complete lack of self-consciousness he had about it. He’d given her a climax, but taken nothing for himself. She wanted to service him the way a slave should, sucking his cock until he had his own release.

When he’d taken her collar, he’d said A slave doesn’t collar herself. He even understood that about her. Yes, she was a submissive, but in her mind she preferred the far more stark and aggressive term of slave. Myriad definitions in the D/s world for each status didn’t matter to her. It was what he meant when he said it, and the way it made her feel. His.

“My brain might be in my cock, Marcie, but my eyes aren’t.”

She brought her gaze up to his, reluctantly. His lips twisted, seeing it. If things were different, if he truly accepted her as his, she knew he would have dished out some punishment for the infraction, minor as it was. Ben was the kind of Master who didn’t let anything slide. She hungered for that, loved the idea of that kind of structure, safety. She craved the sharp edge of his discipline enough to challenge that side of him, again and again. But right now, she had enough to do controlling her own body. Her knees wouldn’t stop quivering, no matter how much she tried to make them do so. She wasn’t sure they’d ever support her weight again.

“How did you know about me? About us?” he asked.

To pull it together and answer him, she imagined she was in a meeting, being asked for a report. It wasn’t easy in this setting, but she let familiar practice guide her. “Once Lucas and Cass got together, I picked up on things, but I always knew, in a way.”

He was still waiting. She hadn’t answered the question fully, so she backtracked a few steps. It was truly odd to do this naked, and right after a climax besides. Like a surreal Penthouse letter. She quelled a strange hiccup of laughter at the thought.

“My passion’s always been investigation, research.” And you, but she didn’t add that. “I’m freelancing a couple cases for Pickard Consulting now.” She moistened her dry lips again. “You remember, I was studying K&A, how you all do things, when I was in middle school. As I went along, I also read the social blogs, picked up hints. Things others would miss. Then at home…as I said, I noticed things. Really subtle, because Lucas and Cass were pretty discreet, given all the kids. But because of what I am…I picked up on it.”

It was like hearing a song she knew, over and over. One day she’d put together all the clues, found the name of it.

She saw