Page 71 of Love Her

She tilted her head away to give me easier access to her neck, and I was surprised to find she wasn’t wearing a bra.

“Easy access, eh?” I said, looping an arm around her to reach in and hold a breast.

“Only for you,” she said, reaching up to wrap her arms around my neck.

I tweaked one nipple and kept kissing, while I slid my other arm in and down, and discovered that she hadn’t bothered with underwear, either. I pushed a finger between her legs, not into her, just against, to get a sense of how fast we were going, and she pushed her hips against my hand, making the final few inches of the worksuit unzip. In our blurry reflection she looked like a sexual superhero, and I looked like a worshipful villain, and I was entirely okay with that.

“Lemme take this off of you,” I told her, lifting up to take her suit off her shoulders, letting the top half of it fall, so it was only held on by the wide band of elastic around her waist. Then I pulled all of her long auburn hair back, and wound it around my palm.

Lia reacted as though I were kissing her, closing her eyes and giving a slight gasp—andthat’s why we were made for one another, I thought, as I used the instep of my dress shoes to tap her booted feet forward, giving her slack to do so with my arm, but not her hair.

“Hands on the glass,” I said, and she did as she was told, placing them just outside her shoulders. “Now get your tits up there.”

She leaned her chest forward, so that her breasts pressed against the windows, and looked over at me, with her jaw dropped and her eyes bright. I stepped up right behind her, leaning her against the glass, while keeping her face away from it, by virtue of her hair, wrapped like a leash around my hand.

I used my hand to crane her head to the other side. She got the gist, and let me pull her through a one-eighty view.

“You see all that?” I asked her, and felt her nod. “It’s all going to be yours. Not because of your name or your father—but because giving it to you makes me happy.”

She shuddered bodily, and I tightened my grasp on her hair to shut her up. “You’ve already cried enough today. Stop it,” I said, and felt her fight my grip to try and nod. “Now shove your pants down, Miss Ferreo,” I commanded, reaching my other hand down to undo my belt buckle. “Let’s give the city you own a show.”

38

LIA

Once upon a time, I’d told Rhaim he couldn’t torture me into mental health—but as I was pressed naked against the skyscraper glass in my father’s building, I realized there was a good chance he could fuck it into me.

I dropped my hands and shimmied the bottom half of the worksuit down to my knees—and felt Rhaim’s dick ride between my legs a moment later, sawing between my thighs, without going into me.

He made a sound behind me like a growl. It melted another weighted piece of my soul, letting it fly free, and I tried to bow my head—but he wouldn’t let me.

“I don’t want anyone to see your face,” he whispered roughly in my ear.

“You made it sound like no one was looking?” I asked, more curious than annoyed.

“Yeah, but, what’s the point if they’re not?” he said, while grabbing my hips with one hand to tilt them.

I rose up on my toes and he slid in, all at once, all of the hard, hot, heat of him. I moaned, and he made a sound as if to agree.

“Lean forward. Carefully. And gimme your wrists. Back here,” he said, snapping his free hand behind me. I placed them between us, and was surprised when he moved them to line up side-by-side and then engulfed them with his hand, like a handcuff.

That…sent me.

I didn’t know where.

Just all of a sudden, I needed a forwarding address.

I was trapped again, yes, but for once in my life it was because I was choosing to be—and I heard him give a dark chuckle. “Oh, little girl, we haven’t evenstartedthat journey,” he said, and then he thrust up, while holding me back, hair and wrists, making the skin of my breasts catch against the glass.

That…hurt. Some. But the rest of everything was good. Especially the part where I wasn’t thinking. Because at some point in time in the last thirty seconds I’d become incapable of thought—I felt all the stress of who I was, and where I was, and what I was supposed to do melting away, as his dick sawed it out of me, stroke by stroke.

It wasn’t that I didn’thaveany meaning.

It was some fucking—literally—zen alternative where I didn’tneedmeaning anymore.

All I needed was to keep being used.

Just.

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