Page 23 of Filthy Mouth
“You do realise that our names will be linked in public?”
“Do you think I give a damn what people think or say about me?”
He chuckled. It was warm and throaty. Why was everything about this man so damn appealing?
“I’m game to give them a show if you are.”
“Perfect. Thank you, Daddy. I will see you at the bar.”
“I look forward to making you pay. Be a good girl until then, Poppy.”
I grinned.
“Sure. Bye, Daddy,” I said, and hung up.
I had a feeling I’d enjoy Benedict’s brand of punishment. I’d already spent far too much time online researching BDSM dynamics and furnishing options. This project was unlike any other I’d taken on. Staying impartial would be impossible when all I could picture was the countless ways we could make use of his newly refurbished den of iniquity.
This would be a fun six months, and I intended to enjoy every filthy second of it.
??????
The lace hold-ups rubbed together as I took my drinks to the same table that I’d sat at the last time I was at the bar. The sensation only made me anticipate tonight even more. I sat down with my tequila shot and tequila sunrise. Drinking on an empty stomach wasn't advisable, but the day’s nervous energy got the better of me. I was torn between excitement and nerves. In the end, I’d left work early to get some liquid courage in me. Daydreaming about his one-eyed, veiny monster cock had been counterproductive.
I was sucking on the lemon wedge after my slammer when Benedict arrived. The sound and air around me seemed to disappear. He stared at my lips, and I pulled the lemon wedge out.
He was early.
His hand lifted to tuck his hair behind his ear before his eyes dropped to my drinks. He smiled and turned to the bar. I wiped my hand from where I licked the salt and wondered how long he’d been standing there.
He was dressed in yet another immaculate suit—plain black this time, the label a mystery. But the cut… tailored sharp enough to make a man look lethal.
When he came to the table carrying a tray of tequila shots and his whiskey, I couldn’t stop my smile from curling.
“Hello, Princess. I hope you can show me how you take your tequila shot again,” he said, settling opposite me. His eyes were already on my mouth.
Princess Poppy. I liked the way it sounded—a stark contrast to the cold derision in my family’s voices when they said my name. It wasn’t until I’d moved out that I’d truly realised how much they despised me.
“Your wish is my command, Daddy.” I leaned forward, letting my tongue drag slowly over the side of my hand, glistening the skin before reaching for the salt. His gaze dipped lower, and I knew he wasn’t thinking about tequila anymore—he was picturing that same wet heat wrapped around him, taking him deep.
I pressed the salt to my tongue, slow enough for him to watch every flicker of movement, then tipped the shot back in one smooth pull. The burn hit my throat, but I didn’t break eye contact as I slid the lime between my lips, biting down and sucking the juice until his knuckles went white around his glass.
When his hand slid under the table, I almost jumped. He leaned closer, his fingers travelling higher, and I did what anyone would do in my situation—I parted my legs as far as my skirt would allow.
He hissed when his fingertips reached the lace tops of my stockings.
“My dirty girl,” he murmured, taking a slow sip of his drink before setting the glass down.
One hand gripped the edge of the table while the other found my pussy. The lace was already damp. I licked my lips as his dark eyes flared hotter.
“Wait until I get you home,” he said, pulling back at last.
The teasing wasn’t as satisfying when the tables were turned. I leaned back in my chair, slid my foot under the table, and pressed it between his legs. Then I reached for another shot, meeting his gaze with a silent dare.
He smirked and pulled my shoe off before gripping my ankle and pulling his chair in until I felt his hard cock beneath my foot. The heat of him burned through the fabric, a silent warning of what I’d be dealing with later. I closed my eyes.
Round one to him.
Chapter 11
