Page 19 of Power Play
I'm completely in control of my diet, my workout regime, my career. But to be able to set all of those aside and let someone else take control? Fuck, that sounds amazing.
He expertly undoes my jeans and peels them and my undies from my body. I'm grateful. I wasn't expecting a hook-up tonight, so I'm wearing my utilitarian Target-special cotton panties. But I get the feeling he wouldn't care either way. In another beat, In another beat, he peels my shirt and my bra off of me.
This isn't about me seducing him. Or him seducing him. This is about two people with carnal needs and a basic understanding.
He pauses to take in my naked body. For a moment, I'm insecure. He's so much older than me, so much more famous, so much more... everything. He could have any woman in the world. What the hell is he doing with me?
But when I take in the hungry look on his face, I know he won't be walking away. He wants me just as badly as I want him.
His hand unceremoniously grabs my sex. I'm used to Ben's lingering kisses, the way he builds me up kiss by kiss, careful and tender.
Ward does none of that. My pussy is his goal, and he's going to take it.
He plays with my clit a moment with his thumb before he lowers his mouth and licks me from back to front. He nips my clit with his teeth, causing me to jump slightly off the couch.
He repeats his ministrations, alternating between thrusting his tongue into my entrance and licking me, but with just enough attentionto my clit, I'm almost there. I grab the back of his head, fully ready to shove his face into my cunt to finish the job... but he pulls away.
An anguished cry erupts from my chest, but when I look up at him, he's simply smiling down on me.
"Don't worry, I've got you."
Whether it's the moment, the hours of working together, or the sheer confidence radiating out of him, I believe him.
He sheds his pants before looking at them with disapproval.
"Fuck," he whispers.
I lean up on my elbows. "What's wrong?"
"I normally have a condom in my wallet, but I didn't bring one this trip."
"I'm on the pill? And I'm clean?" I whisper, almost afraid to break whatever this is.
His dark gaze stares into mine. He's looking for the deception, the trick, or the truth.
He lifts me up by the armpits and before I know what he's doing he's turned me, and slammed me, naked, against the windows. I yelp. We're high up, and the windows are insulated, but the cold on my breasts and nipples fights against the warmth of my muscles and core.
"Let's let all of Vancouver see how well you take my fucking cock," Scott grinds out. He enters me in one swift, brutal, stroke, and I cry out. I think that the windows are tinted, but the idea of someone down below, in the street, seeing this, has my heartrate spiking, and my pussy clenching. I don't think I have an exhibitionists streak, but maybe I do?
As if he's set out to prove a point, one of Scott's hand wraps around my neck while the other wraps around the back of my knee. The handon my knee lifts my leg so it's completely bared to the street, while the hand around my throat restricts my movements.
His fingers dig into my neck, stifling the blood flow. I start to get light headed, but I trust that he knows what he's doing. He wouldn't be the cause of my death, right? And he's old enough to know what he's doing. I submit completely to his ministrations.
And if I die? What a way to go.
He thrusts into me with a rhythm and a ferocity I've never experienced before. I'm a rag doll and he's my master. And I fucking love it. My brain quiets, and my body relaxes, eager to be whatever it is he wants to use me for.
His thrusts drive me against the glass, every movement sending shockwaves through me. I'm going to come, and it's the most intense orgasm I'll have ever had.
The hand on my neck comes to the back of my other knee, lifting it. I'm now completely off the ground and I brace myself against the window with my hands. His thrusts become a brutal attack on my G-spot.
"Come on, baby, let's show Vancouver who owns this cunt."
I whimper.
Fuck, I love that, and I want more of that. I want to be his plaything. I want to not matter to anyone. I want to be nothing but a vessel of pleasure. Scott doesn't give a shit about Lacey the PT right now. He's chasing his pleasure, and I'm the one to give it to him.
It's a strange dichotomy of emotions. I'm weak because he's using me, but powerful because I'm the one to make him lose control. I'm at his mercy, but I know without a shadow of a doubt if I said 'stop' hewould. I'm an easy lay for him, but I know he doesn't fool around a lot.
