Page 18 of Broken Headboards
In one picture, she’s bent over assembling a pink chaise lounge chair, stitching the hem of the velvet fabric together.
I zoom in, admiring the way her body is positioned. The simple jeans and t-shirt she’s wearing hugs her curves in a way I didn’t know was possible. I thought the dress she was wearing tonight captured my attention, but even in this simple attire, I find myself aching to touch her.
My dick pulsates, adopting its own rhythmic heartbeat. And I take a hardy gulp of my whisky, needing to distract myself from her and that impeccable body.
I press on another file of hers, a showcase of some sort, and a slideshow pops up. I hit the next arrow to move through the pictures and because I can’t help myself, I’m glued to how her body floats through a room, positioning herself from one piece to the next.
Each of the designs are similar but the architecture differs slightly, the curves of each piece are either soft and delicate or sharp and pointed. It’s fitting, really, it matches her personality to a tee. She has a softness to her that’s only detectable when you push hard enough. I’m learning that’s all you have to do with her, you have to work around the hard-edged persona she puts on—that is, if she allows you to.
But come one, it’s me. It’ll only be a matter of time before I get her permission.
I continue to study her designs, but I keep finding my eyes lingering over her frame and not the furniture.
I admit, I’m impressed with her pieces. She has a flair about her that I know is desirable to many clients, like the bigger clients she’s worked with. But I can’t keep looking away from her and remembering how she adjusted her ass in the seat across from me.
Fuck it.
I’m not going to be able to sleep if I don’t get rid of this fucking aching rod in my pants. I’m surprised it hasn’t shot off into space already given the torture I’ve put it through tonight.
I find myself staring at a picture of her smiling, shaking hands with some nobody, and I grab my dick, envisioning her hand wrapped around me.
“Oh fuck,” the sudden grip of my hand jerks my hips up and the images of her kneeling over her furniture motivates my wrist.
I stroke my length up and down, replaying the way she talked about furniture, about leather and myrawpieces.
“Yes…” I squeeze harder, wanting it to be her pussy swallowing my dick.
I squeeze my eyes shut, producing a highlight reel of her and that hemline, the tight blue dress, and that smooth, quick tongue.
It travels down the side of my cock, licking up the droplets of pre-cum dripping down my shaft.
“Fuck…” I stroke faster, my muscles starting to tense from the friction and my speed. I’m going to fucking explode. After everything I’ve put my cock through tonight, it is not going to take any prisoners. I’m almost thankful no one is here to take the load, who knows what I’m capable of after Tess.Almost.But, I’ve already blinded a woman with my cum already, I can’t imagine what it could do now.
I open my eyes and they fall on the image of her in a tight white dress, kneeling down to highlight a small trinket molded onto a side table. She’s smiling and it’s her eyes that do me in.
My body tenses and I start to quiver, feeling my orgasm rush through me.
“Holy fuck,” I groan. “Ahhh!”
Cum jets out of me, showering the square footage of my office floor. It creates a milky-white mess that I’m sure the housekeeper is going to have a field day with.
I lean my head back on the chair and sigh heavily, feeling a wave of relief mixed with dread washing over me.
This woman could be my undoing, but I have to do everything in my power to stop her.
She might be gorgeous, and she might able to rile me up like no other woman has before, but she’s my competitor and that’s something I don’t take lightly.
I slam my laptop shut and finish my whisky, the liquid burning my throat and numbing my nerves.
I get an email just then from my assistant, Miranda. “DominaDesigns” it’s titled. She's started doing opposition research.
I open the attachment in curiosity.
And, of course, the first thing I see is a picture of fucking Tess in that fucking gorgeous white dress.
Shit.
She is going down.
But first, I need to take a fucking cold shower.
