Page 13 of Agency
“Well, you know you’ve already given me what most men can’t. Why not just cut our losses and leave on a high note?”
“But…” Trailing off, he cleared his throat, and his eyes knowingly glanced down to where mine had just been. That clearly hadn’t been the answer he’d been expecting, or hoping for.
“What if,” I began, my mouth curling into a smile as I continued, “I just got up and walked away? Would you just go back to your room and finish without me?”
He nearly blushed as I repeated his words back to him, and a look of something almost like shame passed over his face like clouds across the sun on a summer day.
“What?” I asked, dropping my hand down to his thigh and sliding up the inside. As I did, my gaze caught and held his. “Don’t like it when it’s being pulled on you?” I stopped my fingers fractions of an inch away from his bulging cock, so close I could feel the heat and blood pumping into and swelling his length.
Oh my, he was even bigger than I remembered. Not massive like a porn star, or anything like that. But probably big enough to make most women, or men for that matter, happy. Given a few hours, I could have him drained and begging for more, and have him willing to do anything I wanted.
“It’s fun to tease, but not to be teased?” I continued. “Is that it?”
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he dry-swallowed, and then he sucked in a sharp breath as my fingers slid over him. Taking a page from his own playbook, I slid two of my fingers up and down his length, reading him through the thick twill cloth of his pants. Every vein, every ridge, even the slight curve of his cock.
“Cat got your tongue?” I whispered as I slid all the way up his length, nearly to the base, before encompassing him as much as I could with my palm and grazing his heavy sack with my nails.
“Sorry,” he said, his voice low and husky.
“About not being able to speak… Or…?”
“About teasing you.”
“Don’t apologize. That was fun.”
“It was?”
“I just came in your arms, Morgan,” I said with a chuckle. “Do I need to spell out for you what that means?”
Another near-blush, and then he was reaching for his beer. Before he could grab the bottle, though, I was gently squeezing his cock and drawing him up short. He looked to me, eyebrow raised.
“No,” I said. “I want you sober.”
“Because…?”
“Because, if you come up to my room, there’s one condition.”
“That I’m sober?”
“No, that you do what I say. You’re mine for tonight.” If only to emphasize my next point, I returned to stroking him through his pants leg. “Don’t worry. I’ll make it more than worth your while. You might never see me again after tonight, but you’ll always remember me.”
“You’re actually serious?”
“I’m serious.” Still, my hand stroked, promised…
“What are you going to do if I feel suddenly like not being owned for the night?” he asked, a smile creeping to the corner of his mouth.
“Owned… I like that. And, I’m not worried, because you won’t.” I bit my lower lip as I watched his smile fade. Fuck me, that was somehow hotter than sin to watch. “I watched you play pool, remember?”
“And?” His voice was flat, but I could still hear the arousal and want in that single word.
“You threw the game and paid your losses just to come talk to me, nearly breaking a man’s arm in the process. You keep your word, and you don’t wiggle out of it. If you say you’ll do what I tell you to, you will, as long as I respect the terms of our agreement.”
“And those terms?”
“You’ll have a safe word. If something makes you uncomfortable, or is too painful, you can say ‘banana’ and I’ll stop.” I reached for the olives in my martini, lifted the skewered bar garnish. “But, don’t worry. There won’t be pain. I’m not big on that kind of thing.”
“No pain? What will there be, then?”
