The orgasm rolls through her as her body releases. And I feel each contraction of her walls. Every. Single. One.
She shouts. She screams. She’s forgotten that Claire and others sit right outside this room.
Good. Very good. I don’t care, so why should she? She’s giving up control, and it spurs me on.
I shove my cock into her one last time, pulling another climax from her as I give in to my own.
Together we soar through the window and over the skyscrapers of Boston. I come hard—as hard as I ever have, maybe harder.
By fucking Skye Manning in my office against my window, her wrists bound in silk.
I’m not in the club. I haven’t bound her body, spanked her, flogged her—none of those things I thought were required for me to come so hard.
All I need is her.
Skye.
Giving her control to me.
I gaze out the window as I relish the high from my orgasm. The colors are so much more vivid. Downtown isn’t gray and brown. It’s silver and gold and bronze, the sun casting luminous rays over the buildings and down onto the cars and passersby below.
Then I look at beautiful Skye, her eyes closed, a contented smile on those beautiful lips. She’s still euphoric. Still in that dreamy haze.
When she finally opens her eyes, I withdraw, panting.
She doesn’t move.
Good. I told her not to.
Finally, I maneuver her so I can loosen the knot and remove my tie from her wrists. Silk can chafe, and I don’t want that. “Okay?”
She nods.
“Tell me.”
“Yes. I’m okay.”
“Good.”
“Braden?”
“Hmm?”
“That was…amazing.”
I nod. “It was.”
“I mean, really amazing. Anyone could have seen us.”
I smile. Sort of. A half smile. A devious smile.
“What?” she asks.
“The windows are tinted on the outside, just like my apartment. We can see out, but no one can see in.”
“Oh.” She frowns slightly.
Is she disappointed? Did the idea that anyone could look up and see us turn her on?
Maybe she’ll be ready for the club sooner rather than later.
“Did you like being bound?” I ask.
“I’m…not sure.”
“You’re not sure? You said yourself it was amazing.”
“I meant the sex.”
“Your wrists being bound was part of the sex.”
“It was everything, though. Being in your office. The unlocked door. The window.”
I gaze intently into her brown eyes still clouded in climactic bliss. “You like to be watched.”
“No, not really. It was more—”
“You just admitted it. You never cease to amaze me, Skye.”
“I guess I never thought about it. It was knowing anyone could walk in. The suspense. It was…”
“Erotic. Erotic and a little frightening because you were taking a risk. Did you like being tied up?” I ask again.
Her already flushed cheeks redden further. “Yes. And being tied up with your tie,” she says.
Good. Very good. Maybe it’s time to entice her with what could come. “Would it surprise you to know I’d like to bind all four of your limbs, have you splayed out, naked, for me to do whatever I want?”
She quivers, and her nipples react by hardening.
She doesn’t want to like the idea, but a part of her does. That part of her that wants to lose control.
“Skye?”
“No,” she says, trembling.
“Good,” I say, “because I want to do all that to you and more. Have you ever been fucked anally, Skye?”
She gulps. “No.”
“Do you remember the instrument I stroked you with while you were blindfolded?”
“Yeah. It felt cool against me.”
“Did you enjoy it?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know what it was?”
“How could I? I was blindfolded.”
I resist a smile. “It was an anal plug.”
“What’s that?”
“A tool. To prepare you for anal sex.”
“Braden, I—”
“Don’t worry. We won’t go there yet. Not until you’re ready.”
She shudders slightly. Anal sex scares her a bit. Not a bad thing. She’ll be well prepared when we finally go there.
“Go ahead and get dressed,” I say, “and we’ll go over your contract.”
Chapter Forty-Three
The contract is straightforward and fair. “I’d sign,” I tell Skye.
“You don’t want to check with an attorney?”
“If it means that much to you, I can run it by someone in legal, but this is small potatoes compared to the stuff I review. Everything is spelled out clearly—your obligations and theirs.”
She nods. “Okay. I trust your judgment, Braden. Thank you.”
“I’m happy to help.”
“Crap,” she says. “I’ve got to get back to the office.”
“You didn’t eat anything.”
“No time. Thanks so much, and again… I’m sor—”
“Stop apologizing, Skye. You’re not sorry you barged in here, and we both know it.”
Her lips curve into a smile that lights up her warm eyes. She kisses me on the cheek. “Bye, Braden.”
After she leaves, my hand wanders to the cheek she kissed.
Odd. It was sweet and chaste. I’m not getting hard from it.
Yet in a way, it means more to me than the fuck we just shared.
…
I spend most of the afternoon in meetings with Ben. Since I returned from New York early, he asked me to sit in, and I was glad to do so. It put my focus back where it should be—on work.
Instead of Skye Manning.
By five, I’m back in my own office. I breathe in. The scent of lust and sex is still thick in the air. Could be my imagination, but whatever it is conjures up images of Skye, her back against my window while I’m frantically pumping into her.