Page 80 of Bad Enough

“Shh, lovely. Too many clothes in the way. I want to see you.” He turned her so that they exchanged places with her closest to the fireplace, and then he backed her up until she was directly in front of the flames. Once she was firmly on her feet, he pulled the desk chair to the edge of the area rug, turning it perpendicular to her desk and just on the front line of the firelight, and sat in the chair. “Start with your shirt. Let it slide down your shoulders and pool on the floor.”

Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, I’m going to faint.

Straightening her spine, she worked to hold back the shudder of anticipation. Sylvan’s fingers trembled as, without question, she did as she was told. She raised her fingertips to the silk lapels of the silk overshirt, then drew them slowly up and over her shoulders, letting it slide down her back to around her feet on the floor, revealing the designer loungewear. Her arms drifted back down to her sides.

He leaned back in the chair, his elbow on the arm, his head propped up by his thumb and forefinger. His face was expressionless. She noticed that he had picked up her hair clip with his other hand and was playing with it while he watched her. “Remove your corset.”

Reaching behind herself at the waist, Sylvan slipped loose the double knot and gently pulled at each juncture of the ribbons. Then she unhooked each hook on the front, top to bottom, slowly, until it was completely undone. The boned garment dropped to the floor with a barely-there thud. Her body felt abnormal, being so unrestricted. Her nipples beaded at the lace abrasion of the blouse she had worn under the corset. Despite the areas of opaque embroidery, she knew it would be obvious to him, even in the low light.

“Very good. Now…” He shifted in the chair to sit up straight. “Your trousers.”

Sylvan reached to her hip and slid the side zipper on the pants down. With a tilt of each hip, she pushed the waist over her hips and let them slither down her legs to pool at her feet with the rest of her clothing. She was left in a long-sleeved lace blouse, her heeled slippers, and completely at his mercy.

29

JUNE 17TH

TB

This woman. She has no idea the power she has.

TB moved in his seat, adjusting his cock in his jeans. It took everything in him not to groan aloud. He could not screw this up. This was going to be his most delicate operation and clearly his most important ever.

“Unbutton your blouse, but do not take it off. Just leave it hanging open.”

He watched her stutter through his instruction. First, her weight shifted from her left foot to her right foot. Then something changed. She paused. He watched her stiffen her spine with determination as her hands rose to the mother-of-pearl buttons. Buttons undone, she allowed the material to gap open as directed and dropped her hands to her sides.

Knew you were smart, princess.

At first, she wouldn’t have realized, but as her adrenaline evened out, her brain would have put together the pieces with the position in which he put them in relation to the flames. She now knew that all he could truly see from this distance was a glow along her edges. He had done that on purpose. He wanted to push her boundaries but do so while empowering her. He knew that with all of her research and with all he had taught her before they met in person, she would understand. In this way, she had control and the freedom to experience without feeling threatened.

And then she did the unexpected. She walked toward him and kneeled in front of him, her hands on her thighs, her eyes downcast.

Closing his eyes, he swallowed hard, breathing in deeply through his nose, then expelling through his open lips. The rapid rise and fall of her chest, the slight tremble in her shoulders showed she was nervous but not afraid.

Opening his eyes, he stood, reaching for his gun at his back. He pulled it from his waistband and laid it on her desk.

His large hand cupped the side of her face. “Look at me, princess,” he commanded.

Her eyes rose to his from her position in front of him. The tip of her tongue swiped between her lips.

“Unbuckle my belt and remove it.”

Her hands shakily rose to the buckle. She slipped the excess length through the buckle, pried the tab from the hole, slid it out of the way, and then released the rest of the leather from the buckle. Her left hand rested flat on his hip, and with her right, she pulled the strap free of his belt loops. When it had cleared his body, she stretched it straight between her two hands and held it before her on her upturned palms.

His hand caressed the top of her head, down the side, and cupped her cheek.

“Keep your eyes on mine at all times.” He took the belt from her hands and laid it on the edge of her desk behind him. “Take out my cock.”

He watched her chest expand with a heavy inhale that was nothing close to fear and all about arousal.

Eyes locked to his, still on her knees, her fingers reached for the button on his jeans. It slid easily from its slot; then, she used the thumb and forefinger of her left hand to lower the metal zipper at a pace he could only describe as agonizing. She didn’t smile. Didn’t blink, as far as he could tell. Just held his eyes, suddenly in complete control of her actions.

Once his zipper reached its lowest point, she raised herself off of her heels to kneel in a straight-up position. She reached down into the denim to find his cock. He heard a soft gasp as she realized he was bare beneath the material. She recovered quickly, her hand cool against his skin. When her fingertips grazed his flesh, he felt himself twitch slightly. It was already hard, but now it felt like it was swelling beyond normal. As if she could feel the cool, jagged metal against her own sensitive skin, she dragged his jeans down an inch so that he didn’t rub against the zipper.

Her fingers slid around his cock, the tips of her fingers unable to circle him completely. He wasn’t outrageously huge, but definitely not small. Her grip was strong and sure but gentle enough that when she removed him from inside the material, he didn’t feel scrapes or rasps of the zipper teeth because she kept her hand wrapped around the root to protect him.

This meant that his cock was pointed straight at her very fuckable mouth.

---