Page 49 of Hired Help

The build of his body is similar. His son is leaner and the work Daegan’s put into building his muscles has altered the shape of his shoulders, but they’re the same height. They both pull my head against their chests in the same way.

It could be Harrison holding me, fingers running through my hair to loosen the tangles. It could be his breath blowing its soft warmth across my cheek. His arms cuddling me closer. His cruelty lurking, ready to break me in two.

I push away from him, straining to get free. “Call that a service?”

Daegan’s powerful hands haul me back into his lap, one of them circling my throat, applying light pressure. “Calm down or I’ll really hurt you.”

I don’t know if that’s because what he intends to do will hurt me more if I’m tense or if it’s a threat to force compliance. “I can’t calm down when you’re choking me.”

“Says someone who’s clearly not choking if she can speak.”

His weight shifts and he eases me onto my stomach, stripping before straddling me as he unwinds my limbs and splays them apart, such care and attention in each detail that my breath catches in my throat.

“Isn’t that better?” His palm caresses my right butt cheek, one leg on my left side, the other pressing between mine, angling them apart. His drags the tip of his nose up the back of my neck, behind my ear, then tilting his head to suck the lobe into his mouth, letting it go with a wet plop.

“You made so much noise in protest yet here you are, dripping wet for me.” His finger slips inside my folds, sliding back and forth, making me wetter, even as I pray for him to leave me alone.

He lets out a heavy breath that’s almost a groan and the sound might as well be a vibrator the way it excites my clit, making me drenched.

I shift my hips and his finger glides past my entrance, inserting to the first knuckle. When I tilt them at a steeper angle, he retreats and I bite the inside of my cheek to stop a cry of protest, unable to do anything to stifle the tremor shaking me, making my thighs twitch, desperate to clench together to stop the escape.

“See? It’s so much better when you just do what you’re fucking told.”

And it’s like the phrase ignites my rage. I twist and turn, trying to buck him off and all I succeed in doing is to make him laugh as his cock grows harder, grows fatter.

Fear coils in my stomach, mixing into its usual cocktail of arousal. “I want to stop.”

“Then use your safe word.”

His hand delves into my hair, getting a grip then savagely tugging it back until the bones of my neck grind together. “But you’d better be sure that’s what you want because you’re the one that forced this. You’re the one who should’ve known better than to come to my door after the stunt you pulled tonight.”

The threat might as well be pinching every erotic spot on my body. I don’t want to lose the effect even as I challenge him, “You said I was in control.”

“You are. That’s why I’m telling you the consequences. If you stop me tonight, that’s it. No more payments. No more service. You want a chance to explain? The only way is to wait until I’m done with you.”

I screw my eyes shut, every cell of my skin reporting back the tangle of sensations from the real world. It’s too much. I’m in overwhelm.

But I don’t want us to end.

“I want to be face up.”

Daegan burrows his head into the side of my neck, and I tense, waiting for the rebuke, but it doesn’t come. Instead, he flips me over, the movement so quick my startled vision takes whole seconds to adjust.

“Is that better, hm?” He straddles me. “Are you going to spread those legs for me?” He drops until his face is an inch from mine, supportive hands either side of my head. “Or are you going to make a bid for time, acting like I don’t know what you’re doing?”

“No, I wasn’t. I just—”

My voice breaks off as he squeezes my jaw, mouth opening like it’s a milk carton. He spits into my mouth again, outwaiting my outraged squeak before he falls on me, kissing me like it’s a punishment, tongue thrusting so deep it might as well be his cock.

Fingers push into me again, two spreading my lips wide while the third bangs me. My mind barely has the chance to wander along the tangent, wondering where someone gets that dexterity, before he pulls back and slaps the top of my thighs. He pulls his mouth away from mine, a long shimmering trail of spittle still binding us together, then he knee-walks down my body while I clamp my thighs together.

The automatic defence system of resistance is the wrong choice. Once my brain finally engages again, I try to reverse it but it’s too late.

“Dealer’s choice, tonight,” he drawls, spreading the fingers of both hands wide across my torso, easily covering the entirety, then stroking my tits, my abdomen, the chunky part of my belly.

I don’t know what he’s going to do next… and it’s everything I need. The fear, the tension, the anticipation.

His knee roughly shoves between my thighs, becoming more forceful as his weight shifts onto it, so much weight I have to spread my legs apart just to stop the pressure. He laughs low in his throat, gripping my thighs with fingers that might as well be a metal vice, hauling them wider until my hips scream and my muscles whine in distress.

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