Page 93 of The Bargain

“You never bother me,” I admitted truthfully. “Interrupt me whenever you like.”

Nodding, she walked closer to my desk. She seemed so nervous that it was makingmenervous.

I pushed my chair back from the desk and swiveled toward her.

She stood in front of me, just far enough to be out of reach.

I looked down at her feet and frowned at the stilettos she was wearing. That was so unlike her; she was a ballet or barefoot kind of girl.

“I’ve been here almost two months now,” she said with a sigh, “and I don’t think this bargain is going to work for me anymore.”

The pain I felt at her words was overwhelming. I opened my mouth, only to close it again as nausea hit me at the idea of losing her.

“I don’t need more time, Dean Beaumont. I love you.”

The pressure on my heart eased immediately. “What?” I asked breathlessly.

“I don’t need more time to think. What you did was horrible, but I’ve seen so much good in you, so much love, and I don’t want to be without you, Dean. I love you.”

I blinked in a daze. I had won? I had her? I was about to reach for the box in my drawer when she reached for the knot on her dress and let it fall to the floor.

She was standing in front of me in a red lace lingerie set, leaving nothing to the imagination. She was a vision, a goddess, my good girl who loved being bad. My salvation.

“Am I daydreaming again?”

She shook her head. “No, but do you dream about this often?”

"More often than you’d think."

She gave me a half-smile, trying to shake away her nervousness. She was trying to be brave, my girl. If only she knew how brave she already was. She was probably one of the strongest people I knew. She hadn't let the life she'd led nor the way I'd treated her smother the kindness and love inside of her.

She knelt on the floor in front of me and spread my thighs before sliding in between them.

"What are you doing?" I asked as my dick thickened at what I hoped was coming.

She reached for my belt and undid it. “I’m having a do-over. I've studied a few techniques.”

A pinch of guilt mixed with my overwhelming desire. “You don’t have anything to make up for. I was cruel. I've never come as hard as I did that day.” And that was nothing but the truth.

“I still want to do this.” She unbuttoned my pants and then unzipped them, giving more breathing space to my now hard as steel cock.

Getting my cock out, she swirled her tongue over the tip, making me hiss.

I closed my eyes, resting my head on the back of the chair.

She trailed her tongue up my length a few times, slowly, lavishly as if we had all the time in the world. Wrapping her tongue around the tip of my cock, she made me feel like I was about to blow my load. I used to be able to control myself, but not in her hands, never in her hands.

Running my fingers through her silky hair, I said, “I love you so much.” She finally wrapped her mouth around me. Applying pressure with her tongue, she went down my cock slowly.

My hips bucked up almost involuntarily; she moaned, wanting me to take control. She loved it when I did. It made her wet.

And I loved it when my girl submitted. The thought made me even harder - if it was even possible.

Tightening my hand in her hair, I pressed her head down. I didn’t push hard enough to force myself down her throat, but just enough to show her what I wanted.

Moaning again, she went down as I directed. The more she bobbed her head, the more she increased her suction. I was lost in her warm mouth, but I didn't want to come like this. No, I wanted her to come with me.

“Enough,” I growled, pulling her off my cock.

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