Page 51 of Devil In A Suit

Okay, I’m a lifelong feminist. I started at six years old when I boxed Jason Appleby in the ear when he told me girls can’t be astronauts, so the man sitting in front of me should be enemy number one, but to my horror, he’s not. I’m not the least bit turned off by his declaration that he’s bought me at all. In fact, his caveman attitude and the thought of being his sex toy tempts me and fills me with a strange and crazy excitement.

It feels more like a challenge. He wants me to give him his money’s worth. Sure. I’ll show him how hot and heavy I can get. This is the most illicit relationship of my life, so why not? Why the hell not?

“All right. Let’s go to bed then,” I say and begin walking towards the entrance, but there is no movement behind me. He isn’t following me. When I turn back, even the mocking smile has vanished from his face. He is dead serious about doing it here. I literally have to give him his money’s worth.

"I’m a real estate agent, not a hooker," I tell him.

His response comes as quickly and brutally as a slap. "And I’m a businessman, not a bank. But you’ve managed to make me one to fit your needs, so I suggest you adjust to mine now or call it quits."

I look at the contract and shake my head. "I can just leave," I say. "You said it yourself—you’re not holding me hostage here. Doing that would be kidnapping."

He crosses his arms, his face smug. "Go ahead. I’m not stopping you."

Smug bastard. I know he’s pushing me, daring me. I glance back at the door. "Muriel might come in at any moment," I say, searching for an excuse.

"I don’t hire stupid people," he replies callously.

That’s that excuse gone. I bite my bottom lip. My heart races as I’m still torn between the instinct to retreat and the inexplicable pull of his magnetic eyes. His gaze is fixed on mine, unwavering and full of that same intensity that always makes me feel exposed like he can see right through me. Every breath feels heavy, every second longer than the last as the air between us grows thick with tension. He’s watching, waiting for my next move.

I walk towards him, all the while holding his gaze. Lowering myself to my knees, I place my hands on his thighs. His eyebrows raise slightly as I silently begin to unbuckle his belt.

My hands tremble slightly, and to hide this, I try to move faster. I have my hand on his zipper, ready to pull it down. I glance up at his face then. His face is deliberately expressionless, and I cannot tell what he is thinking.

I realize I want to surprise him.

For once, I want to see him not be in complete control of everything—of his emotions, of his mood, of his desire. I want to see him under my control, even if it’s just for a moment. Thezipper comes down easily, revealing dark briefs and the hard bulge beneath them. I pause, feeling the tension between us.

"Can you help?" I ask, my voice low.

It takes him a moment to react, his eyes narrowing as he studies me. “Intimidated?”

“A bit,” I confess. “We are strangers, after all.”

He holds my gaze for a moment before reaching into his briefs and pulling his cock out. "We’re strangers?" he repeats, his voice low. "We’re not strangers after last night. I know what you taste like—every aspect of you. Your skin, your tongue, your pussy."

I cannot stop the hot heat rushing up my neck and into my cheeks. Trying to hide it I bend my head and my attention is immediately caught by his cock. I knew it was huge; after all, I felt every bit of it the previous night. But seeing it now, in broad daylight, is an entirely different experience.

He is massive, with a lush pink head and thick veins snaking around the shaft. He’s so hard it looks almost painful, and it makes me realize just how much he wants me, just how intense his desire is for me. I’ve never had such a big dick in my mouth before and I don’t know if he is going to fit inside my mouth.

“Are you going to get to work, or was all this a waste like my entire morning has been?”

Smug asshole! I’m tempted deeply to get up and kick him, but as I look down once again at the gorgeous cock and the need to take him is greater than the need to kick him. I want to taste him so bad I can’t think straight. My mouth waters as I think about what I’m about to do.

My lips hover inches from him. I can feel the heat of his skin. His cock, still hard but pulsing with a vulnerability I’ve never seen from him before, catches my gaze.

With my hand resting on his thigh I brace myself and his body tenses. From the corner of my eyes, I catch the way hisjaw clenches as I wrap my fingers around the hard shaft. He’s solid and thick, and I can feel every throb in those greenish veins against my palm. The anticipation is building inside me as I lean closer, letting my breath brush against him.

I start slow, my lips barely touching the head of his cock.

His breath hitches. Just for a second, but I know I’ve already got him. His I’m the big I am, macho talk was just that. Talk. He will be jelly in my hands. A thrill runs through me, a sense of power that I haven’t felt in a long time. I stretch my lips, taking him in, feeling the velvet heat glide across my tongue. His taste, salty and musky, floods my senses, and I close my eyes as I sink further down, letting him fill my mouth.

He groans a deep, guttural sound that reverberates through my body. His hand slides into my hair, not pulling, just resting on my scalp as if to ground himself.

“That’s it,” he mutters, his voice rough.

I can’t tell if he’s praising or commanding me. The tension in his body is palpable, and it’s intoxicating to know that I’m the one making him feel this way. I swirl my tongue, slow at first, testing his reaction, and when he moans again, low and deep, I feel a surge of satisfaction.

I pull back, letting my tongue trace the ridge of his head, savoring every moment. His fingers tighten in my hair, and I glance up to meet his eyes, finding them dark with hunger. I pause, my lips still touching him, and his gaze locks with mine. That look makes my stomach flip.

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