Page 73 of Serving the Mogul

I sighed when I saw the only text was from Dina, and I carried my phone to the bed with me. Sunlight streaming in through the palladium window fell over me, a clear sign it was still far too early for bed, but I didn’t get up. I needed to eat something, stretch out muscles sore from the day’s physical labor.

Heat gathered in my belly as I––once again–– replayed the memories from last night.

What if I push you to your knees right now, tell you to open for me, then push my dick down your throat? If I fuck your mouth until I’m ready to come...

Tightening my hand around the phone, I closed my eyes. I felt my blood pump hotter, faster, and pooling between my thighs, leaving me slick and warm.

I think you might enjoy being punished.

Yeah, that was definitely the case.

I want you to submit and give me everything I ask. If I say get on your knees, then I want you on your knees. If I tell you not to come, then you don’t get to come.

“Fuck that,” I muttered. I clutched the phone in one hand, but my other lay on my belly. Thoughts of James and his raw silk whisper made me push my hand between my thighs, gasping at the wet heat I encountered.

With a moan, I arched up into my touch and stroked my clitoris. It was tight and swollen, so engorged, just a few light touches were almost torture.

My phone rang.

Clamping my knees together reflexively, I lifted my phone.

As James Maximus flashed across the screen, I rolled onto my side. The phone rang again. Not now, James. Panicking, I fumbled with it left-handed, but instead of hitting ignore...I accepted the call.

I honestly don’t know if it was an accident...or if I’d meant to answer while I had my fingers buried in my pussy.

“Tina.” His voice clipped.

A harsh breath escaped me instead of a greeting, and he cleared his throat.

“Are...am I interrupting?”

“Maybe.” Face burning, I squeezed my eyes closed. “I’m not sure.”

“Now I have to ask. Tina, what are you doing?” His voice was a rasp again, and I wondered if he already knew.

My throat dry, I said, “I just took a shower, and I was thinking of you. On my bed, I started remembering everything that happened last night.”

“You’re turned on,” he said, his voice blunt where I kept hesitating.

“Yes.”

“What are you doing? Right now? Tell me.”

Opening my eyes, I stared at the ceiling overhead. “I’m in my bedroom.”

“Have you touched yourself?”

“Yes.” I rocked my hips against my hand. “I’m wet. I’m so, so wet, and I’m empty.”

His breath came out in a rough exhalation.

“I called to ask if I could come over. I need to speak to you. Tell me I can come,” James demanded.

“Come.” My fingers edged against my swollen clitoris, and I whimpered. “Hurry.”

“Is the door locked?”

“Yes. But...” Circling my fingers around the engorged nub, I forced myself to think. “Go to the back. There’s a... ceramic dog with a key inside. The alarm code is 1193. I’m in my bedroom.”