Page 14 of Praise Me: Pilot
Trepidation slithers into my middle. I’m getting closer and closer to this man who lied to me, in the same profession as my father. And he’s yet another man who is trying to keep me at a distance. Isn’t he?
Ignoring the whisper in my head telling me Joel is better, different…kind ofwonderful, I remind myself of my plan, wipe away my tears and sit up in his lap. “Actually, I think charades sounds like a fun idea.” I slide off his lap onto the floor at his feet. “I’ll go first.”
It’s not hard to slip back into seduction mode when I look up at him from the floor. He’s six foot three inches of hard, lean male. A more powerful build than I’ve ever seen in real life. Thick, sturdy thighs. Shoulders for days. A posture that proclaims him a watchful and capable king. I can still feel the sting of the spanking he gave me down in the lobby, brief though it was. I loved it. I loved him touching me in public to warn off the other men. I loved his hand locked around my throat earlier at the lake.
He can comfort me, soothe me, stand up for me…
But he has a darker side, too, doesn’t he?
It’s time once again to coax it to the surface.
And succeed with my plan to solve my daddy issues, once and for all.
I turn sideways in front of Joel and fall forward on my hands and knees. “Movie.”
“You’re…”—his Adam’s apple rises and falls—“going to act out a movie title?”
“That’s how charades works, isn’t it?” I sing, sliding my knees wide on the carpet and tilting my hips up as far as they’ll go. My skirt is so short, I know my entire backside is on display, along with the black silk strip of my thong. I shake my bottom a little under his unholy regard, watching his hand clench the arm of the couch, the bulge rising to prominence once again between his legs. Watching him closely, I jolt forward with a whimper, as if there is a man thrusting into me from behind. The way I’ve seen it done on the few occasions I’ve watched porn. I do it again, again, again, pretending to be taken roughly from behind, crying out, making myself sopping wet in the process.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he pants, raggedly, rubbing his sex through his fly. “Are you acting out a porn?”
“No,” I answer innocently, taking another imaginary thrust, squealing in my throat. “It’s a feature film, silly. Take a guess.”
“Stop.”
“Nope, that’s not it.”
“Haylo.”
“Fine. It’sDeep Impact. Haven’t you seen that one?” I climb to my feet, though my legs are decidedly unsteady. Whose wouldn’t be when this man is visibly leashing himself from pouncing? He’s going to do a lot more than spit on me this time. I can sense it. He just needs another push or two. “I’ll do another one,” I announce smoothly, holding his gaze while I slowly, slowly slide my thong off from beneath my skirt, stepping out of it and leaving it on the floor. His eyes are already pure black by the time I strip off my tank top, revealing my bare breasts, perked nipples that are still red from his treatment earlier tonight. “Any guesses yet?” I purr, turning around to face the opposite wall, reaching back to lower the rear zipper of my skirt, tossing my hair to look back at him when I let it fall.
Absorbing his visceral reaction to seeing me fully naked for the first time.
Hungrily, those golden eyes race over my curves, the supple swells of my backside, the shadowed valley in between. His fist is bobbing inside of his pants now, masturbating to my naked body, and slickness pools among my flesh seeing him like this. In pain over me. Overwhelmed by what I’m doing to his sex.
“No guesses?” I breathe, turning around to give him a full frontal—and he grits his teeth, growling loud enough to be heard at the opposite end of the hallway. “It’sStriptease. Don’t you remember that one? With Demi Moore.”
“Cover that pussy up before Ibiteit.”
Goosebumps lift all over my arms, neck, my tummy constricting with excitement of the unknown. Is it supposed to be bitten? Will I like that? “One more movie. If you can’t guess it…” I fall onto my knees in the V of his outstretched legs, skimming my palms up his big thighs, listening to him hiss like a tea kettle when I reach his belt, unbuckling it without breaking eye contact. Next, I pop the top button and his head falls back on a shudder, giving me a nice view of the corded muscles straining in his throat.
“Don’t do it, Haylo,” he says, ripping his hand out of his waistband, slapping both of them over his face. Dragging them downward. “Fuck, angel.” His hips seem to lift involuntarily, that ridge growing right in front of my face. “Please don’t break me like this.”
“I’m just playing charades,” I murmur lightly, leaning in to rub my lips against his covered shaft. Even through the material, I can feel the veins of his enormous staff pulsing, pulsing. Reaching back to gather my hair in a single fist, give his zipper a long, slow lick, easing back slightly to mimic a blow job. Bobbing my parted mouth up and down, up and down, without making contact with his lap causes him to release a series of curses, butI look him in the eye like a dutiful angel and keep going. “Guess the movie.”
“Blow,” he says through his teeth.
I beam up at him. “Yes!”
I’m flat on my back before another second ticks by. Naked on the living room floor of Joel’s hotel room and he’s straddling my face, unzipping his pants with shaky hands.
“Don’t you dare look up at me wide eyed and innocent now, young lady. You asked for this cock down your throat and that’s exactly what you’re going to get.”
As usual, the phraseyoung ladymakes me shiver hotly, my heels digging into the plush carpeting. Yes. Yes. I want to feel the weight of him on my tongue. I want to know what it’s like to give this man the ultimate pleasure. But I can’t help but whimper when he brings his shaft out in a fist and drops it like a heavy slab of meat against my mouth.
“Um…” I’m trembling. Mesmerized. Anticipating the entry of that sensitive part of him into any part of me. “Are you acting out a movie, too?” I ask, breathless. Sounding a little giddy. “Is itBig Daddy?”
He takes my jaw roughly in his hand, positioning me at a slight angle, my head tilted back, lips wet. In his opposite fist, he guides the insane length of his erection to my mouth, and he’s not gentle about cramming it inside, grunting to a stop when he’s halfway inside, having met the resistance of my throat. “Gone in Sixty Seconds,” he rasps.
