Page 6 of Claimed by My Lawyers

Hendrix dips his fingertips in Damian’s mouth. I drop a hand to my sex, only partially aware that I’ve done it. The pain from my imminent orgasm is unbearable. I need relief. I need a cock in me. I need more of everything they’re offering.

Then Damian leans forward, closing his mouth around Hendrix’s fingers. It shatters me. My legs slam shut around my hand. I circle my clit in desperate motions, no longer offering slight relief, but plunging myself over the edge.

I stifle as much sound as I can. And when I catch enough of a coherent thought to realize what I’ve done, I lift my head from where I’ve dropped it backward. My eyes still closed and heavy with lust.

Wouldn’t I have woken up if this was a dream? The weight of the room has changed dramatically.

Forcing my eyes open so I can figure out if I’m dreaming, I find Hendrix has stepped in front of me, his expression stern. Damian remains at the door.

It’s not a dream. And yet it is.

Hendrix grips my upper arms and lifts me. “Did you just pay yourself?”

For a split second, I think he meansplaywith yourself, then I snap back to the role-play. They don’t know that I’m not like this. I pray that at the end of all of this, they’re really going to help me with my case. “Am I not supposed to do that?”

“You have two lawyers who can’t work for free.”

“Sorry for being a naughty girl. I’ll pay whatever you want.” That might have gone too far. I’m not wildly experienced, but the sense of safety I have with them, which is the only reason I can do this, urges me forward.

“Bend over the table.” Hendrix keeps his voice low.

Here? I’m stirred into a total frenzy. With Damian guarding the locked door, there’s no chance we’ll get caught, but I’ve only ever had sex in my bed. And only twice. And only missionary. And only with one guy. And I didn’t climax.

I’m done being the wrong kind of good girl.

Hendrix slides my skirt over my bottom, leaving me exposed in a whole new way.

Damian says, “A thong? You wore a thong under this short skirt? You are a naughty girl.”

Now I’m confused. Am I supposed to be a good girl or a naughty girl?

Hendrix rubs his hand over my bare ass cheek, squeezes a few times, then slaps it.

I flinch, and my sex tightens, desperately needing a cock to fill it. Why did I never feel like this with my boyfriend? I’m not dreaming, and this has gone way too far to be a prank. How the heck did I go from nearly killing a man to living a fantasy?

Hendrix rubs the sting away. “If we didn’t have to be quiet, I’d slap it a lot harder.”

“Save that for later, man.” Damian implies this will continue. Where? They definitely can’t come to my messy one-bedroom apartment.

The warmth of Hendrix’s hand disappears. The sounds of a belt being loosened and a zipper dropping keep me from having to guess what he’s doing.

I glance over my shoulder and can’t decide if I’m excited or worried when I see the size of his cock. It’s glorious in all its hugeness.

“Give me her panties,” Damian demands.

Fingers hook into the slim waistband on either side of my hips. They slowly drag the fabric down, then it sounds like Damian catches them. I can’t look. This is crazy. But with Hendrix on his knees again, this time behind me, I can’t believe anything is off-limits.

His tongue against my pussy makes my legs weak. I drop my head onto my hands and accept the surge of the passion he creates.

“Damn, baby girl, are you getting close again?” His breath is hot against my sex. I clamp my eyes shut, forcing thoughts of sprinkle donuts into my mind so I can avoid imagining what he’s looking at.

“Yes.” How can this feel so right?

He bites my ass. I shudder. Didn’t know I liked getting my ass bit.

There’s a little bit of shuffling as he stands. Then his tip presses between my pussy lips. “I’m going to take you bare.”

“But…” My statement falters. Why don’t I want to object?

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