I ride the wave down, down, down. All of my senses vibrate and come alive, and I can feel every last sensation until I crash down. I’m aware of my body pulsing as he thrusts into me one last time and groans as he empties himself. My limbs tremble, I can’t hold onto him anymore. My body slumps. I close my eyes and float.
He stays inside me for a few seconds, his heart thudding strong-hard-fast, while his cock mirrors the pulsing between my inner walls. There’s a soft touch on my forehead, then on one closed eyed, the other, my nose. Then he pulls out. I begin to protest, but he presses a kiss on one corner of my lips. "Let me take care of you." My last recollection is of him untying the ropes around my ankles and carrying me out of his secret room.
When I come to, I’m in his bed in the main bedroom and, swaddled so tightly by his sheets, I know he tucked them around me. Light pours in through the windows. I wriggle my toes and realize I’m no longer wearing my stilettos, and when I stretch, the flesh between my legs protests. My pussy feels sore, my nipples are so sensitive, a shock of sensations floor me when the sheet rubs against them.
"Oh," I gasp and lay back against the pillows. I turn and find the space next to mine is empty. I inch my arm out from under the sheets and touch the pillow. It’s cold. When did he wake up? Did he come to bed after we—fucked? Yeah, it was fucking… And more. What that more is, I’m not sure. I don’t think I can give it a name. I can only say it was something a whole lot more than meaningless sex… For me. And for him. I'm sure of it. Only he’s not going to admit it. He— There’s a buzzing sound. I glance to my other side to find my phone on the nightstand. I snatch it up, look at the text message.
Bosshole: You’re late, Ms. Easton. I expect you to be at the staff meeting within the next hour.
I burst into the conference room in the office, and every single face turns to look at me. I flush to the roots of my hair but hold my head high as I stomp to the only remaining chair in the room, which happens to be the closest to his. At least, I’m not wearing the same dress I wore when I went to the bosshole’s place. I can’t because it’s shredded. Also, he left me a skirt suit and blouse draped over the chair near the bed, along with fresh underwear. The label shows it’s from Karma’s boutique. Did he have more clothes in my size delivered to his place? He must have. Did he anticipate me spending the night with him? Did he plan it all? I don’t think so, and even if he did, it doesn’t matter. The Sir who can make my body sizzle with his ministrations, who is a demanding, dominant lover who can make my bones melt with one glare is gone; in his place, the jerkosaurus is back and gauging by the disapproving look on his face, he’s not happy.
I stomp over to the chair and throw myself into it, then wince when my butt and my pussy protest. Jeez, but I can feel his palm-print on my backside and his dick-print inside me.
A look of satisfaction comes into his eyes, but he banks it. "Glad you could join us Ms. Easton," he drawls.
"Wouldn’t dream of missing this important announcement," I reply sweetly.
"You’re only twenty minutes late." He makes a show of looking at his watch, a black-colored Casio G-Shock, which is not only cheap but also durable. The kind I’d have expected the former Knight who was a soldier on a mission to wear. Another clue that the man I’d love to know is in there somewhere.
But that man wouldn’t have fucked me, then left me in his bed while he made it to office on time. That man would have woken me up with a kiss, then fucked me in the shower and cooked me breakfast, before giving me a ride to the office.
Ugh, and I was visualizing a future with this… This emotionless bastard. Only he's not. I’ve seen glimpses of the man he is inside. The man I want to get to know. The man I know is right for me. The man I want to spend the rest of my life with. And, no, no, I cannot go thinking like that. I need to—
"Ms. Easton, did you hear what I said?"
I blink, then scowl up at him. "Of course I did."
"Care to repeat it?" One side of his lips curls, and I can’t stop looking at it. He definitely didn’t smirk so much earlier, so this has to be an improvement to his personality, right? One of the other girls in the room titters. I shoot her a sideways glance.
"Ms. Easton, clearly, you’re not focused on the matter at hand. Do I need to remind you how important it is for you to do your job properly?"
I snap my teeth together, then slowly shake my head.
"Can you tell me what we were discussing earlier?"
"The new marketing tie-in with CN Enterprises."
He jerks his chin, then turns his attention to others in the room. "The next time anyone is late to a meeting, you’ll all need to stay late to compensate for it.”
There’s a murmur around the room. Some of the people—not all of whom I know—glower at me. Nice. If this was a way to make me the focus of ire with my new colleagues, then he’s succeeded. I place my hands in my lap, stare at a point past the handsome visage of the man I want to punch—and jump, and slap, and kiss, and push my nose into his throat and draw in his heady smell, all at once. A flush steals up my cheeks, and I make sure I don’t look at his face.
He continues speaking, and I let his words rumble over me. And of course, the timbre of his tone causes my pussy to clench and my nipples to bead. I squeeze my thighs together and manage not to wriggle in my seat. If I did, I’m sure the bosshole would know what the source of my discomfort is. At some point, he stops speaking. And when the rest of the people rise to their feet, I jump up too. They begin to stream out, and I turn and begin to follow them, when he calls out, "Ms. Easton, a word?"
43
Penny’s bucket list
Type at 250 words a minute （done!）
Have 5 O’s in the course of 1 night （I’ll settle for 1 tbh） => Almost made this one last night when he gave 4 orgasms. OMG 4 freakin’ orgasms!!
Learn to cook a gourmet meal. => I wasn’t very good at it, but it’s the spirit that counts, right?
Act in a movie or a play—I’ll take a street act => It didn’t go down that well. :（
See the London Ice Kings play a game.
Swim with dolphins.
See the Northern Lights.
Climb Uluru in Australia.
Eat a chocolate croissant in a sidewalk café in Paris.
Be dominated. （Uh, maybe this should go up to the top?）
Find a man who cares for my mother as much as I do.
Be proposed to by the man I love.
Explore anal. （I’m chicken so this is right at the bottom—pun intended. Hahahaha!）
44
Knight
Yes, that was an asshole move on my part. Heading to the office without her and messaging her, knowing she was going to be late. And knowing I was going to tell her off when she came in, and that I’d see the anger on her face when I did. And I wanted to see her eyes flash and her cheeks redden. I was sure she’d slink into the room, but she marched in like she owned the place and took her seat like she didn’t have a care in the world. And I didn't miss the way she winced when her bottom hit the chair. Nor did I miss the way she kept raising her hand to her mouth as if she wanted to bite her fingernails, only to stop herself and clasp her fingers in her lap, which told me she wasn’t anywhere as composed as she was pretending to be.