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Authors: R.J. Lewis

BORDEN 2 (7 page)

BOOK: BORDEN 2
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He fidgeted in his chair, pursing his lips in a tight line as he continued to rub me. His finger rimmed my entrance. He slowly pushed his finger in, watching the way my face twisted at the pleasure. He moved in slowly, and every time he pulled his finger out, he used my wetness to rub circles around my clit. I gripped the edge of the desk and moaned again, this time louder. My hand shot over his and I tried to hurry him along, but he resisted against my touch. I dug my nails into his wrist as the pleasure built.
Fuck, it was too good.

 

“I gotta go,” he abruptly spoke into the phone, his voice low and thick. “Call me later.”

 

He slammed the phone down and pulled his finger all the way out. He then gripped my jaw and forced me to look down at him. “Tell me what you want,” he demanded, his voice low and hard. I was in a daze still, my body wound up unbearably tight. He stuck his finger between my lips, the same finger that was inside me, and raised his brows. “Don’t make me fucking repeat myself, Emma. I’m fucking bursting here. What do you want?”

 

“I want you.”

 

“To do what? To fuck you? Eat you out?
What?

 

“Eat me out.”

 

His lips went up. “Fuck, your mouth alone gets me hard.”

 

Before I could say another word, he grabbed my legs with both hands and buried his face between them. He slowly trailed his tongue along my sex and I buckled at the hot feeling, whimpering aloud at the pleasure that warmed every part of me. I shook and he only held me tighter, sucking at my swollen flesh, lapping his tongue in strategic strokes, igniting that fire until I could hardly take it.

 

My hands shot to his head, and I gripped his hair, pulling at the strands as he continued to tongue-fuck me. My eyelids went heavy, and I stared down at him, this broad shouldered man, two times my size, digging his fingers painfully into my legs as he drew white hot pleasure out of me.

 

“Marcus,” I chanted, scratching at his skull. “Marcus.”

 

He groaned in return, sucking the bundle of nerves until I seized all movement. A wave of spine tingling pleasure coursed through my body. I moaned through it, unaware of how loud I was and frankly not caring either. He continued to lick me, drawing out my orgasm, leaving me panting and, strangely, still aroused.

 

He pulled away from me and stood up. His arms caged around me again. I was still in a daze when he crashed his mouth against mine, forcing his tongue between my lips, soaking me with his taste mingled with mine. My arms darted around him, and I pulled him to me, urgently wrapping my legs around his hips. His hands grabbed at my clothes. He pulled my top out of my skirt and ran his under it, grasping at my bare skin. He kissed me roughly like that, pressing me flush against his body, against the hard ridge of his cock. I palmed it and he hissed, rolling his hips into my hand. I wanted him. I wanted him inside of me.

 

“Marcus,” I found myself begging, squeezing his length, “please.”

 

“Please what?” he groaned in return, viciously pressing himself against my hand.

 

God, even when he was horny he had to win. “Please, fuck me. Please.”

 

“Fuck, that sweet little mouth.”

 

With a hand behind my head, he kissed me desperately, touching me everywhere with his heat and body. With shaky fingers, I unzipped his pants, about to slip my hand in when he abruptly stepped back. He cut the kiss off in a flash of a second. Still hovering near me, I opened my eyes to find his devilish smirk inches away from my lips.

 

“Too late,” he murmured. “You should have begged sooner.”

 

“What?”

 

“I’m already pressed for time.”

 

“Are you serious?”

 

He picked up my underwear and slipped it back on, all the while I gaped at him with confusion. He chuckled, amused by my misery. I didn’t get it. He was rock hard and obviously sexually frustrated. His chest was heaving, his eyes were wide and dazed.

 

“You clearly want it, Borden.”

 

“Of course I want it.”

 

“Then fuck me. You don’t have to be anywhere right now. Everybody waits on you anyway. Please.”

 

“Goodness, doll, look at all this
begging
.” He leaned forward, delivering a swift lick across my lip before pulling back again. “A promise is a promise, though, and I promised not to fuck you.”

 

My jaw dropped. Unbelievable. He had gotten what he wanted, reduced me to a begging mess, and then pulled away because of a promise? I crossed my arms. “What if I slapped you?”

 

He collapsed back into his chair and raised his eyebrows at me. “What about it?”

 

“You’d want it, wouldn’t you?”

 

“I want it with you all the time, slap or not. A bit of pain is just an extra side dish to an already tasty meal. Not required.”

 

I looked down at my nails, avoiding his eye as I asked, “I thought you needed it.”

 

I could feel his deep stare on me. “Needed it how?”

 

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Just…needed it.”

 

He was quiet for a few moments and then a deep laugh sounded out. “Jesus, you think I like the pain because I have some sort of psychological issue? You think it’s mommy problems or something?”

 

I looked back at his amused face. “I’ve never been with a guy who loves it as much as you, that’s all. It made me wonder if something happened, you know, when you were young. You’ve already told me how shitty your upbringing was.”

 

“I was beaten, but I wasn’t sexually abused, doll. I also didn’t stumble upon a fuck-fest with kinky whips involved. I have no scars from the past to explain why I like a little pain.”

 

“Then why do you like it?”

 

He idly scratched at his thickening beard, deliberating the question. “I like the adrenaline. I like the way my blood pumps faster. I like the feel of the sting mixed with the pleasure. I like when a woman has to be rough to get what she wants. They’re simple triggers that get me hornier. That’s all.”

 

“That’s all.”

 

“Wish I was a bit more damaged, do you?”

 

“Would explain why you’re an asshole.”

 

“You love it.”

 

I slid off the desk and bent over, resting my hands on the arms of his chair. I leaned into him and took his lips against my own. “I love it more than you realize,” I whispered as I pulled away.

 

He abruptly grabbed me and forced me down on top of him, my back against his front, my ass on his hardened groin. He groaned as I pressed into him, and his hands slid up my front, unbuttoning a few buttons and slipping a hand inside. He palmed my breast and squeezed while his other hand gripped my hip. He grinded my ass against his dick again and cursed against my ear.

 

“You’re so turned on, it’s disgusting,” I remarked.

 

“Mm,” was all he groaned.

 

I rested my head on his shoulder and his face turned to my exposed throat. He sucked feverishly at my skin, licking me while he forced another grind against his length.

 

“You are positively the sexiest thing I have ever seen, touched, and fucked,” he told me solemnly.

 

“I don’t know,” I replied uncertainly. “Haven’t you seen the kind of women that throw themselves at you?”

 

“I see nobody but you, Emma.” His voice was breathless as he rocked me against him. “Just you. It’ll always be you.”

 

I shut my eyes so he wouldn’t see them glisten. I’d never wanted the love of a man more than Borden. I loved this man. God, I loved him so much.

 

“Use me,” I moaned. “Please.”

 

He grinded me against him. “Give me your mouth.”

 

I turned my head to him and greedily kissed him. He sucked my bottom lip and ravaged my mouth. Tongue and sucks, and more grinds against his brick length. He squeezed at my breast, tugging on the nipple through my bra and I breathed harshly against him as jolts of tingles flooded through me.

 

His phone rang again, and he growled in frustration and dropped his hands. “This is unfortunate.”

 

“Fuck the call.”

 

“I’ve got business. Hop up, doll. I’ll fuck you to oblivion later.”

 

I slid off of him and, before I took my first step, he landed a smack against my ass and groaned. “Perfection.”

 

I smiled and shimmied my ass in front of his face. His eyes went so dark, I laughed.

 

Yeah, he was it for me.

 

*

I had re-done my make-up and straightened up my clothes when I walked out of the office for lunch. Graeme drove me to the café.

 

“Don’t leave,” he told me firmly before I stepped out. “I’m going to know about it, and don’t think of sneaking away either.”

 

“Why would I do that?” I replied, shooting him a look. “What part of me would think of sneaking out of the restaurant, Graeme?”

 

“I’m just saying, Emma. Young ladies can be unpredictable. Your minds fill with silly defiant thoughts. You do something silly and you’re not only putting yourself in danger, but you’re ensuring my demise. Borden would kill me if something happened to you, and I wouldn’t forgive myself either. Understand?”

 

“Yes, Mein Fuhrer,” I retorted, stepping out.

 

He frowned. “I’m serious, Emma.”

 

I bent down to meet his serious gaze with one of my own. “Honestly, I’m not as dumb as I must obviously look to you. Don’t worry, party pooper, I won’t run away to a Cuban ranch with pool boy Estefan.”

 

Despite my sarcasm, his face relaxed. “Good.”

 

I smiled and slammed the door shut. I knew Graeme wasn’t worried about Borden harming him if I did something stupid. Deep inside he genuinely cared for my wellbeing, and I supposed that came with the territory when two people were forced around one another so long.

 

I walked into the café and looked around. I spotted an arm in the air and a hand waving back and forth. It was Blythe. I quickly walked to her table in the far back, smiling broadly as I approached. That smile soon wavered when I took a good look at her. I didn’t like what I saw. She didn’t look like the normal Blythe who cared about her appearances. Her blonde hair was tied up in a loose bun at the top of her head. She had on a baggy purple tunic with a pair of black tights, but they were dimpled like she’d slept in them. She was tired, and her usual glow was gone. I wondered if she’d just had a crazy night and was recovering from a hangover, though I couldn’t imagine her doing something like that on a weeknight.

 

We hugged (she wore no perfume) and sat down. Shortly after a waitress came by and we ordered our meals. The entire time Blythe was reserved, looking between me and her table with an uneasy look. I wasn’t in the mood to dance around.

 

“You alright?” I asked her.

 

She shrugged, looking despairingly down at her pink fingernails. “Cutting to the chase, huh?”

 

“I can tell when something isn’t right, and I don’t want to pretend everything is until you drop the bomb on me.”

 

She sighed. “Yeah, you’re right. I’ve been a real shit to you, haven’t I?”

 

“You haven’t been answering any of my phone calls, or my texts. I’m a little upset, sure, but I can understand if life gets in the way.”

 

“I’ve been cut off from my phone providor. That’s why I haven’t gotten back to you. It’s why I had to call you from work.”

 

My brows shot up. “You’re that behind on your payments?”

 

She nodded, glancing at me with her sad eyes. “Yeah. Things aren’t going very well on my end, and I fucking hate doing this right now, because you know me and you know all about my stupid pride, but…I’m close to getting evicted and…”

BOOK: BORDEN 2
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