Hostile Takeover, Hill, W [recommended books to read .TXT] 📗

him, show him how wet she was, how she wanted his cock inside of her when he was done here.

After he got his breath back, she was gone. The staff remembered her, said she was a guest, but of course he didn’t pry beyond that, respecting the privacy rules that didn’t reveal names. He’d thought of her more than once since then. If he saw her again, he’d burn down her shields, win her sweet cries and tears of surrender.

Now he was looking at her again. Marcie. She put her other knee up on the car hood and, with a smooth ripple of thighs and buttocks, she was on the Roadster on all fours, her ass facing the camera.

A black velvet bag was in her hand, and she laid it near the windshield. As he watched, she went down to one elbow and put her cheek to the car’s hood. Holding her balance on her knees and that one cheek, she reached back, cupped both hands over her ass. Curving her fingers into the seam between, she parted her buttocks to show him that delicate puckered entrance. As she flexed, he caught the glisten, realized she’d already oiled herself up.

Dipping her fingers into her pussy, she worked them in and out, showing him she was also well-aroused, then she moved her fingers from there into her rectum. The muscles contracted and released, then contracted again, taking her.

He had his hand on his cock, he couldn’t help it. It was straining against his slacks, threatening to split seams. Damn it. He hit the remote on his desk, locking the door, and then opened his trousers. When he put a chokehold on it, it convulsed under his hand.

Removing her fingers from her ass, she reached for that velvet bag. She withdrew an eight-inch dildo from it, an impressively thick size, though still not as large as him. She put it in her mouth, taking all eight of those inches to the hilt, her throat working then relaxing. She worked it in and out, lips stretched over it.

Yes, baby. That’s it. Take my cock. Take all of it. He had to watch this to the end. Then he’d think about the ramifications.

When she had it slick from her saliva, she reached behind her again, parting her cheeks.

Who had seen this footage? Whose eyes did he have to put out? His fist clenched on himself, but not to rub. Something even deeper came to the forefront as she worked it in. She bit her lip, concentrating, trying to relax. She hadn’t done it too often then, and he sensed some tension in her. If he were there, he’d teach her how to relax. Best way to ass fuck a woman fairly new to it was to get them so excited, their pussy so near climax, they were contracting on air, then slide right into their rear entry like butter. They convulsed on a cock like a fist that would never let go, those sphincter muscles strong and sure.

Four inches, five…she had it past the muscles, but it was thick, and he was sure it was burning. But then she had it in to the hilt. As she turned her body, she tried to hold on to her sinuous way of moving. She didn’t realize it made his blood heat to volcanic lava, seeing that sensual impairment, the awkwardness caused by such a penetration.

She made it over to her back, pressing the dildo deep inside of her against the car hood. Slowly, she spread her legs. He drew in a breath as she lifted her upper body, used that gymnastic flexibility to reach down, unbuckle the straps of the shoes. What he’d thought were two sets of buckles, part of the shoe’s design, was an extra set of tie straps on her ankles. She buckled one ankle to the grill. Spreading the other leg out as far as it could go, she fastened it as well. Then she eased herself to her back once again, only now her legs were spread so wide he could see her weeping pussy, the flex of her buttocks as they flattened against the hood, holding that phallus inside of her.

She placed the other hand above her head, curling her fingers around the hood edge at the windshield. She didn’t restrain her wrist, but the way she held it there suggested binding. Then she slid her other hand down her belly. He saw the navel jewelry, that glittering flower, now without a key on it, because he’d taken it, removed it and her collar.

Her breasts were as fucking tempting as any Ben had ever seen. He thought Peter, dedicated tit man who he was, would agree. She was pierced there too, tiny little rings, tempting teeth. The nipples were stiff and large, her back arched as if offering them, begging. He followed the track from that irresistible view down the slope of her abdomen, over the navel piercing, down to where her hand was. Jesus, she had a clit hood piercing as well, a jeweled ring lying against her clean-shaven pussy, glistening with her juices.

She could be bound by those four rings. A collar around her neck, chains leading to her nipples, navel, clit. Chains that could be tightened and tugged to fold her over, increase the discomfort, helplessness, focusing her on her Master’s desires, heightening his pleasure and her own…

She tugged on that clit piercing and moaned, arching up farther, thrusting out those beautiful tits in a way that would compel any straight man who saw this to jack off. Ben understood Randall’s comment about disciplinary action now. There was no way the guard monitoring the cameras had missed her doing this. But he wouldn’t put it past Marcie to have done her research, to know which on-duty guard would be most likely to hold off calling it in right away, unable to resist indulging in a little late-night adult cable entertainment.

Or more likely—given that K&A security were smart