Head On (The Head On Trilogy) (7 page)

Drake Parkin

"I say," said Derek Hambleton, wandering over to me with a Martini in his hand, "are you okay? You seem dreadfully preoccupied, Mr. Parkin."

Turning to him, I froze for a fraction of a second. Hambleton was just some doddery old English guy who turned up at the hotel from time to time, waxing lyrical about whatever tropical paradise he'd most recently visited. The guy could be a terrible bore, and I usually manage to avoid him. Today, however, he seemed to have picked up on the fact that my mind was elsewhere.

"I'm just expecting a visitor," I replied with a fake smile. "Nothing important."

"Another billion dollar deal, eh?" he said, grinning like a fool. "In my day, Parkin, a big deal was measured in the millions. Today, no-one gives a dash about millions, do they? It's all about billions. Give it a few years, and people'll be happily doing deals for trillions of dollars."

"I imagine so," I replied, glancing over at the window. This was a new state for me. I never,
ever
waited keenly for a woman to arrive, and yet watching Kathryn fuck Archer had been one of the most exhilarating experiences of my life. I'd wanted to stop her, to make her come to me immediately, but at the same time I'd still been the one giving her calm, meticulous orders over the microphone. It had been as if I couldn't help myself, as if I was driven by some hidden, powerful urge to make her keep fucking him. If the guy had been able to last more than a couple of minutes without reaching orgasm, I don't know whether I would have ever brought things to an end.

"It's a woman, isn't it?" Hambleton said with a smile. "I'm not so old that I've forgotten what it's like to be enamored of a new filly, Mr. Parkin. You've got that same look in your eye that men have had since the time of the cavemen." He grinned at me, waiting for me to say something. "Well? What's her name?"

I turned to him. "You don't know what you're talking about," I said after a moment. "Believe me, you have no idea what I'm thinking or feeling." With that, disgusted both by him and by myself, I turned and headed toward the bar. It was too late to turn Kathryn back now that I'd told her to come here, but I'd have to find some way to hide the fact that I actually
wanted
her. The only solution was to take charge and make her realize just how easy it would be for me to assume total control of her body.

Kathryn

Stepping out of the limousine, I felt a cold wind blow against my body. I was wearing a short, tight black dress that I'd found on the back-seat of the car, and I'd quickly managed to get changed while trying to avoid exposing too much flesh to the driver, whose eyes I could see the whole time reflected in the rear-view mirror. I hadn't had a chance to fix my hair, but the dress seemed to suit me and as I looked up at the facade of the hotel, I realized that somewhere in there, Drake Parkin was waiting for me.

As soon as I stepped into the building, I felt as if I was entering a whole new world. To describe the place as lavish would be an understatement; it was ornate, almost like the inside of a castle, and everyone around me seemed to be hugely, extravagantly rich. Apart from the doorman, at least, who eyed me with the suspicious look of someone who understood exactly what I was here for. I was quickly learning that as I hurried from one client to another, I wasn't always going to have time to disguise my intentions. Doormen, secretaries, receptionists... They all seemed to have a sixth sense that helped them recognize me as a common whore.

"Can I help you, M'am?" asked another doorman, stepping in front of me with a dour, rather unwelcoming look in his eyes. It was clear that he knew I didn't belong here, and that he was just itching to throw me out.

"I'm here to see someone," I said, trying (and most likely failing) to act natural.

"And who would that be?" he asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

"Drake Parkin," I continued. "I was told he'd be here."

"You were told?"

"Yes," I said, forcing a smile. I was keenly aware that I sounded woefully unbelievable, and I was desperately hoping that Drake would swoop in at any moment and rescue me.

"One moment," the doorman said, stepping over to the reception desk and starting to talk in hushed tones to one of the receptionists.

Turning, I saw that the other doorman was watching me with suspicion, although his gaze seemed to be drawn down to my legs. He blatantly understood that I was a prostitute, and he seemed to be making no particular attempt to disguise the fact that he was ogling my body. I watched as his eyes moved up to my cleavage.

"M'am," said the other doorman, walking back over.

Feeling a sense of panic building, I turned to him. I was convinced that I was about to be found out; I was absolutely certain that the doormen, together, were going to throw me out onto the sidewalk while shouting to all the passersby that I was a common whore.

"Mr. Parkin is in the Roosevelt Bar," the doorman continued, before pointing toward a corridor that led away from the reception area. "If you go this way, you'll find the bar on your left hand side."

Stunned that I was being allowed to proceed, I paused for a moment before forcing a fake smile. "Thank you," I said politely, trying not to blush as I walked quickly toward the corridor. At the last minute, I made the mistake of glancing over my shoulder, and sure enough the doormen were watching me keenly, probably staring at my ass in this tight dress. I wanted to say something, to tell them to keep their dirty looks to themselves, but instead I merely carried on walking, determined to find Parkin. I felt as if I was in his world now, and those doormen - despite their ugly stares and their undoubtedly dirty thoughts about me - were just props. The only way I could deal with their stares was to force myself to think that they didn't matter at all.

"Kathryn," a voice said suddenly.

Turning, I saw Parkin standing in a doorway. Wearing a perfectly-fitted suit, he had a drink in one hand and his gaze was already drawn to the curves of my dress. He'd obviously decided exactly what he wanted me to wear, and had arranged things accordingly.

"Don't look so shocked," he continued. "Did you think I wouldn't be able to find your real name? You're Kathryn Hoskins, you're twenty-six years old and until very recently you worked for one of my companies. I found out a lot of additional information about you, but I didn't bother to read it. I only needed the basics."

"I took the earpiece out in the car," I said, walking over to him. I wanted to kiss him, but I wasn't sure whether that was allowed, so I decided to wait for a cue. "I hope that was okay."

He stared at me, as if he found me faintly amusing.

"Was it?" I asked, starting to worry. "I mean, was it okay? I could go back and get it if you want."

"This way," he replied, turning and walking along the corridor.

Feeling breathlessly nervous, I obediently followed him along the luxurious red carpet. I felt like I'd done something wrong, but at the same time I figured he'd have quickly thrown me out if he wasn't happy. Drake Parkin was a very difficult man to understand, and I was struggling to determine exactly what - if anything - he truly felt about me.

"So were you watching the whole time today?" I asked eventually. "I tried to work out where the camera was hidden -"

"It doesn't matter," he said firmly, leading me around a corner. "You did a pretty good job, considering it was your first time. You gave me more than enough ammunition to fire that pathetic fuck." He glanced at me, and there was a hint of a smile on his lips. "He fucked a prostitute on company time, in his office. I just hope he has the good sense not to ask for a reference."

"He has a wife," I pointed out, shocked at Parkin's ruthlessness.

"Maybe she'll leave him," he replied, "or maybe she'll stay now that he knows how to give head to a woman. Either way, you've done her a favor, unless she's as pathetic as he is." He led me round another corner. "What's wrong? Has your conscience caught up to you?"

"It's not that -"

"Archer's been a problem for years," he continued. "Certain recent developments made it imperative for me to get rid of the asshole as quickly as possible."

I opened my mouth to reply, but the words caught in my throat. I felt as if Parkin had somehow used me as a weapon, as a means of screwing over that Archer guy. I wasn't sure whether or not to be disgusted, but right now I was more interested in Parkin's response, since something seemed to be a little 'off' about him. There was a part of me that wanted to ask if he was okay, and to see if there was anything I could do, but at the same time I was getting the distinct impression that he didn't call me here over for a chat. As he stopped at a small door, unlocked it and pushed it open, I realized that there was only one thing he wanted.

"Bend over the table," he said, flicking the light switch on.

"If you -"

"Bend over the table."

I stared at him. "I'm not sure whether -"

"Bend over the table," he said again, fixing me with a determined stare. "I won't tell you a fourth time."

Without saying another word, I walked over to the table at the other end of the small storage room. As I slowly bent over, I immediately felt Parkin's hands on my hips and he quickly hitched the dress up to my waist, exposing my bare ass. Instinctively, I moved my legs further apart, and seconds later I felt the tip of his penis sliding inside my vagina. I let out a gasp as he put his hands firmly on my hips, and then he started fucking me. Gripping the sides of the wobbly table, I could do nothing but wait as he pounded away at me. Whereas Archer was cautious and hesitant, Parkin seemed to know exactly what he wanted. He obviously called me straight over to the hotel after watching me get fucked by Archer, and as I felt him getting bigger and harder in my pussy, I realized that the tingle - the same one that started back there in Archer's office - was returning to my body. He was going to finish what Archer had started.

"Don't cum yet," Parkin said firmly. "Not until I tell you."

I swallowed hard, focusing instead on gripping the table.

"Did you hear me?" he asked impatiently.

"Yes," I said breathlessly. "I won't."

He started fucking me harder and harder, with a kind of energy and passion that was missing the other day. He seemed to be playing with me before, whereas now it was as if he was consumed by the urge to take me as hard and as quickly as possible. As his hands gripped my waist tighter and tighter, I felt a wave of pleasure building in my crotch, but I forced myself to stay calm. I knew I couldn't disobey him by reaching orgasm yet, and I ended up holding my breath as the pleasure built and built. It felt as if, with every thrust, he was slowly tightening a knot in my body, and at any moment - if I let myself relax - the knot would burst open and I'd cum.

I shouldn't be enjoying this
, I told myself.
This is wrong.

Still holding my breath, I closed my eyes and focused all my energy on keeping that knot tight. I wanted to cum, to let it all out, but I knew I can't. Eventually, struggling with the effort of keeping myself under control, I let out a small, involuntary moan. The orgasm seemed to be trying to force its way through, but I was pushing back, determined to stay in control. All I could think about was Parkin's order, and his insistence that I wasn't allowed to cum yet. More than anything, I wanted to prove to him that I had that level of control.

Please
, I thought to myself,
just say I can cum
.

Time seemed to stand still. Still not breathing, I opened my mouth and waited, my eyes fixed on the dull gray wall just a few inches from my face. I could still feel Parkin pounding rhythmically into my pussy, but it was as if I was on a kind of sensual plateau. If I breathed, if I even blinked, I'd cum, and I knew that wasn't allowed. I just had to stay as still and as quiet as possible, even though the effort was starting to bring tears to my eyes.

I let out a faint, almost inaudible gasp.

Please...

He shifted his grip on my waist a little, and his touch sent a powerful tremor through my body that almost brought me to orgasm. I struggled to stay in control, but one of his hands slowly reached under my arm and slipped the top of my dress down. He clutched at my right breast, before squeezing the nipple tightly. I groaned again. The orgasm seemed impossible to hold back, but somehow - with my eyes squeezed tight shut, my breath held, sweat on my forehead and my mouth open in a perpetual, soft, trembling moan - I was just about managing to stay in control. Still, even the slightest touch could tip me over the edge.

He squeezed my nipple harder.

I gasped again, trying to catch myself, but it was too late -

The orgasm started to burst through my body, but somehow - I have
no
idea how - I seemed to catch it before it exploded completely. I held it in place, forcing it down, denying it the chance to overcome me. It was as if a grenade had exploded but I'd managed to freeze it just a fraction of a second after the explosion. I knew I couldn't hold onto it much longer, and I let out the loudest gasp of my life as I continued to struggle. Every second was an exquisite mixture of agony and ecstasy.

"Please!" I shouted, my voice contorted by the tension of holding everything in. "Drake, please!"

He didn't reply. I squeezed my eyes so tightly shut, they were starting to hurt, and as I continued to grip the sides of the table, the muscles of my arm were painfully tense as I tried everything to keep myself under control. Every atom of my body wanted to release the pleasure, but I knew I wasn't allowed to do it yet. Holding my breath until my entire body was exhausted, I eventually had to take a gulp of air.

"Please," I whimpered, as a tear escaped from my tightly-closed eyes and ran down my cheek.

He changed his angle slightly, forcing the base of his penis more tightly against my clitoris as he continued to pound away at me. I could still feel the orgasm, half-begun, but I was getting stronger now, and I was getting better at keeping it under control. Opening my eyes slightly, I pressed my face against the cold plastic surface of the table; I open my mouth, catching a series of short breaths. This sex was better than any orgasm. It was the most pure and powerful pleasure I'd ever felt in my life and I wanted it to last forever. Parkin had changed me. Letting out a long, slow moan of ecstasy, I realized I was learning to control my body.

"Cum," he said finally.

Shocked, I couldn't believe what I'd heard.

"Cum," he said again, as if it was the most important thing in the world.

For a moment, I wasn't even sure if I could remember how to allow my body such freedom. Finally, I shocked myself with a loud, uncontrolled groan as I pressed my chest firmly against the table and surrendered to the pleasure. Having held everything in for so long, I was scared of finally giving in, but I knew I couldn't deny Parkin's order. It was as if that knot, that had been getting tighter and tighter, had finally broken, and I felt the orgasm spill out through my body with each thrust of Parkin's hot, hard cock. Breathlessly, I groaned again as wave after wave of pure pleasure built and then crashed through my body, and I could feel my man ejaculating deep inside my pussy, as thrust after thrust pushed me further and further toward a peak. It still felt as if time had frozen and the moment of pleasure could last forever, and just when I thought it was over, I felt a second orgasm bursting through my body, more raw and blunt than the first. I let out a series of breathless, impassioned grunts as I squeezed my eyes tighter and tried to focus on nothing but the pure pleasure of the moment. Letting out one final moan, I lifted my hips a little further toward him, and suddenly all the pleasure seemed to become more gradual and relaxed.