Pushing Her Buttons (3 page)

I didn’t want to do this but I wanted to please him. It frightened me, just how much I would do to please him, how quickly he had conquered me.

Trembling, aching, I got on the bed and straddled the bound girl. I placed my cleft against hers and began to rub. She arched up into me with a cry of delight. The vibrator started back up with a faint throb, resonating through us both.

“Yes.” His palm was firm on my ass. With little effort, he guided my every motion. “Make her come. Release her.”

I didn’t expect it but even as I ground against her, brought her closer to the precipice, my arousal heightened. The insistent drag of slick wet skin against slick wet skin, the jarring drag of nub against nub, consumed me. My passion, my heat, billowed, bloomed. And then just as my orgasm welled, just as ecstasy burst within me, his fingers, thick and forceful, shoved into my cunt.

The fullness, his delirious thrusts, sent me over the edge and I came around him.

She came too, crying out and writhing and shuddering against me.

That only heightened my pleasure.

I had released her. And he had released me.

I thought he would fuck me then. Fuck one of us. But he didn’t. Instead he helped me dress with gentle hands, walked me to the foyer and kissed me on the forehead.

“Will I see you tomorrow?” he asked.

I gaped at him. Surely there would be more than this. “But…”

A muscle clenched in his cheek. “Will I see you tomorrow?”

A Gordian knot twined in my belly. “I suppose.” We did live next door to each other, after all.

His expression relaxed. He picked up a small package from the table by the door and handed it to me.

“What’s this?”

“A present for you. Wear it tomorrow.”

“What is it?”

“Do you promise to wear it?”

My glare lacked conviction. “Yes.”

He smiled. “Don’t open this until the morning and then put it on right away. Don’t delay, or I’ll know.”

“How could you?”

His smile tightened. “Not until morning, sweetheart. Promise?”

And God help me, I did. I promised.

I sat up half the night staring at that damn package. Wondering.

Wondering what was in it, sure, but more than that. Wondering why he hadn’t taken advantage of my arousal. Why he hadn’t fucked me.

I’d been ready. Dribbling. Drooling for it. He could have demanded anything and I would have complied. I shivered at the thought, the implications of his hold over me.

But he hadn’t. He hadn’t taken the advantage he’d clearly won.

Why not?

My heart stilled as a lowering prospect slithered through me. Had I read this wrong? Had I only been a toy in
their
game?

An unbearable, humiliating thought given my savage, inconvenient craving for him. I did not want to share.

I had no business feeling such burning envy, such blinding jealousy. But I couldn’t help myself from wondering…had he fucked her? Was he fucking her now?

The image flooded my mind and right on its tail, hot thrashing hunger. A gnawing ache.

More than anything, I yearned for a strong dominating man—I always had. But they’d never failed to disappoint me.

Was he different than my ex had been? Or worse?

As I curled up in my cold lonely bed, one question swirled in my mind. What torment would tomorrow hold?

Chapter Three

Monday

Tomorrow, it seemed, held aggravation. And plenty of it.

I put off opening the box until after breakfast. I sat there for a long while, sipping my coffee and glaring at the package sitting on the table like a two-headed snake. It wasn’t that I was scared to open it. Well, maybe a little.

Turns out, that was a good instinct.

When I finally opened it and looked inside, I nearly closed it back up, stormed across the hall and threw it in his face. It was an elaborate kinky version of a G-string. A series of straps, really, attached to a long V-shaped piece of rubber. The rubber was studded but the studs were random, of varying sizes and heights, designed specifically to rub against my clit, to drive me mad with wanting.

He wanted me to wear this? All day? I was furious. Then I saw the note.

Slowly, I opened it and scanned his bold, stocky script. And through my fury, my arousal began to bubble.

Wear this beneath your skirt
, it said,
and nothing else. I want to think of you walking around all day with your pussy exposed, your clit throbbing and your cunt lips parted and moist. I want you to remember how vulnerable you are. Remember how hot you are. I want you to think about it. All day. Think about it as you dampen the leather of your chair in the boardroom. I want you to rock into it while others are droning over their boring presentations. And I want you to think of me. Thinking of you. Wanting you. All day.

Okay. I was tempted. More than tempted. But—I’m sorry to say—the fear won out. I have never liked cowards and never liked the thread of cowardice in myself. But I went through hell in my first marriage to a dominating man. Little games like this had been so hot then. But they’d turned ugly quick.

And this just didn’t feel right. So I didn’t put it on. I didn’t wear it. As much as a part of me wanted to, I couldn’t do it.

I spent all day thinking about
him
though, as he had so commanded. But probably not in the way he’d intended.

I thought about that woman and what we’d done. What he’d made me do. I thought about the fact that he hadn’t fucked me last night but she’d still been there when I left. That he’d probably fucked her and fucked her good. And it pissed me off.

He was a gorgeous man, the epitome of all my wet dreams rolled into flesh. And he was attractive to me in so many other ways. But if I gave in to him, if I let myself fall for him and he kept seeing her—or any other woman—it would destroy me.

It had happened before. It’d taken me years to find myself again.

My aggravation only heightened when the new owner of our company, Jackson Carter, stood us up for a meeting. And not just any meeting—our very first meeting, one my team and I had been working weeks to prepare for. None of them cared much. In their opinion it just delayed the death knell many were expecting. And they got donuts.

But I was livid.

My mood was so bad that when my secretary saw me coming toward her in the hall, she whirled around and headed the other direction.

Not my best day.

By the time I got home, I was ready for battle. Ready to tell him what I thought about him and his sleazy girlfriend and his tawdry games and his lurid G-string. He didn’t meet me in the elevator so I stormed over to his penthouse and pounded on the door.

He answered in gray flannel darkened with sweat. Oh crap. He’d been working out. The scent of him, of hot hard man, wafted to my nostrils and my resolve nearly crumbled. He was so fricking gorgeous. I wanted to lick him. But I was angry, I reminded myself.

The first words out of my mouth weren’t what I intended. “Where is she?”

He stood back and allowed me entrance. I blew through the living room and into the bedroom. He followed, hands tucked into deep pockets. “Gone.”

I snarled, “Gone where?”

“Away. She won’t be back.”

That gave me pause but I was still in a tizzy. An entire night fretting over this, an entire day fuming at him, had taken its toll on my sanity. Certainly on my patience.

“Did you fuck her last night?” Gads. I hated how I sounded. But I couldn’t help it. I was a woman possessed. By a nasty little green imp with sharp claws.

“No.”

I blinked. I had convinced myself he had. I’d convinced myself they’d spent the whole night fucking and laughing about me. “Wh-why not?”

He stepped closer. His voice was soft, intent. His gaze held mine in a tender embrace. “Don’t you know?”

I shook my head, blinking at the tear stinging the corner of my eye.

He nudged a lock of hair behind my ear and smiled crookedly. “Because I didn’t want her. I wanted you.”

I stormed back into the living room, enraged. A fury fomented by hours of frustration. “You could have had me,” I hissed. “You sent me away.” God, how that rankled.

“I had to.”

“What?”

“I had to send you away.”

“Why?”

He walked toward the wall of windows with a magnificent city view. I watched in the reflection as he raked his fingers through his hair. “Because I had to.”

“But…don’t you want me?” I cringed even as the words slipped out.

He spun around, nostrils flaring. “Jesus. Of course I want you.” He laughed, a crazed trickle. “Baby, you have no idea how bad I want you. But there’s something I want even more.”

At my quizzical glance, he grabbed my hips and pulled me closer. The ridge of his arousal nudged my belly. I fisted the soft cotton of his sweats. Oh, how I loved sweats on a man.

“I want our first time to be right. To be perfect. I don’t want someone else between us. I don’t want anyone else in the bed. I want your focus on me and mine on you. I want this to be right.”

My lips parted but no sound came out. A trill of excitement danced through my cunt. How amazing it would be, if it
could
be. How wonderful. But I’d been burned. I was leery.

He must have seen that in my expression because he said, “We need to take this slow. One step at a time. I want you to be comfortable. I want to go at your speed.” He swallowed a snort. “And if going slow drives us crazy then at least we’ll go there together. Okay?”

He was so close. So warm. So sincere. My resistance melted. I nodded. “Okay.”

“All right.” He grinned and blew out a breath. “Are you ready?”

“Ready?” For what?

“Lift up your skirt. I want to see it on you.”

Oh shit.
My hands instinctively dropped to cover my privates. Because I hadn’t put it on.

He was going to be annoyed. He crossed his arms over his chest. I tried not to fixate on how his muscles bulged with the action.

He tipped his head to the side and studied me. Why oh why did he look wounded? “You did wear it. Didn’t you?”

I made a face and shrugged.

“Why not?”

I mirrored his position, crossing my arms as well. I noted with great satisfaction that his eyes glassed over a bit when my cleavage leapt to the fore. “I was mad at you.”

“Mad at me?”

“Because of
her
.”

“There’s no more
her
. But that is beside the point. You deliberately disobeyed.”

His tone was so soft, so smooth, but a thread of steel ran through it. And despite my determination to be an aggressive, powerful woman, that weeping submissive deep inside me wriggled to get out. It was a wet and slippery slope; she’d find her way, and quickly.

He paced around the room, circling me, viewing me from all sides, making me turn this way and that to keep him within my sights. We were playing a game and we both knew it. But my reservations were very real.

“You do realize you’ll have to be punished.” This he murmured in a raspy bass. It rumbled through my being.

My clit began to throb. A slick dampness dribbled out. I softened.
Punishment.
I had always craved a firm hand. Especially on my ass.

Yet I resisted. Because he’d like that.

“I don’t think I deserve a punishment.” I sounded like a petulant pouter. But that was kind of the point.

“Did you disobey an order?”

I put out a lip.

“Sweetheart.” He cupped my cheek with a big bearlike paw. “You have to play by the rules.”

I turned my back on him but he just stepped behind me and pulled my body against his, spooning me.

It felt amazing but I couldn’t let him see that. So I tried to wrench away. “I don’t want to play.”

His hold tightened. “Yes, you do,” he said into the shell of my ear.

His palm skated across my belly and lower, to the hem of my skirt. Then it trailed back up under my slip, creating tantalizing waves on my hypersensitive skin. He found my core, slipped deeper into my slit and rubbed.

He made that sound, that sound that had me weeping with lust. A guttural groan that said nothing and everything at the same time. He stroked and delight—sweet excruciating delight—rocked me. I whimpered. It was so good. So damn good.

It had been a long time since I’d felt this kind of heat. From a man. From myself.

Together, we were incendiary.

His lips teased their way over my cheek to my earlobe then found that spot on my neck. He sucked. Sensation scalded me, rioted over my jangled nerves. My knees buckled.

“You like that, do you?” he whispered. “You want more.” He drew tiny circles around my aching button, ruthlessly teasing me, challenging my sanity.

When I didn’t answer, he stopped. He pulled out from beneath my skirt, letting the dampness trail along my thighs. To remind me of my hunger.

“Take it off.”

I jerked in his arms as the command registered. I hesitated for a second. But that was about all I had in me. Trembling, I fumbled for the hook, the zipper. As I drew it down, I came into contact with something hot and hard and throbbing. I had wondered about this, about him, for weeks. His length. His girth. His rigidity. I allowed myself a surreptitious caress.

Maybe not so surreptitious. He growled and nipped at my earlobe. “No teasing.”

“I wasn’t—”

He silenced me by jerking at my unfastened skirt. It fluttered to the floor. “Turn around.”

As though he didn’t trust me to do so of my own volition, he directed me with gentle hands on my shoulders. I stood there in my blouse, panties and heels, suffering his inspection. I desperately wanted to cover my nether regions but knew better. Besides, this was nothing. I knew what was coming.

It made me quiver.

“Unbutton your blouse.”

I did. As soon as it fell open, he reached for me, caressing my belly and hips with broad, flat palms.

“You feel wonderful. Warm and soft.” He felt wonderful too. Just the touch of his skin on mine electrified me.

Heat surged in me. If he touched me just right, I would probably come right there on the spot. He would probably punish me for that too.

He tipped up my chin until our eyes met. “Are you okay?”

I nodded.

“Are you ready to continue?” His tone was unsteady, intense.

I swallowed. “Yes.”

“Take it off.”

From the tone of his voice, he was as beleaguered as I. As hungry as I. I took advantage of that and slowly slipped my blouse from my shoulders, catching it around the bosom for a heartbeat before letting it go.

Quaking, I stood there before him in matching black lace. Nearly naked.

His Adam’s apple worked as he studied me at length. Then he stepped closer, thumbed a nipple through the rough material of my bra. Lightly. Gently. The ghost of a touch.

I threw back my head and groaned. Hot sizzling energy sliced through me from tits to ass. Cream dampened my inner thighs. I pressed my legs together and a shudder racked me.

He smiled and took my hand in his. “I think it’s time. I think you’re ready.” He led me to an overstuffed ottoman in front of the overstuffed couch. He sat and looked up at me, patting his lap. “You know what to do.”

Dear God. I did. I didn’t want to assume the position.

But I did. Slowly, carefully and with great trepidation, I draped myself over his thighs. They were so firm. I scooted up a little higher and rocked my clit against them. Pleasure and anticipation trickled through me.

He didn’t begin immediately, damn him. Instead he tantalized my ass with that palm, around and around until I wanted to scream with frustration. His fingers, those disquieting digits, traced the band of my panties until I thought for certain I would go mad. In the end, I settled for squirming.

He liked that. He rewarded me with a swift pass over my pussy.

“You’re so wet.” His voice was harsh, hungry.

“What are you waiting for?”

His chuckle resonated to my bones. “Don’t you know?”

I glared at him over my shoulder. He allowed it. For a moment. Then he firmly guided me back into position. He resumed the agonizing stroking until I was a wild thing.