Hostile Takeover by Hill, W (best novels to read for students .TXT) 📕

of winning the war. Closing her eyes again so he wouldn’t see the tears of frustration, she relented. “Please, sir. You come first. Let me serve you.”

Just like that, he released her hair, put his hand back on her nape so she was forced to look at the floor. When he started thrusting again, she began to come within three strokes.

She couldn’t resist him, the internal muscles in her pussy and ass clenching down so hard, the one on empty space, the other on the massive size of him. It was indescribable, how it felt to have him there. The toys she used, they’d been rigid, unyielding, no matter how lifelike. He was living, pulsing, heated flesh, and it galvanized her reaction to a level she’d never experienced before. A long, never-ending wail tore out of her throat. She couldn’t bite it back, even if she’d wanted to do so, her vocal cords pushed to the max, the same way he was pushing all of her body. She convulsed against him, completely lost.

Still massaging her clit, he slid two of his fingers into her pussy. It shot her over another edge. He thrust into her ass, then slid almost all the way out. Back in, each pass ripping another sound from her throat, another wave of her climax. She clamped down on him, working for her Master, wanting to give him pleasure. She was forming words among the screams, single words that meant so much to her. “Master…fuck…yours…God…”

Then words weren’t possible. With an expulsion of harsh breath, a primal grunt, he began to release. His hips were slamming against her abused ass, driving her forehead harder into the mat, his other hand now clamped around her boxed forearms to keep from putting additional duress on her neck, an amazing awareness of her even when he was obviously letting go, pushing them both to their limits. She reveled in his groan of pleasure, the way his fingers convulsed on her, the heat that she knew had to be his seed. The flood of his semen was enough to make her cry out anew, and he muttered a savage, gasping oath, responding to her.

He kept going for quite awhile, long past his completion, as if he was savoring the clench of her muscles over his still-hard cock, prolonging and underscoring her surrender to him. For her, time slowed to a dreamy haze. Her climax spiraled down to intense aftershocks, but her body kept jerking from his thrusts. He didn’t pull out until long after all those aftershocks had faded to a low tide of pleasurable ripples through her stomach. When he did finally withdraw, a soft noise of discomfort broke from her lips, that tight ring of muscles contracting, burning. Suddenly she was aware of just how sore she was. Inside and out. It almost made her smile, but she was too exhausted.

He didn’t lie down with her, but he did lift her back onto the massage table, laying her on her stomach. One palm settled on her buttock, holding her in place. She heard Rachel’s quiet voice at the door a moment later, and his touch slipped away. He was leaving her aftercare to Jon’s wife. She’d called him Master again, and he was punishing her for that.

“You promised,” she whispered.

“What?” Ben squatted near her head, his hand gentle on her hair, thumb stroking her temple. His other hand rested on the edge of the table and she let hers creep up, cover two of his fingers. His glance went to the touch, then back to her face. Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to the corner of her eye, and she realized he was kissing away the track of a tear. She trembled beneath his mouth, but when he drew back, those eyes still so close, she swallowed, spoke.

“The club. You said you’d take me.”

“I said I’d think about it,” he corrected, giving her that sexy stern schoolmaster look.

“How much longer are you going to think about it?”

His gaze narrowed, but her stomach eased, seeing a flicker of humor. She lifted her hand, traced the serious mouth. Too serious. Too stern. “You don’t smile as much as you used to.”

She knew she was floating, but that was the way it was after something like that. At least she’d read it was this way, overheard discussions about it. Savannah, Rachel, Dana and Cass, having their monthly tea parties on the back deck, underneath her bedroom window. It had been easy enough to crack the window that tiny amount needed and sit below the sill to listen. It became an irresistible regular habit, particularly when she finally heard the words that told her what her feelings were. Submissive cravings. They had access to a whole candy shop outside her reach, but at least she’d been able to press her nose to the glass, learn what was waiting for her there. She’d dreamed of the day she could join them.

“I have a lot more annoyances than I used to have.” He tugged on a lock of her hair.

“No, that’s not it. Your heart…it’s all closed up. But it’s okay. I’m here. When are you taking me to the club?”

His glance shifted, as if her comments had elicited some type of reaction from Rachel, but then he was back to studying her face. His thumb traced over that tear track. “We’ll talk about it later. Rachel is going to take care of you now. You rest. That’s an order. You’re not going to work tomorrow.”

“Hmm.” She had another contract to finish. She didn’t want him to have to cover her work. Plus, there was something else she owed him. But he was too good at reading her.

“You want me to mentor you, from this moment on, you obey my orders. Got it? No work tomorrow. Say it.”

She bit her lip in frustration, but he had that look on his face, and she knew she couldn’t refuse it. “No work tomorrow, sir.”

He made a point