It made me want to crawl onto his lap and kiss him hard on those spectacular lips of his. Yes, he was out of my league physically, but for some reason this man had found something in me he liked well enough to come here and be with me in person. I vowed to embrace the whole experience, and worry about the future later. I needed to live in the present.
“You’re perfect. And I love this hotel.” I stopped myself from saying “I love you,” though a part of me wanted to. I didn’t need to send him running screaming out of the room just yet.
The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled at me. “You are too… perfect that is.”
I made a little snorting noise, which would have made my mother faint on the spot it was so decidedly unladylike.
“Sophie, you are lovely, prettier than I even imagined you would be. But, as you know, it’s not what you look like that interests me.”
My eyebrows rose.
He leaned into me and growled, “It’s how well you can follow my instructions, how hungry and desperate you are to show me what a dirty little whore you are. That’s what matters to me.”
My breathing grew erratic again, and I simply nodded. I did know that, and it made me want to straddle him, run my fingers through his dark hair and take him deep inside me.
“Finish your drink,” he said clamping his palm down possessively on my knee under the table.
“Yes, sir,” I said, eager to be alone with him. I polished off the last of my drink in one gulp, trying to be smooth, but failing miserably as part of it went down the wrong way.
“Slow down.” He patted me on the back as I sputtered, and I thought I saw a twinkle of amusement in his eye. At least I could entertain him.
He flagged down the waiter and asked for the check. He wrote his room number, our room number, on the white slip of paper and set it on the table. “Are you ready to continue your training?”
I managed to nod. “Yes, sir.”
“Very well.” He pushed back his chair, stood, and came over to help me up. His touch jolted me back from what felt like a dream. Suddenly this was very real, and I accompanied this man, who was in some ways a total stranger, to his hotel room.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
He wrapped his big fingers around my small ones and led me from the dining room through the lobby. His frame moved with a confident grace I’d only seen in a couple of Shelby’s athletes. He pressed the button with the “up” arrow, and we stood side by side, waiting for an elevator. Though my focus was on him, I couldn’t help but notice how both women and men alike reacted to him as they passed. The women’s eyes followed him with open appreciation, while the men looked past him purposely, or at the ground, pretending they didn’t notice him. But I could tell they had.
I was excited, and I squeezed his hand, dropping any pretense that I was calm and experienced with this sort of thing.
He squeezed back and glanced down at me before returning his gaze to the bank of elevators.
Another couple came and stood next to us, talking with one another. Then another man holding a briefcase joined the group of us waiting for an open car.
When the light above one of the elevators lit up and the doors opened, I took a step forward only to be stopped by Quentin’s outstretched arm. The three other people got on, and as they turned to face us, the man with the briefcase asked, “Going up?”
Quentin favored the elevator occupants with a dazzling smile. “We’ll wait for the next one.”
The man shrugged, the couple went back to chatting, and the elevator doors closed.
“There was room…” I said, then bit my tongue, realizing that he wanted to be alone with me. My knees felt weak and I looked for something to hold on to, but found nothing other than his hand, which I gripped tighter.
He ignored me and the next time one of the elevator doors opened he held a hand out to me in a ladies-first gesture. I got on and walked to the back of the car where there was a bar that I could hold on to if I needed it.
The doors to the elevator closed, and we were all alone. Rather than facing forward as was customary, he stepped toward me, invading my personal space in a way that made me dizzy.
Wanting to kiss him, I leaned in and lifted my arms to embrace him.
To my surprise, he caught one of my arms in the air and clutched my wrist tight. “Ouch!”
With his free hand he pulled my body close to his, holding my other hand behind my back. Looking down at me, he sneered, “You want kisses? You will have to earn them, my dear.”
I huffed indignantly, but a voice in the back of my mind asked, What did I expect? This man and I were not engaged in a romance-and-flowers courtship. In fact, quite the opposite was true. My purpose was to serve him, to submit to him. There would be no changing the rules here with this man.
I tried to center myself and remember what to do. His handsome looks swept me off my feet, and for a moment downstairs I felt like the heroine in a romance novel, instead of the sex slave I’d agreed to be in real life.
“Sorry, sir.”
Pressing on my shoulder, he forced me to my knees before turning and pressing a button that halted the elevator. When the elevator creaked to a stop, panic set in. If the elevator ceased to run, the hotel would have people working to fix it. In a matter of minutes, they would be overrun by workers trying to get the elevator operational again. The hotel staff would probably know they did it. How embarrassing! Really, they needed to get to their room where they could be alone together in private.
“Hands behind your back,” he said, as I knelt on the floor. His voice was mild, which helped calm me.
“Quentin!” It was the first time I’d said his name aloud, and I hated that it was said in protest.
“Sophie,” he said my name with an exasperated sigh, and my heart sank. We were off to a bad start. “If you don’t want to do this…”
I pictured him getting off the elevator at the next floor and walking out of my life forever. Desperation sprang up inside me and I blurted out, “I’m sorry, Sir.” And I clasped my hands behind my back.
I tried to quiet the pounding of my heart by clearing my mind and staring straight ahead like a robot. Don’t feel, just obey. Ignore everything but him. Trust him.
He placed a hand on my head, not exactly petting me like a dog, but reminding me my place was beneath him. On my knees. My pussy creamed, and I licked my lips as I heard the zipper to his pants.
“Open your mouth.”
It was a simple command, and I obeyed. Before I knew it, he’d opened the front of his pants, and his cock sprang through the hole in the front of his underwear. Suddenly my mouth went dry and I had to close it to swallow. I opened it again quickly, but instead of giving his cock to me, he slapped me on my cheek with it.
A surge of frustration and desire rushed to my groin. I pushed my tongue forward, hoping he would let me at least lick him. I wanted to taste him.
Another slap, first on the same cheek, then the other. I groaned.
“You’re such a greedy girl.” He held the beautiful mushroom head of his cock centimeters away from my mouth, so that I could tilt my head forward and lick it. A tiny bead of pre-cum topped the head and I slurped it up. “I like that about you.” He pushed his cock toward my face, and with his fingertips guiding me, slid it between my lips.
Hungrily, I devoured him, my mouth quickly filling with saliva as I worked the underside of his shaft with my tongue. His hips pressed into me, fucking my face at whatever pace he chose. I relaxed my throat as best I could so I could take more of him. When his prick hit the back of my throat I heard him make a strangled noise that I interpreted as positive reinforcement.
One thrust went too far, igniting my gag reflex. A chilly tremor rankled through my body and my nipples hardened with a ferocity that made my breasts cry out to be touched. I heard him chuckle and go deep again. My throat accommodated him this time, but soon I struggled to breathe.