His Every Touch [The Complete Series] (5 page)

“Very good,” Vance felt a surge of pleasure at the
flash of pride that crossed her face. “But we appear to need to work on rule
number four.” He paused, reaching into the top drawer of his desk. He drew out
a key and a piece of paper. “After you get off work, you're to go to this
address. You may stop for dinner, but be at the house no later than six. You
will take off your clothes and leave them by the door. Turn to the right and go
into the living room. You are to sit on the couch and masturbate until I
arrive. Do not stop. I'll be there by seven. You will tell me how many times
you came. If I believe you, we'll fuck. If I don't, I'll spank you. If you fail
to follow any of these orders, I will spank you.”
He leaned forward and tucked a wayward wave behind
her ear. “Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir,” Courtney nodded, eyes unreadable.

***

Vance ignored the incredulous look Emma shot his way
when he announced that he was leaving. He had no doubt that she'd already put
two and two together when she saw Courtney leaving his office, flushed and
smiling. After all, he'd been Emma's one foray into men before renouncing
bisexuality and deciding to stick solely with women. When he thought about it,
that was probably why they had such a great relationship. They'd been honest
with each other from the start and never lost any trust when they'd broken up.
Trust. The essential part of any master / submissive
relationship. He knew he'd earned points today when he'd honored the timeframe
and not punished her, when he'd made sure not to push her too far when he'd
controlled her giving him head. He knew their relationship was going to take
time, though not quite as much as he'd originally thought thanks to their
first, unplanned, encounter. He'd shown her that he wasn't sadistic, that he
was able to engage in sex without being totally controlling. She thought he
cared about her and this was just a kink he used to get off.
She had no idea.
If she ever discovered the truth, she'd never trust
him again. Vance was determined that she not find it out until he was ready to
tell her, when the knowledge wouldn't be enough to break their bond, when the
power he had over her was complete. She would be angry, possibly humiliated,
but she wouldn't be able to walk away.
She'd been a freshman the first time he'd seen her, a
few weeks from turning fifteen and the oldest in her class. He'd been a junior,
barely seventeen, but he'd been enamored. She'd been everything he'd always
wanted. Well-liked for the right reasons: a sweet personality and participation
in everything from student government to cheerleading and cross country. Pretty
but not in the obvious 'look at me' way of most of the other popular girls. His
one friend in high school, Ryan, had told him to ask Courtney out, but he'd
never been able to get up the nerve. Why would she want to go out with him? The
only thing he had going for him was that he was older and might've been able to
work that to his advantage if he'd had the experience and confidence to go with
it. But he didn't. So he'd watched as she dated other boys – Tom Johnson
freshman year and Andrew McClain the end of her sophomore year – and secretly
wished that he was them. After he graduated and went on to college, he tried to
forget her, tried to move on. But every girl he talked to just wasn't the one
he wanted. All he could see were those dark gray eyes and ash blond waves.
Then he'd met Cassie and everything changed. She'd
introduced him to a world he'd never dreamed possible for someone like him.
She'd helped him gain control of his life, of himself. He'd thought he loved
her but when she'd broken up with him just eight months later, he realized that
he still couldn't stop thinking about Courtney. She had been perfect,
everything he'd always wanted. And that's when he'd realized that the only way
he'd truly be happy is if he had her. But he didn't just want to date her, to
romance her. He wanted to show her that he wasn't that same shy awkward boy she
never would have looked twice at in high school.
So he came up with a plan. Every class he aced, every
business contact he made, all of it was part of the end game. Every girl that
he fucked, each time he pushed himself further and further into the master
role, he did so knowing that it would help him reach his goal.
Courtney.
She'd always been the goal. The prize.
Problem was, now that he was well on his way to
having her, he wasn't sure if he still believed that possessing her was what he
truly wanted.

The sky was beginning to darken, and a very conflicted
Courtney Bell sat in the driver's seat of her car, unsure if she wanted to go
through with her new set of instructions. Vance had been very specific and she
had agreed to do what he said. Her pale skin flushed and her pussy throbbed as
she remembered the events of the day.
Walking through the building without panties, the
air cool against her burning lips.
Being called to Vance's office.
Exposing herself to him.
Masturbating while he watched, desperate to make
herself come before her time was up.
Vance forcing her head down on his cock as she
tried to accommodate every beautiful inch of him
.
It had been amazing, she reluctantly admitted, but
every time she had a moment to think about it, she was convinced that it was
moving far too fast. A part of her wondered why she'd let it go this far. Then
she thought of those arctic blue eyes that somehow managed to be hot and cold
all at once, and she shivered. Those eyes held something deeper than Vance had let
on. He was hiding something, she knew, some secret that she suspected was
important. She saw hints of some past hurt, and that tugged at a place deep
inside. It always ended up like this. When she was away from him, the rational
part of her mind would argue against taking the relationship any further, but
once she thought of those eyes, that mouth, the things he could do to her
body...she was lost.
“Fuck,” she breathed, closing her eyes. All of these
conflicting thoughts and emotions were making her head hurt. A ringing from her
purse drew her attention and she answered the phone without looking to see who
was calling.
“What're you doing next week?”
It had been almost eight months since Courtney had
talked to Maggie Black, the energetic red-head who'd been her best friend since
sixth grade.
“Mags?” The knot in Courtney's stomach loosened. She
hadn't realized just how much she'd missed her friend until she heard her
voice. “When did you get back?”
“Last week,” the voice was as breezy as Courtney
remembered, which she found odd since her friend had just spent six months in
Uganda with Doctors Without Borders. Not exactly a vacation, but knowing
Maggie, she'd made every experience as positive as possible. “But I needed time
to process.”
Courtney couldn't help but chuckle. She knew what
Maggie's brand of ‘processing’ entailed. Hell, she had a scar on her ass to
prove it. That had been the last time she let herself get drunk around Maggie.
Thanks to her equally inebriated friend and a stray piece of barbed wire, an
attempt to tip a cow had turned into a trip to the hospital for stitches and a
tetanus shot.
“Anyway, I'm in desperate need of Courtney time, so
what's your schedule like next week?”
When Courtney hung up ten minutes later, she felt
much more relaxed. She looked at the directions Vance had given her. Five days
until Maggie arrived. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She was
going to do this. When Maggie arrived, that's when she'd worry about the wisdom
of what she was doing. Her doubts were locked away to be discussed with her
friend and, until then, she was going to give this a try. After all, it had
been a pleasurable experience so far.

***

Courtney had known, intellectually at least, that
Vance was wealthy, but there was a big difference, she discovered, between
knowing and understanding. His house was huge. Not movie star ostentatious but
at least five times the size of Courtney's place. She used the key he'd given
her and then tapped out the alarm code before turning to see what interior
Vance Forster, youngest ever CEO of the Asgard Corporation, would have for his
home.
Tastefully decorated with what she instinctively knew
to be the most expensive of everything, it didn't really seem like Vance. She
was expecting sleek with minimal furnishings—efficient and straightforward just
like him. With wry amusement, Courtney realized that he must've hired someone
to do his decorating for him. She took a step forward, as if to explore, then
remembered his directions. She shrugged out of her jacket and reached for the
buttons on her blouse. Her fingers still for a moment, a sudden uneasiness
coming over her.
“Hello?” She whispered the word, cringing at how loud
it sounded in the otherwise silent house. When she didn't hear an answer, she
spoke again, this time louder. After nearly a full minute, she was satisfied
that she was alone and resumed her disrobing. Her clothes made a neat pile next
to the door, and she shivered as the cool air caressed her bare skin, not in
small part due to the nature of what she'd done and in anticipation of what she
was going to do next.
The plush gray carpet was soft under her bare feet
but disappeared as soon as she stepped into the living room. An area rug sat in
front of a large stone fireplace, but polished hardwood floors ran the length
of the rest of the room. Rich pine paneling dotted here and there with what she
was sure were pricey paintings. The furniture alone was probably worth more
than her entire apartment building and for a moment she worried about where to
sit. Then she saw them. In the center of the deep blue-gray couch were two
soft-looking dove-gray towels, and she instinctively knew they were for her.
She was also sensing a color theme.
Her eyes darted to the large bay window at the front
of the living room, relaxing when she saw that it had been covered by heavy
dark blue curtains. Feeling a bit more secure, she crossed to the couch and
reached for the towels. She didn't let her brain analyze what she was doing,
forcing it to focus on the details. Opening the first towel and spreading it
across the back of the couch. Re-folding the second so that it was doubled-over
and lining it up beneath the first.
She took a deep breath and sat down. The material
tickled her bare skin as she squirmed to make herself comfortable. From where
she sat, she could see an ornate clock hanging on the wall. A quarter till six.
She was early and allowed herself a small smile. Vance should like that. She
inhaled deeply, in through the nose, letting it out slowly through her mouth,
and then did it again. The butterflies in her stomach were starting to calm.
She leaned back and closed her eyes, letting herself sink into the couch as her
muscles relaxed.
Her fingers ran over the top of one full breast, down
to her nipple. She circled the darker flesh, feeling it harden under her
fingertips. As she closed her index finger and thumb around the tip, she let
her imagination wander.
He watched her with lust-filled eyes as he bent
his head forward. Blue-black hair brushed over her skin, erupting her flesh in
goosebumps. The moment his lips took her nipple into his mouth, a jolt of
pleasure shot straight through her. He tugged at the tip, stretching it,
scraping over it with his teeth, each new sensation having a direct line to the
growing ache between her legs.
Courtney dropped her free hand, palm skimming over
her stomach, past her bellybutton to the pale curls covering her mound. She
whimpered as her fingers came in contact with her clit. The slow circular
motion came without thought, sending little sparks of electricity racing along
her nerves.
His head descended between her legs, the tip of
his tongue teasing around her swollen nub. Each little flick across the top
propelled her that much closer to the edge. When he took the little bundle of
nerves into his mouth and sucked, his fingers tightened on her nipple and she
came.
“One,” she whispered, muscles twitching. The hand on
her clit moved lower, combing through the thin hair, fingers delving between
her folds until they were slick with her juices. She moved her other hand to
the opposite breast, fingers tugging at the hard little pebble, and slid her
middle finger into her pussy.
He worked one long finger into her cunt, hissing
at the wet heat. “I can feel you gripping my finger,” his voice was low in her
ear. “The muscles working to keep me there, clinging every time I pull out.” To
prove his point, he slowly drew his hand back and her body protested the loss.
When he began to work the digit in and out, she parted her legs to give him
better access.
Her legs fell open and a second finger joined the
first. Her pussy stretched, welcoming the addition. As the heel of her hand
brushed over her clit, her muscles tensed and a second orgasm washed over her.
“Two,” Courtney continued to thrust her fingers into
her cunt, remembering Vance's instruction that she not stop. Her thoughts of
him took a different path as she imagined what he might have in store for her.
Her arms and legs were tied to each of the bed
posts, leaving her exposed, spread-eagle for all to see. But only he was there
to see her, eyes darkened to an almost night-sky blue. Not that she could see
him. He'd left her facedown, nipples hard bullet points against the silk
sheets. The first crack against her ass startled her more than it hurt. The
second one stung and she yelped. “Tsk, tsk,” he didn't bother to hide the
amusement in his voice. “I said no noise. You've been a bad girl and need to be
punished.”
Courtney bit back a cry as her back arched, body
stiffened.
“
I don't think a spanking is enough, do you?” His
fingers played between her legs, tips teasing around her entrance, but never
going inside. When he ran an index finger up between her cheeks, her entire
body jerked. Then, just the sensation of pressure against her puckered hole
sent her body over the edge again. She couldn't stay silent as he pushed one
dripping finger past the tight ring of muscle into her ass. Her hips bucked up
involuntarily, shoving his finger deeper and her body exploded. With his finger
still inside her, he buried his cock in her pussy with one swift thrust, the
full sensation rocketing her to new heights
.
Another orgasm rolled over her, a continuation from
the last or a new one she didn't know, and she let her fingers slide from her
pussy. Sopping wet, she reached further down and teased at her asshole. She'd
never tried masturbating with something there before, but ever since she'd
written that letter to Vance saying that she'd let him fuck her ass, the idea
had been tugging at the edges of her mind.
His cock, coated with her juices, took the place
of the finger at her ass. The first nudge made her want to tense up, but he
made soothing noises, his hand on her back, moving in comforting circles on the
small of her back. Then, just as she'd finally relaxed, he buried himself in
her ass in one thrust and she screamed, pain and pleasure burning through her.
He was splitting her in two, filling her more completely than she'd ever been
filled. She wanted him to pull out but never wanted him to move. Every stroke
sent fire and electricity racing over her nerves until she wanted to cry.
Her hands abandoned her breasts as she shoved two
fingers into her cunt, alternating strokes between the two holes. She barely
realized that she was crying out his name as she came again. She withdrew both
sets of fingers, muscles turned to jelly. She needed a bathroom. As she stood,
she remembered her instructions. A glance at the clock told her that it was
only six thirty. She still had another half hour before Vance arrived and she
wasn't supposed to stop masturbating until then.
The first touch of her finger to her clit made her
body twitch. It was sensitive, swollen from the stimulation. But he'd told her
that if she stopped, he'd spank her. As much as the fantasy had turned her on,
it wasn't something she actually wanted to experience. Knowing how ridiculous
she looked but not caring, Courtney began to walk, one hand between her legs as
she searched for a bathroom. She found a sink rather quickly and washed her
hands. Then, still gently rubbing her clit, she made her way back to the living
room. There was a dull burn in her ass as she sat, but she forced herself to
admit that she'd liked it. That's what it was about this whole situation, she
thought. There were things that she'd never have tried on her own, but that
she'd ended up liking, almost as if Vance understood her better than she did
herself.
The friction between her legs was less pleasant now,
laced with an edge of pain, but she still found herself coming, the pain
turning it into something else, something darker and more intense than she'd
felt before. Her wrists and arms were aching as she stared at the clock,
willing the big hand closer and closer to the twelve, desperate for Vance to
arrive, to be allowed to stop. Her body felt like it was on fire, every touch
of her over-sensitized clit and pussy sending tears streaming down her cheeks,
but still she didn't stop.
When she heard the front door close, she nearly
sobbed in relief, every cell in her body begging for the relief that only Vance
could bring. She couldn't hear him, but she knew he was there, could feel his
eyes on her. Instinct told her that acknowledging his presence wasn't a good
idea but, as her body cried out for mercy, she couldn't stop herself from
begging.
“Please,” she sobbed. “Please, please...” The word
continued to fall from her lips even as her exhausted body pushed itself to the
brink once more.
“One more time and you can stop,” Vance's voice was
soft as he stepped out of the shadows and into her eye line.
“Thank you,” she gasped, her limbs going rigid as
another orgasm ripped through her. “Thank you.” Her hands fell to her sides,
fingers wrinkled and wet, the muscles in her hands and arms cramping. Her
suddenly vacant pussy pulsed, contracted. The relief of being allowed to stop
was so intense, fresh tears started streaming down Courtney's cheeks.
“Oh, baby.” He stepped closer, eyes fixed where
Courtney's legs were splayed apart. “Your pussy's so red and swollen, your clit
so engorged, I can see it.”
Her hands fluttered as if to cover herself but she
didn't even possess the strength to close her legs. When Vance ran the tip of
his finger over her slit, she whimpered, body jerking in response to contact
with overly sensitive flesh.
“Look at me,” his voice held the now-familiar quiet
authority.
She did as he asked. She didn't think she could sit
up. Moving her head had taken way too much energy and she doubted she'd be able
to muster enough to do much more.
“How many?”
She knew the question should've made sense. After
all, something was tugging at a memory in the back of her mind. It was
important, she knew, but it escaped her.
He raised an eyebrow, features hardening when he
realized that she didn't understand the question. “How many times did you
come?”
Shit. Frantically, she tried to count, but her brain
was still so scrambled that she felt lucky to be able to remember her name.
Five? That seemed reasonable. Right?
“Five,” she tried to keep her tone confident. One
look at his face, however, told her that she didn't lie as well as she thought
she did.
Double shit.
He sat on the couch next to her without a word, eyes
dark with something dangerous that sent a shiver through her. She couldn't tell
if it was fear, desire or a little of both. She suspected the latter. He stared
at her for almost a full minute before speaking.
“Did I, or did I not, instruct you to count the
number of orgasms you had while masturbating this evening?”
“Yes, Sir,” she whispered, her mouth dry.
“And yet, when I ask for your count, you lie to me?”
He waited for her to protest, but she kept her mouth firmly closed. “I told you
that if you disobeyed, I would punish you. Let's see if we can jog your
memory.”
In a movement fast enough to startle her, he reached
over and picked her up. Less than a second later, she was on his lap,
face-down, bare ass in the air. A sense of horror washed over her as she
realized what he was going to do. A voice in her head reminded her that she'd
agreed to this, but another part of her countered that she'd thought it was all
play, that he'd never go through with it.
She was an idiot.
“I think five to start with.” His hand caressed her
bottom, and he chuckled as she tensed. “And let's make sure you do know how to
count. Call out each one. If you forget or miscount, we start again.
Understand?”
“Yes, Sir.” She couldn't quite keep her voice steady
this time. Her mind was spinning, arguing with itself as one part protested
what she was allowing him to do while another part, a newer part, was actually
curious. So lost in her own head was she that she didn't feel his hand leave
her ass; the first blow caught her entirely by surprise.
“Ah!” It stung more than hurt, but the shock caused
her to cry out.
“Count.” His voice held a warning and she remembered
what he'd said.
“One.”
“Don't make me warn you again.”
The second smack was harder, landing on her left
cheek.