Purely Professional (7 page)

Her hand scrabbled for purchase on the water glass before she was able to pick it up and gulp some down.

“You wanted to give up control, right? This is what it’s like. Some women grow to like the feeling of suspense. You might be one of them.” Just then, the waiter arrived with bread, and Max began buttering a dinner roll. “Have some food, Bridget. You’re going to need your strength.”

Chapter Seven

On the way back home, Bridget kept watching Max’s reflection in the window. The delicious food and wine had made her feel sluggish, but she was still turned on. The way he spoke to her, in that low, husky voice…she thought she might soak through her skirt if she had to wear it much longer. She pressed her knees together just thinking about it.

“No,” he said, his eyes not leaving the road. She looked over at him, curious.

“Keep your knees spread. Lift up your skirt so you’re sitting directly on the seat.”

Bridget did as he asked, the leather cool against her skin.

“Spread your knees wider and pull your skirt up more. I want to see the tops of your stockings.”

A thrill rushed through her as she did as he told her, folding the material until she revealed strips of thighs above the stockings, each leg divided by a vertical garter belt strap. Max glanced over and smiled.

“Much better.” He reached over and rested one hand on her inner thigh. It was the first time he’d touched her there directly, no clothing in the way, and she jumped in surprise. He chuckled. “Easy. I’m not going to hurt you. Not right now, anyway.”

“You surprised me, that’s all.” Bridget tried to keep her voice steady. Max didn’t respond.

Her breath quickened as his fingertips traced up and down her inner thigh, reaching perilously higher and higher but always staying just a little bit away from where she most wanted his touch.

“Oh, what’s this?” Max’s fingers brushed the dampness on her thighs as his fingers strayed up higher than before. “Still excited?”

“Of course.” Bridget struggled to keep her voice light, not wanting him to see the effect he had on her. She breathed faster as his fingers moved closer, then away again, back and forth, back and forth until she thought she’d go crazy if he didn’t touch her. When at last he pulled into his driveway, she had dug her fingers into the leather seat, trying to regulate her breathing. He was smiling a little, that half smile she had seen so often lately. When he took his hand away, it took her a minute to realize that he had stopped. This better not be the end of their evening.

“We’re going to your house,” he said. Sighing with relief, she climbed out of the car. She felt awkward walking back across the lawn, her skin highly sensitized, her heels sinking into the grass. She could feel him close behind her as she let them both inside.

Bridget thought Max was going to kiss her, press her up against the wall and pin her body tight to his, run his hands all over her. She was ready for it. Yet he didn’t do any such thing. She flicked on a light and turned to him, but he didn’t approach.

“Upstairs. Show me your bedroom.”

Her heart began pounding hard as she climbed the stairs, but it had nothing to do with exertion. She wasn’t sure what was about to happen, but she hoped it was a release from this tension. Why, oh why hadn’t she finished herself off before going to see him yesterday?

Thank God she kept her bedroom neat. She watched him look around, and she saw the room anew through his eyes: a bureau decorated with a few pictures, a nightstand with a glass of water, several half-burned candles and the novel she’d been reading, a stack of
Sultry
magazines in the corner. The quintessential bedroom of a woman who lived alone, except for one detail.

“A king-size bed?” Max eyed the biggest feature of the room.

“Everyone deserves a little luxury.” Bridget shrugged.

“True.”

She stood awkwardly, not sure what was going to happen, feeling dizzy with anticipation. Max walked up to her, slowly, and she refrained from backing up, despite the predatory gleam in his eyes. He ran a fingertip down the side of her face, tracing the line of her jaw. He reached up with one hand and pulled the clip from her hair, letting down her twist, her curls tumbling loosely around her face. It was hard to breathe with him standing so close.

When he spoke, he sounded both quiet and commanding. “If you want to continue, you will do what I say. All right?”

Bridget nodded, not trusting her voice.

Max sat on the edge of the bed, one leg drawn up, looking at her.

“Take your heels off.”

She toed them off, her body taut as a bowstring.

“Sit on the bed. In the middle. Be comfortable.” She did so, feeling much more tense than comfortable. He scooted a bit closer. “I want to see your toys.”

Really? All right, then. She opened her bedside drawer and removed the two toys and set them in front of her on the bed. Max slid right next to her. “Tell me about them.”

Bridget picked up her dildo first, the glass cool in her palm. “I guess this is the one I use the most often.” Max held out a hand and she hesitated before passing it over. For some reason, the idea of him touching her toys felt incredibly intimate, more so than anything they’d shared so far. “I like it because it’s heavy, and the glass can be cold or hot depending on what I’m in the mood for. Plus it lasts.”

“You know it’s not glass, right? It’s Pyrex. Borosilicate.”

So he was a scientist now? “Whatever. It’s satisfying.”

Bridget lifted the next, a simple, light pink plastic model, cylindrical with a dial at the bottom to control the speed. “This one’s just your standard vibrator, I guess. It was the first toy I bought. I mean…not this
exact
one, but the same kind. This is actually my third one of these. When they die, I just buy a new one.” She handed it over.

He turned it on and then off again, testing the speed. “You know, you shouldn’t store this with the batteries inside. They won’t last as long.” He handed it back to her.

“Thanks for the tip. You seem to know a lot about these.”

“I have a bit more of a collection than you. And they’re more exciting.” He looked around the room. “You have any matches for those candles?” Max asked, and she nodded. “So go ahead.”

Bridget lit the three candles next to the bed as Max got up and turned off the lights. Max was half in shadow, candlelight flickering over the angles of his face as he sat beside her on the bed.

“What do you want from me?” Her apprehension was apparent in her tone.

“I want you to show me what you do when you’re alone. I want you to touch yourself for me. Finish what we started in the restaurant.” He stretched out on his side, head propped up on his hand.

“Wh-what?” she asked, mouth agape. She hadn’t expected this so soon. And yeah, she’d been okay with it in theory, but she’d never actually done this for any of her partners.

“You heard me.”

The next move was clearly hers. “Should I…take off my clothes?”

“Yes. Start with your blouse.”

“Well, it’s not like you haven’t already seen me, because I didn’t close my blinds…” Bridget began to unbutton her blouse, fingers trembling slightly. Hopefully he wouldn’t notice.

“I could only see your feet. The angle in the window wasn’t right. Tonight I want the full picture.” He gestured. “Go on.”

She dropped the blouse aside before she lost her nerve. She was glad she’d worn the black lace bra, because it made her breasts look fantastic. Apparently he agreed, because he couldn’t take his eyes off her chest.

“The rest of it?”

“Your bra too.”

She reached behind her to unfasten the clasp, taking deep breaths. When she tossed the material aside, his eyes grew even darker, and he ran his tongue over his lips.

“Now lie down.” His voice sounded low and rough as he patted the bed next to him. She lay down, resisting the urge to cover her breasts. “Show me how you pleasure yourself.”

This was it. She wanted to come so badly, but it was hard not to feel self-conscious with him right next to her, staring. She closed her eyes and slid her hands down her body, feeling him watching her, his breath warm on her ear. For easier access, she lifted her skirt, inching her hemline up just far enough that she could reach her aching clit, yet not far enough to reveal anything more than her thighs and the line of her stockings and garter belt.

Bridget sighed with the blissful sensation coursing through her body as she touched herself. She’d been waiting for this for so long, and she let her head roll to the side, her hand moving of its own accord, rolling in small circles.

“Here.” His voice made her jump; she’d nearly forgotten he was there. Max placed the heavy glass dildo into her hand. “I want you to fuck yourself with this.” She inhaled sharply as the cold glass made contact with her superheated flesh, brushing against her clit and then parting her folds, the thick head just slipping inside. “All the way. Tell me what it feels like.”

For a moment, she was so caught up in the sensation that she couldn’t find her breath, pushing the shaft inside inch by inch. “It’s so cold,” she breathed. “And it’s so thick. It makes me feel so full.”

“Do you like that?” His breath tickled the side of her face. Max caught her earlobe between her teeth and she gasped at the current that ran down her body. When he cupped her naked breast, she opened her mouth in a gasp, surprised at the intensity of the sensation. He rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and her pussy clenched around the slick glass. This was nothing like the steady, methodically building climax from her solo sessions; it was an urgent, fierce pleasure that ran through her like lava, bringing her to the edge without any of the usual preamble, and her head spun with the unexpected rush.

“I don’t want you to come yet,” he said, as if he’d read her mind, and she groaned aloud. She went to pull her hand away. “No. Keep rubbing yourself. Just don’t come yet.”

Bridget slowed down, trying to regulate her breathing, trying to hold off her orgasm. It was incredibly hot to lie there and listen to him talk dirty to her as she touched herself. It was hotter than she had imagined it would be, even in her fantasies.

He continued to tweak her nipples, alternating between them, each pinch making her gasp. His voice was velvet-smooth and composed even as she tried not to come apart. “Fuck yourself.” He wrapped his lips around the word “fuck” in a way that was positively indecent. “I want you to slide it all the way in and all the way out, slowly. I want you to imagine that’s me fucking you.” His voice, his words, the slow, hard pull of the dildo, and the tight circles against her clit were combining to drive her absolutely mad.

“You want to come, don’t you?”

She nodded furiously, panting slightly, beyond caring about how she might appear.

“Look at me. I want to see your face.”

Bridget turned her head to him, dazed, and felt her pussy spasm again as she met his eyes. She could tell he wanted her. At that point, though, she couldn’t focus on anything but her own orgasm, shimmering just out of reach. Max smiled.

“Stop.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but something in his eyes told her not to. She stilled her hands.

“Tell me what you want.”

“I want to come.” Her eyes fell closed.

“No.” Her eyes flew open at his sharp tone. “Don’t stop looking at me. I want you to touch yourself again. Get close, but don’t come without permission.”

Relief flooded through her, mingled with the fear that he was going to bring her to that peak again and then stop her. As she continued rubbing her clit, though, all other thought dissolved. Bridget continued fucking herself slowly, watching Max’s face, staring at the ridges of his cheekbones, the fullness of his lips, the edge of his jaw, anywhere but his deep, mesmerizing blue eyes. She felt the familiar tight spiral of pleasure low in her belly. Trying to stave off her orgasm, she slowed her fingers, but the climax still bore down on her, threatening to overwhelm her control. When Max made no move to stop her or give her permission to come, she bit her lip. “Please,” she said at last, the word almost a gasp.

“Please what?” Max’s hand returned to her breast. The pleasure of this touch pushed her right to the edge, and a mewl caught in her throat. She felt overheated, desperate, her body tense and unfulfilled.

“Please, may I come?” She looked fully into his eyes, nearly overcome by the eroticism of the situation.

“Yes. I want to watch you come for me.” He twisted her nipple.

Bridget came immediately, hard, her back arching up off the bed as the world collapsed down around her intense waves of pleasure. She heard herself cry out as if from a distance, unable to think, barely able to breathe, her body dissolving into spasms that seemed unending. Accustomed to a hard climax and immediate release, she was unprepared for the blinding pleasure that washed over her again and again.

When the pleasure eased, what seemed like an hour later, she collapsed back on the bed. What was that? Max was still watching her, his eyes dark with his own arousal.

“How was that?”

“That was…” She sought words, language to describe the sensations. “Incredible,” was all she could generate, the word completely inadequate.

“Have you ever played with yourself in front of another person before?”

“No.” She blushed. How could she blush now, when she hadn’t blushed during any of that?

“Go clean up.”

When she got up, she saw an unmistakable bulge in his pants. So he wasn’t totally unaffected. Of course, if he’d managed to watch
that
and be unaffected, she’d question his sexuality altogether. Bridget walked forward on wobbly knees. The harsh fluorescent lights of the bathroom assaulted her eyes after the dim candlelight, and it took her a moment to see in the near-darkness. She pulled her blouse back on, then cleaned her dildo and set both toys back neatly into her drawer. Max was still lying on her bed, erect in his pants and seemingly unbothered by it.

“I like watching you,” he told her. “You’re absolutely beautiful when you come.”

It was such a thing a lover would say, so much different from what she’d expect to hear from a Dominant, that she was momentarily nonplussed. “Thank you.” She sat back down on the bed next to him.

“I think this will work.” Max nodded to himself, then reached over to run his finger lightly down the back of her neck, making her shiver. “You get off on being told what to do. That’s definitely not true of all women. Have you ever thought you might be a submissive?”