Smug asshole. He gains a ridiculous amount of enjoyment from taunting me. Mount expects me to rebel, even anticipates it. I’m beginning to recognize his tells, so that’s something.
I lift my hand. Using my middle finger, I point to the ball gag lodged in my mouth.
His expression flares with heat. “Fucking finally.”
His phone rings again, and he looks at the receiver.
“And you’re just in time for my next call.” His gaze pins mine. “Get on your knees.”
Again with the power struggle, but this time, I decide to throw him off track, since he thinks he knows exactly what to expect from me.
Today, I’m going to show Mount what it’s like to have his iron-clad control over his body stolen from him.
I hope he doesn’t have any plans to pay attention to this next call, because he’s not going to remember a goddamned thing.
Her red hair doesn’t even begin to do justice to her temper. Keira Kilgore has a fierce fighting spirit, the likes of which I’ve never seen in a woman.
Her little middle-finger salute will earn her a punishment—her least favorite kind, I’m coming to realize. No orgasm. Then she’ll curse me, and I’ll have another reason to bend her over my lap and spank the round ass currently filled with a plug that’s still smaller than my dick, but we’re getting her stretched out.
But first, I’m going to get something I’ve been waiting for since that very first night.
I lower myself back into my chair and nod at the floor between my spread legs. The flare of rebellion in her green gaze tells me that she has plans for me.
It’s exactly the test I need to prove to myself that no matter what happens, she doesn’t have the power to distract me from my business.
She is not a weakness, I vow as she hits her knees. I already feel triumph flowing in my veins as I unbuckle the gag from around the back of her head.
She stretches her jaw one way and then the other, no doubt stiff from wearing a gag for the first time, but I swear it won’t be the last. I don’t always need Keira mouthing off to tell me what she thinks of me; I can read it in her every expression. She has no shield. No mask. Everything is transparent on her face.
Right now, she’s thinking she can destroy my concentration and steal my control.
Never going to happen, hellion.
She does surprise me when she doesn’t attempt to speak. Maybe it’s the Spanish-accented words coming through the phone that I continue to answer with rote responses, or maybe it’s because she’s just that intent on her task. Either way, my quads tense when she flips open the button on my slacks, slides down the zipper, and my dick bobs free. Her red hair spills forward around her face, hiding my cock and her mouth from view.
I’m going to watch as she takes every inch of me down her throat, even if I have to stand and guide it myself, teaching her the tricks to tame her gag reflex.
I bury my hands in her hair, pulling it away from her face as I help guide her movements. She laves the head of my dick with her tongue, and her unpracticed technique fills me with that same conqueror mentality I had when she admitted she’d never tried anal play.