Paid For
Page 6I’m back to pacing and counting down the seconds until finally I hear a small knock on my door. I turn to see Kennedy standing in the doorway of my office.
“Good morning, Mr. Foster.”
I swallow hard and look her up and down. She’s in the same tight skirt as yesterday, with another cream-colored top that’s a size too small. She must have put on weight since she bought the clothes, because she’s nearly spilling out of everything. Her curves are exaggerated by her tight waist, and I can’t help but think she’d look even better with about twenty more pounds added on to her. I’d love to see her a little bit fuller in something that hugs her body just right. Even though she is falling out of the too-tight outfit, she’s still a little small. I could tell she would fill out perfectly. She’d have a body made to be taken by a man of my size.
“Have you eaten?” I ask her, my voice low and husky.
“No, sir. I’m, um, on a diet.” She blushes, and I stomp over to my desk to grab my phone.
“Shut the door,” I say without looking at her. If I turn around, I won’t be able to control myself. I hear the click of the door, and then a voice on the phone answers. “Send up breakfast. Everything on the menu.”
When I slam the phone down, I turn around to see Kennedy’s still over by the door and looking frightened. That won’t work. I take a breath and try to calm myself. I want her to like me. No, I need her to like me.
Her dark hair is pulled back in a low ponytail, and her dark eyes are looking anywhere but at me. I clench my fists, trying to keep from reaching for her and explaining myself.
“Right, let’s go over some rules. You’ll eat three times a day, at minimum. I want to make sure you’re getting enough, so I will need to monitor your food intake. You’ll eat in front of me at each meal.”
She nods nervously and twists her fingers together.
Again her cheeks color, but she agrees. “Yes, Mr. Foster.”
“You can call me Mason when the office door is closed. Or Sir.”
Her dark eyes come to mine, and I feel the heat flow between us. She’s thinking about yesterday, and I am, too. I’m ready to bend her over and get my dick wet, but she needs to eat first.
“Your things will be moved to my building today. After yesterday, I decided I will need you throughout the night.”
I watch as her feet move a centimeter and her thighs press together. I know she’s wet; I can almost smell her cunt from here.
“Kennedy?” I ask, wanting her agreement.
“Yes, Mason.”
My name sounds like caramel on her tongue, and I want her to lick my balls as she says it. The thought has me tenting the front of my slacks obscenely, and I don’t bother to adjust it. Her eyes roam down my suit to where my arousal is showing, and for a second her eyes widen. She looks away quickly, as if to hide that she noticed, and the shy act both irritates and turns me on. It makes me mad because I think about her doing this with other men. Has she done it before? Pretended to be innocent and played a part? But then it also turns me on, because as much as she may be pretending to be innocent, I know she’s mine. And she’s been hired to fulfill all my needs.
Before I can say another word, there’s a knock on the door. “That will be breakfast. Get the door, Kennedy.”
A young guy wheels in the large tray stacked high with covered dishes. He pushes it over to the table I have in my office and starts to move the dishes over.
“Leave it,” I say, holding up a hand. He pauses and sets the plate back down on the tray and nods at me.
“Yes, Mr. Foster.”
He glances over at Kennedy, and for a second I want to rip his eyes out. But he only gives her a polite smile before exiting my office and closing the door behind him.
“Okay, Kennedy,” I begin as I lean back in my chair. “I want you to hike that skirt up, then sit down. Spread your thighs and show me your pussy while you eat.”
Chapter Five
Mason
Her mouth falls open a little, but she composes herself quickly. The pink staining her face, however, can’t be hidden. God, she’s fucking good at innocence. I didn’t know one could fake a blush.
“Yes, Mason.”
“Unbutton the blouse, too. I want to see your nipples.”
I watch her every move as she steps over to the chair and sits down.
“Spread them,” I growl, hating the anticipation.
She spreads her legs, and I see her panties. Irritation hits me.
“I said I wanted to see your cunt. Don’t you hide it from me.”
Quickly, Kennedy stands up and removes the white cotton. I notice her breathing picks up.
“Bring them to me,” I say, holding my hand out. She steps slowly in front of me, gently placing the soft material in my hand. “Good girl.”
I reach over and pat her on the bottom as she turns and walks back to the chair. She sits the same way as before, her legs spread wide and her wet pussy on display. She likes this. Being told what to do is turning her on. Her pussy can’t hide that. Even if she is being paid to be here, she still wants this. Her fingers go to the buttons of her shirt, but she fumbles with them. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">