“I suspect whenever we make an appearance.” I stand and get dressed.
Madison dons a blue dress that belongs to Ruby.
“No.” I shake my head, surveying her. “I want the window.”
She puts her hands on her hips. I’m more relieved than I care to admit when I see traces of amusement around her pretty lips. “Now you want windows?”
I give her a casual shrug. “I’m already going to be dining with blue balls, I might as well enjoy the view.”
This wins me a definite smirk, and I’m gratified when she complies. Looks like I am still her boss. Satisfaction rushes in, so much sweeter after nearly losing her.
She pulls on her window dress from yesterday, and I walk over, unable to resist touching. I reach for her waist and slide my hands up and down her sides. I turn her away from me and cup one breast from behind. “Now that you’re unfireable,” I murmur in a low growl in her ear, “I’ll be dealing with your insubordination and disobedience my way.”
“What way is that?” There’s honey in her voice.
“Guess.”
Her breath catches, and she squirms, wiggling her soft ass against my lap. The scent of her arousal makes my dick punch out hard against my zipper.
I cup her pussy possessively, and she grinds against my palm. I grind back. “You guessed correctly,” I murmur.
I listen to the way she holds her breath then releases it in a rush. I work her breast with one hand while my other slides up her skirt to slip inside her panties.
So much for letting her rest.
“Expect punishment,” I growl. She’s wet, and the tip of my finger sinks in without me even trying. I press the heel of my hand over her clit as I arc my finger in and out of her. “Flying out here and going out in a blizzard-twice-is going to get you punished.” I fingerfuck her a little faster. “You don’t get to come again,” I decree. “Not when it’s punishment. You’re going to be as needy as I am at dinner.” I remove my hands from her and straighten her dress.
My beautiful assistant is out of breath, panting. When she turns to look at me, her eyes are dilated and bright. “I have to confess, I um, may be out of my depth with you in this regard.”
“You’re out of your depth with me in every regard, but that never stops you,” I tell her, like the cocky bastard that I am. “You hold the cards, though. But you knew that the first time I asked you not to wear this.” I trace the outline of the window, ending with the pad of my finger between her breasts and staying there.
“Asked?” She snorts. “You didn’t ask. You told.”
“And you disobeyed,” I toss back with a smirk. I’m so relieved to have the familiar volley of point and counterpoint between us that I feel all warm and generous.
* * *
Madi
I turn to face my boss. “How are you going to punish me?” I rest my palms on his abs like I did the day I spilled the water on him, exploring the glorious planes. My voice has a sex-kitten purr I’m not sure I’ve ever used before. I don’t think of myself as a sex kitten, but Brick makes me feel like one. No, he makes me feel like more than a kitten-a goddess.
“How will I punish you?” He arches one brow. “With my tongue and my cock.” He takes one of my wrists and wraps it behind my back, using it to pull me up against his firm body. With the other hand he cups my face and kisses my breath away.
He does it so thoroughly and so well that I nearly forget my own name.
“Th-that seems generous.”
He kisses me again, walking me backward until my legs hit the bed. “You may not think so after I fuck you so hard you can’t walk straight.”
My belly flutters.
Yes. Yes, please. I want all of his punishments. Every. Last. One.
Boldly, I reach for his cock. “Maybe we should take care of those blue balls.” His member thickens, pressing into my palm through the fabric of his pants.
Brick’s eyes seem to glow. “I didn’t say you could touch.” His voice is a low, gruff rumble that rolls through me.
I immediately remove my hand, but he presses it back. “You can touch.”
He pulls my dress off over my head as I trace the outline of his cock through his trousers. He slides one finger under the strap of my bra and flicks it down my shoulder. “These breasts.”
“What about them?”
He flicks the other strap down, just as casually, then yanks the two cups down simultaneously. “They taunt me every. Damn. Day.”
My breasts start heaving for him, like we’re in a Regency romance novel, and I’m about to swoon from being spoken to so boldly.
He cups them both, stroking my nipples with his thumbs. “They’re perfection,” he murmurs. “I knew they would be, and you didn’t disappoint. But you never do, do you, Windows?”
“Um..” It’s hard to put thoughts together when we’re this close. When he’s undressing me, and I know what’s coming. “I’m just that good, I guess.”
His lips tick up. I absolutely adore when he smiles because it happens so rarely. He works the clasp of my bra off in the back and lets it fall to the floor. I’m not wearing shoes because my boots were still soaked from the snow, so I’m left in nothing but my panties.
“Bend over, little girl. I’m going to spank that sweet ass of yours.”
I nearly go dizzy with lust. But I have more pride than that. “I-I don’t answer to little girl,” I remind him.
His eyes glitter with dark intent. “You do now.” He puts his hands on my hips and slowly rotates me to face the bed. Pushing my torso over it, he hooks his thumbs in the waist of my thong and tugs it down and off my legs. On his way back up, he kisses up one inner thigh, then uses his thumbs to open my thighs and lick into my core.
I let out a warbled moan-sigh. He smacks my ass as he licks, and I cry out. The mixture of pain and pleasure is a delicious combination I wouldn’t have ever tried had it not been for him. Like the first time someone introduced me to ranch dressing with fries. Or sea salt and chocolate.
He continues to bathe me with his tongue as he spanks me, adding his thumb on my clit to the mix to drive me absolutely wild. In no time, I am writhing, my hips twisting, legs trembling. I’m desperate for more than his tongue between my legs.
“Please. Brick,” I beg.
“What do you need, sweet girl?”
Sweet girl? I’m stunned by his affection tonight.
I’m also dying here.
“I-I need you.”
“Now you know how I feel every time you wear those cock-tease dresses.”
“I’m sorry.” I forget to hold my ground. I’m too desperate for him to deliver me the orgasm my body is chasing.
He slaps my ass one more time and stands. “You want me to alleviate that ache I created, little girl?”
There he goes with the little girl thing again. But I’m helpless to even protest. “Yes.”
I hear the rip of a condom wrapper. “I’m using protection,” he tells me, as if to reassure me. I appreciate the courtesy.
He drags the head of his sheathed cock through my juices, and I moan at the sensation. The velvety hardness I crave there. I arch my back, pushing my hips back to meet his.
“Oh I’m going to give it to you, Windows.” He eases in.
My breath catches at the stretch and the sweetness.
He catches my hip with one hand. “I’m going to give it to you hard. This is punishment, remember?”
God, yes!
I choke on a little cry of excitement when he thrusts all the way in. Despite his words, he’s going slowly, giving me time to adjust to taking him fully before he starts to pump in earnest.
When he does, I’m in ecstasy. The rhythmic thrusts satisfy me at first then drive me wild as my need builds. Brick pulls out and flips me around, lifting one of my knees over his arm to spread me wide. I’m sitting on the edge of the bed, and he’s standing over me so that when he lines his cock up and drills down into me, it goes deep.
I gasp and pant, claw at his thighs, his forearms. I’m seized with that panic that comes on the moment before I really come-when I’m terrified of losing control but realize it’s too late.
Brick must see it on my face because he pounds into me harder, locking gazes with me, his eyes glowing with a strange trick of the light. The eye contact terrifies me even more. The intensity.
I’m completely vulnerable to this man-not just sexually. Not financially. But emotionally. I’m afraid I’ll let him see the real me, and he’ll find me inadequate.
I hold my breath.
My orgasm crashes through me, and the panic washes into pleasure. Into trust and contentment. Deep satisfaction.
“Thank you,” I find myself saying before I check the words.
But I am grateful. I’m awash in gratitude and softness.
Brick leans forward and presses a static kiss to my lips again. He makes contact and holds a beat. It’s not perfunctory, it’s more like a reassurance. Like he saw my fear, and it was unfounded.
He won’t be cruel with me anymore. Not tonight, anyway.
Madi
Blackthroat holds my hand when we go out to the dining room. I try to ignore the crazy things it does to my insides. The excitement and flutters it produces. The nerves.
I felt a little sick with myself over demanding more pay. I don’t know-it cheapened things in a way I didn’t anticipate. Here Blackthroat had just bared his soul to me-or as much as I suspect he ever bares it-and I’d thrown things back into the employer-employee realm. As if he hadn’t just saved my life, been worried sick over me and then made me come.
I’m self-reflective enough to know it was a defense mechanism. Keeping the game firmly in place helps me find my footing. I can be his administrative assistant. I’m very good at it. But I don’t really know how to be his lover. Or someone he might care about. In fact, it terrifies me. I both want it and don’t want it at the same time.
Because this is a guy who, if I let him in, could really destroy my heart. And I’m not going to be that young woman my mom was-left pregnant and alone by her rich boyfriend whose family didn’t deem her worthy.
Also… whoa. He cares about me? At least, enough to not want me to die in a helicopter or snow storm. This is a guy who hates most everyone, so I am taking that as the hugest compliment ever, whether it means he has actual, deep feelings for me or just a passing attraction and doesn’t want me to die.
When we reach the living room, a small boy playing on the carpet jumps up and cries, “Uncle Brick!” He runs, takes one vaulting step on the couch and hurls his little body through the air, over a coffee table in the craziest flying leap I’ve ever seen.
Blackthroat catches him and spins around. “Whoa, buddy. That was fast. I almost didn’t see you coming.”
My heart squeezes. There’s something so meltingly sexy about discovering a gruff alpha-hole has a sweet side with children.
“Oh my God, did you see how far he flew?” I exclaim. Because, seriously. I’ve never seen a kid jump that far. I swear he just vaulted fifteen feet. Maybe my spatial orientation is off. “How was that possible? You have a superkid for a nephew.”
“Madison, this is Auggie, short for August. He’s Ruby and Eagle’s son.”
“Hi Auggie. Your Uncle Brick calls me Madison, but I prefer Madi.”
Blackthroat’s lips twitch,and he settles a hand on my lower back. I find it both protective and comforting. Almost-dare I say-affectionate.
“How old are you Auggie?” I ask the exuberant child.
“Five.” He holds up five fingers then sprints away.
A younger girl skids over in her rainbow tights and a unicorn sweater dress. She has big brown eyes with long lashes and a cherubic face. She can’t be more than three. “Did you rescue your assistant, Uncle Brick?” she asks. She has to slow down over the word ass-is-tant.
“I did, yes. Madison, this is my niece, April.”
“April and August. Ruby kept the themed name tradition going.”
“She did.” He picks up April, who wraps her sweet, chubby legs around his waist and stares at me with avid interest.
“Were you scared?” she asks. Before I can answer, she says, “Uncle Brick was scared, that’s why he was yelling.”
“Mm. She’s outing me,” he grumbles, and I’m warmed to my toes.
He was scared for me, wasn’t he?
“I’m sorry for yelling, A,” he tells the child.
“Should I get her a trophy too?”
“You do that. Two apologies in one day is a first, for sure.”
Eagle strolls over, a glass of whiskey in his hand. Brick’s mother steals glances at us from the couch where it looks like she was playing magnet tiles with the kids.
“Madi, glad you’re all right. You did give us quite a scare,” Eagle says.
“Yeah. It turns out it’s a little harder to find your way out in the Berkshires than it is in the city.”
“First time in the Berkshires?”
I tense. I know he’s just making chit chat, but to a girl from Jersey whose single mother never made more than fifty thousand a year, the question lands like a shortcoming.
Of course it’s my first time in the Berkshires, bro. I wasn’t raised with a silver spoon in my mouth like all of you.
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