my ear, along with the constant stroking inside of me had me so close already. Weston crooked his fingers and changed the angle of his pumps, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before my orgasm.
He reached behind me and threaded his fingers into my hair. Yanking my head back, he sucked on my exposed neck.
“Ohhh…oh God.”
He tugged harder on my hair, to the point that it hurt—but not enough to make him stop—and his thumb stretched to rub my clit.
“Eyes open when you come,” he groaned as he pulled back to watch me. But I was so lost in the moment, I barely heard him. He repeated his words again, this time with a stern tone. “Eyes fucking open, Sophia.”
My eyes flew open. On instinct, I went to grab for him, forgetting that my hands were bound behind me. The leather around my wrists had no play, and the more I pulled, the more it dug into my skin. Surprisingly, the feeling of being restrained didn’t scare me, it actually seemed to turn me on. So I struggled a few more times in a vain attempt to get free, until I felt my body begin to climb over the edge. Oh God. With a guttural sound that was a cross between a moan and a yell, my orgasm ripped through me. Our eyes met, and the fire in Weston’s eyes while he watched me orgasm kept me riveted in place. When the last of the ripples ended, I leaned forward and rested my head on his shoulder, allowing my eyes to shut.
It didn’t take long for me to feel vulnerable again. I kept my eyes closed.
“Take it off,” I whispered.
“You sure?”
I nodded.
Weston reached around and unfastened the buckle, freeing my hands.
I rubbed one of my wrists.
He looked down. They were red from friction burn, though it really didn’t hurt.
“You want me to get you some ice?”
I shook my head. “I’m fine.”
“Some cream or something?”
Him using that soft tone freaked me out almost as much as what I’d just let happen. I pressed my hand against his chest and nudged him to take a step back.
Righting my skirt, I snapped, “Don’t be nice to me.”
Weston’s eyebrows jumped. “You want me to be a dick?” He thumbed behind him. “I’m sure there’s some salt around here somewhere I could pour on. That will make it sting. Would that work for you?”
I narrowed my eyes and hopped off the desk. “You know what works for me? You not meeting with the union when I’m not present. We own equal amounts of this hotel, and you need my approval to ratify any agreements you make with them anyway.”
“Really? Two minutes ago you were moaning, and now we’re back to the union? Maybe we can put that on hold until after.”
I brushed the wrinkles from my skirt. I hadn’t planned on rushing out the door. Then again, I hadn’t planned on what had just transpired either. But it hit me that I had the upper hand now—a way to make Weston feel as screwed over as he’d made me feel earlier. A slow, evil smile spread across my face, and I arched a brow. “After?”
He looked down at the substantial bulge in his pants and back up to me. “We’re not done here.”
“Is that so?” I walked toward the door. Opening it, I looked back over my shoulder. “I hope you feel every bit as screwed over as I did today. Sweet dreams, Weston.”
Chapter 5
* * *
Weston
“So what’s going on with you? I’m glad you didn’t cancel our session again this week.” Dr. Halpern crossed her legs and set her notepad on the table next to her.
It might’ve been the first time I didn’t have to hide my ogling of her shapely calves. And that wasn’t because she’d decided to wear pants for a change. She had the same long stems on display as she normally did.
I lay down on the proverbial patient couch like I always did, even though she’d told me it wasn’t necessary and most patients sat up. Apparently, the shrink sitting in a chair across from the nutjob while he spilled his guts was more for the movies than real life. Though, if I had to come here, I figured I might as well get some rest out of it.
“Did I ever tell you about the time I had the croup?” I asked her. “I was probably four, and Caroline was six or so.”
“I don’t think you’ve mentioned it, no.”
“My