An Excerpt from Sinners
For most people, a phone call at five a.m. would be a cause for worry. Is someone hurt, in jail, or worse? As for me, I get excited every time my phone rings, no matter the hour. I roll over to my side and grab my vibrating phone. I hold it up in the dark to see the name on the ID. Just seeing his name is enough to make my panties wet. I sit up quickly and place the phone to my ear.
“Yes, sir?” I rub at my sleepy eyes and slip from the comfort of my bed. He never calls unless he needs me.
“My office. Now.” That’s all his dark voice utters before he ends the phone call. His office is downtown, so I have no time to waste. I jump in the shower; the water hasn’t even had a chance to heat up before I run a razor over my legs. He likes every inch of me to be smooth. My hands slip in the soap foaming and bubbling over my skin. Chill bumps rise under my fingers as my mind begins to wonder what he has planned for me.
Knowing he will tear away whatever panties I put on, I forgo them and slip into my pencil skirt. I tuck in a button-up blouse that will offer him a glance at my lush cleavage as soon as I enter the room. The thin white fabric does nothing to hide my hardening nipples. I could blame the peaks on the cold shower, but we all know better than that. My nipples are begging for his touch, for his tongue to trace the edges of my areolas and for his teeth to sink into the hardened nubs until I whimper for mercy. Mercy only he can give me, if he is so inclined. By the tone in his voice, I don’t imagine he is in a very giving mood.
Once in my car, I jab the accelerator, which feels awkward under my stiletto, and glance at my watch. Five twenty a.m. He is either having a very late night or a stupid early morning. I steer the car toward his big office building and pray he understands I did my best to hurry.
I run my fingers through my still-damp hair and sigh. He won’t be happy that I didn’t blow-dry it. He hates when I tempt fate and wear my hair wet in the chilly morning air. Rolling down both the windows, I ruffle my fingers through my locks and hope the air current will help speed up the drying process.
I pull into the parking garage and smile to myself when hardly any cars are in the lot. I’ll have him to myself. No secretary waiting outside his door, making me avoid screaming out my pleasure. I hate keeping it all bottled inside when he torments my body. No coworkers to smirk and chuckle as I exit his office, looking like a hot mess. I enjoy when it’s just us, but when those people are around, I feel only pride when I leave him. Their stares and judgmental giggles can’t take away the peace he offers me. My phone chimes.
“Where are you?” I can’t decipher his mood through text.
“The elevator, sir.” I press the button for the sixteenth floor. The ride up feels like a lifetime. The doors open and I step out onto the marble that will lead me to him. At the end of the hall, his office doors are open. They are never left open, and this makes my belly tighten.
I stop at the plush carpet at the doorway and lower to my knees with grace, a talent one achieves only with much practice. The tightness of my skirt doesn’t allow me to part my knees like I am supposed to. I worry my lip between my teeth. Why did I choose this skirt? There isn’t anything I can do about it now. I slip my arms behind my back and tangle my fingers together.
His fingers fly over his keyboard. The sound echoes throughout the empty space. His office is large and masculine, like him. His bulky desk fills the center of the room, a brown leather couch sits to the right, and a wall of windows spans behind him. He is working in the dark. The city behind him is slowly waking up, and the skyline twinkles with the coming sun.
“Strip,” he says without looking at me. His laptop screen illuminates the hard planes of his face, his expression offering me no indication of his mood. This mask of his drives me wild.
I stand and pull the buttons of my shirt free. I fold the shirt neatly and place it on the floor before I unzip my skirt and shimmy it down my hips. I fold the skirt as well and lay it on top of my shirt. Next, I lay my shoes on the pile and straighten up. I stand nude just a few feet in front of his desk, waiting for his next instructions. He has yet to look up, his fingers still working away over the laptop’s keyboard. I glance over my shoulder at the still-open door and wonder how long before his secretary arrives.
“To the window, please.” His gaze meets mine for the first time this morning. That look melts my core and I nod. He grins before his attention moves back to his work.
I walk around his desk, the carpet tickling my toes, and get into position before the glass. The city below us is beautiful. More lights come alive; daylight will be upon us soon.
I swallow tightly when I hear him rise from his desk. He pushes in his chair roughly, and the clang of the metal against the wood makes me jump. I lick my lips and force my body to be still. Next, I hear the rustling of fabric and realize he is undressing. I try not to pout. When he undresses before touching me, it normally means this will be quick. For his pleasure only.
He comes to stand behind me. His hands rest on my hips for a moment before he slips them up my skin to just under my arms. His long fingers close over my biceps as he lifts my arms.
“Hands up,” he says against my shoulder, the stubble on his jaw causing a shiver to roll down my spine.
I do as he says. This position makes me lean forward, and he moans his appreciation of my body when he smoothes his big hand down my back. His hand traces my ass crack and moves down to tap my inner thighs. A wordless instruction to open. I part my feet and look down, trying to see what he is doing, but it’s pointless. His other hand presses against the back of my neck, flattening me against the window. His fingers test my wetness and he grunts.
“So fucking wet,” he growls into my ear. He presses himself into my back, mashing my tits against the glass. With one rough thrust he enters and begins to fuck me.
I cry out and my pussy struggles to take him so quickly. My hands are wide, palms stuck to the glass. His fat cock hooks upward into my dripping cunt and I arch my back.
My big ass meets his hips and stomach as he heaves into me. My cheek pressed to the glass, I look out at the fast-approaching dawn. My mind battles between wanting to get caught with his dick slamming into my core and wanting to keep this private, between my handsome Master and myself.
I smile, knowing for the rest of the day, every time he looks out this window, all he’ll be able to see is my handprints. He’ll remember how hard he filled me and the squeaks and gasps I made as he did so. Every time he drives into me, the windowpane shudders. The luscious flesh of my ass jiggles when his hips clap against it.
He places his big hands over mine, curling his fingers between mine to grasp them tightly. A subtle reminder I belong to him. A simple possession for him to play with as he sees fit. He pulls my arms wider, stretching me before him as he nails me from behind.
I can see his reflection in the glass. Each time I scream at his deep, stabbing penetration, he smirks. Slowly he lifts me from the ground until I’m hanging from his hands and his cock, pinned to the glass and on display. His taut body lifts and pulls me as he grunts and hisses. Focused, he fills me completely, satisfying me in ways I’ve never known before. Each time we are together, he makes me uncover things I have buried in my soul, things I don’t even know exist. He places his mouth to my ear, his breath teasing my skin as he whispers.
“You’re a sinner. Beg for forgiveness.” The huskiness in his voice sends a shiver down my spine. I can do nothing but let him have me. My toes stretch, reaching for the floor, for some control, but I find none. I try to turn my head so I can look over my shoulder and get a better look at his face. I can feel his chin brush over my shoulders when he speaks to me. I try to push my ass back, attempting to offer him more of me. But I can’t move a thing. I can only accept what he gives.
“Please, I am so sorry.” I utter between gasps. “I’m sorry! It’s not my fault my body betrays me. Making me such a dirty fucking girl.” I bite out the words and quiver when I feel his thick cock twitch in response. “I am sorry I want your cock so badly,” I whine.
He knows that my desires cause guilt in my judgmental brain. He designs his games to break me down yet leave me feeling put back together. All of my pieces no longer jagged and smashed but fitting perfectly. He punches hard and deep into my pussy. Knowing the tip of his cock is stabbing into the deepest reaches of my cunt.
“You’ve sinned…and this is your penance.” The strain of keeping me pinned to the glass is taking its toll. Sweat beads on his skin, dripping down his face and chest, making our bodies slick against each other. He releases the tension on my arms. Moving his feet back slightly, he lowers me to the ground and brings my hands down and back. He clasps them together behind my back with one hand and places the other hand against the back of my neck. He steers me, turning me slightly as he steps forward. Another step and I fall to my knees on the couch. His grip on my wrists is tight, and his other hand presses my face into the cushions on the back of the couch.
My body is now bent over. Knowing this position will allow even more depth, he forcefully plunges into me. It hurts as he punches my cervix with the swollen head of his cock. I struggle against his hold but it does no good. It’s all part of our game. The game between a Master and his sub.
Wanting to balance my body for leverage against him, I try to pull my hands away but I can’t break free. The helpless feeling washes through me and floods my cunt around his thick cock. I beg for mercy.
“Please, sir. I’m sorry. Please, please let me come.”
He winds a fistful of my red hair around his knuckles and pulls my head back so my body arches.
“You’ll need to beg more than that, little girl. Your sins of the flesh are many, and you need to be absolved.”
The position of my head allows me to meet his gaze.
“Please, I need your forgiveness,” I whimper, my eyelids feel heavy as his cock sinks back into my pussy. My clitoris starts throbbing unbearably. I widen my knees, hoping to grind my mound against the couch. “I’m sorry. So sorry, please!”
I can’t find the right words to make my begging acceptable. My brain is a hazy mess. He lets go of my hair. Then, in a quick motion, he brings his open palm to my pale ass, spanking me with a single hard strike. The sound reaches my ears at the exact moment I feel the sting.
“Do not take this lightly, young lady. This is a punishment. And when I am done, you will truly be sorry for your sins.”
My teeth sink into my lower lip, my pussy clenching as the sting registers. The punishment turns my clit’s pounding desire into need.
“Please,” I murmur. “Spank me again.” I keep my head tipped as he left it. “Please.”
He brings his hand to his mouth. My lips part. I long to kiss him, to nip at his tongue and suck on his lips. His licks his palm and fingers, dousing his hand before striking me again. The sound bounces off the walls of his office again. I imagine that a bright red handprint is now glowing on my white cheek, a gift from him I can carry with me all day.
He pulls his hips back, withdrawing his cock nearly completely and then jabbing his meat into me again. Hard and fast. My pussy fills with his cock so quickly, air escapes from around his intrusion. Then again, he pulls out of me without warning, he thrusts hard. The impact of his hips against my fleshy buns makes me jiggle all over. “It seems as if you enjoy the pain of my spanking. This is not supposed to be a reward. Look away, now!” he barks as he spanks me again. My inner walls quiver around him, and I fear I won’t hold out much longer. I turn my face away and into in the couch. Not just because I’ve been ordered to, but because if I keep watching his hard, solid body flex as he fucks me, surely I’ll come in seconds. “Please,” is all I can think to say, and I repeat it like a chant. Or a prayer. He spanks me again, this time even harder, knowing the sting is getting worse as my flesh becomes sensitive. He steps away from me; the loss of him makes me whine and look over my shoulder. He picks up his tie and raises one eyebrow when he catches me looking at him. I turn my head back into the comfort of the couch and feel him wrapping the tie around my slender wrists. He binds them behind my back, allowing him the use of both hands.
“I think it’s time you realize the severity of your transgressions. And there is only one way to cleanse your soul.” He uses his thumbs to spread open my ass cheeks. Fear and pleasure mingle in my belly, then spread through my limbs, driving me mad.
“Oh, please.” I shake my head back and forth, unsure how to beg for what I want. I feel his hand between our bodies and his knuckles brush over my inner thighs as he drags his thumb over the root of his dick. He gathers some of my thick cream, which he smears over my asshole. My pucker tightens at his touch.
“No, no.” I shake my head fiercely at the forbidden touch of his thumb. Yet I lift my ass, offering him anything he seeks. “Please, no.” He presses firmly, uncaring of my whining. His thumb slips into my lubed ass, stretching me as he withdraws from my cunt until my inner lips are taut around the swollen ridge of his head. He keeps his thumb deep in my tight ass. His fingers sprawl up the crack of my ass as his thumb curls upward inside of me and he plunges his cock into my gushing pussy faster. He hisses some curse word I can’t understand while he fills both of my most private of places. He grunts as my soft body reacts to him. He feeds his length to me slowly. I exhale in an attempt to relax and welcome his thumb, but the thrust of his dick makes me gasp and tighten. The dual sensations fling me over the edge as I shatter into bits for him. My body contracts and convulses; breathless cries break from my lips as the orgasm rolls over me.
“That’s it.” He growls and moves his thumb in and out of my ass. His cock and hand move together to prolong my orgasm. “Release it all.” He leans over my back and bound hands to kiss the side of my neck. My thighs tremble from the aftershocks slithering through my limbs. His free hand touches my shoulder lightly, pressing my body down on his cock. I feel his cock throbbing inside me; he must be holding on to his control by a thread. I tighten my body to tempt him, and his hand moves from my shoulder to my throat. He grips the tender flesh and hammers into my pussy.
With one final thrust, he sets the head of his cock against my womb and empties himself. His dick jerks as ropes of cum flood my body. He groans through his release and pulls his thumb from my rear so he can grip my hip. His fingers bite into my flesh and I know I’ll be leaving with his fingerprints on my skin.
Moments pass before he comes back to me. He sighs heavily and leans over my back again. The heat from his slick chest feels perfect against me. He brushes my hair to the side and kisses my temple.
“Thank you, princess. All is forgiven.” He leans back to untie my wrists. He massages my forearms, moving up to my shoulders. When he is sure no damage has been done, he finally pulls out of my pussy. I turn so I can sit, hissing through my teeth when the leather cushion meets my tender skin.
He walks naked across the office to the small bathroom and wets a washcloth. He cleans off his cock and hands before bringing me a cloth of my own. He gets to his knees before me and parts my thighs. I smile at him when he looks up at me. He washes my inner folds and places a kiss on my mound.
“Time for you to go, princess.” He helps me to my feet, and I look up into his handsome face. He cups my jaw and I lean into his palm. “Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?” I want nothing more.
“Yes, sir.” I turn from him so I can dress. Just as I am slipping into my high heels, I hear a noise in the hall, just outside the door. I see his secretary dropping her heavy purse on her desk. My face flames. I run my fingers through my hair. I peek at him. He is already dressed, not a stitch out of place, and sitting behind his desk.
He looks so relaxed, his face no longer showing signs of the mask he uses to hide his emotions, like when I arrived. This is why I came, to serve him. He leans back in the chair, fingers steepled in his lap, and raises an eyebrow. I can’t help but giggle. I walk over to his desk, and he points to his cheek. I place a kiss where his finger indicated.
“I’ll text you before I leave.” His gaze meets mine again and I nod. “Good girl.”
“Can I get you anything, Mr. Battle? Oh.” Jane, his secretary, enters the office. She looks me over with disgust before smiling sweetly at him. Her royal blue pantsuit fits her pleasantly, and her hair is twisted into some bitch knot that I could never achieve. I know she hates me simply because she isn’t me. Because his hands have never touched her, never gripped her throat and owned the air she longed to breathe. I smile back at her just to piss her off.
“Coffee, Jane.” His cold answer pleases me. He turns back to me. “Have a good day, OK?”