Comfort Object (19 page)

Taking a deep breath, I went out to the main room, feeling like I was trespassing in someone's house. It was quite large, with a dining area and kitchenette on one side, and a sitting area on the other side with an overstuffed sofa and chairs and a wide-screen television mounted on the wall. It was a lot like Jeremy's mansion, beautifully decorated, only compacted into one oversize room. Beside my bedroom was another door, which I assumed led to Jeremy's room.

I crossed between the sitting and dining area to the opposite wall, which was one huge window from ceiling to floor. I felt like tiptoeing. I didn't belong here. It was too rich, too fine. As I reached the window wall, I looked down and then jumped back with a gasp.

We were high up. We were
high up
. I'd never been so high in the air in any building ever, and I felt a sudden panic in my chest, a sick feeling in my stomach.
If there's a fire…

“Nell.”

I spun with a stifled yelp, clutching my chest.

“Oh God. You scared me.”

He stood in the door to his bedroom, sexy man in loose pajama bottoms and no top. He was sculpted like a statue, all pecs and six-pack and biceps enough to make a girl go wild. I was caught between the sudden stab of lust between my legs and the sick, lingering panic at how high up I was.

“What's wrong?” he asked. It was so, so quiet in the room. He didn't move, didn't cross to me.

“It's so high. This room… This hotel…”

“Eighty-fifth floor.” He smiled. “Don't worry, though. Hotels almost never fall over.”

“It's just so high. God, it's beautiful, though.”

He came to stand at the window beside me, looking out at the urban lights and miles of buildings in every direction. “Welcome to Bangkok, your home for the next four weeks. You didn't see much of it from the limo last night.”

“Yes. I'm sorry I fell asleep. I was so tired.” I looked down self-consciously. “I guess you had to carry me drooling and limp to the room.”

He laughed. “It wasn't a problem. You didn't drool much. And you're a little slip of a thing.”

“And you work out.” I slid a look over at his golden, heavily muscled torso. “That's pretty clear.”

“Are you flirting with me?”

“Is that allowed?”

“It's encouraged.” He laughed and moved a hand up into my wet hair. He began to knead my nape with skilled fingers. He had no idea what it did to me…or maybe he did.

“Are you cold?” he asked.

“A little. Not too much.”

“I'd like you to take the robe off then, if you don't mind.”

His tone was like a cold bucket of water washing over me. For a minute it had almost felt romantic between us, but no, he was still my boss. I took it off and held it in my hands, the submissive now.

“Go and hang it in the bathroom. I've ordered us some dinner. It should be here soon.”

I crossed to do as he told me, knowing full well that his gaze was glued to my ass as I left the room, and to my boobs as I returned. My nipples were hard, poking through the practically transparent cotton of the cami top. He finally met my eyes after staring his fill at my tits.

“I like that look on you. Sleepy pajama girl. We'll both have to try to sleep later, to get ourselves back on schedule, but we'll eat first. You must be hungry.”

“I am.”

“A little dinner, and then some sex. A nice involved scene to tire us both out a bit.”

“Yes, Jeremy,” I said, my clit already throbbing. There was something about a half-naked, Adonis-like man letting you know he planned to use you for sex sometime soon.

I was starving, though, I realized. Yes. Food first.

As if on cue, room service arrived with a cartful of late-night goodies. Pizza and salads, exactly what I was hungry for. There was also cold American beer in a silver engraved cooler. We sat at one end of the large, rectangular table, and he dived into the pizza nice and messy like a real man, not the refined movie star he sometimes pretended to be.

“I didn't know they had pizza on the menu in Bangkok,” I said, watching him chew and take a deep drink of his beer.

He shrugged. “Everything's on the menu in Bangkok, if you have money. They sent out for the pizza, I think. It's good. Have some.”

I took a slice and bit into it hesitantly. It was so delicious, I almost moaned.

“It tastes like New York pizza,” I said.

“Doesn't it, though? You know me,” he said, looking me up and down. “I don't like to go without the comforts of home, no matter where I am.”

“Are you flirting with me?” I blushed, my food forgotten. The way he was looking at me…

“Come here.”

As soon as I was near enough, he pulled me astride his lap. He toyed with my nipples through the thin material of the pink lacy camisole. Of course, they stood at attention the moment he passed his fingertips over them.

“You're so sensitive.”

He sounded pleased, but I was blushing at how tarty my nipples were behaving.

He pulled the stretchy cami down below my breasts, so they were exposed, then slid his hand under the waistband of my pants. I had no panties on underneath. He parted my ass cheeks and stroked me intimately. “I'm going to fuck your ass tonight, Nell.”

“Yes, Jeremy,” I said, not sure how else to respond to a statement like that.

“That's one of the things I'm going to do to you, anyway.” He licked the hollows of my neck avidly before nuzzling under my ear. “I'm also going to put painful little clamps on your nipples. Do you like nipple clamps, Nell?”

“Yes, Jeremy,” I whispered. “I like whatever you like.”

He slapped my ass. “I asked if you liked them, not if I did. Do you like nipple clamps, yes or no?”

“Yes, I do like them. They make me pretty hot.”

“Everything makes you hot, you little slut,” he said, landing another hard slap against my ass. “But only I can let you come. Do you understand that?”

“Yes, Jeremy.”

“Now go into my bedroom and kneel on the bed, just as you are, with your ass to the door. I'll be in to use you in a little while. I want you to think about getting your ass fucked while you wait.”

“Yes, Jeremy.”

I walked to the bedroom with my ass uncovered and my tits hanging out. I crawled into the middle of Jeremy's bed. “
I want you to think about getting your ass fucked while you wait
.” As if I could think of anything else.

I was no novice at anal play. Toys in my ass were permitted at the club, and plugging me had been a frequent choice of many customers. But I'd been fucked by an actual cock in my ass only a handful of times. It was a lot different than a toy. A lot bigger, for one thing. The toys at the club had been relatively small, as customers tended to get exuberant with them. I knelt on all fours and concentrated on being relaxed and open, on accepting the invasion when it came. It was easy to feel submissive the way he'd left me: my tits bare and my exposed ass pointed at the door so it would be the first thing he saw when he came in.

When would he come?

Time passed slowly, ten minutes, fifteen, twenty minutes, according to his bedside clock. I could have knelt on all fours for an eternity, yoga classes and all that, but my mind was the thing that really started to ache. Thinking for twenty minutes about getting ass fucked, it got me hot and frustrated. It felt like hours and hours I waited, and I got so horny, I was afraid I'd come the second he touched me. If he put clamps on me, it was all over. Nothing made me more orgasmic than clamps on my tits.

My mind wandered away from ass fucking despite my will to obey, and I started instead to try to calm down, to soothe the ache between my legs by thinking about other things.

When thirty minutes had passed, I tried to soothe the ache another way.

I know I really, really shouldn't have tried it, but I figured I was going to come without permission either way. God, I hated my reckless libido.

“You little slut,” Jeremy said from the door at the exact moment I almost came.

Bad

“Thirty minutes!” He crossed to the bed and jerked me to my knees. “You couldn't wait thirty fucking minutes for me? Your job is to wait for my pleasure! Your job is to serve me, not jerk yourself off whenever you feel hot!”

“I'm so sorry!” I got that terrible sick feeling in my stomach, the one where you know you completely fucked up. I flinched as he gave me a rough shake.

“You ruined a perfectly good scene, one I was looking forward to all day! Do you have any self-control? Any at all?”

“I'm sorry!” I wailed. The worst part was the recrimination in his eyes.

“Was it worth it, you little slut?”

“No, Jeremy!”

“You had your fun,” he said, pushing me down to the floor. He stalked away and came back with a condom. “Now I get mine. Make it fucking good.”

I fumbled with the drawstring of his pants, but he pushed my hands away roughly when I wasn't quick enough. He was already hard. He'd wanted to take me as I was before, horny and frustrated. What I'd done was very bad form, and I knew it. Thirty minutes. He was right. I had absolutely no self-control.

Tears were already forming in my eyes before his rough thrusts into my throat started them rolling down my cheeks. He didn't slow or stop, only held my wet cheeks between his palms to fuck my face harder still.

“I wanted you all day,” he muttered. “I was going to fuck you so good.”

I moaned, tried with everything I had to give him a satisfying blowjob, but it took forever because he was angry. I sucked, I licked, I worshipped his cock, anything to make his anger go away. When he came he shoved deep in my throat. I could barely breathe, but I stayed still, determined not to choke and gag. When he withdrew and discarded the condom, I stayed as I was, not even able to raise my gaze to look at his face. In fact, I knelt down as if to kiss his feet, but he made a hissing sound that stopped me.