Killer Heels (34 page)

She was desperately trying to concentrate on the conversation, and not Jacob’s hand, which was turning now, swivelling
on his wrist, his fingers between her legs flicking her seductively, teasing open her legs a little more.
In accordance with his wishes – and, to be fair, New York
custom – Coco was entirely hairless now, almost as smooth as
a baby’s bottom. On a very regular basis she attended a
European day spa on 44th Street where a middle-aged
Russian woman called Lyubya – Russians were apparently
the experts in this particular form of aesthetic torture –
spread hot wax on her most intimate parts, stroked on a strip
of fabric and whisked it away, applying an emollient cream
afterwards so quickly that the pain was kept to a bare minimum. Coco had expected the process to hurt much more; to
her surprise, much worse than the actual pain itself was the
humiliation of having to lie on her back, naked from the waist
down, legs spread wide, and then, even worse, to clamber
onto all fours on the table, present her bottom to a bored
Lyubya, and reach her own hands back, grabbing her buttocks,
to spread them in turn, so that Lyubya could first wax the
area around her arsehole, and then bleach it . . .
Jacob’s index finger found her outer lips, tickling up and
down between them, easing a passage through into her hot
moist inner heat. It was all Coco could do not to give any
outward sign of what he was doing to her; she grabbed her
champagne glass from the table, clutching it with both hands,
bringing it to her mouth, a visual distraction that would hopefully keep Xavier looking up, rather than down.
‘Chanel was definitely my favourite,’ Jacob said amicably to
Xavier. ‘Great cohesion, didn’t you think?’
‘Oh, definitely,’ Xavier agreed.
Jacob’s finger, damp to the knuckle now, slid out of Coco
just far enough to flick her clitoris, moistening it with her own
heat, drawing the faintest of moans from her. Despite herself,
her hips ground fractionally into his hand, her buttocks twisting against the leather seat.
‘Coco, honey?’ Jacob turned to look at her, and for a second
his big white teeth looked like a crocodile smile. ‘Chanel your
top pick too?’
Another test. A big one.
‘No, actually,’ she managed to say.
Agreement would look weak in the circumstances: she knew
she’d chosen correctly when she saw Jacob’s expression.
‘I preferred the Dior,’ she continued, forcing her voice to be
stronger. It was exciting and directional – more elegant, less
theatrical than when Galliano was in charge.’
Jacob’s hand curved around her groin, cupping it, a gesture
of possession and approval. Heat flooded through her; it was
all she could do not to rock her pelvis against him, rub even
tighter against his palm.
The only thing that stopped her was Xavier, so close, just a
few feet away, only the width of the table dividing them. She
was petrified that he might guess what Jacob was doing to her;
the tabletop was smoked black glass, and she had no idea now
opaque it was. Would it give Xavier a view of her widened legs,
of Jacob’s big hand wedged between them?
Coco darted a fleeting look directly at Xavier. He looked
composed, interested in the conversation, but she thought she
could detect a vein pumping at his temple, and when she
looked down at his hands on the tabletop, she saw that the
fingers were gripping the edge as tightly as if they were all that
was stopping him tumbling from a clifftop. Jacob must have
noticed the direction of her swift glance, because his fingers
sank into her soft mound, deep enough to draw a stifled gasp
from her lips, almost hard enough to bruise. His thumb slid
inside her, short and wide and stubby, tracing circles inside her
dampness so tantalisingly that she had to brace herself against
the table to stop herself from moving against it.
‘She’s very smart, isn’t she?’ Jacob said to Xavier, still smiling.
I’m right here! Coco wanted to say. Don’t talk about me as
if I’m not! But Jacob’s thumb was reaching further inside her,
up to her G-spot, and she wouldn’t have dared to utter a word,
in case her voice came out in a squeak of excitement.
Xavier’s jaw tightened. ‘Coco has a lot of fantastic qualities,’
he said, and for the first time, he deliberately turned his head
to smile at her.
‘Oh,
absolutely!
’ Jacob’s smile widened.
Crocodile smile, Coco thought. He looks as if he’s about to
eat Xavier alive.
‘And I’m a very lucky man,’ Jacob continued, speaking
leisurely. ‘I get to experience all those fantastic qualities on a
daily basis. Don’t I, honey?’
His hand twisted more at the wrist, allowing his thumb to
penetrate Coco even further, its base now entering her, wide
enough to rub directly against her clitoris. She sank her teeth
into her lower lip so she didn’t scream with pleasure. Jacob
was juddering his hand back and forth steadily, a small rocking
movement exactly where she needed it most;
he’s done this
before
, she knew, as she gave herself up, helplessly, to the
rhythm he was imposing on her.
That’s how he got so good at
screwing me under a table, making me come – oh God, I know I’m
going to come if he doesn’t stop – without the slightest sign to
anyone else that he’s got his hand up inside me
. . .
Jacob’s upper body had swivelled to face Coco, to allow his
hand full access between her legs, but he had calculated the
angle perfectly; he just looked like a fond boyfriend who
wanted to look fully at his girlfriend while talking to her.
Or about her, Coco thought, her last coherent one before
the orgasm began to flood through her lower body, one hot
spasm after another, rendering her completely incapable of
anything but holding onto the table and trying not to cry out.
Her eyes widened, and she bit even harder into her lip, using
that pain to focus her, remind her that she couldn’t let go
completely, no matter how intensely she was feeling the sensations between her legs. Jacob’s thumb was pressing her G-spot,
his hand curved like a sex toy designed to stimulate both her
inner and outer zones, a C against which she was dying to rock
herself back and forth, rub against those points like a cat butting against a stroking hand, come over and over again . . .
‘My congratulations,’ Xavier was saying, his voice clipped.
‘She’s a wonderful girl, and she deserves the best.’
Coco couldn’t have moved, even if she had been prepared
to humiliate herself by doing so. Jacob’s fingers were still
clamped hard on her mound, a vice that held her groin exactly
where he wanted it, his control on her precise and expert: with
one last twist of his wrist, he sent the fleshy base of his thumb
powerfully against her now-swollen clitoris, forcing her into a
last spasm of orgasm. Her eyes closed, her lips parted, a sigh
flowing, involuntarily, from her mouth as her entire body
tensed and then released fully onto Jacob’s clever hand.
‘Glad you agree, honey,’ Jacob said fondly, interpreting her
small exclamation for Xavier’s benefit. ‘Well, mustn’t keep
you.’ He tilted his head in the direction of Haymanot, who
was coming over to cling once more to Xavier’s arm. ‘I can see
you have business of your own. Nice to touch base.’
And, withdrawing his hand from inside Coco, he flicked his
fingers between her legs as he did so, emphasising, for his
amusement, exactly how he had just been touching base.
It took Coco a few minutes to completely regain control of
herself, to come back to normal after Jacob’s manipulations of
her. Her crotch felt, simultaneously, completely fulfilled, and
sore with incipient bruises; she was sure that the tips of Jacob’s
fingers were imprinted in her mound of Venus. She flushed
with embarrassment when she realised that below her, the
leather of the seat was damp with her own moisture. Jacob was
wiping his fingers on his handkerchief, smiling at her, nodding
to Xavier, who was back at the bar, his shoulders very much
turned to the booth, his arm now round Haymanot.
‘Well, that young man won’t come sniffing around you any
more,’ Jacob said with certainty. ‘Tell me, did you ever fuck
him?’
Coco jumped, shocked at the question. The words had been
spoken lightly, but their content was serious, and she knew
instinctively that if she answered in the affirmative, there
might be consequences equally as serious.
Not for me, she knew. For Xavier. I don’t think Jacob would
let him stay at Dupleix if he knew that he and I had ever
hooked up.
‘God, no!’ she said, mirroring Jacob’s tone. ‘We all hung out
from time to time, but that was it. Emily likes him, but I don’t
think anything ever came of it. You know me.’ She smiled up
at him. ‘I prefer men with much more experience.’
It was the perfect line to end on. Jacob looked deeply
complacent.
‘Yes,’ he said smugly, looking over at Xavier’s back. ‘He’s a
handsome young pup, but much too callow for you.’
He took Coco’s hand, and she thought he was going to pat
it in satisfaction, as he often did after she had said or done
something he particularly liked: but instead, his eyes still on
Xavier, Jacob slid their linked hands under the table, to his
crotch now, closing her palm around his cock, which was lying
sideways on his thigh, fully hard.
‘My turn,’ he said, his voice soft with anticipation.
Coco stared at him in shock. ‘
Here
?’ she blurted out.
Jacob smiled at her, and started to slide out of the booth,
pulling Coco with him.
‘Top up my glass and bring it along,’ he instructed her, and
she scampered to fulfil his instructions while simultaneously
following the insistent drag of his hand. He wove through the
crowd, finding his way effortlessly to the black-tiled corridor
off which doors led to the bathrooms; this, too, he had obviously done before, because he knew exactly where he was
heading, turned the handle of the door and shouldered
through, never letting go of Coco’s hand, pulling her inside
and locking the door behind him in a matter of moments. He
stood with his back to the door, unbuckling the belt of his
trousers; pulling it out through his trouser loops, he kissed
her as he took both her arms, guided them gently behind her
back, and wound the belt around her wrists, the tail coming
through the whole binding, fastening it securely. A final
thrust of his tongue into her mouth as he took the
champagne glass from her hand; then she felt his fingers on
her skull, guiding her down to her knees as he undid his trousers, shoving them down his legs, his silk boxers coming with
them, his wide stubby cock springing free, its base a nest of
thick dark curly hair.
Coco wriggled forward on her knees, taking his cock in her
mouth, feeling it jump with excitement as her lips closed
around it, the soft velvety skin of the head swelling with her
touch. Jacob didn’t like preliminaries; no licking, no caresses,
no playful twists of her tongue around his shaft or flicks up
and down the prominent vein on its underside. He just
wanted her to suck him, hard and fast, though up till now she
had never had to do that with her hands tied behind her
back, nothing to steady her, on the cold hard tiles of a bathroom floor.
He’ll come fast, she told herself as she fastened her lips on
him as tightly as she could, wrapping them over her teeth, and
began to work away, his width already filling her mouth. Above
her, she was dimly conscious of him leaning against the blackpainted bathroom door, his knees a little bent, sipping
champagne, looking down at her head as she sucked his cock,
her back curved with the effort of keeping upright, keeping
her rhythm, his black leather belt snug around her wrists.
‘If that boy could see you now,’ he said with huge satisfaction. ‘Looking at you like that, when you were sitting next to
me, when he
knows
you’re with me – cocky little fucker, I put
him in his place . . .’
The thought excited him even more; his penis swelled,
stretching Coco’s mouth, and she knew he wasn’t far away
from climax. His hand came down, gripping the back of her
head, forcing it further onto his cock, the black hairs at the
base rubbing against her lips as its head jammed against the
back of her mouth, again and again, ramming her hard, fucking
her mouth mercilessly. Coco struggled to breathe, gasping
breaths in through her nose, yielding completely to Jacob’s
cock as it drove as deep as it could within her mouth, his hand
on her hair tilting her head back still more, making her deepthroat him. High above her she heard his groans rise in volume,
grunting with each thrust, his hips jerking against her face
with such force that, without the hand on her head, her own
hands tied up, unable to balance her, she would have fallen to
the floor.
It was overpowering, the transcendent sensation of being
completely and utterly used by the man she loved. In this
moment, Coco knew, she was just an object to Jacob, a symbol
of his victory over Xavier, the territory he was marking so
comprehensively. Her eyes were closed in concentration, her
entire focus on her mouth and what it was doing to him. The
next second, as his hand convulsed in her hair and his cock
engorged even more, almost choking her, she felt him begin to
pump his triumph into her, flooding her tongue with scalding
hot sperm.
The hand on her skull relaxed enough for her to draw breath
and swallow, again and again, taking it all, gulping it down,
licking first her own lips and then, as his cock eventually withdrew from her mouth, licking it too, taking every last drop. Just
as he wanted, as he had trained her to do. She sagged back on
her heels, still gasping for breath, working her mouth to relax
the muscles of her lips and jaw which were locked in rigour.
She was dizzy, her head spinning from the intensity of the
blow-job she had just given, and though her eyelids fluttered
open, her vision was still clouded.
She felt his hand come under her armpit, helping her up; she
staggered to her feet, felt him turning her round, undoing the
belt around her wrists, sitting her down on the toilet seat, giving
her his glass of champagne, which she sipped gratefully.
‘Good girl,’ Jacob said as he walked over to the sink and
dabbed at his detumescing cock with a damp hand towel. He
studied his face in the mirror, his features relaxed, his expression one of utter satisfaction: carefully, he wetted his finger at
the tap and smoothed down the silvering hair at his temples.
‘You made me come like a geyser.’ He smiled at her reflection.
‘Like a man half my age. You make me feel very young, Coco,
my dear.’