Blackstone Inc. (Book 1)

Part 57

I took notes quietly like I knew he wanted. I hung onto his every word, I watched the way his lips moved when he spoke, and I saw his eyes darken when he agreed with the way the conversation was going.

And when he would glance down at me and he would give me a smile, I felt my heart clench and I couldn't help but smile back.

He was too attractive and I was too far gone to care about being ashamed.

I would do anything he asked. I would give him the world if he wanted. I would crawl on my knees through the streets if it made him happy.

"You're staring," he whispered when the man, who sat across from us, went to the bathroom.

"Sorry, sir," I muttered and looked down at my notes.

"Try not to make it so known how infatuated you are with me," he smirked.

My jaw dropped and I arched my brows, "Excuse me?"

"Don't go on the offense, Princess. I'm only joking," he squeezed my knee under the table, "How's your food?"

I looked down at my half-eaten chicken breast, "It was good, and yours?"

He chuckled, "It was fine. The steak is always good. I'm glad you got something other than salad this time."

I blushed and watched our guest take his seat and continue on with his conversation.

On the way to the car the valet, Andrew, blushed when he saw me and I was reminded of the first time I'd seen him just a few weeks ago.

"Close your mouth, Andrew. You'll catch a fly," Dominic said as he took his keys from the boy and put on his sunglasses.

***

I didn't speak in the car. I didn't trust myself to not ask if he could pull over into the same alley and lean his seat back.

No matter what happened today, I was still with Preston and I would try to right the wrong that had been done.

"Do you have the contracts drawn up for Mr. Emerson tomorrow? And did he ever get back with you and say if he was coming or not?"

"Yes, and yes, sir," I said as I turned on my computer. I moved a few things around on my desk as he had picked everything up but didn't know where anything went.

"What are you going to wear tomorrow?" His voice floated from his desk across the room.

"Um, I'm not sure, sir." Did it matter?

"Wear something sexy. He probably has this image of you in his head and we want him to keep that image if he'll sign the contract," he was looking at me with a pen cap between his teeth.

"Tight and sexy?"

"Yes, maybe that dress you wore the night you spent with me," he smirked and I bit my lip as I thought back to that night.

I missed the sting of the crop against my skin. I missed him tying me up and I missed him pounding into me. I even missed the feeling of the plug in my àss.

I had disappointed him that night, and I couldn't help but want to make it up to him.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if we tried again. Maybe this time he would get to do what he wanted that night.

I longed to be pushed to my limits like Preston had done.

Preston. Oh, shit.

What was I doing thinking about wanting to be back in Dominic's playroom when I had a boyfriend? Why couldn't I get the image of me being strapped to that contraption again and him flogging me and bringing me to completion over and over again until I physically couldn't stand out of my mind?

"Are you thinking about that night too?" His deep baritone voice traveled across the room and caressed my ear.

I blushed and looked at the time—4:23.

My stomach started hurting. Would Dominic let me leave? Did I want to leave?

I still cared about Preston and maybe if I distanced myself from Dominic then I would be able to think more clearly.

"No, Dominic, but I will wear that dress tomorrow."

I turned off my computer and pushed away from the desk.

"You're really leaving?" He sounded hurt and I couldn't bare to look at him as I grabbed my purse and walked through the office and to the hall.

"So, you're just going to act as if everything that happened today didn't?"

I stopped walking but didn't look back, "What happened today can not happen again. I am with Preston and you are with Jasmine and she is having your baby, Dominic. From now on, I will stay strong and I will not allow anything else to take place."

"Do not make your self cüm tonight," he commanded sternly.

"You do not own me," I tried to make my voice confident. I still hadn't turned around because I knew that if he saw the look on my face he would take a sledgehammer to the walls I was busy building to keep him out.

"You belong to me," I heard his chair roll away from his desk and I heard his shoes against the tile floor.

"I don't," I stated defiantly.

He spun me around and crashed his lips to mine. I brought my hand up to his hair and pulled him closer with the other on his shoulder.

He pushed me against the hallway wall and put his hand around my throat before pulling back, "You do. I will only repeat myself once more. Do," he kissed me, "Not," again, "cüm," again, "Understood?"

"Fine!" Dammit.

He pushed his lips to mine again before letting his hands travel down my back to my àss, squeezing the cheeks, and then lower until he got to the backs of my thighs and pulled.

I jumped into his arms and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. One of his hands was holding me while the other was squeezing my breast through my shirt.

I moved my lips against him and barely felt him moving, but then I heard the elevator arrive and he set me down and pushed me inside, "I'll see you tomorrow."

He pressed the 'L' button for the lobby and stepped back into the office. I watched as the doors closed and then I touched my lips and felt how tender they were.

What was I going to do now? Would I tell Preston of my infidelity? I didn't want to disappoint him after the wonderful weekend we had but I didn't know if I was capable of lying to him.

"Seriously? You couldn't bother to at least fix your shirt?"

I looked down and saw that it was crumpled from where his hand had been.

I blushed and straightened my shirt as I walked through the lobby and straight past her.

"So, both of them?"

"Not today, Dariah. I'm really not in the mood to deal with your bullshit too."

I walked out of the building and saw a black car waiting with a short man at the back door, "Ms. Carlyle?"

"Yes, that's me."