Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

Brynn

I’m both relieved and disappointed that Mr. Bennett doesn’t dominate my every waking moment on Sunday. If he kept that up, I would probably fail all my classes. Surely, a powerful man like him, who owns his own investment firm, has to work a lot of hours, but I have not seen evidence of that this weekend.

The man hovers. I feel his presence all the time, even when he’s supposedly leaving me to study.

First thing this morning, as soon as I finished in the bathroom, he entered my room. He must have been nearby, waiting for the sound of the toilet flushing and the water running. He chose clothes for me and waited while I put them on—tight black yoga pants, a black sports bra, and a white fitted tank top. He rounded that out with tennis shoes. Missing? Panties.

He hovered while I ate the delicious breakfast Georgia fixed me—an omelet and whole-grain toast. I’m certain she made the bread from scratch.

He hovered while we worked out. The man is a drill sergeant in the gym, and it’s been a long time since I’ve had time to work out. I’m going to be sore tomorrow.

He hovered nearby while I showered and dressed in the next outfit he handed me—a loose, black silk one-piece romper. True to his word, he gave me no panties or bra yet again. He did hand me a sweater in case I got cold since the romper only had spaghetti straps. He was also kind enough to give me cute black ballet flats that fit me perfectly. Not surprising.

He left me with strict instructions to study at my desk in my room until lunch, but I know he didn’t stray far, and he left the door open all the way. Does the man think I might rip off my clothes and masturbate?

Admittedly, the idea is tempting. I’ve considered doing so in the bathroom. He wouldn’t dare put a camera in the bathroom, and I’m so permanently horny that I’m certain I could get myself off in less than two minutes without him thinking I had taken too long to pee.

But I don’t because, apparently, I’m a pleaser, and he told me not to.

We ate lunch together in the breakfast nook. I wore the sweater. Georgia made vegetable soup and chicken salad sandwiches. I’m spoiled already.

Under Mr. Bennett’s strict guidance, I returned to my room to study. At least with him as a taskmaster, I will always get my work done. I’m so prepared for tomorrow’s classes that I’m actually hoping there’s at least one pop quiz.

I still have to be at work at six in the morning. I’ve dug my feet in on that. I will not quit at The Grind without giving notice. I will put it in tomorrow.

When I’ve done all the work I need to do, I lean back in my chair and stretch before wandering out of my room. I’m surprised Mr. Bennett isn’t standing in the hallway waiting for me.

I find him in his office. The door is wide open, but I knock on the frame. “Mr. Bennett?”

He lifts his gaze from where he was staring at the computer. “Brynn. Come in. Did you finish your homework?”

“Yes, Sir.” I feel awkward as I join him. It happens a lot. This arrangement is so peculiar.

He holds out a hand, encouraging me to come closer.

When I reach him, I see he has placed a mat on the floor next to his desk chair. It’s like the mat I kneeled on last night. It’s about six inches wide and two feet long.

“Kneel for me, baby.”

I lower next to him.

He strokes a few loose hairs back from my face and tips my chin up with his fingers. “Kneeling will help you submit. It will guide you into a submissive state of mind. I’ll ask you to do so when I think you need some downtime to clear your head. After all that studying, I suspect you could use it.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Spread your knees as far as you can comfortably. Set your hands on your thighs.”

He strokes my cheek while I settle into position.

“Shoulders back, baby,” he says softly. “Good girl.” He guides the sweater off me and then strokes my arm. “Too cold?”

“No, Sir.” I know he wants to see my nipples. They’re prominently displayed for him under the loose silk. I like that I please him, and I know he enjoys looking at me.

“Close your eyes and center yourself. Feel your submission.” He strokes my arm, my neck, my cheek…

I take deep breaths and blow them out.

“Good girl. When you get tired, let me know.” He goes back to working on his computer, facing his desk, no longer touching me.

I miss his touch, but I feel the deep submission he commands. It’s all around me. I’m swept up in it. It’s oddly settling. My breathing calms.

After a while, I get sleepy, and I sway a bit.

Mr. Bennett notices and turns his chair toward me.

I open my eyes to look at him as he spreads his legs and scoots his chair closer until I’m fully between them. His hand comes to the back of my head. “Lower your bottom, baby. Lean your head on my thigh.” He guides me into this new position.

I breathe out a long exhale. I’m shocked by how comforted I am. I’m relaxed and tired and easily fall asleep to the feeling of Mr. Bennett stroking my hair while I rest my cheek on his thigh.

I’m not sure how long I rest in this position, but I awake feeling refreshed. When I tip my head back, I find Mr. Bennett smiling at me. “Such a good girl. Feel better?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Dinner will be ready shortly. Let me help you stand. Your legs might be cramped.”

I’m wobbly as I rise, but he helps me up and stands behind me. He pulls the band out of my messy ponytail, finger combs my hair, and then expertly braids it down my back before securing the end .

“Should I change before dinner, Sir?”

“No, baby. You’re fine like this.” He leans down to whisper in my ear from behind me, his hands on my biceps. “I like this romper on you.” His hands slide around to dance over my breasts.

My breath hitches when he thumbs my nipples.

“Mmmm.” His light moan makes me shiver.

“You are going to let me wear a bra and panties to work and school tomorrow, right?”

“Yes, baby. I like you slightly off-kilter at home, but I won’t embarrass you in public.”

It’s weird being led into the formal dining room and seated at a long table. Mr. Bennett sits at the head of the table with me to his left. He reminds me to sit tall, shoulders back, knees parted.

I’m flushed when Georgia enters to set plates in front of us. No one has ever cooked for or served me food. It’s unnerving, but I don’t say anything. Georgia seems beyond pleased to have me here.

Mr. Bennett spends the meal asking me about my classes and what I want to do after I graduate. I’ve wanted to be an accountant for a long time, so I tell him that. He listens intently as if everything I say is important.

After dinner, he tells me he insists on an early bedtime until I’m done working at The Grind so early in the mornings. Charles will take me at five-thirty. He guides me to my room, always touching me, making me tingle with need.

I haven’t had an orgasm since the one I had at Edge last night. Ordinarily, that wouldn’t even faze me. I’ve never felt like I desperately needed to come, but I do now. I’m trembling with need. I want to orgasm so badly I can taste it. He’s had me on edge all day. He knows it. He’s devilish like that.

I want to throw in the towel and beg him to take me to his bed—or get naked in mine—but I don’t dare, reminding myself there is a line. I’m not his paid whore.

Haven’t we crossed that line over and over, though? The man has seen me naked more times than I can count, and I have no doubt he’s about to see me naked again now. He gives me no privacy when he wants me to change clothes.

After guiding me straight into the bathroom, he turns on the shower like last night. “I’ll give you a few minutes. Don’t dawdle. Don’t touch yourself more than necessary, understood?”

My face heats. “Yes, Sir.” I’m surprised and secretly disappointed that he doesn’t remove the romper for me. I suspect he left me to do so on purpose to prove that I won’t like it.

It works. I feel lonely in the shower and even more lonely when he doesn’t immediately barge back in. I go through my evening routine, peeing, brushing my teeth, flossing, and applying face lotion. I’m frustrated when I finally step into the bedroom.

Mr. Bennett is sitting on the edge of my bed. He has pulled the covers back.

I’m still wrapped in my towel.

“Hang up your towel, baby. Come get in bed.”

Naked?

My heart races. Will he finally touch me? I’m sexually frustrated.

I crawl onto the bed, but Mr. Bennett makes no move to cover me. He strokes a finger down the center of my body. It’s one of his signature moves. “ Do you need to come before you go to sleep, Brynn?”

I heat further. Must we discuss it? “Yes, Sir.”

“Spread your legs, baby.” His voice is deep and gentle and demanding all at once.

This keeps happening. He likes to look at me. It’s obvious that he finds me mesmerizing. And I like it when he looks at me. We have the strangest relationship. The man is always fully clothed. I’m often half-dressed or naked. He makes me hot with nothing more than a look.

I bend my knees and open my legs, already panting.

“Good girl.” He sets one finger on my inner thigh and trails it up and down, coming closer and closer to my pussy without actually touching me there.

I’m breathing heavily and struggling to remain still while he tortures me with his casual strokes.

“Open your pussy for me, Brynn. Pull your lips apart with your hands.”

I’m trembling as I obey him, opening myself up and driving my arousal higher. I arch my chest and moan while he continues to stare at me and stroke me nowhere important with one finger.

“What do you need, baby?”

“I need to come, Sir.”

“Would you like to rub your clit while I watch? Or would you rather I do it?”

“Please do it, Sir. Please touch me.” I can’t believe this is happening. I can’t believe I’m lying here, spread open and vulnerable. It’s not me. And yet, I want this more than I’ve ever wanted anything.

He grazes his fingers over my labia, not touching me in the right places but still driving my arousal higher.

When I lift my hips, trying to get more contact, he shakes his head. “Stay still, baby. Don’t move. You’ll take what I offer.”

I will certainly take whatever he offers. I’m not capable of doing otherwise. I’m shaking, but I stay as still as possible.

“Good girl.” He trails his finger between my parted folds finally, dragging my wetness up over my clit.

I moan and arch uncontrollably.

He pulls his finger away. “Tsk. What did I say?”

I whimper and writhe. “Please…”

“What did I say, Brynn?”

I find my voice. “To remain still, Sir.”

“If you move again, I will stop, and you will go to sleep wanting. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir.” Oh, God. How will I manage to obey him?

His finger is back. He dips it through my folds, not entering me, and then circles my clit until my eyes roll back and I think I might pass out from need. Has anyone ever fainted from orgasm denial?

Suddenly, when I think I might start convulsing, he leans over my pussy, covers it with his mouth, and sucks.

I scream. Oh, God, I’m glad Georgia and Sebastian are not in the penthouse. Holy hell.

I come so hard that all I can focus on is his mouth and the way his tongue is licking my clit and stroking through my folds. It’s the most amazing experience. I don’t know a thing about what it might be like to actually have sex—penetrative sex with his erection inside me. But if it’s half as good as having him eat my pussy, I’ll die during it. The man hasn’t penetrated my pussy with anything yet, not even his tongue.

After licking around my folds, he lifts his head. “Such a good girl. That was delicious. Maybe I’ll do that every night.” He licks his lips as he sits back and pulls the covers up my body.

He stands, leans over, and kisses my cheek. “Sleep well, baby. Your alarm is set for five. Charles will be ready to take you to work at five-thirty.”

My only response is a nod because I don’t have full control of my brain cells yet. I watch as Mr. Bennett leaves the room. He pulls the door almost closed but leaves it open a crack.

Somehow, that small thing makes me moan. He’s so controlling that he can’t even shut the door all the way. I may be alone in this room, but I’m not entirely alone. There is a sliver of light coming from the hallway that connects me to him. I wonder if he leaves his door open, too.

I close my eyes and take deep breaths. I don’t even care that I’m naked. I’m going to sleep like a log.