บททั้งหมดของ Dirty Forbidden Confessions: บทที่ 81 - บทที่ 90

The woman at the front desk winces before she even starts talking. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Aldridge. System error. We only have one room available, and with the conference, every hotel within fifty miles is booked solid."Bennett Aldridge stands beside me, six foot three of controlled irritation in a tailored charcoal suit. I've been his executive assistant for a year now, hired straight out of community college at nineteen, and I've never seen him lose his composure. But this is close."One room." His voice is dangerously soft. "Miss Carver and I booked two.""Yes, sir, I see that, but..." She gestures helplessly. "One king bed. We'll comp everything."He takes the key cards without another word and turns to me. "I apologize. This is completely unacceptable.""It's fine." I keep my voice steady even though my pulse is racing. "We're adults. We can share."The elevator ride is silent. I'm pressed against one wall, he's against the other, and the

He collapses beside me, both of us gasping, his cum leaking out of me onto the hotel sheets. My whole body is trembling, oversensitive, wrecked in the best way. I can still feel the ghost of him inside me."Holy shit." I stare at the ceiling, trying to catch my breath. "That was...""Not done." He rolls onto his side and pulls me against him, one hand sliding possessively over my hip. "That was round one.""Round one?" I laugh, but it comes out shaky. "Bennett, I can barely feel my legs.""Good." He kisses my shoulder, my neck, the spot behind my ear that makes me shiver. "Means I'm doing my job."His hand travels up my stomach to cup my breast, thumb circling my nipple lazily. I'm so sensitive that even that light touch makes me gasp."We should talk." I manage to say it even as my body arches into his hand. "About what happens after tonight.""After tonight, you come home with me." He pinches my nipple and I whimper. "Not as my assistant. As mine.""It's not that simple.""It is." H

He cuts the ropes binding me to the chair but keeps my wrists tied together. I'm too weak to fight, too fucked out to run, and we both know it. He picks me up like I weigh nothing and carries me to a mattress in the corner of the warehouse, dropping me onto it. The blindfold stays on. I can't see anything, can only feel and hear. His footsteps moving around me. The rustle of clothing. The sound of a belt unbuckling. "Please." My voice is wrecked. "I need..." "What do you need?" "I don't know." It comes out like a sob. "I don't know anymore." "Yes, you do." The mattress dips as he kneels beside me. His hand wraps around my throat, not squeezing, just holding. "You know exactly what you need. You've known since you woke up in that chair. You just won't say it." "I can't." "You can." His other hand slides between my thighs, fingers pushing inside me. I'm so wet it's embarrassing, cum and arousal coating his hand. "Your body already knows. Your pussy is begging for my cock. All you

I don't know his name. I've never asked. He's never offered. What I know is this: every time I have a week that breaks me, I end up at the same dive bar on the wrong side of town. And every time I walk in, he's already there. Same booth in the back corner. Same glass of whiskey. Same dark eyes that find me the moment I step through the door. Tonight was the worst week yet. Project tanked. Boss screamed at me in front of everyone. I cried in the bathroom at lunch and then stayed four hours late fixing someone else's mistake. By Friday, I was hollow. So here I am. No panties. I learned that rule months ago, the first time he slid his hand up my thigh and found cotton. He pulled his hand back and didn't touch me for the rest of the night. Made me sit there, desperate and aching, while he finished his drink and left without a word. I never made that mistake again. The bar is half-empty. Some regulars at the counter, a couple in a booth near the window. Nobody looks at me as I walk tow

He pulls out and tucks himself away while I lie there, wrecked and leaking onto his leather seats. My whole body is trembling. My face is still stinging from his slaps. My throat is raw from his cock. I have cum dripping from both holes. "Get up." He opens the car door. "Back inside. Get your purse." I stare at him. "What?" "You heard me." He nods toward the bar. "Walk back in there. Get your things. Then come back to me." "I can't..." I look down at myself. My skirt is wrinkled and stained. My hair is a mess. My makeup is smeared from crying. And I can feel his cum starting to run down my thighs. "Everyone will know." "Yes." He says it like that's the point. "They will." Part of me wants to refuse. To clean up first, wait until I look presentable. But the way he's looking at me makes refusal impossible. This is part of it. Part of the humiliation I crave and he knows I crave. I climb out of the car on shaky legs. The walk back to the bar feels endless, every step making me mor