Rub Me The Right Way (Erotic Short Story Book 1) Page 2

  “How could you...what makes you think that?”

  “The pressure you carry here.” His hands grip my lower back, one hand on each side. The feeling of his thumbs being so forceful has me whimpering. “Sexually frustrated women tend to carry extra tension here. From the stiffness, I would estimate eight to ten months at least.”

  Put those numbers together my friend.

  Klous' thumbs dig into my skin again and a moan escapes me before I can catch it like I have the others. “You removed your underwear.”

  “I did...”

  His whisper is in sync with his hands, “You left no boundaries.” Before I have time to respond he says in my ear, “And I'm going to show you what happens when you relinquish control.”

  Klous' hands leave my body, but I don't move. I'm not sure I remember how. Or that I want to. Is he suggesting what I think he is? No. No possible way he's saying what I think...scratch that...what I'm praying he's saying. That's not how life works.

  Once the sound of running water, from washing his hands, stops, I let my eyes close again. His footsteps indicate he's moving closer to me yet this time, I don't hear the sound of a bottle opening. I don't hear his hands rubbing together. I don't hear anything.

  With a heavy swallow I lift my body slightly up, which is when he commands, “Body back down, Astin.” I resist the instruction until a firm hand is planted between my shoulder blades. A strange rush of fear and excitement combined, forces me to submit. “I'm in control.”

  Trying to steady my breath becomes even harder as he yanks off the sheet. His hand lands on my ass. He gives it a rough, hard squeeze. The movement causes a groan out of me that I stifle by biting my bottom lip. Klous' fingertips lightly stroke my ass cheeks. Goosebumps rapidly break out across my flesh at the feeling of his thumbs stroking my crack – my body naturally clenching in rejection.

  “Shy?” He questions in what sounds like a joking manner. “Not for long.”

  My eyebrows furrow. I'm not sure what that means. I’m not sure I like where his mind is headed, so I open my mouth to make an argument.

  “Not a word, Astin,” he states with a strict tone.

  Klous returns to the plans he has, fingers running down my crack again as he continues massaging my butt. A slick thumb slowly begins to work the hole that's not used to any sort of attention. Immediately I clench, but when Klous doesn't back off, I take a long deep breath and relax into it.

  “Good girl,” his voice rewards warmly.

  I am not a dog! Or a puppy! Or a pet! Or a–

  A finger slides against my pussy on a slow caress.

  “Oh God...”

  “Open. Wide,” he demands.

  As if my legs are controlled by him instead of me they spread wide and he dips a finger inside not waiting for an invitation. Then again, I guess the wetness that soaked the tip of his finger could count as one. With a thumb applying pressure to my asshole and a finger deep inside of me, I feel full. Content. His thumb pushes deeper at the same time he adds another finger inside my pussy. Obviously in discomfort from the change, my hips wiggle in an attempt to rectify the situation.

  Klous' whispers, “Take it, Astin. All of it.”

  I moan as his two fingers start pumping my pussy while his thumb mimics every single motion in my asshole. The constant friction electrifies my system to the point I'm helplessly rocking back on his fingers, desperate to meet every push. Desperate to consume the only human touch I've had outside of my own for over a year. My groaning and grinding is accompanied with minor moans from him as he works faster and faster to bring me to the edge that I willingly plummet over.

  “I'm coming,” I whimper quietly as all my muscles throb tightly in unison around all three of his fingers. Expecting him to slowly ease off the pressure as I fall to pieces, I'm shocked once more when he increases the force clearly not satisfied feeling anything less than everything.

  Finally, my body starts to calm down from the orgasm, which is when Klous removes his fingers. The abruptness seeps another whimper out of me. In what sounds like a pleased voice he asks, “Miss me already, love?”

  Love? That's not a term of endearment I am used to by any means. Seems a little much for a quick finger bang.

  Prepared to get up, I lift my body only to have it pushed down again. “Stay down. We're not done yet, love.”

  Unsure if I wanna take it to the next level – hell this was adventurous enough for me, and relieved that itch that definitely needed to be scratched was scratched – I object, “But–”

  A sharp pop on my ass causes me to whine from the odd mixture of pleasure and pain. “Close those perfect lips or I'll put something between them.”

  My pussy clenches like it's pleading to have that happen. No! Bad body! We don't just go around obeying other people. We make the rules! We bend the rules. We let this happen and we will decide where we go from here. Which is back to the office.

  “You're not going anywhere, Astin,” Klous claims, the sound of my name off his lips again melts me back into place. God, every time he says it, I don't want to leave. Ever.

  There's a sound I recognize from earlier now echoing in the room. I let out a small sigh. From the noises, I can assume he's going to restart his massage. A cool liquid drips down my ass and my slightly sensitive pussy. It almost feels like a complement to my body that's still sizzling from his fingers. Klous' strong hands begin rubbing the oil gently over my lower back, my hips, my ass, until two fingers slide inside me again creating a very unforgettable stretch of the sore muscles. His wet fingers meet my pulsating muscles, coating them with a warmth that spreads through me rapidly, reheating the dwindling fire. Immediately I draw my body away, the unfamiliar entity enough to make me fight the sensation alone. Klous' long arm drops his hand on my back to keep me still while he continues finger fucking me. There's no other word for it. The rough way his two fingers are pushing inside with such callousness and cruelty, it's hard to know if his aim is to bring satisfaction or agony. While he's thrusting away, my body responds in a cold sweat, sticking me to the table. Moans unwillingly stay buried in my shoulder, behind my bitten lip, lost in my throat as the pleasure of it all becomes so heightened I know I'm going to come again. I never come twice. I never come back to back, yet here I am seconds from it.

  “So...so close...” I warn, which causes him to growl from somewhere deep within.

  “Give it to me,” Klous demands. “Let. Me. Have. Control.”

  I battle to keep my position of power but losing my sanity continues until his fingers grasp my flesh harder.

  A sharp tremble shoots through me and out of my mouth as I prepare to call out the declaration of the action in motion. Klous quickly moves his hand so his fingers are buried in my hair pushing my face into the towel pillow, my pleas of mercy lost to the world.

  “That's it, love. Keep coming for me...” And like some flood gate has been busted, my muscles let go again absorbing the warmth from the liquid, Klous' fingers, and the tiny grunts he's letting go of.

  I'm trembling on the table near the verge of tears when his hands draw themselves slowly from my body, releasing me back into reality. Even without his fingers slaving my body, I continue shaking like a fish out of water desperate for air.

  Sweetly Klous instructs, “Relax, love.”

  How the fuck is that possible? How can I do anything other than lay here? Broken. Shattered. Orgasmicly shattered. Is that a real thing?

  My eyes drift closed again, the faint sound of running water thanks to my heartbeat pounding so heavily. There's a warm cloth on top of my pussy forcing me to briefly shudder again. After I'm cleaned up, the sheet I thought had disintegrated from the heat in the room is placed back over my ass. His hands begin pawing at my back resuming the massage as if nothing else took place. Just when I thought his hands couldn't give me any more delight they drift me to a place where my mind is blank. Clear. Calm. I don't remember the last time I felt this...peaceful.

  For what feel
s like hours, Klous' hands work out all any remaining kinks he finds in silence.

  Sadly the massage comes to an end as his hands slide off my body and his heated voice says, “Your session is over, Astin.”

  On a helpless cry I whimper, “Already?”

  He chuckles as I sit up, gripping the sheet not to expose my chest. Seems stupid considering the fact he finger banged me already. “Once you're dressed, Laura will be waiting for you on the other side with a bottle of water. Please enjoy the rest of your afternoon, Miss Astin.”

  A blush hints my mocha cheeks, but I quickly bat it away. I watch as the man with master hands prepares to exit the room.

  Cautiously I call out, “Wait.” Like his body knows how to submit as well, he stops, turns, and listens. Maybe next time I'll be the one calling the shots? “Let me ask you something.”

  He waves a hand for me to continue.

  “Do you do this with all your clients?”

  I watch the most sensuous, sexy smile spread on his face before he replies, “No.”

  Without another word Klous exits the room leaving me confused, curious, but most importantly satisfied – something I haven't been in years.

  Tuesday

  Hope drops a stack of papers in front of me. “The paperwork you requested.”

  I did? Is she sure that was me? Surely, that wasn't me. What the hell would I need mountains of paper for? Casually I grab it and push it to the side as her mouth continues to fly.

  Now in the seat across from me, she drops her tablet of organizational magic on my desk. “There are four potential hires to replace Devin, the editor who put in her two weeks Monday. There is also a list of potential temps to fill in for Sarah. Both have been emailed to you.”

  “Where's Sarah going?”

  Hope looks at me with a sympathetic look. “She's pregnant.”

  Right. I should know that. I should know more people in my life than I do. But when is there time? Deadlines. And bitchy authors. Printing problems. Sales meetings. Marketing meetings. More deadlines. Did I mention deadlines? “I should–”

  “You already did. You sent a small baby bonus as well as baby shower gift a month ago.”

  That's code for Hope did it. What would I do without her? “Thank you.”

  “You're welcome. Now, you have another call with Dani in about twenty-five minutes.”

  “I talked to her two days ago. What could possibly be wrong now?”

  “She's not happy.”

  “Is she ever?” I mumble leaning back in my leather seat.

  My eyes catch a glimpse of the information I could dig up on Mr. Miracle-fingers just lingering on my desktop computer. While their site refuses to list their masseurs or information about them, it pays to know a few people who have ways around that.

  Hope giggles. “No.”

  Silence settles as I stare aimlessly at his photo debating my next move as far as he goes. Yesterday he had me at his mercy. Like a weak, helpless thing I just let him. I'm not that kind of woman. I'm not that fucking cliché. I'm the kind who makes weird demands like to only have six ice cubes in her drink at a restaurant just because I can. I make choices. I...I...I am completely fucked up by what happened yesterday. The meeting I had after is a blur, dinner with my sister is a vague memory, but masturbating furiously to what happened during my massage is clear as fucking day.

  Hope invades my thoughts. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” I stumble over the words. Grabbing a pen to busy my hands I ask, “Why?”

  “You seem...well you seem distracted,” she states sweetly. “Did that massage not help your stress level?”

  Helped it and gave it a new fucking level. “It did.” I clear my throat quickly. “Speaking of, how did you find that place?”

  “Um, it's totally a by reference only place. Tina gave me the card to give to you at the last dinner we went to. She said she loved it.”

  Feeling a small bit of jealousy in my body I question, “Did she have Klous too?”

  “No.” She shakes her head. “He's new.”

  “Yeah?” I cut back to the information on the screen about him. The photo it's linked with has him smirking softly in workout gear.

  “Why? Was he bad?”

  In an inaudible tone I reply, “Absolutely not.”

  “Do you want me to ask for a different–”

  “No!” Hope's mouth clamps shut and I realize my bite was harsher than it should've been. “He was good. Did his job.” Seeing her suspicious look coming I point the pen at her. “Now do yours. I need lunch ordered. Not salad–”

  “A sandwich?”

  “Tuna. And an updated version of Kayla's contract to view.”

  “On it.” Hope hops up with her tablet. Not so gently she reminds me, “Emails...”

  “Yeah, yeah.” I shoo her away.

  The second my office door is closed I start skimming through the information on Klous. His father is German while his mother is Swedish, but he was raised in the states. Explains his perfect English with a faint accent. Also explains the strange balance of dominance with a hint of sweetness. Scrolling down the information I note his mother was a stay at home mom, his father some sort of engineer. He has one brother, lives in an apartment not too far from my own, and most importantly he is single. Single is good. Single is great. My own singleness is what played a major factor into where I let the appointment lead yesterday.

  “Boss,” Hope's voice startles my hand that was wandering south at that memory. It had no business doing that! I didn't give it my approval. Stupid hand.

  “Hm?”

  “I've got a Mr. Klein on the phone insisting to speak to you.”

  “Mr. Klein?” I echo confused until my eyes catch Klous' last name. Hoping it's him, I reply. “Let him through.”

  She nods in understanding and disappears again. A few moments later there's a beep of my office phone and I answer calmly, “This is Miss Anderson.”

  “Afternoon, Astin,” Klous says on the other end of the line.

  Biting my bottom lip to hold back my giddiness, I return the greeting, “Afternoon.”

  “How are you feeling?”

  Now? Tense. Horny. Wet. What the fuck is wrong with me? My pussy shouldn't be this excited already.

  “Better,” my voice chokes out, toying with the pen in my possession further. “What can I do for you?”

  “You can spread your legs for me and let a finger glide across that skin of yours I wish I was touching right now.”

  The request makes a small moan slip out of my mouth. Wanting to comply yet not wanting to be the mindless drone I was yesterday I counter, “And why would I do that?”

  “Because you haven't stopped thinking about me since I left you a quivering mess yesterday.”

  Fact. Fuck him for that.

  “It's okay to let someone else drive, Astin.”

  “I always let others drive. I hate driving.”

  The light laugh makes me smirk. “Then open those legs, love.”

  Intrigued, I toy with the idea before caving. I turn my chair to face the wall where my awards hang, wiggle my skirt up and spread my legs slightly.

  “Wider.”

  Can he see me? I inch my heel covered feet barely further apart.

  “Don't toy with me, Astin,” Klous grouses. “When I say wide. I. Mean. Wide.” Swallowing my anxiety I do as I'm told, my breath faltering. “Good girl. Now. Take your hand and slip it up your inner thigh. Slowly.”

  I drag my fingertips up my inner thigh closing my eyes as the buzz of thrill starts coating me. Picturing it's his hand instead, I apply just a little more force to get a more accurate feeling.

  “Across the outside of that thong.” My fingers follow the instructions as he questions, “What color is it?”

  “Red,” I coo back.

  “Is it silk?”

  Breathlessly I hum, “Mmhm…”

  “Apply just a little pressure to your clit over your thong.” When I do my mout
h whimpers and he praises me, “You have the most incredible fucking moans.” Another leaks out of me and he asks, “You wet, love?”

  “Yes.”

  “How wet?”

  From the question alone, my pussy becomes even more drenched. “Very.”

  “Want those fingers inside?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good,” he drops his voice down to a hushed tone. “Drag them over the outside again softly teasing yourself. Bring yourself to the edge, Astin.” My fingers play with my pussy over my thong, absorbing his words like they are the only thing I know. When I feel I'm much closer than I should be he states, “Stop.”