Broken Record

Chapter 16: Benton and Stevie

"There are rules." Benton pulled his lips away from hers just enough to talk, crashing his mouth down again before continuing, "I never break them. There are no second chances." He bit Stevie's lip and she let out a moan, wanting more of his mouth, of his tongue and less of his words.

"This room is an alternate reality for me. My world's never cross." He stared down at her, his hand firmly gripping her hair, his eyes wild with need. "Outside of this room you don't exist to me any more than any other employee. You won't talk to me or even look at me any differently than you did before tonight. Understand?"

Stevie nodded 'yes' knowing full well that she had no idea what she was really agreeing to. Alternate reality? She didn't know how she would be able to sit in another boardroom meeting with Benton again without her neck and chest breaking out in a hot flush, but the feeling of his hands and his lips had her willing to try.

"Good. Get back on the table." Stevie wanted to protest, wanting their couch kissing to continue but Benton was already picking up the discarded cream rope, wrapping it expertly around his wrists. Stevie walked over to the padded table, getting into position more quickly this time. She heard her own blood pumping loudly in her ears, the sound both frightening and erotic. Benton's soundtrack, she thought to herself.

"Same position, ankles and wrists back." Benton's voice vibrated with need, its calmness only intensifying the fact that he was barely containing himself. Stevie put her limbs behind her back, wondering how she could crave something so foreign so quickly. He wrapped her limbs, the loops tighter than before but she focused on her breathing. She wanted to please him. She wanted to feel her body hum like it had before, the all-consuming tension of limbs combined with the crazed feeling of his touch. It was pain right at pleasure's edge, impossible to distinguish between the two.

"You will only call me Mr. X. If you ever say my real name in this room again, this is over." Stevie took note, wondering if such a minor slip up would really be that big of an offense but then she remembered the man at her back, the man who was lifting the black fabric of her dress over her ass and slipping his fingers into her wet skin and she knew the answer was undoubtedly 'yes.' He was not to be crossed.

"Ahhh, fuck." Stevie let out a whoosh of breath as Benton put two fingers in her cunt and one in her ass. She bit down on the inside of her cheek to keep from saying his name, every fiber in her body hyperware of where he touched her.

"So fucking perfect." Benton's words were hoarse, more spoken to himself than to her but she felt her body flush with approval. Her thighs started to shake when he abruptly removed his fingers, the tell tale sound of a condom wrapper echoing throughout the room.

"Last chance," Benton's voice was tight, his cock at Stevie's entrance. She couldn't see him, the tightness of her constraints preventing her from turning around. She nodded her head 'yes' desperate for more. For anything. For release.

"Fuuuuck. So. Goddamn. Tight." Benton bit out each word, his body jerking as he pushed himself fully inside of her. Stevie pulled hard at her constraints, her body feeling so stretched and so full that she thought she might break. A whimper, both of pleasure and pain tumbled out past her lips.

"God, I'd kill for that sound." Benton pulled out and thrust himself back in, Stevie letting out another involuntary yelp, her small body adjusting to the size of him. Benton wrapped his large hands around her perpendicular shins, using her legs as leverage as he pounded into her, his pace relentless. Stevie felt tears spring at the corners of her eyes, her body higher than it had ever been, her legs shaking with anticipated release. She felt her cheek rub against the leather of the table, her lips going slack as whiteness filled the space behind her eyelids.

"Oh, fuck! Fuuuuuck." Her cry was guttural and as she came down from her orgasm, she felt Benton moving impossibly harder inside of her, his body shaking before he found his own release, a growl erupting from his throat.

Benton braced himself on his palms over her body, breathing deeply a few times before reaching to untie her constraints, her languid spent limbs falling gracefully to the table. Stevie couldn't move, the only sound in the room was their rapid breathing as they tried to return to normal.

She heard Benton's zipper and a door opening, finally forcing her body to a standing position even though she felt spent enough to fall asleep. Benton emerged from the bathroom, his jaw noticeably less tense, his lips more supple. But his eyes were hard, impenetrable glass. Unlike Stevie's who were milky and lazy, still heavy lidded from her orgasm.

"I prefer Thursdays. Tuesdays are an alternative. You'll get a text each week. Not from me. Never, ever text me." His eyebrows raised higher on his forehead in a threatening gesture at his last words. Stevie swallowed past the lump in her throat, her body too spent to even nod.

"There's water and food in the kitchenette. Help yourself on the way out." He shrugged on his sportcoat and turned, the metallic ding of the door locking behind him. Stevie looked down at her wrists, her ankles. The delicate skin indented and light pink, the feeling of pins and needles rushing under the surface.

She walked into the bathroom and splashed her overheated face with cold water. She'd been seeking an edge. And she'd found it. A lethal one. Benton didn't do goodbyes or thank you's. He fucked. Really fucked. Stevie's hands shook as she held them under the cool water, wondering for a moment if the entire thing had really happened. If it hadn't just been some sort of wet dream nightmare. But then she saw the marks on her wrists, felt the soreness at the apex of her thighs from the size of him. And she knew it had been real.

But she also felt another sensation. Calm. Blankness. Satiated. The constant stream of energy that coursed through her, that kept her up days on end with no avenue for release other than her music, felt quieted. It was a feeling she could get used to. A feeling she could crave.