Broken Record

Chapter 23: Stevie

"Touch me." Her voice was determined, needy. She didn't care that Benton was in control. She needed him to hear her, to understand how her thighs were shaking, her biceps quivering. The restraints tighter and digging into her soft flesh deeper than the first time. Then Benton smiled. All Machiavellian, evil, sexy, the villain. The villain she wanted, needed to touch her. To bring her some release.

Benton leaned next to Stevie's ear, his hand gripping her inner thigh. "You need this don't you? Just as bad as me." Stevie didn't respond with words, her grunt of frustration and her strain against the ropes her only reply.

"Where?" Benton breathed over her shoulder, ducking his head to nip her skin so hard she yelped out. His hand ghosted past her pussy again, gripping her other thigh, so impossibly close and yet still teasing.

"Please--"

"Tell me. Say it."

"My...pussy." Stevie breathed through gritted teeth, her flush heating, her body coiled and desperate. Benton let out a dark laugh, his hand finally finding her center, pressing the hot pink lace of her panties inside of her, the dampness lubricating his movement.

"Fucking Christ, Stevie." Hearing Stevie's name on Benton's lips, his eyes tracking the movement of his hand. He sounded almost reverent. The devil, the villain, finding his salvation. Stevie let out a gasp as she heard the sound of lace ripping. Then Benton's fingers were back, this time against her bare, wet skin, and she threw her head back, her long blonde hair brushing the leather padded table, the only part of her body that wasn't completely immobilized. She felt her thighs shake as he pressed two fingers in, stroking her from the inside, the biting of the restraints surely leaving marks on her skin.

Benton slid his hands to her hips, reaching behind to grab a globe of each ass in his hands, pulling Stevie forward. She let out a hiss as her wrist restraints pulled tighter, her ass and spread legs closer to the edge of the table. Benton stood over her, staring at her exposed pussy, her dress bunched around her hips, her legs spread. He slowly removed his tie, taking his time, his erection straining painfully against his pants. Stevie squirmed as much as she could, her body warming everywhere as his eyes tracked over her. He unbuttoned his shirt, exposing his neck and upper best. Before Stevie knew what was happening, he bent lower, positioning his head at her bare entrance, his tongue darting out against her skin.

"Oh my god!" Stevie's voice was raspy, her throat suddenly dry, the pressure of Benton's tongue between her thighs causing her body to clench. Her hands involuntarily pulled at her ropes around her wrists, her instinct was to bury her hands in this thick, wavy brown hair, pulling at the strands as his tongue pleasured and tortured her. But she couldn't. All she could do was feel everything he was giving her, his teeth pulling gently before his tongue returned. He was ravaging her like she was the only focus of his world. Like being between her restrained thighs was the only place on Earth one of the most powerful men in the music industry wanted to be. Stevie knew that was a dangerous thought, the idea that this meant more to either of them than sex, but she couldn't help it from creeping into her mind as pleasure, bright white and hotter than she'd ever experienced, threatened to explode, her orgasm imminent.

Benton pulled up, his lips glistening, his eyes heated. He braced his hands on either side of her hips, scooting her forward again. Stevie wanted to cry, to scream. She had been so close, with his lips and his tongue at her center, so close to release. Benton smirked at her like he was reading her mind, his hand going to his pocket as he pulled out a condom.

"Soon, baby. Trust me I'm just as on edge as you." Baby. Stevie's mind flashed at hearing that small but powerful word and watched Benton as he pulled his erection from his slacks, sheathing himself with the condom. Baby. It was nothing, it was everything. Before Stevie could overthink it any further, Benton was thrusting into her, her ass nearly coming off the table as he buried himself balls deep, his hands gripping the table's edge.

He reached around to her lower back, pressing her body impossibly closer to his. Stevie threw her head back again, tears springing at the corners of her eyes. It hurt so good, his strong powerful body ramming into hers, her body straining against the table.

"So. Fucking. Good." Benton breathed out against the top of Stevie's head, grunting as he pounded into her. Stevie's entire body was quaking, her orgasm hitting her so hard her vision blurred, her awareness of her restraints fading away as she felt herself floating outside of her own body. This was bliss. It was more than fucking. And it was nowhere near love. It was like drugs or therapy or euphoria. Whatever it was, Stevie was hooked, and her satisfaction grew as Benton cursed out loudly, the man of control losing himself entirely inside of her. He caught himself before his full body weight fell on top of her, his release so powerful it even took him by surprise.

Stevie felt completely spent, sweat at her temples, her body sore as Benton stood and quickly discarded his condom, his hair disheveled and his eyes hooded. He worked quickly, expertly untying each restraint as Stevie felt pins and needles flooding her extremities. When he undid her wrists, Benton caught her around her back, Stevie's lack of strength threatening she'd fall. He carried her over the couch, resting her in his lap as he messaged her ankles and her wrists. Stevie's head fell against his strong chest, her breathing finally returning to normal.

Stevie felt herself drifting off to sleep as Benton gently lifted her from his lap and set her on the couch. He returned a moment later, some type of salve or lotion in his hand that he spread over her tender skin, soothing the rope marks.

"Feel okay?" Benton massaged the back of Stevie's neck, her eyes still closed. A lazy smile spread across her lips.

"No."

"No?" Benton's face stretched with tension, his eyes scanning her body for any sign of injury.

"I don't feel okay," Stevie breathed, her pale green eyes fluttering open, "I feel amazing."

"Always with the unexpected." Benton's voice was a low whisper, his hand still massaging at the back of her head. Stevie sat up slowly, awareness of the slight burning at her ankles and wrists coming to her as she gently rested her bare feet flat on the ground. She hadn't been exaggerating. She had felt amazing. But now was the awkward part. The after. The moment when she couldn't pretend Benton was some random Mr. X who knew exactly how to tie up and fuck her body into oblivion. He was her boss. The man in the suit. The titan. A total stranger. Stevie stood and made her way to the restroom, splashing cold water on her face and attempting to calm her wayward hair. She adjusted her dress, remembering how Benton had completely shredded her lace underwear, leaving her bare and sore between her thighs.

When she emerged from the bathroom, Benton was pulling his expensive sports coat over his shoulders, stuffing his discarded tie in his breast pocket. That was it. Amazing, intense, earth shattering. But finite. So fucking finite it felt like a shard in Stevie's chest. Benton had slicked his hair back into position, his stoic marble expression firmly in place. He was leaving. Getting in some car to be whisked off to who knows where to do who knows what. Stevie only knew him here and in the boardroom. Not that he knew that much about her either, other than she'd been thrown into his life for her illegal pirating activity and apparently had a hidden penchant for being tied up.

"Next week," Benton spoke, his words calm and controlled, "I want Tuesdays too. Can you do that?"

Can she do that? Hell, Stevie was dangerously close to offering him Monday through Sunday if he asked for it. But instead of voicing this, she simply nodded, swallowing hard. Two days a week was better than one.

"I can do that."

"Good." He lowered himself to her ear, and Stevie's breath left her body thinking he was about to kiss her goodbye, showing her some form of endearment. But instead he spoke close to her ear, his words clinical.

"Put that salve on your skin twice a day. Will help with the healing." And then he was striding out of the room with the same confidence and closure as if a meeting had just ended.

A meeting, Stevie thought to herself, Benton's secret meetings had just gone from once a week to twice a week. And Mary would certainly take notice.