Page 11 of Filthy Mouth (Obsessive Age Gap #2)

Poppy

Time seemed to drag today, but it didn't help that my mind kept wandering off. I ’ d sold myself for the guaranteed success of my company.

The business side of the contracts was straightforward enough, but it was the darker side that made my heart beat faster.

After our flirtatious exchange last night, I could admit I needed some fun in my life.

Delphina’s constant disdain for my unladylike behaviour was my trigger.

As a child, it had been soul-destroying being constantly compared to Annabelle, my heart was shattered when my father joined in.

Two years after my mother died, I lost whatever relationship I’d had with my father.

It was a difficult period of adjustment for an eleven-year-old.

I was forever grateful for my Nana, without her—I’d have lost myself completely.

Grace Winborne had been a tough old bird, and she saw through them all.

Her loss had been as painful as losing my mother—the last person in my corner.

I smiled to myself, imagining the horror if my family discovered my entanglement with Benedict. They all loved to look down on me, and it was nice to give them something to be scandalised about.

Benedict Lancaster struck me as the kind of man who would never flinch, no matter what I suggested.

Sexually adventurous, unapologetic—and that was dangerously exciting.

I couldn ’ t picture him saying no to anything I wanted to try.

He could become addictive if I wasn ’ t careful.

The kind of addiction that ruined you while making you beg for more.

Although this wasn ’ t a traditional relationship, it had the potential to work alongside our busy work schedules. Benedict was driven and successful. There was much that I could learn from him.

Who was I kidding?

I wanted that massive dick all to myself.

I sighed and glanced at the time again.

My phone vibrated and I picked it up with a smile—one that vanished the second I read the words.

Hi, Poppy. It ’ s Edmund. I hope you don ’ t mind, I got your number from Delphina. Could we meet up for dinner tomorrow? I can pick you up from work or home .

They wouldn ’ t give up. This was their next ploy. I considered blocking his number, but decided to leave him on read. There was no way in hell I was saving his number or replying to him.

If I had to pick from forty-year-olds, I ’ d take Benedict ’ s tried-and-tested dick every single time. I nibbled on my lip, remembering the painful stretch in my throat as he’d forced himself down my neck.

The visceral heat, ache and disgusting mess.

“Ugh.”

I tossed my phone onto the paperwork strewn across my desk and turned back to my screen. A thought occurred to me, and just like that, my irritation vanished. I picked up the phone and messaged Benedict.

Me: I ’ m sorry I can ’ t make it tonight .

I knew messing with him would get me into trouble, but I ’ d always been a rebel.

I ’ d lost count of how many times I was told to be more like Annabelle while she’d had that constant smug smirk on her face.

She was two years younger than me and was Delphina’s minion.

The two had a twisted, toxic mother–daughter relationship, but they always had one another ’ s back, which ensured my isolation.

The phone rang, and I answered it.

“ What ’ s wrong?” he demanded.

I opened my mouth to talk, but he continued.

“ Are you backing out? Well, you can ’ t. I ’ ll be waiting outside your office.”

I almost laughed.

“ Hello to you too, Daddy,” I said lightly, letting the word roll off my tongue like a promise.

A beat of silence stretched between us, thick and loaded.

“ Hello.” His response was curt, but the way he said it made my pulse trip.

“ You sound tense,” I said, leaning back in my chair, my voice softer, testing.

Another pause. I could almost feel the weight of his stare through the phone.

“ Are you fucking with me?” he growled.

I bit my lip as my pussy clenched at the sound of his gruff voice. The tension last night had been palpable.

“ Yes, but I needed to ask you a favour.”

“ Hmm. It depends on how I feel after I punish you. Go on.”

“ My family are trying to set me up with someone—”

“ What the fuck?”

I ignored his outburst and continued.

“ There ’ s a party that I ’ m expected to attend next weekend and I’m sure they will attempt to ambush me with him again. Can you come with me? It will get them off my back.”

There was another pause before he spoke.

“ You do realise that our names will be linked in public?”

“ Do you think I give a damn what people think or say about me?”

He chuckled. It was warm and throaty. Why was everything about this man so damn appealing?

“ I ’ m game to give them a show if you are.”

“ Perfect. Thank you, Daddy. I will see you at the bar.”

“ I look forward to making you pay. Be a good girl until then, Poppy.”

I grinned.

“ Sure. Bye, Daddy,” I said, and hung up.

I had a feeling I ’ d enjoy Benedict ’ s brand of punishment.

I ’ d already spent far too much time online researching BDSM dynamics and furnishing options.

This project was unlike any other I ’ d taken on.

Staying impartial would be impossible when all I could picture was the countless ways we could make use of his newly refurbished den of iniquity.

This would be a fun six months, and I intended to enjoy every filthy second of it.

??

??

??

The lace hold-ups rubbed together as I took my drinks to the same table that I’d sat at the last time I was at the bar.

The sensation only made me anticipate tonight even more.

I sat down with my tequila shot and tequila sunrise.

Drinking on an empty stomach wasn't advisable, but the day’s nervous energy got the better of me.

I was torn between excitement and nerves.

In the end, I ’ d left work early to get some liquid courage in me.

Daydreaming about his one-eyed, veiny monster cock had been counterproductive.

I was sucking on the lemon wedge after my slammer when Benedict arrived. The sound and air around me seemed to disappear. He stared at my lips, and I pulled the lemon wedge out.

He was early.

His hand lifted to tuck his hair behind his ear before his eyes dropped to my drinks. He smiled and turned to the bar. I wiped my hand from where I licked the salt and wondered how long he’d been standing there.

He was dressed in yet another immaculate suit—plain black this time, the label a mystery. But the cut… tailored sharp enough to make a man look lethal.

When he came to the table carrying a tray of tequila shots and his whiskey, I couldn ’ t stop my smile from curling.

“ Hello, Princess. I hope you can show me how you take your tequila shot again,” he said, settling opposite me. His eyes were already on my mouth.

Princess Poppy. I liked the way it sounded—a stark contrast to the cold derision in my family ’ s voices when they said my name. It wasn ’ t until I ’ d moved out that I ’ d truly realised how much they despised me.

“ Your wish is my command, Daddy.” I leaned forward, letting my tongue drag slowly over the side of my hand, glistening the skin before reaching for the salt.

His gaze dipped lower, and I knew he wasn ’ t thinking about tequila anymore—he was picturing that same wet heat wrapped around him, taking him deep.

I pressed the salt to my tongue, slow enough for him to watch every flicker of movement, then tipped the shot back in one smooth pull.

The burn hit my throat, but I didn ’ t break eye contact as I slid the lime between my lips, biting down and sucking the juice until his knuckles went white around his glass.

When his hand slid under the table, I almost jumped. He leaned closer, his fingers travelling higher, and I did what anyone would do in my situation—I parted my legs as far as my skirt would allow.

He hissed when his fingertips reached the lace tops of my stockings.

“ My dirty girl,” he murmured, taking a slow sip of his drink before setting the glass down.

One hand gripped the edge of the table while the other found my pussy. The lace was already damp. I licked my lips as his dark eyes flared hotter.

“ Wait until I get you home,” he said, pulling back at last.

The teasing wasn ’ t as satisfying when the tables were turned. I leaned back in my chair, slid my foot under the table, and pressed it between his legs. Then I reached for another shot, meeting his gaze with a silent dare.

He smirked and pulled my shoe off before gripping my ankle and pulling his chair in until I felt his hard cock beneath my foot. The heat of him burned through the fabric, a silent warning of what I ’ d be dealing with later. I closed my eyes.

Round one to him.