Page 140 of The Christmas Trap

And then he reaches down and slaps my cunt, and it’s as if my blood has turned into gasoline and his touch is the spark, and I ignite into a fireball of need. I’m aware of him grunting as he fucks me through my climax.

He plants his big hands on either side of my body, curves over me, half protectively, half in a sign that screams possession. Then he digs his teeth into the curve where my shoulder meets my neck.

The pain is a sharp agony that whips through the drugging orgasm. He holds on with his sharp teeth as he releases his cum inside me. I shudder, half mad with the mix of pleasure-pain, which totally confuses the receptors in my brain.

The feral edge to his gesture sends me over the edge, and I come again. He continues to thrust into me, holding me and fucking me through the aftermath. It feels like he’s taken over my body, possessed me, marked in some deep way I can’t quite give voice too.

And when he finally releases his hold on my shoulder, the blood rushes into the space.

I’m sure I’m bleeding from where he bit me, but as I think that, I know he was careful.

I’m sure he planned the exact pressure to give me maximum pain while leaving the imprints of his teeth in my skin, but he wouldn’t have broken the skin.

Then he pulls out of me, and with measured movements, lowers himself to the side. He pulls me into his arms, and I lay there, once more, listening to the bam-bam-bam of his heart as it thunders against his chest.

The slick flesh of his cock, still half-swollen, lazily nestles against my side.

"This is going to be a problem," he rumbles, half to himself.

I look up. "A problem?"

He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, his expression half-awed, half-frustrated.

"I can’t seem to go long without wanting to fuck you."

"Umm, I don’t see any problem with that," I say primly.

He smirks. Then grabs a handful of my butt and squeezes. "It does mean that I’m not going to stay too far away from you at any time. What do you think about that?"

47

Brody

Turns out, she wasn’t averse to the idea at all.

Over the next few days, she also slipped into the role of the CEO like she was born to do it. I brought her up to speed with the obvious things: briefings on current board dynamics, key department heads she needed to build rapport with, upcoming product launches, media touchpoints.

There was also the less visible layer: understanding the rhythms of the business, the politics woven through every email and offhand comment, the unspoken alliances that shaped every major decision.

The more I gave her, the more I saw how capable she was. I had no doubt that she was going to kill it. The time we spent together worked in my favor.

We spent a lot of time alone in my office. I made full use of my CEO privileges for the time I still had them.

I'd darken the office walls, lock the door, and ask the newly appointed EA to my ex-EA not to disturb us.

Then I’d fuck my wife.

I made sure to keep nipple and clit clamps on hand to heighten her pleasure. My desk was the right height to bend her over it, while the paddle I purchased was perfect for leaving reddened rectangles over the curve of her butt.

It doesn’t mean I neglected the handover of my CEO duties, either.

I walked her through investor expectations, reviewed legacy deals she was inheriting, flagged the power players who didn’t sit at the table but controlled half the room. We combed through strategy decks, HR restructures, confidential staff issues, and vendor contracts worth millions.

Very soon, all the information I've carried around in my head and in the files is hers.

It’s a testament to her astuteness that a handover which should have taken months was accomplished in days. Which is a pity. I’d hoped it would take longer. I was enjoying our workday trysts.

The evenings have been all mine. And I’ve used the time to take her out to dinners and to the movies, before bringing her home, tying her up, and fucking her.