"Shhh Sweetcakes, this is just the beginning."
I smile at her intense reaction loving that I am giving this to her. Slowly I push inside and just as quickly remove the pink device. I move in between her legs and push them farther apart. Right as I get the entire vibrator inside her and she starts to moan closing her eyes, I pull it from her and shut it off.
"Okay, that was fun, now next question."
Morgana is actually gritting her teeth at me. Oh it seems my little temptress doesn't like to be teased back. Hmm, I will have to work on that with her.
"You’re a bastard," she growls at me.
"No I wasn't. I had a mother and father. Which I am sure you would like to know about. My father was an amazing man. He was an engineer for the city and loved me and my sister. He would take us to O'Hare airport every Sunday and we would have a picnic in his car and watch the planes go by. I was really into planes when I was young. Even considered getting my pilots license once, but things change I guess. Anyway, I had a cool dad and my sister was twelve years younger than me, so she was too tiny to get it, and when she was really little we didn't bring her. I loved my dad a lot. My mom on the other hand? Well if she had a chance to do things differently she would never have had kids. She loved her career more than us."
My face forces a half smile and I notice Morgana's eyes have grown soft. I know she wants to touch me right now, comfort me, but I have to say I prefer it this way. Compassion is not an emotion I wish to evoke in others, especially when it comes to my past. Tiffany would always try to give me hugs but it made me feel uncomfortable. Even Edgar reached out from time to time, but I have always felt better alone. The emotions can be sorted and controlled on my own, when tenderness presents itself everything becomes a blur.
"They all were killed in a drunk driving accident on December twentieth, ten years ago."
"Potatoes," her voice gentle and it causes me to close my eyes. This isn't how I imagined how this would play out. I thought if I brought the toys in and got her aroused the feelings could be pushed aside. I guess I am just realizing how powerful the heart really is.
I move to untie her and rub at her wrists, bringing her arms down to her. She pulls me down beside her and we cradle each other. Morgana dots my face with soft kisses.
I can hear her stomach rumble loudly so I lift my head and brush some loose tendrils away from her face.
"How about we order room service? And for dessert we can get the biggest slice of cake as long as I get to feed it to you."
Her eyes grow large and a silly grin seizes her face.
"Henrik, you had me at cake."
Chapter 12
Payne's Rule Six: Don't get yourself in a compromising position
It's the Tuesday after I got back from London. I left chilly and wet England for bite-my-ass cold in Chicago. Oh and it's snowing here. Yes, one of the few times it actually snows in April. As much as I love the snow, it forces Morgana to bundle up. I don't like it when she wears extra clothing.
Though I can't complain right now as she is wearing a very low cut fitted black cashmere sweater with a tight lavender pencil skirt. And I know hiding underneath is her famous thigh high stockings. Have I told you how much I love that she wears those things? If someone held a gun to my head and told me I had to pick between her not wearing the stockings anymore or the glasses, I would be dead. There is no way to choose.
I am watching her right now on the opposite side of my desk gnawing on her cake pen. Yes, the woman has a cake topped pen. Perhaps there is a cake lovers anonymous for her.
My eyes keep flicking back and forth between her ample cleavage and how her lips curl around her pen. Captain Cock has a lot to say on the matter, but I am keeping him muffled for right now.
"So it's been eating away at me since we got back," she speaks, rousing me from my fantasies. The ones where she is bent over my desk or underneath my desk with my cock in her mouth or her tits pressed against the glass while I fuck her from behind. You know, the typical fantasy.
"Huh?" I question because I really haven't been listening to her. I know that is terrible of me but to be honest that has been true for most of our business relationship. It’s not that I never hear her or her ideas; it’s that she distracts me sometimes with her body. I am thankful in a way that I have a reputation for being demanding and a jerk, so when I happen to not hear her because my mind keeps focusing on her thighs I can play it off as just being an asshole.
She is frowning at me. I think she has caught on to my lustful distractions.
"I said the distribution problem in Europe has been bothering me since we got back."