His Need (4 page)

“You fired everyone?” I asked.

“I didn’t fire a person,” Jonathan said.  “I finished my job and left.”

“Making money…”

“Who are you to question me?”

His grip tightened on my face.  I lifted my left hand and thought about tearing his hand off my face. 

Jonathan started to take deep breaths.  His hand on my face shook and finally he let out a long moan, a defeating growl.

“How do you do this to me?  Tell me, Isabella Grace.  How?”

“Do what?”

“You try to break me,” he said.  “And you almost win… your beauty and eyes…”  He looked around the room and then back to me.  “The company was dead.  I had no choice but to do what I did.  The owner, the man you met, Peter Cresh, was a young punk with nothing but greed and dollar signs in his eyes.  He contracted engineers to work for him and never paid them.  He suckered them into signing contracts that would get them paid after product wasn’t just made, but sold.  He layered it with the potential for stock options when the company wasn’t even profitable.  I had no choice but to tear the company to pieces, finding a way to make some kind of money.”

“For yourself.”

“Of course,” Jonathan bellowed at me.  “I managed to sell three of his patents for millions… he walked away with over a million in his pocket.”

“And everyone lost their job,” I added.

I could feel my body wanting to lash out at him.  But I felt paralyzed as he held my cheek.  As he stared at me, I almost felt my heart beginning to tear. 

Then he spoke again.

“Whatever he did with his money I don’t care about.  And for the record, I made sure those engineers were paid for all the work they completed.  Nobody left with nothing.  Nobody suffered.  Nobody died.  Is that what you think of me?”

I was caught.  My eyes told the truth no matter how hard my body could act differently.  My words, if I had any at that point, would have been useless.

“I’m a businessman and I certainly do not wear my heart on my sleeve.  But when I see something that needs to be taken care of, I take care of it.  Why do you think you’re here right now?”

“For you,” I whispered.

“For me.  I’m about to destroy a company I’ve been working with since I was eighteen.  I’m here to takeover what Oliver Rush can’t do… and that’s run a successful company.  The last thing I need is someone who can’t trust me.”

Jonathan let go of my face and walked to the window.  He put his hand back in his pocket and didn’t even look at me when he said, “Take your bag and leave.”

-7-

I didn’t want to leave. 

I couldn’t leave.

I refused to comply with Jonathan’s command.

I just sat on the bed watching him as he watched the city outside.  I could barely make out the reflection of his face on the glass of the window.  He was troubled, deeper than I knew then and probably would ever know.  But that didn’t matter to me. 

I needed Jonathan.

My body, my mind, and every part of me needed him.  I needed the man to care for me, to control me, and to guide me.  His words pointed me in a direction and I went.  That direction could have been life or it could have been me in handcuffs pleasuring him.  Whatever it was, I needed Jonathan to command me.  This was beyond a fantasy and beyond the point of lust.  This was… me.  Jonathan was a part of me as much as I was a part of him. 

I knew that and believed it.

He could have thrown me from the hotel room the second I questioned him, but he didn’t.  He answered me.  He casually defended himself.  He wanted me to see him as a man who didn’t just destroy Peter Cresh’s company, but a man who did all he could and made a tough decision.

Jonathan Black’s eyes reflected off the glass and met my eyes.

“I need you,” I whispered.  “I trust you.  With my soul, my life.  With anything.”

“I speak and you don’t listen,” he said.

“You told me there’s a difference between listening and understanding.  I’m listening but I’m not understanding.  I can’t stand and leave this room.”

“Then get on your knees,” he said.  He looked over his shoulder at me as I slid from the bed.  “You really trust me?  With your life?”

I nodded.  “That man had a gun.  He… I needed you there.  I need you with me.”

“I need you to trust me.”

“I do.  Let me prove it.”

That’s when Jonathan turned around.  He walked slowly to a white leather chair that had my bag on it.  He retrieved it and tossed it on the bed. 

“Open your bag and dump it out.”

I stayed on my knees and stretched to get the bag.  I flipped the clasp open and let the handcuffs and blindfold fall out to the bed.

Jonathan lifted the blindfold and let the silky cloth run through his fingers.

“I need full trust,” he said.  “At all times.”

“Yes,” I said.

“You can’t question, not even when someone says things.  My job isn’t to make people happy…”

“I understand,” I said.  “I do.”

“Good.  Now prove your trust to me.”

He stepped towards me with the silk cloth and placed it to my eyes.  I was instantly blinded, the darkness consuming me.  My other senses hurried were heightened with my nose leading the way as I started to take deeper, more concentrated breaths.  I could smell Jonathan in a way I never had before.  The smell went through my body straight to my sensitive parts. 

He tied the blindfold tight and then I waited.

When he touched my shoulders, he pulled, wanting me to stand.  I put my hands to his arms and stood up.  He ran his fingers down my arms and let out a breath.  The warmth came over my face and made everything else warm. 

“I’m going to have you,” he said.  “All to myself.  Forever.  Isabella Grace.”

I didn’t respond.  I didn’t want to respond.  I wanted to be back under his control so I stood there, my body aching for his touch.  When it finally came again, his fingers were at my skirt.  He twisted two of his fingers and the clasp came undone.  Then the zipper was down and my skirt started to fall. 

I shuddered and sighed, wanting more.

His hands pushed my skirt to my ankles and I resisted the urge to step out of it. 

Jonathan teased my soft skin with his fingers, touching my legs randomly, making my sense of touch go wild.  I had to bend my knees at one point and reach for him, holding the sleeves of his suit jacket for balance.

Then his fingers ran over my panties and under my shirt.  I wanted to be upset but I couldn’t be because his hands started to move fast and with passion.  He didn’t even cup my breasts as he passed by them, sliding his hands to my shoulders, forcing my arms up so he could take my shirt off.  I had no idea where he threw it but I felt his fingers at my bra, unclipping it.  Without sight, it felt five times hotter.  My bra came off my arms and was gone.  Jonathan’s hands were there a second later and I moaned. 

He lifted my breasts with both hands, his thumbs moving left to right on my nipples, making them erect.  As I exhaled, I wished for his tongue and my wish was granted.  His tongue flicked my left nipple first and then my right.  My eyes were open and moving and I wanted to see.  I wanted to watch him to give my body that split second chance to react.  He suckled my left nipple for a few seconds then moved to my right nipple.  All sensation then ran to my left nipple waiting for the next touch or taste but Jonathan had other plans.  He kissed my right nipple, sending my body into a state of shock.  I cried for him as his mouth opened.  His mouth spread wide over my breast, engulfing me as his tongue gently caressed my nipple, drawing circle after circle.

I put my head back.  I had no sight anyway so it didn’t really matter.  Jonathan’s hand cupped my left breast with his warm palm, warming me up even more. 

His lips left my breasts and there was a short pause where there was no kissing from him.  Just his one hand on one of my breasts.  I was breathing uncontrollably and I couldn’t contain myself.  I’m not sure how I looked but it couldn’t have been too elegant. 

“Let go of me,” he whispered and I felt his breath touch just under my breasts.

I opened my hands and he was gone.  My head snapped down, my instincts still telling me to watch Jonathan. 
Watch him work!  See him!
  The blindfold served its purpose and I could only gauge where he was by the small puffs of his breath.  Between my legs, my sex ached for more of him.  His lips finally came forward and touched me again.  Of all places to kiss, he chose maybe the hottest spot in that erotic moment.  Literally a centimeter above my panties.  The gentle kiss sent waves rippling through my body, causing me to moan for him as another rush of desperation arrived at my slit. 

He kissed down me, over my panties, but stopped as he reached my sexiest curve.  He then began to kiss my legs, my left leg first, wet kisses with a soft flicker of his tongue as he did so.  After repeating the same kissing on my right leg, his hands were on my hips, turning me.  I stepped and held my balance, shaking as I walked. 

I wanted my sight back.

I wanted to see him.

His hands came forward and then up, both hands on my panties, his thumbs casually sliding along the warm folds of my body.  He rubbed back and forth, testing me, making sure I was responding to him.

“Step back,” he whispered.

I did and felt the bed touch my legs.  He pushed me and I was on the bed.  On my back, my legs hanging off the bed.  I didn’t move but rather let Jonathan run his hands down my legs and open them.  He did and moved in a hurry back to my panties.  He gripped the top of them and pulled with as a man with no time to waste.  I brought my feet to the bed and lifted myself up and he slid my panties down. 

My skirt and panties were then gone, but my heels weren’t. 

Jonathan wanted me to wear my heels.  I’ve never worn heels during sex like this before…

His hands were back on the move, up my body, staying away from my erotic spots but by him just touching me, it turned my body into an entire erotic spot.  His hands against my skin were enough to make me thrust at him, wanting him deep inside me. 

He came up to my neck and kissed my neck on each side then put his lips to mine.  It was a quick kiss but he hovered over me. 

“Slide back on the bed until you reach the pillows.”

“Yes, sir,” I said.

I moved back, letting my hands guide me along the sheets and letting my head tell me when to stop.  I had my head propped up on the large pillows and I spread my legs again.

“Isabella Grace,” Jonathan said, “you look amazing.  You’re so beautiful… inside and out.”

“Inside,” I whispered and lifted myself.

“You could touch yourself if you need to.”

I needed to be touched.  I certainly preferred Jonathan’s touch over my own but my body couldn’t wait any longer.

I touched myself and I jumped.  Without sight, everything was a surprise.  I felt the bed move a little and I hoped that meant Jonathan was getting undressed.  My middle finger and pointer finger curled, touching my wet folds.  I massaged in a slow circle, opening the wetness and touching my sex.  I moved up and down, never penetrating myself, actually teasing and building the anticipation for Jonathan.  My folds moved with my touch and I started to press harder, wanting more.  Needing more.

I got so lost within myself, touching and wishing for Jonathan, that when I felt his hand grab my wrist, I let out a cry.

“My turn,” he said and.

I then felt his presence, his amazing body over mine.

When his lips touched my chest, my hands came around him, my nails digging into his back.  His lower body came down and I felt the tip of him touch me.  My tender folds welcomed him as he pressed himself at me.  I lifted and moaned and he thrust, finally entering me.  Inch by inch he moved slowly, opening me, knowing that my sense of touch was heightened because my sight had been taken away. 

He was deep inside me.  He held there and as I ran my hands from his back to his arms, I followed him and pictured him as I felt him – his hands flat on the bed, his erection inside me, his eyes burning through me.  With a single breath he moved to my ear and kissed me. 

“I need you,” he said.  “I need your trust, Isabella Grace.”

“You have it,” I replied.  My voice cracked and I tried to control my breathing.  Even though Jonathan wasn’t pumping himself it didn’t mean I wasn’t experiencing orgasmic pleasure.  With him inside me, it left my body in a state of pleasure that wouldn’t stop.  My sex would try to relax only to tighten against him and then expand again. 

Jonathan Black was fucking me without moving in and out of me.  He was a man of perfection and power, and he backed it up.

His lips grazed by mine again and that’s when he started to have me.  He slowly built with speed, pulling and pushing in and out of me, his body hanging over mine, his lips an inch away.  When I felt his breath scatter down my chest I knew he was looking down, watching my breasts move as he enjoyed me and watching himself as he pleasured me.  My hands were holding tight grips of the bed sheets and as I started to climax, I dug the back of my heels into the bed and lifted myself. 

Jonathan groaned and pushed himself back, moving to his knees.  His hands held me at my hips and his thrusts grew in speed and intensity.  He meant business as he fucked me, the speed reaching a point that my orgasm climaxed on itself, releasing but building again a second later. 

I started to moan and then gasp and then cry out for him.  Finally, my breath and voice ran out and I could only arch my back and wait for air to come to me.  My body was in a state of paralyzing pleasure, everything connected all at once, from Jonathan’s thick erection moving in and out of me to my tender, hard nipples as they danced with the motion of his sex. 

When I finally found myself, Jonathan pulled from me and pushed my body back to the bed.  I bounced and gasped for air, then reached out, needing more of him.  As he came forward, my fingers found his chest.  By touch, I was able to study his muscular curves.  I then felt him touch my stomach… his moist erection as it climbed up my body.  I started to shudder as he spoke, directing our next task.