The Prospect Read online

  Copyright © 2012 by Lucia Jordan

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be constructed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Chapter One

  They were so many of them that night, and they all seemed to want a piece of her. The club was trendy, and was usually just her kind of scene. But Wendy felt like none of the male prospects seemed appealing.

  Oh, she may have danced with them, even flirted. But one by one, they waned in her estimation. Something always happened to make her get ticked – or turned, off. Something was missing.

  And then there he was.

  Dark, arresting. He was watching her with penetrating eyes and she liked his look on sight. Smart casual, clean shaven, refined. Just her type.

  He started to make his way to where she stood with a couple of her friends. Sally, a very impish blonde, cooed in appreciation as she watched him head their way. “Please tell me that hotness is coming for me.”

  “Keep dreaming, honey,” Bea, who was of Indian descent, muttered as she pasted a come-on smile on her lips for the advancing male figure. “You can bet he’s mine.”

  “You’re both dreaming,” Wendy said with a good-natured huff, as she tossed her silky auburn hair over her shoulder. “He knows what he wants. And that’s me.”

  Before either of her friends could reply, he was right before them. In moments, he’d charmed all three. “My name’s Alan,” he said after he’d ordered another round of drinks for the ladies.

  “I know,” Wendy said, surprising him. He lifted a brow in her direction. “You’re Alan Pearce, and you run that footwear company, Kickstars. I’m a design consultant; I’ve worked with your people once or twice. We’ve never really come in contact, but the minute you came over, I recalled where I’d seen your face before.”

  “I knew there was a connection,” he said with a humorous smile, and Wendy could virtually see both her friends go limp in defeat as they realize she’d been right: it was Wendy he wanted. He took her hand now, the move confident, possessive. “Dance with me?”

  Heck yes. “Of course,” she said quite primly, throwing a look over her shoulder at her friends that was more a victory glance.

  Okay, so here she was in this swanky club dancing with a hunky millionaire. He moved great which was a plus, but Wendy sort of knew how she really wanted things to go.

  First off, it was that time of the month where she was in the mood to fuck anything that moved. Well, not really, but she was hot tonight. Hot for him. Every other guy she’d met beforehand had left her cold. But the second he’d wrapped his hand around her wrist and pulled her away to dance, she’d wished he was throwing her over his shoulder and out the exit.

  He drew her close. The music demanded it; it was a slow number. Very stirring music, coupled with the fact that she already found the atmosphere between them getting charged.

  Wendy wrapped her arms around his neck as she felt his arms slip around her waist. It was a tight squeeze in the club so she didn’t really mind getting up close and personal with Mr. Dark and Mysterious. Well, that’s what the press called him. She’d seen his face enough times in the papers to know his reputation with women was just as well covered as his success in his field.

  “You feel good,” he told her, breaking into her thoughts. She squirmed at the feel of his lips against her ear lobe. They were cheek to cheek, chest to chest. Groin to groin. She felt that tell-tale hardness between them and couldn’t help smiling. Hmm, jackpot.

  “I feel starstruck,” she returned, softly chuckling. “I don’t get to dance with handsome millionaires every day. Or is it billionaire?”

  “Does it matter?”

  She drew back slightly to look into his eyes. “No, it doesn’t,” she said firmly. It truly didn’t. She’d wanted him even before she realized who he really was. The sense of power, of command he exuded effortlessly, had nothing to do with his bank balance, Wendy felt.

  “Good,” he said in a calm tone. “Because when if I take you home with me tonight, there’s only one thing I want you to focus on. Not my money, not my so-called fame. Is that ok with you, Miss Wendy King?”

  She started in surprise, much by his thrilling words but more by the fact that he knew her name.

  He smiled. “You’re not the only one with a good memory for faces. I remembered you quite well, Miss King. True, we never officially met, but I think I’ve always known who you were. I always make it my business to keep abreast with the promising young talent in the industry, and you stood out for me. That’s why I made sure my team picked your firm to handle that project.”

  “Wow. Small world,” she hushed, eyes shining with pleasure at his compliments. “It’s great to know we aren’t just strangers in the crowd. Though technically, we still are.”

  “Technically,” he agreed, his own eyes gleaming with equal humor as he held her gaze. “Strangers to lovers…that isn’t such a bad prospect, is it?”

  “No,” she said slowly, her heart pounding with expectation. His place or hers? She thought of the apartment she shared with her younger sister, and then balked. Maybe his…

  “There’s just one more thing, Miss King,” he said, trailing his finger down her cheek.

  Now what? He has a girlfriend? He lives with his mother and couldn’t take her home? Wendy was thinking of the most improbable things that could make spending the night with him impossible.

  “I have certain…tastes,” he told her softly. That finger was now slipping down her throat, to hook into the thin gold necklace around her neck. She drew in air as he tugged, causing the chain to bite slightly into her skin. “The things I want to do to you and with you…your Sunday school teacher would not approve.”

  Wendy couldn’t help laughing, and he smiled, looking pleased at the sound. “It’ll take more than that to scare me off, Mr. Pearce,” she assured him at last, looking up at him, grabbing hold of him tighter.

  “Great. So I guess once we get to my place, and when I break out the bondage gear, you’re not going to freak out?” he asked conversationally as he twisted, round and round the tiny chain in his finger till it was tight around her throat, giving a very erotic impression of choking.

  “Do I look like the type to freak out?” she asked, her tone equally light. She was looking straight into his blazing eyes. Could he tell how tightly her pussy was clenching right then? Maybe not. It was all she could do to hold in the drops seeping past her secret folds.

  “No,” he told her, unwinding and releasing the neck chain. “That’s why I picked you.”

  Once again, Wendy giggled. All of a sudden, she became aware of her surroundings again. The music, the people, had all faded to the background in the past few minutes.

  “And there I was thinking it was my beauty and grace that drew you,” she joked, letting him take her hand and lead her off the dance floor, heading straight for the exit.

  “Those too,” he returned. “And yet something tells me you’re a woman of many sides, Wendy. Sweet, yet spicy. I can’t wait to find out if I’m right.”

  Chapter Two

  Truth be told, Wendy wanted to find out the same thing herself. She wasn’t sure how serious he’d been about the “bondage gear” remark. She’d got into some rough sex in the past with her former lovers, but never anything extreme. Just what was Alan into and how much was she willi
ng to explore?

  Keep an open mind, she told herself, as she stepped out of his sleek Audi. She gave him a bright smile as once again, he took her hand and led her inside his palatial home.

  She already knew who he was, and that he was loaded. He owned a massively popular footwear brand, after all. She knew his rag to riches story, how he’d managed to make a success of himself despite having an abusive father and growing up without a dollar to his name. He was an inspiration to many, and though he tried to live away from the limelight, he still managed to get in the news for more than just his work.

  His women, for example. Gorgeous music video vixens, top models, actresses. He’d had them all. Suddenly, Wendy couldn’t help wondering how come she’d managed to snare such a catch.

  She wasn’t bad on the eye, certainly. She paid attention to her body, and looked good for her mid-twenties. She had respectable tits, not too large but firm. Her ass, she knew, would be considered her best feature, so her exes had told her. Round, firm, bouncy. Much like her breasts but in a slightly larger proportion. Something told her Alan wasn’t going to be too sorry about that.

  He didn’t waste much time. He offered her a drink, she declined. She needed her wits about her, she decided. She wanted to enjoy every minute without a cloud of alcohol hazing out the episode.

  “Come with me,” he said quietly. He linked his fingers with her, a very intimate and somehow calming gesture. She followed him eagerly.

  He weaved through corridors to a door, which he then opened. Wendy looked inside, and saw that it was a bedroom, just not like any bedroom she had ever seen before. There was a big bed with iron posts, but not much else. There was some kind of dresser next to it with a drawer, and there was a large ornate mirror just over the bed.

  She advanced into the room as he shut the door behind him. Turning around to face him, she swallowed. He came forward, placed his hands on her shoulders, and kissed her.

  It was a nice touch. The kiss was warm, passionate, sexy. All at once it put her at her ease to have this first physical contact with him. It also made her hornier than ever.

  When he pulled back, she was ready to melt in a puddle at his feet. She settled for waiting for his next move.

  “You’re going to obey my every command, without hesitation,” he said softly, backing away. “If you agree and understand, say “Yes Sir.””

  “Yes, Sir,” Wendy said immediately. Any other guy and she’d be rolling her eyes. But with him, in this room, it felt…right.

  “And you’ll address me as “Sir” as long as we remain in here. Can you remember to do that?”

  She started to nod, but then said firmly, “Yes Sir.”

  He smiled, approvingly and warmly. But then the smile disappeared and his face took on a somewhat predatory cast. She could feel his need for her from across the space between them. He wanted her as much as she wanted him, maybe even more. The thought made her inner muscles quiver.

  “Now, take off your clothes, slowly. I like a good strip tease.”

  Wendy gulped. The gleam in his eye as she reached for the straps of her dress was enough to make her feel like her clothes were on fire. Just with him watching her every move, she got wet. Seeing his gaze darken as she let the dress slip off her to the floor, had her almost panting. Stripping for him made her feel so sexy, desirable. She didn’t rush, reaching round her to unhook her bra which she shouldered off. He gazed at her breasts and instantly, her nipples hardened and twinged of their own accord.

  “Nice,” he said with husky approval. “Everything goes, Wendy. Especially the panties.”

  “Of course, Sir,” she said meekly, biting back a chortle. She hooked her fingers into the waist band of the matching black lace thong. Down it went. She kicked it to the side with the toe of her shoe.

  “The heels – leave them on. It’ll give a certain allowance for height when needed,” he said in a voice she couldn’t recognize. Now he was staring at her sex. Wendy was glad now she’d had that Brazilian only days ago. The soreness was gone and she was still smooth as satin. He looked like the kind of guy who liked it just so.

  She was right. “Very nice,” he said deeply. “Now I want you to go and face the bed – hands holding the bedpost.”

  “Yes Sir,” Wendy said, ever compliant. She didn’t mind being ordered around, she decided. Not in this context. It felt kind of hot, to be honest. Especially from a guy who reeked of sexual dominance. The take-charge element went well with his persona; she found it so easy to obey him. And yes, to trust him.

  That was why she didn’t demur when she heard him open the drawer as she stood waiting by the head of the bed as he instructed. Next, he came up close behind her, saying softly in her ear, “I’m going to cuff you to the bed, and then I will blindfold you. Only for a few minutes. If there’s anything you don’t like, then you can put a stop to it at once. We’ll use a safeword, if you like.”

  Okay. Sounds good. “Yes Sir,” was what she said. “What would you suggest, Sir?”

  He paused, then, “Since you seem to be new to this, we’ll keep it simple. We’ll use the traffic light signal. Red for stop, yellow and green for times when you want me to slow down or continue. Makes sense?”

  “Perfect sense, Sir,” she whispered. Gosh she so wanted him to fuck her now.

  He stroked the curves of her shoulder with his fingers for a moment, and then he proceeded to cuff her to the heavy bedpost, which she grasped. The cuffs were made of dark leather, and as she tugged experimentally they didn’t chafe her skin at all.

  Comfy.

  Then came the blindfold. He wrapped something like black satin around her eyes. Just like that, the scene changed, intensified. He tied the knot securely to the back of her head, and her breathing felt shallow. Oh boy, what had she gotten into now?

  She didn’t have time to ponder or start developing nerves. She heard a zipper slide down softly. And then something which sounded ominously like a condom being unwrapped reached her now overactive ears.

  Oh fuck.

  Just knowing that he was rolling on a condom made the juices froth in her pussy. She listened hard, waiting for the moment. Was he just going to ram straight into her, or…?

  He was.

  He gripped her by the hips, positioned himself behind her as his knees drew her legs farther apart. She felt his hand in the middle of her shoulder blades, pushing her forward, making her bend over. His other hand gripped her waist tightly. And with no further preamble, he thrust his cock deep inside her cunt.

  Wendy gasped, stiffening at the unexpectedly full invasion. His shaft felt thick and hard and quite immense and with force, he drove past her soft lips to settle snugly within her walls. She’d never have guessed he was this big. The powerful entry, the sensation of being torn in half, was somehow assuaged by the fact that she was already soaking wet. And he’d hardly even touched her.

  He paused for a few moments, just letting her pussy breathe around him. Then he drew out slowly, and Wendy’s muscles seemed to cling to him like suction. With his tip at her slit, he moved his hips and stroked her entrance, teasing her. Behind her blindfold, Wendy saw bright lights flash within her vision. Wendy sobbed with pleasure and sweet, breathless anticipation for his next thrust.

  Alan didn’t keep her waiting long. He thrust back inside with even more vigor. She cried out, the sound echoing in the room. She felt his groin against her ass and knew he was in to the hilt. Her pussy walls were screaming, purring. Damn he felt good inside her. She could also feel the fabric of his pants and knew he still had them on. The fact that he was still fully dressed while she was bound, blindfolded and naked, gave her even more of a sense of submission, of vulnerability. For some reason, it turned her on even more.

  With every thrust that followed, he pushed her forward again and again. There was that erotically obscene sound as he bumped into her ass with each shove. Even without the blindfold, she was blanking out. She could see or sense nothing other than that immense plank of
man meat pumping into her with a steady, head-spinning speed. He fucked her hard and fast, with barely a grunt passing his lips.

  She marveled at his self control and at the intensity of his thrusts. How long could he keep up this pace without exploding? Because she was already almost there. Yes, incredibly, she was close. It was a shock even to her how close she was. Just with his cock pounding her pussy, she felt ready to climax. Perhaps it was the depth and fullness, or maybe it was the sense of being used just for his pleasure. Maybe even the fact that she was helpless, unable to do anything with her being cuffed and blindfolded. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was the way her pussy fit perfectly around his cock and how good it felt when he hit those spots. He only had to angle his thrusts a certain way and she was moaning loudly.

  Any second now…

  Her hips had started to push back against him. Her moans had grown louder. Her inner walls pulsed around his shaft and somehow, he seemed alerted of her impending eruption. Instantly, he withdrew.

  Wendy let out a shocked gasp, her whole body shuddering. The unexpected voiding of her pussy almost brought tears to her covered eyes. Her hold on the bedpost to which she was cuffed tightened as the world behind her blindfold spun.

  She felt his hands slide up her body to her breasts. He cupped them, played with them. He tugged on her nipples and pulled till she squirmed, hungry for the touch of his body close to hers. “Stay still,” he said gruffly, and she instantly stopped moving. She didn’t want him to quit teasing her breasts. His hands felt so good, his fingers so knowing. Her nerve endings tingled from his touch as it grew rougher, more demanding. Somehow, this made up, just a little, for the sudden loss of his delicious cock. But she would need him again soon…

  Chapter Three

  “I already know you’re very tight and sweet,” he told her thickly. His lips were pressed close to her ear. He had her nipples in his fingers, pinching and pulling. She gasped at the blend of pleasure and agony.

  “But how supple are you?” he asked musingly.