Read Online The Naughty Corner by Jasmine Haynes - Free Book Online Page B

higher, twisting, turning, rolling. Inside her, the vibrator shimmied and shuddered over her G-spot.
    And always there was his voice in her ear. “You like this, don’t you, dirty girl, sweet filthy slut. You love touching yourself for me. You love seeing how beautiful you are in the mirror. Oh yeah, baby, fuck the vibrator, yes, fuck it for me.” His speech got dirtier the more she rocked on him, his cock hard and throbbing. She moved her hips, working him as she worked herself.
    Then she simply couldn’t watch anymore, couldn’t keep her eyes open. There was only sensation rocketing through her body. She panted, no words, just sharp little cries. Then, the explosion. Her eyes squeezed tightly shut, she curled over, bearing down on the climax.
    On her own, she would have pulled her hands away, the pleasure too great, but he rolled with her, holding her tight with his arm, working the vibrator inside her, until she tried to wriggle away from him, from the intensity.
    Finally, she lay curled in his lap, completely spent. She couldn’t move, couldn’t open her eyes. The solidity of his arms around her was the only thing holding her up. Otherwise she would have been boneless mush on the floor.
    “You called me a slut,” she said softly.
    His chuckle rumbled beneath her ear. “It’s a term of endearment.”
    Oddly, in his sexy voice, it had felt like an endearment, but she said, “You’re joking.” She couldn’t be bothered to raise her head.
    He stroked her hair. “A little dirty talk is sexy.”
    He was introducing her to a lot of firsts. Sexy, dirty talk. Touching herself for a man. Watching in the mirror. Giving him free rein with a vibrator. Other than spanking her, he hadn’t touched her up to this point, hadn’t kissed her, yet everything was utterly sensual. Intimate. Special.
    “It’s time for you to go now.”
    Now that was dumping the proverbial bucket of cold water on her.
    “Oh, okay.” She scrambled off his lap. Where were her panties? Then she remembered. They were in her purse along with her bra. She hesitated. Should she grab her purse and go to the bathroom? Should she put them on in front of him? Or should she just leave and stop somewhere along the way?
    She took one look at him sitting in the chair—all satisfied and smirking as if he’d had the orgasm—and knew she needed to get out as fast as possible. “Well, thanks, that was great,” she said, fumbling with the buttons of her sweater.
    “It was perfect,” he said.
    Perfect? She’d never been perfect. But if she was, then why was he kicking her out? Lola didn’t ask. She straightened her skirt, smoothed her sweater, adjusted her toes into her sandals.
    He set the vibrator back on the table amid all the other dirty little toys, and she realized he’d been holding it the whole time she’d cuddled on his lap after . . .
    Lola felt her cheeks burn, both sets. What they’d done didn’t embarrass her. His quick recovery did. Done, see ya later, good-bye. Like it meant nothing.
    “I’m sure I’ll see you after training on Tuesday,” he said.
    She hadn’t needed to interpret and analyze what a man really meant in a long time. Mike had been gone for ten years, and she was too old for that kind of adolescent ruminating. But really, what did Gray mean ?
    She absolutely would not ask. “Thanks”—which sounded odd under the circumstances—“talk to you later.” She almost ran for the door, but forced herself to move slowly, calmly.
    “I want your email address and your cell phone number.”
    His voice behind her stopped her dead before she hit the front entry tile. She turned. “What?”
    “Your punishment doesn’t simply end when I let you walk out the door. Sometimes you will need to be at my beck and call over email or on the phone.” His face was impassive, his tone neutral, his eyes dark, but there was a sense of command about his rigid stance. He’d have made a great dictator. “And no, I’m not joking,”