My CEO's Blackmail Tape - Chapter 30: Chapter 30
You are reading My CEO's Blackmail Tape, Chapter 30: Chapter 30. Read more chapters of My CEO's Blackmail Tape.
Nathan Roscente's eyes flashed with surprise at my sudden boldness. In one fluid motion, he hoisted me onto the bathroom counter and stripped away my pants and panties. The chill of the air against my bare skin sent a shiver through me, my thighs instinctively pressing together as my pulse hammered in my throat. I stared at him, breathless, waiting.
His gaze turned dark, predatory. "Let's get you clean," he murmured, voice rough. "It'll be better for both of us."
He adjusted the showerhead, then guided me onto a chair. One hand parted my legs while the other directed the warm spray between them, his fingers moving in slow, deliberate circles.
Every inch of me burned under his touch.
This wasn't just any man washing me there—this was my ruthless boss, the one who held my secrets. My husband had never done this. Worse still, his touch was maddeningly gentle, his fingers occasionally dipping deeper, teasing. I bit my lip hard, stifling the moans clawing their way up my throat.
A draft ghosted over my skin. I turned my head—the door was cracked open.
"Close it," I rasped, my grip tightening on the railing. "Someone might see."
Nathan smirked up at me from where he knelt. "Wouldn't that make it hotter?" His thumb pressed just there, and I jerked. "Don't worry. The witness won't talk."
I could've pushed him away and shut the door myself, but my limbs were liquid, trembling. Every rational thought dissolved under his skilled hands.
The torment was unbearable. I wanted him to hurry, yet I craved this slow, torturous pleasure. A whimper escaped before I could stop it.
Finally, he turned off the water, patting me dry with a towel before lifting me back onto the counter. My legs hooked over his shoulders as he leaned in, his breath scorching against my skin.
I flushed crimson, clinging to the last shreds of my dignity—until his mouth was on me, licking, sucking, worshiping.
This wasn't like the rushed encounter in his office. Back then, fear and shame had dulled the pleasure. Now? I was clean. Safe. Free.
"Feels good, doesn't it?" he growled between strokes of his tongue. "You want more?"
My back arched as I palmed my own breasts, nails digging in. The sounds I made were foreign, desperate—like my soul had left my body to hover above, watching this raw, filthy bliss.
Nathan's tongue was lethal. Within minutes, he had me clawing at his hair, screaming as the climax tore through me. I forgot where we were. Forgot the unlocked door.
This was pleasure. This was ecstasy.
And I never wanted it to end.
His gaze turned dark, predatory. "Let's get you clean," he murmured, voice rough. "It'll be better for both of us."
He adjusted the showerhead, then guided me onto a chair. One hand parted my legs while the other directed the warm spray between them, his fingers moving in slow, deliberate circles.
Every inch of me burned under his touch.
This wasn't just any man washing me there—this was my ruthless boss, the one who held my secrets. My husband had never done this. Worse still, his touch was maddeningly gentle, his fingers occasionally dipping deeper, teasing. I bit my lip hard, stifling the moans clawing their way up my throat.
A draft ghosted over my skin. I turned my head—the door was cracked open.
"Close it," I rasped, my grip tightening on the railing. "Someone might see."
Nathan smirked up at me from where he knelt. "Wouldn't that make it hotter?" His thumb pressed just there, and I jerked. "Don't worry. The witness won't talk."
I could've pushed him away and shut the door myself, but my limbs were liquid, trembling. Every rational thought dissolved under his skilled hands.
The torment was unbearable. I wanted him to hurry, yet I craved this slow, torturous pleasure. A whimper escaped before I could stop it.
Finally, he turned off the water, patting me dry with a towel before lifting me back onto the counter. My legs hooked over his shoulders as he leaned in, his breath scorching against my skin.
I flushed crimson, clinging to the last shreds of my dignity—until his mouth was on me, licking, sucking, worshiping.
This wasn't like the rushed encounter in his office. Back then, fear and shame had dulled the pleasure. Now? I was clean. Safe. Free.
"Feels good, doesn't it?" he growled between strokes of his tongue. "You want more?"
My back arched as I palmed my own breasts, nails digging in. The sounds I made were foreign, desperate—like my soul had left my body to hover above, watching this raw, filthy bliss.
Nathan's tongue was lethal. Within minutes, he had me clawing at his hair, screaming as the climax tore through me. I forgot where we were. Forgot the unlocked door.
This was pleasure. This was ecstasy.
And I never wanted it to end.
End of My CEO's Blackmail Tape Chapter 30. Continue reading Chapter 31 or return to My CEO's Blackmail Tape book page.