He Watches Me: The Seen Trilogy: Part One Read Online Free PDF Page A

so tight.” He says this as though it is a good thing. “How many fingers can you fit?” I add two more fingers, stretching me to the point of discomfort. Blaine shifts in his seat. His black dress pants are tented around an impressively huge erection.
    Blaine has a hard-on . . . for me, plain little Anna Sampson. “You’re fully dressed.” This can’t be comfortable, especially in this heat. Sweat is trickling down my spine and I’m shamelessly naked. “Do you want to . . .” I can’t say it. I can’t ask him to strip for me, to show me his cock.
    “No.” He chokes around the word. “I want to watch. Pump your tight little hole for me.”
    I obey him, masturbating in front of Blaine feeling natural. He isn’t judging me. He’s enjoying me. I stroke in, stroke out, passion winding around us, binding us together. He’s seen me, tasted me. I pant, my breasts heaving. I wish he’d touch me, put that severe mouth on my pussy, suck my clit instead of my fingers.
    “That’s it,” Blaine coaches, leaning forward once more. “Show me what you need, what gets you off.”
    Blaine watching me gets me off. I’m burning, lit by desire. I lift into my thrusts, delving deeper, reaching farther. My juices splatter on Blaine’s tanned cheeks, freckle the fabric of his dark suit, but he doesn’t seem to mind and I’m too gone to care. Everything inside me tightens, the friction pushing me to the edge, where I dangle, the limbo agonizing.
    “Blaine?” I ask his permission. This feels right and I don’t know why.
    “Come for me, Anna,” he demands, and I whimper, ready and willing to obey. “Tap your clit and scream my name.”
    I slap my palm against that bundle of nerves, drive my hips forward, toward him, and plummet into the abyss. “Blaine!” I shriek as I fall, reaching for him, trying to grab him, anything to secure me to this world.
    My fingers close on air, his broad shoulders beyond my grasp. I scream his name again, this time with agony and fury, his desertion cutting me, angering me. I’m alone in my pleasure, my satisfaction, and I fold my body in two, gripping my shaking thighs. I close my eyes as tears stream down my cheeks.
    “Beautiful,” he murmurs. I raise my head and glare at him. “I vowed not to touch you.”
    He did but this reminder doesn’t make me feel better. Shouldn’t a man in the midst of passion forget his vows? I forgot all of mine.
    Blaine withdraws a cigar and a set of matches from his inside jacket pocket. “Have you ever had anything other than your fingers in your pussy?” A flame flares and he puffs on the cigar, the smoke partially masking my musk.
    “No.” I wrinkle my nose. “Smoking is a very bad habit,” I snip, his abandonment not forgotten.
    Blaine draws on the cigar and leisurely exhales. “I have more than one bad habit.” Is he talking about me? I narrow my eyes at him and he chuckles. “Ask your question.”
    My question. I blink. What is my question? I frown and his grin widens, my blasted billionaire. Billionaire. I remember and I wish I hadn’t. I lower my legs, my tension returning.
    “Ahhh . . . ummm . . . I work for a charity—Feed Your Hungry.” There, I can truthfully tell Boss man I mentioned it.
    Blaine sucks on his cigar. Light reflects off the moisture on his cheeks, my pussy juices staining his skin. Although he is impeccably dressed and I suspect a bit anal retentive about his appearance, he makes no attempt to remove the specks.
    He watched me. He tasted me. He smells of me. I shift in my chair. He’s mine.
    “Why do you work at Feed Your Hungry?” Blaine taps his cigar against the ashtray, the gray ashes falling on the red terra-cotta. “Is it to atone for what your father did?”
    Terror courses down my spine and I straighten in my seat. “You know.”
    “Not enough,” he says.
    I search his face, seeing no judgment. Has he known from the beginning? I can’t imagine Blaine allowing someone on his property without