Praise (Salacious Players Club, #1)

by Sara Cate

RULE #24: WORK IS SO MUCH MORE ENJOYABLE WHEN YOU’RE FUCKING YOUR HOT BOSS.

How is this happening? And how am I so fucking happy?

Because now I only see him as mine. My…something, I don’t know. More than my boss, but not just my lover. My Sir.

Our thirst has been quenched, but our appetite has not been totally fulfilled.

And the entire time his body moves in languid, sensual strokes, our lips are locked and our hearts are beating in unison.

I couldn’t tell you what color or size the shirt is because my attention is laser focused on Emerson Grant’s naked bum.

“Such a good girl,” he murmurs, and I breathe it in. Those words are a serotonin boost for my soul. They tell me I’m safe, adored, valued, and have nothing at all in the world to worry about.

“I’m having trouble getting anything done today, Charlotte. You’re distracting me and all I can think about is how beautiful that pussy between your legs is.”

“Look what you do to me, Charlotte,” he growls, sounding like a man come undone. “Sitting over there in these slutty panties. You do it on purpose, don’t you?” “Yes, Sir,”

“You want me to fuck you over my desk like a little slut?” His voice is strained, and I know he’s getting close. I feel so dirty, loving the way his degradation makes me feel. “Yes, Sir,” I nearly yell from the torrent of sensation coursing through my body. “You are a dirty little slut, aren’t you?” he growls. “Yes, Sir!” “This is what you get for tempting me. Tell me you’re sorry, Charlotte.” His thrusts grow even more rough and wild, sending me into a tailspin as I come, and I swear my feet leave the ground. My body seizes, my pussy throbbing around his cock. “I’m sorry, Sir,” I cry in a breathless moan.

And I really should have learned my lesson by now when it comes to hoping. It always ends in disappointment.

“Don’t you think I’m a little old for a piñata?” Sophie asks, while I’m standing on a ladder in the middle of the skating rink. “Ummm…I’m six years older than you and I’m gonna whack the fuck out of this thing and enjoy every second of it.”

I need you to come in immediately. I quickly type out a reply. Why? What’s wrong? I miss you.

I hate him because, at the end of the day, I can’t keep him.

His lips are merciless and demanding, devouring my mouth and barely leaving me without enough air to breathe. Oh well, I don’t need to breathe. I just need him.

“I don’t understand how people can be so bad at love. How could he hurt his own kids because of his own selfish ignorance? How can you claim to love someone and hurt them so badly?”

“I’m a mess,” I argue. “Look at where I live. I’m clumsy and forgetful and messy…” His lips press against mine as he mumbles, “You’re perfect.”

“I’m going to make you forget every bad thing you’ve ever said about yourself. And if I catch you saying anything self-deprecating, you’ll be punished. Understand?”

“You like that?” he mutters against my skin. “Uh-huh.” “Want me to do it again?” “Yes, please.” I sigh.

“Charlotte, listen to me. You are a smart, beautiful, confident woman. You don’t need me to tell you what you want. I want to hear it from you. You deserve pleasure just as much as I do, and trust me, I want nothing more than to hear you utter the dirtiest words, and then I want to do whatever it is you say. So say it.”

“I want to watch you touch yourself.”

“Stroke your cock for me.” “Not bad, but I think you can do a little better than that.” His voice gives me confidence, so I grind my hips upward as I say, “I want to watch you fuck your fist until you come all over my chest.” His face is only inches from mine, and his eyes widen when my words come out. Jesus, I can’t believe I just said that. “Fuck, that was hot.”

“Faster,” I whisper in a breathy plea. He picks up his pace, and I watch his mouth fall open as he does, his eyes hooded with lust. “Touch yourself,”

“Fuck yourself,” he says, and his fist jerks faster. As I sink two fingers deep inside me, we groan in unison. Then, I begin to pump in sync with him. “I want to come all over you, Charlotte.”

“Do it, Emerson,” I cry out. “Come all over me.”

“Fuck, that was incredible. You are incredible,” he pants against my lips.

“What are you thinking?” I whisper again as my eyes get heavy and he pulls me closer. I nuzzle into the comfort of his broad chest and heavy arms as he presses his lips against my ear. Maybe I’m already dreaming because I can’t believe the answer that comes out of his mouth. “I was thinking that I don’t deserve you.”

“I should make you wait.” I growl, standing up and pulling her hips back, lining up the head of my dick with her wet pussy lips. She groans loudly into the satin sheets. “But I want you leaking my cum in your panties while you’re on stage.”

This pussy was molded for my cock, swallowing me up so eagerly like it’s putting a fucking spell on me. Making me never want another pussy again, which I don’t.

“I wish I was fucking you every minute of my day, you know that?” “Yes.” “I love fucking you, Charlotte. You take my cock so well.” “I love it,” she cries.

“I want your pussy to be sore when you’re up there. I want you thinking about this.” “Faster, Emerson. I’m going to come.” She moans in a high-pitched plea. God, I love that she asks for what she wants during sex now.

RULE #28: WHEN HE TELLS YOU YOU’RE WORTH IT, BELIEVE IT.

“You cost me so much money because you are worth it, Charlotte. I put you on that stage, hoping you would see that for yourself, but I could tell as I watched you up there that you still wouldn’t believe it.”

“Because you are mine, Charlotte. And I don’t appreciate when anyone talks badly about something that is mine. Do you think I have bad taste?”

“I wish you could see what I see,” he mutters, and I feel his weight on the bed next to me, “and I hate to punish you for always talking so badly about yourself, but I’m not going to lie, Charlotte. I’m going to enjoy this.”

“I wish you could see how beautiful you are right now. You are perfection,

“Do you want me to fuck you, baby girl?” “Yes,” I cry out. “Tell me you’re worth it. Tell me how beautiful you are.”

When I try to shake my head, he stops me. “Say it. Say you’re wrong.” “I’m wrong,” I whisper. “Louder,” he bellows. “I’m wrong. “Louder!” “I’m wrong!” I cry out, tears trailing down the sides of my face and landing in my hair.

“I’m addicted to you,” he groans while fucking me. “You were made for me, Charlotte. You’re mine, and I never want to let you go. Do you understand me? I’d fuck you forever if I could.”

“I wish you could,” I cry. Looking up into his eyes, I whisper, “I was made for you.” The expression on his face seems momentarily surprised by my admission.

He gazes slowly up at me, his hands still on my ankle. “You think because I’m the Dominant that I can’t take care of you?” “Sort of,” I reply with a shrug. “But you’re mine to take care of, Charlotte.” He lifts my foot to his knees as he lathers soap bubbles under my arch and between my toes. “This relationship is a give and take, not a one-way street. Not to mention, when we are not in that Dom/sub mode, I don’t want you to submit to me. I want you to let me worship you and…”

“You’re mine to take care of too, Emerson,” I whisper as I drag the washcloth down his legs.

“I should be the one taking care of you,” he says, without pulling me to my feet. “Well, maybe I want to spoil you,” I say in a light, almost joking manner. “Maybe I want to make you so dependent on me that you never want to leave me. I want to be so good for you that you keep me forever.”

“That’s my girl,” he groans, and I light up inside.

“Are you gonna swallow me down, Charlotte? You gonna take my cum like the dirty girl you are? My dirty girl.”

This is my Emerson, and I want it all. I love everything about him.

“Just when I think you can’t get any more fucking fantastic, you do. You keep surprising me, Charlotte. And not just with sex. You are so perfect for me, and I do want to keep you forever.”

Watching her, I realize…I love her. If this isn’t what love feels like, then it must not exist.

“I want to come inside you. I want you to take it,” I groan. “Give it to me.”

“Was I a good girl?” she whispers with her mouth inches from mine. A smile creeps across my face as I gather her into my arms. “You’re always a good girl.”