I could have soaked in that glorious tub for hours. Oliver was right about me being exhausted. At one point, I actually dozed off, waking only when I heard someone enter the guest room. Suddenly alert, I held my breath and hoped it was Oliver returning. But no one knocked at the closed bathroom door, and silence fell again. I figured Damien had brought dinner and then promptly departed.

Hunger coaxed me out of the tub. I quickly dried off and slipped into a fluffy robe, and when I returned to the bedroom, I found a tray waiting for me on the table. I also saw my purse resting next to it. On the bed, the toiletries I would need were neatly placed in a row, along with a roomy cotton T-shirt for me to sleep in. I had to smile as I wondered whom the shirt belonged to. Holding it up before me, I thought it looked brand new. "Damien really is indispensable!" I said to myself. I could only hope he would become something like a friend to me as time went on.

Turning my attention to my purse, I rummaged through it and found all my belongings there. Of course, I hadn't really expected the guards to confiscate anything, but I was a little anxious that they might hold onto my phone. Peering at its screen, I discovered my father had called over a dozen times. A painful knot formed in my stomach at the thought of talking to him. But along with that dread was a surge of anger. If Oliver was to be believed, Dad had chosen some shady woman over me. And I realized I did believe Oliver. The fact that my father had dragged me into the middle of all this in order to save his own skin revealed volumes about his character.

I decided to eat dinner before calling him. The meal consisted of chicken salad on a croissant, along with a side salad, and a custard tart for dessert. I practically inhaled the food, wolfing it down in an effort to ease both my hunger and my nerves. As I moaned from how delicious it was, I gave a silent thanks to Damien for keeping the late dinner simple, for I doubted I could have handled a rich, heavy meal.

Once I'd eaten every bite and gulped down another glass of water, I retrieved my phone and headed out onto the balcony. Only the faintest trace of light remained in the sky above the hills; darkness would fall within minutes. I was glad for the shadows. Somehow, they made it easier to call my father. Still bundled up in the robe, I sank onto a chair. The warm night breeze caressed my face.

Dad immediately answered the call, giving me no time to speak before barking, "Dreama, what the hell is going on?"

I knew better than to show weakness at this point. Keeping my voice low and steady, I told him, "I did what you asked me to. And now I'm staying here."

"Like hell you are!" His booming voice made me pull the phone away from my ear. "I send you on one errand, and now I'm being told that I have to clear out of my own house tomorrow so you can come and get your things! Are you out of your damn mind?"

Agitated, I jumped up and started pacing the balcony. Its floor was cool beneath my bare feet. "You sent me because you were too afraid to show up here yourself! How do you think I felt? I was terrified!" I hated the way my voice quavered. Stay calm, Dreama, I told myself. Don't lose your shit. "You're supposed to protect me," I went on, my tone icy.

"Oh, for God's sake, I knew he wouldn't hurt you!"

"I sure as hell didn't!" I shot back.

Dad's impatient sigh was audible. "Dreama, you need to come home. That man is my age! Don't you see what he's trying to do? He's pissed about the money I owed him—"

A bitter laugh escaped me. "Oh yes, the money you owed because your girlfriend didn't repay her loan!" I waited for my father to reply, but he was utterly silent. "I know all about it, Dad."

"That doesn't concern you. None of this does!" Dad was breathing faster; I could easily imagine him trying to control his fury. "You need to realize that you're just a pawn to Oliver. He's using you to get back at me. It's his sick way of exacting revenge!"

Those words stung like a slap, but I refused to let my father manipulate me. He was the one with all the secrets, the one who'd made me a virtual prisoner in our home. "You know what I think is sick?" My voice dripped with venom. "What you made me do today. You threw me into the lion's den! Turns out, I'm safer with the lion than with you."

"You ungrateful little cunt!" my father shouted.

A tear spilled down my cheek, and I hurried to wipe it away. Taking a deep breath, I managed to steady myself. "Don't you dare talk to me that way!" I growled. "I'm the only reason you don't have broken bones right now. But just remember, Dad, I can always change my mind about that."

Before he could say another word, I ended the call. Though I wanted to throw my head back and scream at the sky in rage, and in grief for having lost the last member of my family, I also felt a heaviness lift from my shoulders. I could breathe easier now that I was free of my father.

Soon after I stepped back inside the bedroom, I heard a gentle knock on the door. "Come in," I called, pasting a bright smile on my face.

Damien entered the room, his own smile warm and genuine. "Just came to make sure you have everything you need, Dreama."

Despite my inner turmoil following the argument with my father, I couldn't help but feel more relaxed in Damien's presence. "I do, thank you so much. And dinner was delicious."

Before gathering up the dinner tray, Damien showed me how to use the high-tech intercom system. I hadn't even noticed the panel on the wall. "This way, you can instantly reach me if you need anything at all," he said. "And this is how you can contact Oliver, and also Ted." I watched closely, then nodded that I understood. "That's all there is to it," he concluded cheerfully. "Oliver mentioned you'll be staying with us, so I want you to feel comfortable here, okay?"

Without thinking, I reached for Damien's hand. At first, he seemed surprised by the gesture, but his smile quickly widened. It was as if he intuited my hopes and uncertainties, for he winked and said, "I think you and I will be great friends."

It was then that Oliver appeared in the doorway. He grinned at the sight of me and Damien. "Glad you two are getting to know each other better."

Instead of releasing my hand, Damien gave it a gentle pat. "Just making sure Dreama feels at home."

I thanked him again, and he offered another smile before carrying the tray out of the room.

Oliver closed the door behind him, then turned to me. "How was your bath?"

"Heavenly," I responded.

"And dinner?"

"Absolutely delicious."

"Wonderful." Closing the distance between us, Oliver held out his hand. "And now I'll need your phone."

"What?" I squawked. "Why?"

"I'll provide you with a far more secure one," he said. "What you have now is a piece of shit."

He wasn't wrong about that. And it wasn't as if I was glued to my phone like most other people. I'd mainly used it to let my father know where I was at practically all times.

No need for that now.

Striding toward the table, I grabbed my phone and took it back to Oliver. 

"Thank you," he said, slipping it into his pocket. "And one more thing." Again, that deceptively mild tone. "You should be careful in your phone conversations, Dreama. You never know who might be listening."

My cry of shock emerged as a pitiful squeak. "You heard what I said to my father earlier."

"I did," Oliver replied. "I'm quite impressed by the way you handled yourself."

"So you're spying on me? Is there a fucking camera in this room?"

Oliver merely smiled at my indignation. "You made that call outdoors. The exterior of this property is heavily surveilled for security reasons." I noticed he didn't answer my question about the camera. Instead, he added, "Trust, like loyalty, must be earned."

I felt utterly foolish, which made me lash out even more. "Not even my father surveilled me!"

When Oliver stepped closer, I forced myself not to retreat. "Don't pout," he said, his voice surprisingly gentle. "You don't expect me to let you immediately run free around here with no monitoring whatsoever, do you?" Taking hold of the belt that held my robe closed, he gave it an insistent tug.

I gasped as the robe fell open. The sight of my naked body made Oliver's stare grow hot. His hands were greedy in fondling my breasts, and I couldn't hold back a moan. My nipples immediately hardened from his touch.

Oliver gave me a deep kiss, his tongue meeting mine. Slipping a hand between my thighs, he teased my clit with a fingertip. Then he whispered, "I'm glad you're enjoying the lion's den."

I shivered at his words, fully expecting him to fuck me again. But he only stroked my cheek. All the while, he regarded me with something like fondness. "Get some rest," he said. "You'll have a busy day tomorrow."

Moments later, I was alone. 

*****

Almost as soon as my head hit the pillow, I fell into a sound sleep, not waking until after nine the following morning. I wasn't used to sleeping in, for my father usually woke me early so I could make his breakfast. Bright sunlight now spilled into the room. I peered around with bleary eyes while getting my bearings.

Once I realized where I was, I hurried out of bed. It didn't take me long to get ready, and after I'd run a brush through my tangled hair, I put on my tank top and shorts. I'd gotten my panties so wet yesterday that they'd need to be washed before I wore them again. It felt more than a little weird to walk around with no underwear, but I didn't have a choice.

I spent several minutes making the bed and neatly arranging my few belongings; I didn't want Oliver or Damien thinking I was a slob. Then, I tentatively opened the bedroom door and peeked outside.

A guard started down the hall toward me. Had he been stationed nearby, simply waiting for me to come out of the room? This guy was younger than Ted, and his expression wasn't as stern. With dark hair and eyes, he was quite good-looking in a beefy, hugely muscular way.

"Good morning," he greeted me. "I'll take you to the dining room for breakfast."

"Thank you," I murmured, falling prey to my shyness again. "Is Oliver here?"

"He's in his office."

I followed the guard down to the main level and into an enormous dining room. The table could seat well over twenty people. I felt mildly ridiculous sitting all alone, but after the guard left me, Damien soon appeared. He was his usual cheery self, wishing me a good morning and asking if Eggs Benedict was okay for my breakfast.

I had no idea what Eggs Benedict was, but I immediately responded, "That sounds fantastic! Thank you."

It turned out that I loved Eggs Benedict, as well as the freshly squeezed juice Damien served me. When I was finished, I offered to help clean up, but he shook his head firmly.

"That's my job, and I'm happy to do it. Now, let me show you where Oliver's office is." 

Simply knowing I was about to see him again made my pulse quicken. After all we'd shared yesterday, the man could still affect me as powerfully as he did when we'd first met.

Like everything else in this house, Oliver's office was enormous. Its windows offered a picturesque view of his property. He was sitting at his desk, but when Damien and I entered the room, he quickly rose to his feet.

Again, he played the perfect host, asking if I'd slept well and if I needed anything. It was only after Damien left, closing the door behind him, that Oliver's smile grew sly. "Come here," he said.

I slowly approached, coming to a stop in front of his desk.

"Come here," he repeated, a little more insistently this time.

Swallowing hard, I circled around the desk to stand at his side.

His kiss was tender, and the feel of his fingers weaving through my hair instantly put me at ease. But my eyes widened when he suddenly lifted me off my feet and sat me on the edge of his desk. "Today," he said, "one of my men will drive you to your house. Your father won't be there, so you can take your time getting your things."

"That's a long drive," I pointed out. "I'm sure your men have better things to do than chauffeur me around." Even as I protested the plan, I was secretly glad someone would be with me. My father might not stay away if he figured out I was alone at the house.

"The matter's already settled," Oliver told me.

I ducked my head, trying to hide my smile. I wasn't used to someone looking after me. "I'm going to need some of my money to buy new clothes." My face burned with fresh embarrassment. "Nothing I own right now is appropriate to wear around here."

"Alright." Oliver's voice was gentle. "I'll have someone drive you into the city. Damien can recommend some shops that you might like."

I snapped my head up at the mention of Damien. "Can he go with me?" I blurted out. "I've been to the city only a few times in my entire life. I won't know where anything is, and honestly, I have no idea what kind of clothes I should buy."

Oliver rested a hand on my thigh, his touch as warm as his smile. "Of course, sweetheart."

"But only if Damien won't mind. I don't want him to feel like he's babysitting me."

Oliver laughed at that. "Are you kidding? Damien will be thrilled to take a day off to go shopping."

Another worry gnawed at me. "Will I raise suspicions by paying for everything in cash?"

"Here's an idea." His hand moved a little farther up my thigh. "How about you consider today a gift from me? I'll pay for everything."

"No way!" My vehement tone made Oliver raise his eyebrows. "I mean, I really appreciate it, but you're already letting me live in this beautiful house, and I'm being waited on hand and foot. I won't take anything else from you."

"My God, you're stubborn!" he sighed. "But fine. Damien will pay with a card, and I'll deduct the total from your account. Happy?"

"Very," I answered with a sweet smile.

"Good. Because I want you happy, Dreama." When he lowered his lips to my neck, I let my head fall back, welcoming his kiss. Soon, his hands were everywhere: beneath my tank top so he could cup my breasts, and then inside my shorts. "No panties?" he asked, feigning surprise.

"They're dirty, and you're the reason for that. You got me dripping wet yesterday!"

Oliver's touch grew more demanding as he tugged at my shorts. "Yeah? Well, I want you dripping right now, because I'm dying to taste your pussy."

I actually moaned at those words. It felt like my entire body responded with a fierce throb. Even as I weakly said, "We can't do this here," I planted my palms against the desk and lifted myself up a little. Oliver easily stripped me from the waist down. I was breathing fast and already wet, just the way he wanted me, but my stare was fixed on the window. What if someone saw us?

Oliver seemed completely unfazed by that possibility. Once my bare ass was on his desk, he sank into his chair and moved it before me, positioning himself between my open legs. I draped a leg over his shoulder, keeping myself spread wide. It felt wicked to do this in his office, but I couldn't deny the thrill it gave me.

The moment Oliver leaned forward and began nuzzling my outer labia, I let out a soft cry. He licked and teased, his breath warm against my skin. I was close to begging by the time he drew my inner folds between his lips. Gazing downward, I eagerly watched him feast on my pussy. Soon, he had me trembling with need.

Now, I did shamelessly beg. "Lick my clit, please!"

As Oliver readily did what I asked, I ran my fingers through his hair. His talented tongue made my muscles slacken; I felt like I could melt into a blissful puddle on that desk. And I was certainly wet enough! All the while, I couldn't believe this powerful man was happy to spend part of his morning eating me out.

"You've already got me so close!" I lewdly rocked my hips, which made Oliver even more fervent in pleasuring me. As my grasp on his hair tightened, I sensed his satisfaction at again making me lose control.

Just as I was about to surrender to the bliss his mouth relentlessly delivered, I glimpsed a guard strolling past the window. Startled, I let out a shriek, but Oliver merely took it for one of my myriad horny vocalizations.

The guard continued on his way, disappearing from view. I told myself he hadn't seen us, but the way he'd immediately snapped his head forward after looking in our direction made me fear otherwise.

"There was a guard outside just now!" I told Oliver.

He lifted his head and smiled. The lower half of his face was covered in my juices. "That's a common occurrence around here, Dreama."

"I think he saw us!" Even as alarm sharpened my tone, my swollen clit pulsed. Fuck, I really needed to come!

"So what if he did?" Oliver shrugged while keeping my legs spread apart. "All he would see is my face buried between your thighs."

"But what we're doing is private!"

He raised an eyebrow. "Do you want me to stop?"

I hesitated, overwhelmed by both shame and arousal. "No," I finally said.

Grinning in triumph, Oliver resumed giving his tongue a workout. The pleasure became so intense that I couldn't resist adding to it by pinching and tugging my nipples. My cries grew dangerously loud, but I no longer had the will to care.

Moments later, I came so hard that my breath caught in my lungs and my thighs clamped around Oliver. Yet he didn't stop until I squirmed in his grasp. "Oh my God, I can't... No more!"

Feeling weak-kneed, I watched as he climbed to his feet. We shared a kiss before he retrieved my shorts and helped me back into them. "You need to wash your face," I told him. "You smell like my pussy."

"But I fucking love the smell of your pussy." Oliver's grin made it clear that he had no intention of washing up.

A knock sounded at the door, and as Oliver went to open it, I quickly straightened my top. The same guard who had escorted me downstairs this morning now stood outside the office.

"Beckett," Oliver said, "tell Damien I'd like him to go with you and Dreama into the city. She needs to do some shopping before you drive her back to her house."

"Of course, sir."

When Oliver and I were alone again, I hurried to smooth down his hair, which my fingers had tousled earlier. "Look at you," he murmured through a smile, "being indispensable to me."

And with a final kiss, he sent me off.

*****

As Damien and I sat in the back of a luxury SUV, it didn't take long for me to figure out that there was something going on between him and Beckett. Of course, Damien acted as friendly to me as always, chatting about his favorite shops in the city. Beckett's interest in me was strictly professional, and he did a pretty good job of hiding his fondness for Damien. But when he stopped for a red light and their gazes met in the rearview mirror, I sensed an entire unspoken conversation take place between them. I had to hide my smile as I looked out the window. It was nice to know I wasn't the only one under the sway of infatuation.

It was only a short drive into the city. I wasn't used to all the bustle and traffic, which made my hometown seem utterly dull in comparison. When we arrived at the first boutique, I dreaded getting out of the vehicle. Damien was the epitome of style even while dressed casually, and Beckett wore a nice suit, the coat of which concealed his shoulder holster. But my clothes were hideous.

Damien went out of his way to put me at ease, and I fixed a smile on my face while walking into the shop with him. A beautiful saleslady enthusiastically waved and rushed over as soon as she saw Damien; they obviously knew each other. During their animated conversation, I glanced at the price tag on a gorgeous blouse. Thankfully, my shocked gasp wasn't audible.

The second the saleslady and Damien paused to take a breath, I made my expression as apologetic as possible. "I'm so sorry, but I need to go," I told them. "Damien, take your time looking around."

Back in the SUV, I slumped against the seat, and Beckett was nice enough not to comment on my hasty return. A few minutes later, Damien rejoined us. Holding out a slender apparel box to Beckett, he said, "I bought you a tie."

Beckett looked both surprised and pleased. "Why, thank you, Damien."

Turning to me, Damien mouthed, "What's wrong?"

"Those prices!" I whispered. "I can't spend that on clothes. The money I have needs to last a long time."

I discerned his look of subtle understanding. After all, he hadn't always lived in luxury. "No problem, Dreama," he said softly. "We'll go somewhere else."

The next place he recommended was far more to my liking. While the merchandise was expensive, it wasn't insultingly so, and as late morning stretched into afternoon, Damien proved to be a godsend. Every time I needed advice on what to buy, he was quick with suggestions. Along with practical clothing, such as blouses, slacks, and pencil skirts, I was tempted by a peach cocktail dress.

"Beautiful!" Damien exclaimed when I tried it on.

I selected a few more casual dresses, along with kitten heels in several colors. "Once you get used to those," he said, "we'll shop for a pair of stilettos."

I couldn't imagine myself tottering around in stilettos. Still, I smiled and nodded. Damien also helped me pick out a bikini for the pool. I would have been shy about modeling it for anyone else, but he made over me like I was a supermodel.

While choosing far sexier underwear than what I currently owned, I tried to imagine what Oliver would like. Not even my shyness could stop me from seeking Damien's advice about lingerie. "Do you think a certain older, powerful man would find this sexy?" I asked, holding up a sky-blue babydoll nightie.

"He'll love it," Damien replied with a grin.

I bought thigh-high stockings, along with numerous bra and panty sets in various shades. They left little to the imagination, but the bras worked a miracle by enhancing my minimal cleavage.

Finally, Damien had Beckett take us to one last shop so that I could buy cosmetics. "You have such gorgeous skin; you won't need much," Damien told me. "We'll find the perfect lipstick for you, along with some liner and shadow to emphasize your beautiful eyes."

By the time we were finished, I was exhausted and suffering from mild sticker shock. Damien must have sensed my unease at blowing so much money at once, for he patted my shoulder and said, "A nice wardrobe is a sound investment."

I was wearing a new sundress and strappy sandals, and even stoic Beckett complimented me on my outfit. To end our day in the city, Damien insisted on treating us to a meal at a fancy restaurant he loved. I'd never heard of many of the items on the menu, so I let Damien order for me. As the three of us ate, Beckett monitored our surroundings but also managed to give Damien a few lingering stares.

"Thank you so much for that wonderful meal," I told Damien when we left the restaurant, "and also for coming today. I don't know what I would have done without you."

"It was my pleasure!" he said to me, but his gaze was fixed on Beckett.

Before allowing us to get back into the SUV, Beckett thoroughly investigated the vehicle, even going so far as to look underneath it. When I shot a puzzled glance at Damien, his smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "You'll get used to it," was all he said.

Though I didn't ask why we needed to be so careful, I wondered if something had happened in the past to make such vigilance necessary.

Beckett dropped Damien off at Oliver's house, since there was no need for him to make the trip with us to my hometown. "Are you sure you'll be okay?" Damien asked before getting out. "I'm happy to go with you, and Oliver won't mind."

"I'll be fine," I promised.

Beckett and I waited for Damien and a couple of guards to haul all of my purchases out of the SUV. Then we started toward my house. A jolt went through me when I realized this would be my final time going back there. Staring out the window, I watched my surroundings gradually become more familiar. All the while, I was glad Beckett didn't try to make small talk.

As promised, my father wasn't at the house when we arrived. Using my key, I unlocked the front door, and Beckett accompanied me inside. He insisted on doing a sweep of the place, which seemed completely unnecessary, but I didn't argue. Once he was finished, I retrieved my suitcase from the closet and gathered the few belongings I wanted to take. Most of my clothes would be left behind, but I chose a few sentimental items, along with important documents and papers I'd need later.

Beckett allowed me to pause and look back at the house one last time before we left. My father, who had been heartbroken over my mother's desertion, and who wanted to keep me here with him at all costs, would now be left completely alone.

Beckett insisted on carrying my suitcase, making no comment about how little it contained. Instead, he suggested that I sit up front with him and choose something to listen to on the radio. That simple act of kindness made me blink back tears.

It was dark by the time we reached Oliver's house. "I'll take your suitcase up to your room," Beckett told me.

"Thank you so much. And I promise I won't be this much trouble in the future."

Offering a smile, he said, "I was happy to escort you today, Dreama."

Damien greeted us as soon as we stepped inside. "Everything okay?" he asked gently.

I quickly nodded. After declining his offer to prepare dinner for me, I asked if I could see Oliver.

"Of course," Damien said. "He's still in his office. Would you like me to take you to him?"

"I think I can find him on my own," I responded with a grin. Then I gave him a hug. "You really are a wonderful friend, Damien."

He readily hugged me back while whispering, "A certain older, powerful man is going to love you in that dress."

I was glad to find Oliver's office door open. When he looked up at me, his gaze filled with desire. "You're absolutely beautiful, Dreama!"

Beaming at his words, I hurried to close the door. Oliver didn't need to tell me to come to him, for I was already on my way. When I reached his chair, he drew me into his lap.

"How was today?" he asked as I nestled against him. "Do you have everything you need?"

"Yes. Damien and Beckett were both so kind and helpful."

Oliver chuckled. "I'm glad they behaved themselves."

Pretending to be oblivious, I asked, "What do you mean?"

"Oh, come on. Don't tell me you didn't notice the longing looks and subtle innuendos. Ted is less than thrilled about their relationship, but they don't let it distract them from their work, so I have no issue with it."

"I didn't realize they're in a relationship," I lied. "But I think they make a wonderful couple. They deserve to be happy."

"And so do you," Oliver whispered.

The kiss I gave him quickly deepened, and as our hunger intensified, he slipped a hand beneath my dress. Circling my fingers around his wrist, I flashed a sly smile. "I think I know what would make you happy right now."

Oliver's stare took on that now-familiar heat. "Oh, and what's that?"

In reply, I slid off his lap and onto the floor. As gracefully as I could, I moved under his desk, where I was mostly hidden from view. Amused at first, his expression quickly morphed into one of hot lust when I began unfastening his pants. "Ah yes, that will make me very happy!" he murmured.

Freeing his dick, which was already hardening, I stroked his length. "This would make a good job for me," I told him with a playful wink. "I could stay right here under your desk, sucking you off while you're busy with work."

Oliver laughed low and soft. "I'd never get anything done!" His anticipation was almost palpable, and I felt an intoxicating rush from my power to excite him like this.

With shameless enthusiasm, I licked and kissed his cock while eagerly breathing in his scent. Recalling his gentle instructions from the evening before, I was determined to show him what a good student I was. As I teased his frenulum with my tongue, I also focused on his balls, cupping them in my palm. His quickened breaths and faint groans served to make me wet, and I realized he had succeeded in teaching me another important lesson: it was just as arousing to give pleasure as it was to receive it.

I loved the weight of his hand on my head. More than that, I loved the way I felt both slutty and adored in his presence.

Oliver leaned back in the chair, fully surrendering to me. "Fuck yes, suck my cock, sweetheart!"

My head bobbed up and down as I worked to take him deep. Soon, I had his precum flowing, and my saliva coated his shaft. Relaxing my muscles, I allowed him farther into my mouth than I ever imagined possible. In that moment, it was like I entered a kind of trance. No longer did I panic at my airway being blocked; I didn't resist the pressure of his dick, which made my tender throat raw. Instead, I let him possess me and lay full claim to my mouth.

When I finally had to pull off, we were both breathing hard. Oliver regarded me with a rapt expression; gone was the naïve young woman he'd taken to bed last night, and in her place was a little slut, wild for his dick.

Again, I took him in my mouth, devoting all my effort to making him come. I knew he was close; by this point, I could read the signals his body gave me. But before I could bring him to orgasm, there was a knock on the door.

I froze, my lips still circled around Oliver's dick. I expected him to tell his visitor to return later, or at least tell me to stop. Instead, he called, "Come in."

When I started to lift my head, he held me firmly in place, and I understood he wanted me to continue.

"Sir, you have a guest in the conference room," I heard Ted say. "He apologizes for the late hour, but he claims an urgent matter has come up which can't wait until your scheduled appointment tomorrow morning."

Even as my face burned with shame, my arousal grew. Ted was the eyes and ears of this place; he knew exactly where I was right now. Did it excite him to be in the same room while I sucked Oliver's dick? Was he at that very moment imagining the way I looked with my mouth full of cock?

"Let him know I'll be with him shortly," Oliver told Ted. "I have to..." His voice grew strained as I again held him in my throat. "I have to finish up here."

"Yes, sir."

The door closed again, but I didn't have the chance to catch my breath before Oliver's grip on my hair tightened. His cry sounded strangely helpless while he erupted in my mouth. My first instinct was to pull back a little. Though his load wasn't as large as the one he'd spilled all over my body last night, it was still a mouthful. Somehow, I managed to gulp it all down while his cock pulsed fiercely between my lips. His seed was hot and thick, and much saltier than his precum.

Finally, he released me, and I drew in a lungful of air. I fought the urge to cough, for my throat was a little sore. As I wiped the tears from my face, Oliver reached for me. "Did I get too carried away?" he asked, stroking my hair.

"No," I assured him in a raspy voice. "It excited me to do that." To prove my words, I guided his hand to the crotch of my wet panties.

Neither of us spoke of how I'd continued the blowjob after he invited Ted into the office. Instead, Oliver rose to his feet, drawing me along with him. His dick was still semi-hard between us.

Tenderly, he kissed my swollen lips. "Thank you for making me so happy, Dreama."

I smiled while watching him put away his cock. Yet when his stare met mine, his eyes were full of regret. "I'm sorry, darling, but you can't be present for the meeting I'm about to have. In fact, you can't be anywhere near that conference room."

"I understand," I quickly replied. For some ridiculous reason, I felt as though I'd been reprimanded. Starting toward the door, I added, "I'll be upstairs in my room."

"And Dreama?" Oliver called.

I stopped and turned to him, unable to hide my hopefulness.

"This meeting will run late," he told me with another apologetic smile, "so don't wait up."