The Seminar

I had a seminar in France and I asked Tom to come with me. He told me, regretfully, that he could not make it because of his filming schedule. I left for France by myself and checked into my hotel room. After I settled in, I called him to let him know I arrived safely.

He asked for the hotel and room details. “For security purposes,” he said.

I forwarded every detail and ended the call.

The following afternoon I was working on my laptop in the room. I was wearing a tank top over my bare breasts and small boy shorts. My photochromic glasses protected my eyes.

There was a knock at the door.

“Room service,” a voice said.

I frowned. “I didn’t order room service.” Then a long sigh, and a voice that sent a thrill straight through me: “It’s Tom, love.”

I set my laptop down, raced to the door and threw it open. I stared up at him, grinning, my heart hammering.

He tipped and thanked the fake room-service waiter and stepped into the suite. I was still smiling sheepishly when he closed the door behind him and pulled me into his arms. He lowered his head and kissed me deeply.

We stumbled to the couch and I straddled his legs. He ran his hands over me while we kissed breathlessly. I started unbuttoning his shirt as I kissed his neck. He turned his head to give me better access and his gaze snagged on a tiny knot of red fabric on the couch. He reached, picked it up, and his brows shot up when he saw it was a red thong, twisted as if it had been yanked off in a hurry.

I felt him still beneath me and lifted my head to ask what was wrong. My words froze when I saw the thong in his hand. “I can explain,” I said.

He sat up with me on his lap, took both my hands, and brought the thong to my face so I could see it clearly. His voice was deceptively calm. “Start talking.”

I knew he was furious beneath that calm. I stammered out the story about hooking up with a girl I met at the seminar, how one thing led to another.

He tossed the thong aside and stood up swiftly. He lifted me and threw me over his shoulder as he walked toward the bed.

I shifted to make myself comfortable and felt a sharp sting across my ass. I gasped from the hard spank. He dropped me onto the bed.

“You’re still fucking girls?” he bit out.

“I’m sorry,” I whimpered.

The sting radiated; tears blurred my vision and something else throbbed between my legs. He undid the rest of his buttons and stripped off his shirt. My sight blurred with a mixture of tears and arousal as he undid his belt, his fly, and dropped his jeans and underwear in one fluid motion.

He was so hard my mouth watered. I dropped to my knees, eager to taste him.

He let me almost touch him before catching my hand. He grabbed my hair and tilted my face up. “Did you eat her out?” he asked in that quiet voice.

I nodded quickly. Lying to him was impossible. He could see into me.

“And you let me kiss you?” he ground out through clenched teeth.

“I’m sorry,” I sobbed. Tears streamed down my face. My juices were running down my thighs.

He gave a single command. “Open your mouth.”

I opened it immediately.

He lowered my head and gripped my jaw with his free hand. He angled my face and thrust into my mouth. He hit the back of my throat and kept going.

I tensed and gagged and he withdrew. “Breathe,” he told me.

I took a deep breath, and he thrust again, deeper. I hummed on him and the vibration traveled up his length. He threw his head back and groaned. He pulled out and drove back harder, his hand in my hair tightening.

He looked down at me. “What did I tell you about your body?”

I couldn’t answer with his cock in my throat.

He pulled out, flipped me onto my stomach, and yanked my shorts down, sticky with my own wetness.

I felt the strike before I heard it. His palm came down hard on my ass and I cried out.

“I asked you a question,” he said.

The contrast between his roughness and the calmness of his tone drove me wild. I began to shake.

“You said my body belongs to you,” I whispered.

“So why did you let her touch you?”

“I was so horny. I’m sorry. Please, Tom—”

His palm landed again. “Please what, love? What are you begging me for?”

“Fuck me, please.”

He chuckled, and I spread my legs when his hand found my mound.

He traced a finger along my wet slit and rubbed my clit gently with his thumb. He dipped a finger into me.

My greedy hole closed around him and sucked eagerly.

He withdrew and pushed two fingers in to the hilt.

I jerked and moaned, humping his hand. He let me.

His free hand gripped one cheek and spread me, exposing my other hole.

I flinched. “No, Tom. I’m not prepared.”

“I know. I’m not going to fuck it today. But I’m going in there before we return to LA. I’m going to fuck every hole in your body,” he said.

His words hit me like a hot pulse and I clenched as he worked his fingers inside me, expert, confident strokes. He slapped my ass once more and I lost it. I came hard on his fingers.

“You’ve been a bad girl,” he purred into my ear, “but you’re still my girl.”

He withdrew his fingers and grabbed my waist, then slid into me. He didn’t stop until he had taken every inch of himself into my warm sheath.

I felt the grin in his voice when he murmured, “My turn.”

He drove into me, hard and relentless. I screamed as wave after wave rolled through me. My second orgasm washed through me and he kept going.

I sobbed his name into the pillow while he dug his fingers into my hips and pounded me over and over. He lifted my ass with each thrust, taking total control. The sounds of skin on skin filled the room. I felt him swell and then growl as he spurted his seed deep inside me.

“I fucking own you. You’re mine,” he said.

My body convulsed as a third orgasm ripped through me and I started to cry outright.

He collapsed beside me and pulled me into his arms. We fell asleep tangled together.