The Love Of Money - S01 E09

Story 2 weeks ago

The Love Of Money - S01 E09

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 9

The room fell silent as we studied each other. Finally, she spoke up, "It's a valid concern. I would have the same. So... do you intend on hiring someone else? I can promise you that no one understands your grandfather's estate better than my firm." She adjusted herself on the couch so that her legs were tucked under her, more distance subtly disappearing between us. "Your concern about us mismanaging your estate for selfish gain should keep in mind that any other firm would likely mismanage your estate due to lack of experience." Another smile, "Besides... all lawyers are bastards."

She leaned forward, the neckline of her dress draping forward to show a generous amount of cleavage. A woman as perfect as her made me wonder if she'd had any work done, or if it was all natural. Even this close, I couldn't tell.

She placed her hands on the cushion between us, that predatory smile deepening, "And you're not a helpless lamb, Mr. Upton. You're the richest man alive. You could literally take my firm apart, if you wanted. Ruin the lives of anyone on a whim. Almost everyone there is as terrified of you as apparently you are of them. Probably more. Literally half my firm exists just to take care of the Gerrard estate." She inched forward, and I had a hard time focusing on her words in the presence of such beauty.

"And we're desperate to keep you... sir." Her face was inches from mine, slightly lower so she could look up to add a touch more subservience to the word 'sir'. God... she was good. Her eyes were an ice blue that was so rare to find, but at this moment, they were anything but cold.

And I found it almost impossible not to move.

I felt her palm press gently to my face, her thumb running up and down my cheekbone as she stared into my eyes. She smelled like a mixture of vanilla and lavender. The smell, the stare, the feel of her soft hand on my face... it all mingled together in a concoction that made it impossible to think clearly. It was all happening so fast.

"What do you want?" she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper. I felt her leg slide over my lap and felt her full weight on me. She was straddling my lap, that brief moment of subservience

replaced by a woman who knew exactly what I wanted and had

decided that she would deign to give it to me. I looked up at her

face staring down at me from over the gentle swells of her half- exposed breasts contained in her little black dress. "Aren't you - started.

"We have an... arrangement," she said as she looked me up and down. "And that arrangement Includes giving the wealthiest man in the world whatever he wants." She lowered her face until her lips brushed mine, not quite a kiss, but teasing at what I could have. I swallowed her breath with every inhale, and the only thing I could think of at that moment was how much I wanted those lips on mine.

"Do you want..." She leaned forward so that could feel her breasts press against my chest. I found her breath on my ear. And then she started making small circular thrusts with her hips, grinding the boiling heat between her legs into my hardon through my pants. "Me?" She punctuated that with a lingering kiss on my ear - the sound of it made me shiver Involuntarily, and I could hear a little hum of satisfaction from her as she could obviously tell what kind of reaction she was getting from me. She pulled away, leaving little trailing kisses down my cheek and then lingered there before giving me a final, moist kiss just beside my mouth. The corner of her lips connected with mine, and I knew that just a slight turn of the head and our mouths would be covering each other. The length of time she lingered there felt like an eternity. I felt like my heart was about to rupture through my rib cage.

She finally pulled away just enough for my eyes to meet hers. Her lips still hovered less than an inch from mine still.

"Just say the word, Marcus," she whispered.

I didn't say anything. I could barely breathe, let alone talk. I simply crushed my lips against Helen's, grabbing the sides of her head as I drank from her.

Her hands cupped either side of my face as her tongue found its way into my mouth. That pressure on my crotch returned as she began grinding against me. She tasted exquisite. Her flavor, her scent, the way her fingers danced between graceful delicacy and firm passion... she could have asked me to sign over my entire fortune to her and I would have considered it at that moment.

Jessica who?

She pulled back and slid the fingers of her left hand into my hair, gently tugging it back so she could expose my neck to her soft lips. Her other hand creeped lower until she found my belt and began to work it loose "Mmm... Marcus. You feel so big."

I had a momentary pang of concern as I heard words pulled directly from a porn, reminding me that this was transactional. She was clearly seducing me on behalf of her firm... trying to get me to stay with illicit things. For a brief moment, I considered whether I wanted this. She was married, and Roger VanCamp had felt like more of a tiger than anyone else in that room. Did I really want to invite this sort of trouble into my life when it was already in so much turmoil?

And then Helen's lips and tongue began to work their way downward, suckling at the hollow of my throat before she pulled away and stared down at me. That predatory smile on her lips felt softer... more genuine. It wiped any concern instantly.

She slid the dress off her shoulders and worked it down her torso, exposing her breasts. They were perfect - pale flesh dappled with goosebumps from being exposed to the cool apartment air. They were capped with pale pink nipples no bigger than the head of an eraser, and surrounded by small circles of pale pink skin. Her breasts were slightly too big for my palms. I checked. And so very warm to the touch. Helen ran warmer than the average person, which perfectly juxtaposed the cool demeanor she'd maintained in the meeting earlier today. I kneaded the skin of her breasts beneath my palms, admiring her perfect skin before looking up into her pale blue eyes. At that moment, she ceased being Helen VanCamp, wife of Roger VanCamp. She was simply a woman that I wanted... that I needed to be inside of... to possess.

Helen's words rang in my head once again - And that arrangement includes giving the wealthiest man in the world whatever he wants.

And for the first time today, I felt better about everything.

I had gone all day feeling like someone who had no clue what they were doing. Worried about taxes, fees, fallout of the news of my financial success... scared of what this woman would do to me if I let my guard down for a heartbeat. I had spent this entire time worried about the next step. I'd failed to remember one thing

I was the wealthiest man on the planet. I had what everyone wanted. I had what Helen's firm wanted. I had what Helen wanted.

I had all the power. And I knew what I wanted.

I wanted Helen.