Novel Full Chapter 289: A Taste of Defeat
Chapter 289: A Taste of Defeat
Vivienne stared.
She couldn’t take her eyes off the table.
Helena was draped over the mahogany like a broken doll, her cheek pressed against the wood, her chest heaving with the shallow, ragged breaths of the semi-conscious.
But it was the sight of her lower half that held Vivienne captive.
Helena’s ass was still sticking out, the flesh reddened with handprints. And from her abused, swollen entrance… it was leaking.
A slow, steady trickle of white fluids… a mix of Alex’s seed and Helena’s own arousal… slid down her inner thigh, dripping onto the expensive Persian rug.
Vivienne watched the drip, entranced.
Unconsciously, she ran her tongue over her own lips.
Salt. Musk. Iron.
The taste of them.
She had just had her mouth on her cousin’s clit. She had tasted the explosion. The mixture of their juices was still coating her tongue, heavy and potent, like a forbidden nectar.
She swallowed hard.
It should have been disgusting. It should have been revolting for a woman of her stature.
Instead, a jolt of arousal so sharp it felt like a physical blow slammed into her. She drank it down, licking her lips to catch every last drop, her mind hazy with a primitive, filthy need.
She wanted more. She wanted to lick it all.
Slowly, dragging her gaze away from the wreckage of her cousin, she looked up.
Alex.
He was standing right in front of her, towering over her kneeling form. And to her shock… to her absolute delight… he was ready.
He had gone semi-soft for barely thirty seconds. But seeing Vivienne on her knees, seeing the unadulterated hunger in her eyes, he was already growing again.
Vivienne watched, her eyes bulging, as the thick shaft began to twitch and swell. The veins engorged, ropes of blue standing out against the tan skin. The head flushed a deep, angry purple, expanding until it looked just as threatening… just as monstrous… as it had when it was burying itself in Helena.
She couldn’t help herself.
Her mouth watered. Her lips parted. She wanted to wrap her tongue around it. She wanted to suck the remnants of her cousin off his skin and replace them with her own saliva.
“Hungry?”
The single word cracked through the air like a whip.
Vivienne’s head snapped up.
Alex was looking down at her, a dark, knowing smirk curling his lips. He saw it. He saw the desperation. He saw the way she was eyeing his cock like a starving dog eyeing a bone.
“You really like eating your boss’s leftovers, don’t you?” he taunted, his voice dripping with amusement.
He took a half-step closer, his erection bobbing right in front of her face, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from it.
“Look at it. Still wet with her. Still smelling like her.”
He reached down, running a thumb over the head of his cock, gathering a slick shine of fluid, and then pressed his thumb against Vivienne’s lower lip.
“Open.”
Vivienne opened. She didn’t hesitate. She sucked his thumb into her mouth, her tongue swirling around it, cleaning him off with frantic, eager strokes.
”Good girl,” Alex murmured, watching her degrade herself. “Look at you… cleaning up her mess like a good little slut.”
He pulled his thumb out with a wet pop.
“But if you want the real thing… you’re going to have to earn it.”
He stepped back, just out of reach.
“Stand up.”
Vivienne scrambled to her feet. Her legs were shaky, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. She stood before him, clutching the empty air, feeling exposed and pathetic in her pristine white blouse and skirt.
Alex’s eyes swept over her. He didn’t look at her like a CEO. He looked at her like a product he was inspecting for defects.
“Let’s see if the assistant has anything worth playing with,” he muttered.
He reached out. He didn’t undo the buttons. He grabbed the collar of her expensive silk blouse and yanked.
RIIIIP.
The sound of tearing silk screamed through the quiet room. Buttons popped and flew across the room, pinging against the floorboards like hail. The fabric tore open, exposing her lacy black bra and the pale, heaving swell of her breasts.
Vivienne gasped, the cool air hitting her heated skin, but she didn’t cover herself. She threw her shoulders back, presenting herself to him.
Alex stepped in.
His rough, calloused hands didn’t just touch her; they claimed her. He cupped her breasts through the thin lace, the heat of his palms searing her skin. He weighed them, lifting the heavy flesh, and then he squeezed.
Hard.
“Ohhh!”
Vivienne let out a loud, shameless moan, her head falling back. The sensation was electric.
After hours of denial, his touch felt like fire.
“Loud,” Alex praised, his voice dropping to a husky growl. “I like that. You’re responsive, aren’t you?”
He squeezed again, his thumbs digging into her nipples through the lace, pinching the sensitive buds until they were rock hard.
“AHHH! Yes… Alex…!”
“Good bitch,” he murmured, kneading her breasts with bruising force, treating them like they belonged to him. “Bigger than your boss’s… much bigger. You’ve been hiding these heavy tits under your uniform while she gets all the attention?”
He leaned in, his lips brushing her ear.
“Does she know, ’Helena’? Does your boss know you’re hiding these tits under your uniform? Does she know her assistant is begging to be used?”
“Yes…” Vivienne breathed, her mind fracturing under the pleasure and the shame. “Yes… she knows…”
“I bet she does.”
Alex stepped back again, leaving her chest heaving and aching for more. He sat down on the edge of the dining table, right next to Helena’s head. His legs spread wide, his massive, fully recharged erection jutting out into the space between them.
He looked at Vivienne. Then he looked at his cock. Then back at her.
”Come here.”
Vivienne walked forward. The sight of him… spread wide, thick, and pulsing… short-circuited her brain. She went to reach for him, her hands trembling with the desperate need to wrap her fingers around that velvet steel.
SMACK.
Alex slapped her hand away. Hard.
”Ah-ah,” he tutted, his voice low and dangerous. “No hands.”
He leaned back on his hands, getting comfortable, looking down at her like she was something he had bought on a whim and was already bored with.
”You think you can just grab it?” he scoffed.
“You’re just a little assistant, aren’t you? Assistants don’t get to grab. They wait for orders.”
He circled his hips, making his cock sway hypnotically.
”You don’t take. You wait until you’re fed.”
Vivienne stared at him, her hand stinging, her chest heaving.
She should be furious. She destroyed men for less than this. But she wasn’t.
The degradation hit her like a drug. The more he ordered her, the more her thighs clenched, shaking not from fear, but from the sheer, overwhelming arousal of being put in her place.
She was enjoying this. God help her, she was enjoying the humiliation more than she had ever enjoyed control.
”Well?” Alex prompted, arching a brow. “If you want it… catch it.”
He swung his hips. The heavy head of his cock swayed left.
Vivienne dropped to her knees. She didn’t think; she reacted. She was a starving animal, and he was the meal.
She lunged forward, mouth open, trying to snap her jaws around the head.
Swish.
Alex moved his hips to the left. Her teeth clicked on empty air.
”Too slow,” he taunted.
She tried again, lunging to the left, her tongue darting out.
Swish.
He moved to the right.
”Missed again.”
Vivienne let out a frustrated, needy whimper. She tried to anticipate him, her head bobbing, her eyes locked on the prize. She knew how she looked… ridiculous, desperate, pathetic.
A hungry bitch chasing a scrap.
But seeing herself this way… reduced to this… sent a jolt of pleasure straight to her clit that nearly made her cum right there on the carpet.
Alex chuckled, a dark, cruel sound that vibrated in her bones.
”Look at you,” he sneered. “Bobbing for it. Begging for it.”
He swung his hips forward, slapping the heavy, semi-hard shaft against her left cheek.
SMACK.
The sound was loud. It left a wet, warm smear of her cousin’s juices on her cheek.
”Open up,” he commanded.
He swung it again.
SMACK.
Right across her lips.
”You’re such a slut for this, aren’t you?” he whispered, leaning down. “You like being treated like trash.”
His gaze dropped, traveling down her trembling body to the floor between her spread knees.
He let out a low, mocking whistle.
”Jesus Christ,” he muttered. “Look at you.”
Vivienne followed his gaze.
There, on the polished wood floor, just beneath her skirt, was a glistening wet spot. And her thighs… they were trembling violently, soaked through with her own fluids.
She blinked, the realization hitting her like a physical blow.
She hadn’t just leaked. She had come.
Somewhere between the slaps, the insults, and the desperate chasing of his cock, her body had snapped. She had orgasmed from the sheer, overwhelming humiliation of it all without him even touching her skin.
Shame burned through her, hot and bright. She was the CEO. She was a Vanderbilt. And she was kneeling in a puddle of her own desperation, brought to a climax by being treated like a dog.
But as she looked back up at him… she didn’t care.
The shame was just fuel. It fed the dark, empty pit inside her that was screaming to be filled.
”Yes…” Vivienne gasped, her dignity shattering completely, replaced by a dark, ecstatic need. “Yes… I’m a slut… I’m your slut…”
She looked at his cock… the reward she had humiliated herself for.
”Please…” she begged, tears streaming down her face. “Please… give it to me.”