Novel Full Chapter 290: Served on a Silver Platter
Chapter 290: Served on a Silver Platter
”Please… give it to me.”
The plea hung in the air, pathetic and raw.
He glanced down and saw that Helena was already watching. Her eyes were open, heavy-lidded but sharp, fixed on the pathetic display on the floor with a look of pure, malicious entertainment.
”Are you seeing this, Vivienne?” Alex asked, gesturing to the CEO kneeling in the dirt.
He grinned, sharing the joke with the “boss.”
”Your little assistant is very hungry, isn’t she? Look at her… she has no shame at all.”
A slow, drowsy, malicious smile spread across Helena’s face. She didn’t look away. She enjoyed every second of seeing her powerful cousin reduced to a begging mess.
”Oh…” Helena whispered, her voice raspy. “Look at her…”
She let out a weak, satisfied giggle.
”She’s always been… jealous… of what I have, Mr. Hale.”
”Is that right?” Alex asked, looking back down at Vivienne. “Is that true, little assistant? Are you jealous of your boss?”
Vivienne froze. The cock was right there, inches from her nose.
She looked up. She saw Helena’s smug face. She saw Alex’s arrogant smirk.
She had a choice. She could end it. She could scream the truth.
But then Alex circled his hips again, the head of his penis brushing her lips, promising her the fullness she craved.
”Yes,” Vivienne choked out, surrendering her dignity for the promise of pleasure. “Yes… I’m jealous. I’m so jealous.”
”Then prove it,” Alex growled.
”Take it deep,” Alex commanded, his voice devoid of mercy. “Don’t gag.”
Vivienne didn’t wait. She couldn’t. The hunger was a physical pain now, a void that demanded to be filled.
She lunged.
She didn’t just take the tip. She unhinged her jaw, bypassed her gag reflex through sheer force of will, and slammed her face into his crotch.
GLURK.
The sound was wet, thick, and obscene.
She took him to the hilt in one go, burying her nose in the coarse hair at the base of his stomach, inhaling the heavy, musky scent of him and Helena.
”Fuck yes,” Alex groaned, his hands flying to the back of her head, gripping her hair tight.
He didn’t let her set the pace. He took control immediately. He began to fuck her face, snapping his hips forward, using her mouth like a warm, wet sleeve.
Vivienne’s eyes rolled back. Tears streamed down her face from the depth of it, but she didn’t pull away. She hummed around his cock, her hands clutching his thighs, drinking him down, grateful… so incredibly grateful… to finally be allowed to serve.
But Vivienne wasn’t just a vessel. She was a perfectionist. Even in her defeat, she needed to be the best he had ever had.
She adjusted her rhythm to his. As he pulled back, she didn’t just let him leave; she chased him. She tightened her lips into a punishing vacuum, dragging the wet suction all the way up the shaft until only the head remained in her mouth.
Then, she used her tongue.
She swirled it wickedly around the sensitive ridge of the corona, teasing the swollen purple head, before dragging the flat of her tongue down the underside, targeting the frenulum.
“Ohh god…” Alex hissed, his head falling back, his composure cracking under the assault. “Fuuuck…”
He bucked his hips, abandoning the rhythm to grind himself against her face.
Vivienne took the praise of his groans and doubled her efforts. She let him slide back in, relaxing her throat to swallow him whole again, milking him with a rhythmic, milking pressure that felt like velvet and fire.
She didn’t close her eyes. She wanted him to see.
She rolled her gaze up, looking through her lashes, past the thick rod filling her vision, to meet his eyes.
Their gazes locked.
In that moment, there was no CEO, no Assistant. There was only the Master and his kneeling pet. Her eyes were glassy, watering, and filled with a devotion that bordered on worship.
Alex looked down at her, his expression darkening with a mix of lust and triumph. He saw the surrender. He saw the absolute willingness to be used.
His hands moved from her hair to cup her face, his thumbs stroking her wet cheeks, guiding her, encouraging her to take just a little bit more.
“That’s it,” he groaned, steering her head back and forth, sinking into the warmth of her throat. “Take it all.”
He leaned down, his voice dropping to a rough, intimate rasp that vibrated against her lips.
“I knew it…” he whispered, watching her cheek bulge around his length. “Underneath those expensive suits… underneath that ’proper professional’ act you put on… you were just waiting for this.”
He pulled out slowly, letting the saliva string between them, before slamming back in with a possessive thrust that made her moan around him.
“Look at you,” he taunted, his eyes gleaming with cruel satisfaction. “Sucking me dry like a good little slut. You were born to be on your knees, weren’t you?”
Vivienne whimpered, the insult acting like an aphrodisiac. She tried to take him deeper, to show him just how “natural” she could be, but Alex wasn’t done destroying her composure.
He reached down.
His rough hands bypassed her throat and grabbed the pale, heavy flesh spilling out of her torn blouse. He didn’t caress them; he claimed them. He squeezed her breasts with bruising force, his fingers digging into the soft curves, making them bounce with the rhythm of his hips.
“Look at them,” he growled, watching the heavy mounds jiggle as he fucked her face. “Begging to be handled. Just like you.”
He leaned in closer, his sweat dripping onto her forehead, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial, venomous whisper.
“Should I tell her?” he asked, tilting his head toward the woman watching them from the table.
“Should I tell your ’Boss’ just how good of an assistant you really are?”
He pumped his hips, dragging a moan from her throat, before delivering the final blow.
“Should I tell her that you were ready to sacrifice her for this same cock?”
Vivienne’s eyes widened, her cheek bulging around his shaft.
He smirked, a dark, terrifying expression that made Vivienne’s blood run cold even as her pussy throbbed.
“You were willing to sell her out for it. You were ready to open the gates… ready to help me get my revenge on her daughter… just for a taste of this.”
Vivienne froze, ice flooding her veins.
She was terrified.
Not of the game, but of the exposure. She didn’t want Helena to see the ugly truth: that the great Vivienne Vanderbilt was pathetic enough to sell her soul, her pride, and her family just for this.
Just for a dick.
She scrambled to deny it. She clawed at his thighs, desperate to scream, desperate to defend herself.
But there was no room for words.
”Mmmph… ! G-ghhk!”
Her protest died in her throat. Stuffed full of him, the only sound she could make was a wet, suffocating gag… a pathetic whimper that sounded less like a denial and more like she was choking on her own shame.
Alex looked up. He looked right over her head to the woman watching from the table.
”You have a very dirty assistant, ’Mrs. Vanderbilt,’” Alex called out casually, his voice slicing through the wet, rhythmic sounds of suction.
Vivienne froze mid-suck, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird.
”Do you know what she did?” Alex continued, his tone conversational, cruel, as if he were reporting a billing error. “She didn’t just bring you wine. She served you up on a silver platter.”