Hollywood Bad Boys Club: Book 2: Mason by Alexis Adaire

Going against every impulse in me that says to let him have his way, I grab him forcefully by the wrists and stop him. I will dictate the terms of this encounter, not him.
    “Not so fast.”
    Stark is agitated and bewildered at my calling a halt to things. His expression tells me an explanation is required.
    I feel powerful as I stand before him wearing only heels while he’s still fully dressed. My nakedness and my sexuality are weapons I can wield against my rival. As excited as I already am, stopping Mason Stark in his tracks is a potent aphrodisiac of its own.
    “If we’re actually going to do this, we do it my way,” I say. “Otherwise, get the fuck out of my office.”
    Stark’s mouth falls open in disbelief.
    “And what exactly is your way?” he asks.
    “Take off your clothes,” I command.
    This is so decidedly not who I am sexually that it feels like I’m acting. It’s not an order Stark is going to resist, though, as he was headed rapidly in that direction anyway. He tosses his jacket on the floor, then takes off his shoes and socks. I watch impatiently, my body burning with desire for him. He roughly yanks off his tie and it ends up on the floor as well. Staring directly at my pussy, he unbuttons his shirt, peels it off and discards it.
    His body is marvelous, and Stark knows it. He’s trim and fit, not an ounce of fat anywhere on him. His belly is flat and his abdominal muscles firm and tight. There’s a light dusting of brown hair on his chest, with a sexy trail leading my eyes from his stomach to his pants.
    I watch with anxious anticipation as he unfastens his belt and slides the zipper down, then bends forward at the waist and slips his pants off. When he rises, I’m surprised to see he’s removed his underwear as well. His cock, so rock-hard only moments earlier, is now only halfway erect, but it is gorgeous. I don’t care much about length or girth, but I love a beautiful cock, and Mason Stark’s is as perfect a specimen as I’ve ever seen.
    “Next?” he asks with a smirk.
    “Touch it.”
    “As you wish, m’lady,” he says. Despite his mocking tone, he nevertheless takes his cock in his hand and holds it.
    “Stroke it for me. I need you hard.”
    I look from his cock to his eyes and am met with defiance.
    “Or maybe you’d rather we just stop now,” I say, my nakedness taunting him.
    We have a fleeting standoff, then I see movement and look down to see Stark stroking himself. It’s really a magnificent sight, his hand slowly moving up and down the length of his shaft. His cock quickly responds, hardening as his hand caresses it. I could watch this all night, but don’t get that opportunity because he soon releases his grip and I see that he is gloriously, magnificently erect. Larger than before, his hard-on angles slightly upward in front of his body as Stark dares me to continue.
    I take his cock in my hand, my pussy clenching involuntarily when I feel its warm hardness. I squeeze to test its rigidity and can’t help but be impressed. Now I’m more excited than ever. “Very nice. Now lie on my desk. On your back.”
    Stark bristles at being ordered around, exactly the reaction I was hoping for. He casually walks past me, his erection leading the way. I see a lusciously sculpted ass as he rounds the desk, then he climbs up and lies on the cold surface of the thick glass layer protecting the burnished walnut. His cock stands straight up and I think about the intense heat of our interactions all night long, wondering if he’d become hard at any point during dinner.
    When I notice a clear drop of pre-cum sitting atop the tip, I slowly lean over the desk and lick it off, barely allowing my tongue to brush over the tiniest area of skin. It’s more difficult than it sounds because every fiber of my being wants to bring my lips down over that hard, handsome cock, not stopping until I have it all in my mouth. I resist, though, refusing to give him the blowjob he claims to want so