reading

BRAT’S HEART

Rebecca Ridge

Artcover: Kirra Cheers

Berlinable invites you to leave all your fears behind and dive into a world where sex is a tool for self-empowerment.

Our mission is to change the world - one soul at a time.

When people accept their own sexuality, they build a more tolerant society.

Words to inspire, to encourage, to transform.

Open your mind and free your deepest desires.

All rights reserved. It is not permitted to copy, distribute or otherwise publish the content of this eBook without the express permission of the publisher. Subject to changes, typographical errors and spelling errors. The plot and the characters in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to dead or living people or public figures is not intended and are purely coincidental.

My heart bounces around in my chest, as I walk the short distance from my office cubicle to the ladies. One sweaty fist holding the hem of my cardigan. The other gripping my mobile phone. Nobody is paying attention to me, but I feel like everyone is looking and whispering. I smile, making eye contact with Lee, who occupies the cubicle nearest the toilet. He smiles back, before averting his eyes to speak to Claire who has just approached with a brown folder in her hand. The crowded office building is as busy as always. Phones are ringing off the hook; voices mould into one other, creating a constant dull hum. A ceiling fan blows loudly above my head. I pause, with my hand on the door handle for just a second, letting the cool air blow over my skin, cooling the sheen of sweat that is sticking to my neck.

Once inside, I check each stall to make sure I’m alone. Not that it would make a difference if I wasn’t. I have approximately ten minutes to complete my task; or else I am in trouble. There is no wiggle room with my dom; and the last thing I want to see is disappointment in his mesmerizing eyes. Just thinking about him sends my head into dizzy fantasies that have my nipples standing to attention and my pussy pulsing.

I chose the stall at the end of the room, the one with one solid wall. The other side is MDF with a small gap underneath leading into the next stall. My pulse quickens at the thought of anyone looking under. They wouldn’t, I hope. I mean, why would they?

The wet squelch of my fingers jamming into my pussy echo’s loudly of the walls in the toilet stall. My heart pounds franticly at the thought of being caught. I keep my eyes trained straight ahead looking up at my phone, that is hanging on the hook at the back of the door in the specialised case that Sir made… for this reason. It’s hanging just at the right angle, in the perfect position, to see everything.

I’m sitting on the toilet seat, my back pressed against the cold porcelain. My dress pushed up to my stomach, my underwear around my ankles, feet together, legs spread at the knees. The fire between my legs is building to a fever. I’m biting my lip to keep my panting under control. Sweet pleasure is rippling out through my core making it hard to keep quiet. I grip tightly to the seat. Reluctantly pulling out my fingers just before my orgasm claims me. I smile at the camera, trying not to show my frustration. It won’t help me. It would just make my situation worse. I probably wouldn’t come at all today.

I lick my fingers clean of all of my juices and then pull up my underwear, straightening my dress. I take the phone down from the door, look into the camera, smile sweetly and say,

“Thank you, Sir,” before pressing end.