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Never Let Go: A Collection of Sensual Short Stories Page 10
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I squared my jaw. I’d started this, I couldn’t back down now. “You tell me.”
Another step and the gap was gone. His face was only inches from mine, and his scent touched my nose. Spicy and clean and just a little raw. No cologne for this man.
He reached out and slid a finger down my jawline. I startled, but I refused to step back.
“I guess a man might be afraid that if he started fucking you, he’d never want to give you up,” he murmured.
He pulled me roughly against him and his lips fell onto mine. Soft and testing, but confident. His tongue slipped between my lips and stroked me, and he wrapped his arms around me. The hardness of his body felt so good, so solid, against mine. He was just as skilled, but a very different kind of kisser than Daniel. Daniel took without remorse; Bruce forced me to give.
I leaned into him and a needy sound escaped my throat. Then his mouth was gone from mine.
“You know how I felt watching him fuck you on that table?” he asked, mouth only a hairsbreadth away.
“Mad?” I whispered.
“It made me so damn hard I could barely see straight. Then I got pissed.”
I searched his face, but he didn’t look pissed now. Intense and somewhat unreadable, but not openly angry.
“I didn’t know you were interested.”
“I did my best to hide it.”
I hesitated, but I had to know. What if he thought I was some sort of a slut? Well, if he didn’t like a woman who was willing to pursue her own pleasure then he wasn’t the sort of man the new me wanted to be involved with. “And now? What do you think of me?”
“I’m done hiding. And I think you’re a sexy, beautiful woman who enjoys sex. What man wouldn’t want that? I’ll admit, I was a little jealous, seeing you with Daniel. But I can’t hold that against you, not when I was too chicken to make any claim.” He kissed me again. Soft and slow and thorough, his lips and tongue explored me. I opened to him, unable to keep my need hidden. I’d wanted him for months, and had imagined this exact thing so many times. But my imagination had never done him justice.
A shiver ran through me at that kiss, and the soft caress of his hands on my body, the feel of his solid arms around me. Then he was undressing me, slow and smooth, just like his kiss. The expression on his face was almost reverent as his eyes took me in. And his pace grew more hurried, more intense, with each bit of clothing that dropped.
“You’re beautiful,” he said softly after he’d stripped me down to nothing but my black heels.
I smiled and pushed down the emotion that his words elicited. Bruce wanted me, and that was heady stuff. But getting emotional might just scare the stolid man away.
Keep it light. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”
Ignoring my observation, he lowered his mouth to my breasts and kissed and licked my nipples as tenderly as he had my mouth. Slowly, he lowered himself to his knees, kissing and licking his way down my stomach. Then he was pushing my thighs apart, and I pressed my hands against his desk to keep myself upright, stepping my feet apart to open for him.
His tongue touched my clit, and I was suddenly thankful for the desk.
I gasped as he worked me with his tongue, his lips, his teeth. He slid a thick finger into me and I almost lost it. Another finger joined the first, sliding slowly—achingly slowly—in and out of my needy pussy while he continued to suck and lick and nibble at my sensitive bud. All with his full business attire still on—even his tie. The sight combined with his slow and methodical assault pushed me over the edge.
“Bruce—” I managed as the orgasm hit. It rolled through my whole body, the sensation a wave I couldn’t control. I cried out. He stood and his hand came over my mouth, while his other hand continued to work me, pulling out every last second of pleasure he could from me.
“Good girl,” he murmured in my ear and pulled me against him. I slumped, my arms around his neck and my face tucked into his chest, unable to form words. I took a deep breath, inhaling his spicy, masculine scent. Softly, his hand slid up and down my back.
It was disturbingly comforting. Feeling so safe in the arms of a man I barely knew on a personal level, at our place of work, during a time of day where other people were still likely to be around—likely enough that he’d muffled my cries with his hand over my mouth. But, he hadn’t been concerned enough not to draw them from me.
Something fluttered in my chest, a fleeting feeling that I wasn’t ready to examine it yet.
I pulled back and met his gaze. A ferocity lurked behind those dark brown eyes, but there was something so incredibly tender there, too.
“You’re amazing.” He kissed me and pulled me close. I melted into the kiss and slid my hand down to grip his erection over his slacks.
“You’re pretty damn amazing yourself.” I grinned and tugged on the button of his pants. The insanity of the last week had been intense and wonderful, but I suddenly needed to be in control, if only for a little while. Explore the power I’d felt running through me since Daniel told me he wanted to fuck me. A feeling that jumped to a whole different level knowing that Bruce wanted me, too.
Bruce let me open his slacks, and in a few seconds I was pushing them down, along with his boxer briefs, just far enough to free his very hard, and very large, cock.
But I didn’t push them down farther, and I didn’t try to remove his shirt. Instead, I walked us in a circle so that his back was to the desk, and he followed my lead.
The idea of sucking him off, naked and completely vulnerable in his office while he was still dressed head to toe turned me on something fierce. There was something submissive in the idea, but it came with a heady sense of power that made me feel almost drunk.
I went to my knees and he watched me, as if he couldn’t look away. He hissed when I licked the head of his cock, and wrapped his fingers in my hair. His thickness filled my mouth and I gripped the base, working him in and out, slow and methodical, just like he’d worked my body only minutes before.
He tasted salty and sweet and clean, and his masculine scent surrounded me, filling my lungs. His cock thick enough that I had to work to get my mouth around him, stretching it to take him. Just like my pussy would have to stretch. The thought made my lower stomach clench.
Taking as much of his length as I could, I looked up and met his gaze.
“You know how many times I’ve thought about this? Wondered how your mouth would feel wrapped around my dick?” His voice was breathless, and a jolt of satisfaction ran through me.
I released him slowly, inch by inch, and he let out a low growl.
“Am I living up to the fantasy?” My voice came out raspy.
“Honey, the fantasy doesn’t touch the reality.” Hand threaded through my hair, he guided me back to his cock. I shot him a grin and licked slow circles around the head of his penis. His grip on my hair tightened and he took in a quick breath. The knowledge that I made him this turned on, this powerful, attractive man, filled me with confidence. Confidence enough to play with him.
I licked from the base of his shaft up to the tip, tasting the pre-come that had been moistening him. I softly cupped his balls with my hand. His pants were difficult to work around, but I managed. Alternatively licking and kissing him, then taking only the tip of him into my mouth before repeating the torture.
Every small noise that escaped him, every jerk of his hips, every muttered curse made me hotter, my panties damper, and my pussy clench with need. But I forced myself to not give in to my own desires quite so quickly. The newly discovered power I seemed to have over a man I’d thought out of my league wasn’t something I could bring myself to give up easily.
He groaned, long and low, when I took him back in my mouth. I moved rapidly up and down his shaft, working the base with my hand. He jerked, hips moving forward, and his cock bumped the back of my throat. The salty taste of him filled my mouth, and while I didn’t have a lot of tricks in my repertoire, he was breathing hard by the time he tugged me fr
om his cock by my hair.
“But don’t you…?” I managed, breathless with my own desire. How would it feel if he came in my mouth? The evidence of his desire, shooting down my throat. Bruce, my sexy, unattainable boss, losing control and crying out with my mouth milking him. Suddenly I almost wanted that more than I needed him to fuck me.
He shook his head, regret coating his expression, but his voice was firm. “Next time.”
He helped me to my feet, then moved a few choice items off his desk. Not in a rush, but almost methodically pushing things out of the way.
“You’re so orderly,” I teased.
He raised an eyebrow at me before pulling me back against him. “Sometimes I don’t mind a little bit of a mess.”
The soft tender kisses were gone now, and he consumed my mouth as if it was his to take. His skin was rough against my cheek, touched with five o’clock shadow. With one quick motion he lifted me onto the desk, setting me so my ass was near the edge. His hand slipped down between my legs, and he explored me. A soft brush of his fingertip on my clit made me cry out, then he moved on to dip a thick finger into my wet heat, a tease before he moved on to caress my thigh, brush my mound. He brought me to a quivering, trembling mess of need so easily that in other circumstances, with another man, it might have been mortifying.
But the shame I expected didn’t come. So what if he excited me so much, so quickly? It was a little late to be worried about that. And the realization that I wasn’t ashamed enhanced my feeling of power.
I’d never been a woman who could easily pursue her own pleasure, too bogged down by worry and fear when it came down to actually approaching men. But those feelings no longer existed—not in this room. Not right now.
I gripped his ass and pulled myself to the very edge of the desk and ground myself against him. He groaned and pushed his pants farther down. A condom appeared from one of his pockets and he slipped it on. I half wanted to pull at his shirt, get a look at the hard chest I’d only felt under my fingers. But he was having none of that. He barely got his pants down a few extra inches before his hands closed around my hips in a punishing grip. Then he was pushing into me.
I gasped when he penetrated me with the head of his cock.
“You’re so fucking wet,” he said, voice strained. “So hot.”
He didn’t barrel his way in. Instead he eased inside of me, giving my body a chance to get used to his large girth. I could feel every inch of his cock as he slid into my aching pussy. I moaned and threw my head back, not caring that his intense gaze was fixed on my face, that he watched every bit of pleasure he was bringing from me in my expression. And he started rocking, thrusting in and out slowly, forcing my body to adjust to his size. He filled me so completely that I lost my ability to think.
“God, you're beautiful,” Bruce said, then he cursed softly under his breath and began to move faster.
He thought I was beautiful. The wonder of that thought was lost when I opened my eyes to watch him move. Perspiration touched his brow as he pumped into me, steadily and then faster. Harder. I could feel every thrust so deep inside myself that it was just on the right side of pain. And the harder he thrust, the more I felt his thickness. I wrapped my legs around his waist, holding on for dear life.
“Fuck, Alison. So fucking tight. Going to come so hard in your wet pussy,” he ground out, then he shifted. His thrusts turned shallow and his cock rubbed against something inside of me—just the right spot. “Come for me, Ali. Show me how much you like my dick.”
Waves of pleasure hit at his dirty words and the new way he fucked me. The orgasm rolled through me, sending his name loudly from my lips, and a long series of shudders through my whole body. Bruce didn't try to silence me this time, instead my name escaped his lips as he thrust into me almost wildly, fast and hard and deep, before stiffening and cursing as he found his release inside of me.
A long moment passed, then he kissed me softly and pulled me against him, ignoring that I was probably mussing up his suit. I guessed, after what we’d just done while he was wearing it, that he didn’t care much about his clothes. A minute of silence only marred by the sound of our steadily slowing breathing settled over us, and I couldn’t remember ever experiencing such a perfect moment.
Finally he pulled out of me and stepped back. We began dressing, both quiet, as if we were afraid to disturb the silence. As I slid into a high heel that had escaped me at some point, I turned to look at him. The weight of him watching me hadn’t been a trick of my mind, and when I turned he quirked an eyebrow at me.
“You hungry?”
“I could eat.” Our tones were casual, but there was no doubt in my mind that something had just changed. Something in me was blossoming. A confidence. And a longing.
And maybe, just maybe, he was feeling something, too.
Sneak Peek of Billionaire Boss
Office Party Part One
Faith Wilson needs a job—badly. She’s willing to do anything she can to secure a position with Lawrence & Associates. But when she’s told the job involves satisfying her coworkers and clients in every erotic way the boss deems necessary, she hesitates. But a little time in Mr. Lawrence’s office convinces her to throw caution to the wind and give it a shot.
* * *
But while the boss directs the show, he won’t touch her—not until she’s passed all of his tests. Faith thinks Mr. Lawrence might be worth the challenge, and she’s determined to make him desire her as badly as she wants him.
* * *
The Interview is an erotic short story with light BDSM elements. It involves a hot encounter between multiple male partners with one female interviewee (MFM) who is about to have her limits explored. It is not intended for young readers due to mature content. Adults only.
Chapter One
Faith wanted the job so badly she could taste it.
Seeing the office decided it. Not only was it nicely decorated with furniture that suggested they’d actually be able to pay their employees as promised, the air conditioning was divine.
It spoke to their ability to actually pay their employees, and that was pretty important considering her last job—as a secretary for a small fly-by-night injury attorney—still hadn’t paid her for her last month in their employ. Collecting had been pretty much impossible when they’d simply closed up shop and neglected to tell her. And it wasn’t like she had money to track them down.
Nervously, she tugged at the expensive skirt-suit she’d maxed her credit card out to purchase, and gave the receptionist a polite smile when the woman said Mr. Lawrence would be with her in a few minutes.
“Nice office,” she told the woman—Tara, according to the nameplate. Buxom and blond, she was more beautiful than anyone Faith had ever seen up close. But she seemed nice enough, and she flashed her big, bright teeth at Faith’s comment.
“It’s a very nice office.” Tara winked, then laughed. Her slight Southern accent softened what seemed to be an inside joke.
Faith didn’t get the joke, but she chuckled politely and did her best to pretend she wasn’t pretending. She needed this job, and if she had to laugh at jokes she didn’t understand to get it, she would.
It had been a hell of a month. Not only had she not been paid for her last few weeks of work, her boyfriend had split the second she’d suggested he start paying half the rent, since he crashed at her place pretty much every night he wasn’t passed out drunk on one of his buddies’ couches. To be honest, she hadn’t been too sorry to see him go, but she did miss the sex and the companionship.
Well, mostly just the sex. Her pet goldfish Puff was nearly as good a conversationalist as her ex.
“He’s a little behind today with all the interviews. Can I get you something to drink? Coffee? Water? We have some sodas, but I’ll have to check what kinds.”
“I’d take a water, if you don’t mind.”
“Sure thing, hon.”
Faith did her best not to fidget, forcing in a deep breath and tryin
g to remember all the things her mom used to tell her about survival. You do what you have to, baby girl. I’ve no doubt you can do anything you have to in order to survive.
Blinking back the sudden moisture in her eyes at the thought of her mother, she smiled at Tara. The receptionist gave her a reassuring smile and handed her a bottle of water.
“Thank you.” She stood and accepted the water, then the sound of a door closing made her pause. A few seconds later, a man appeared from the hallway.
Tall and broad-shouldered, he filled the room the moment he entered it. His dark hair was cut in a close business cut, but waved a bit on the top. A tailored suit adorned his body, simultaneously professional and sexy. Dark blue eyes locked on hers, and the ability to breathe escaped her for a few seconds.
She stepped forward to shake his hand—he had to be Mr. Lawrence, because she couldn’t see this man being anything but the boss.
Gaze sliding away from hers, he halted and turned. “Thank you again for coming by, we’ll be in touch.” He shook a diminutive Asian woman’s hand. The pretty woman smiled at him shyly and turned to leave.
Faith clenched her hands into fists at her sides. What the hell was wrong with her? Sure, he was an impressive-looking man, but she hadn’t even noticed the woman walking beside him. Being that unobservant wasn’t likely to get her the job, for crying out loud.
So embarrassing.
“Miss Wilson?” His gaze swept over her, evaluating, but his expression didn’t reveal a thing.
She gave him a quick nod, unable to find her voice.
“This way.” Briskly, he turned from her and headed down the hall, not bothering to turn and make sure she followed.
Rushing after him, she tried to clear her thoughts. This job wasn’t optional—she needed it. Get your brain together, Faith.