by Lucy Eden
“I’m cumming again,” I moaned. I felt the climax rock my body as he continued to press into me. His mouth closed over mine absorbing my screams of pleasure. Just when the first orgasm began to subside, another one hit me like an earthquake. I felt my body clench and spasm. Charles showed no signs of slowing down.
“Yes, my love,” He growled, “cum for me. I want you to cum for me again and again.” I obliged as waves and waves of heat washed over me. He continued for what felt like blissful ages until he pressed into me with one hard thrust and felt his entire body clench over me, triggering one final wave of pleasure. We froze that moment in time, holding each other as our climaxes subsided.
Charles kissed me again, withdrew himself from me and slid himself behind me in the tub, splashing water on the floor in the process. I relaxed my head into his chest and sighed deeply. I've never been more exhausted in my life and never more contented. He kissed the top of my head. I could feel his massive chest heaving as breathed.
"Is it weird, that I'm hungry again?" I eyed the half-eaten tray of food just beyond my reach on the small table at the foot of the tub.
“Not after what I just saw.” He laughed and kissed me. “I’ve seen linebackers with smaller appetites.”
“If only the table was just a little bit closer.”
“No worries, babe,” he reached up and dug into the pocket of his robe, hanging on the hook behind us. “I got us covered.” He retrieved a pint of ice cream and a spoon. I began to laugh when I saw the label.
“What?!” I chuckled, “seriously?”
“What do you mean?,” he asked in a tone of feigned indignation, “I heard this stuff is pretty good.”
“You heard?” I laughed incredulously, “do you mean to tell me that you bought a multimillion-dollar ice cream company and you've never even tasted the ice cream?"
"Do I look like a guy who eats a lot of ice cream?" He definitely didn't. "Besides, I'm head over heels in love with you, and I haven't tasted you yet." That silenced me and I flushed crimson, imagining Charles' powerful jaws working between my thighs. "I also heard," he popped off the top, tossed it aside and sank the spoon into the surface, "that this is the best flavor." He fed me the first spoonful. He was right. It was my favorite.
Every year for seventy years, three Claffey’s employees were chosen at random to design a flavor of ice cream to sell for a limited time during the peak season. Three years ago, I was selected, and with the help of the ice cream chefs created "Tessa's Toffee Coffee Crunch." Dustin thought I was crazy and he could afford to be smug because the previous summer his "Dustin's Death by Dutch Chocolate" was the best seller.
Assisting the CEO of a national company was an incredibly hard job. There were long hours, very little sleep and massive amounts of stress. At times, I felt I lived on coffee and candy. So, I combined the two and created that summer’s best seller. It outsold Dustin’s flavor and was extended for fall. My thoughts drifted to Dustin and how my actions yesterday might have affected him.
“Hey,” Charles offered me another bite of ice cream, “what’s wrong?”
"It's Dustin," I began, "I haven't spoken to him since yesterday. I hope he's ok."
"There you go again," he chuckled, "always so worried about everyone else."He kissed the top of my head, "I wouldn't worry about Dustin, and I don't think he'll be available anytime soon." I raised my eyebrows. "He'll be too swamped at work." I felt a smile slowly spreading across my face, "You were right about him. He's whip-smart with one hell of a work ethic. He'll make one hell of an executive assistant," He gave me a sarcastic smirk, "you know because my other assistant quit her first day." I knew he was teasing me, but I was too excited for Dustin to be offended. I grabbed his face and kissed him, splashing water in the process. "Hey, watch the ice cream! This flavor is discontinued. I had to pull a lot of strings to get this."
"Did you call the guy that owned the company?" I asked with an eyebrow raised. I straddled him and planted a kiss on his nose.
"No, that guy's an asshole," he smirked, "I called the CEO, she owes me a favor or two." He kissed me again, and my mind drifted to Mr. Claffey. It was so weird not to think of him as the CEO, and it was so hard to believe what Charles told me about him, even though it made too much sense not to be true. "Tessa," Charles' eyes were searching my face, "Where did you go?"
“I was thinking of Mr. Claffey.”
“What?!” he exclaimed in disbelief.
“No,” I laughed, “not like that.” I felt him relax under me and he shook his head. “I just mean, I can’t believe he was stealing from the company. I always thought he was such a good man.”
“God, I love you,” he took my face in his hands and kissed me, “Come here.” I leaned forward and pressed the side of my face into his chest. He kissed the top of my forehead and continued, “What do you know about Marvin Claffey?”
"Well, I know his grandfather started the company, and he was named CEO when his father died. He was a great boss. He was generous, kind and fair. He and his wife, Janice, were a great source of comfort for me when my parents died." My eyes welled with tears at the memories, "They even offered to let me live with them."
“Tell me about Janice.” He stroked my hair.
"Janice is beautiful, both inside and out," These memories made me smile, "They've been together forever and he always calls her ‘his better half' and you could see it. His face lights up whenever he talks about her, and he was always happier when she was around. He was always buying her expensive gifts and taking her on trips around the world. They would call each other five times a day. I was always instructed to put her calls through, no matter who he was meeting with. Last year, they celebrated their fiftieth wedding anniversary and invited the entire company to this huge party. I'd never seen anything like it. He was like a lovesick teenager, who still couldn't believe his luck after fifty years." He planted another kiss on my head. "Everyone else loves Janice too. She has a laugh that can always cheer you up. She never forgets your birthday, always has great advice and won't hesitate to tell you if you're full of shit in a way that could somehow still make you smile." Charles sighed deeply, and I could feel him tense up. I sat up to face him.
“What’s wrong?” His face was full of clouds. He was struggling to say something. “What is it? Why are you asking me about the Claffey’s?”
“Baby,” he began with a hint of sadness in his voice, "Janice is sick." My mouth dropped open in disbelief. "It seems like she's been sick for a couple of years. The company was doing well, but when her health started to go down, the company also suffered." I began searching my brain over the past years for any indication that something was wrong and I couldn't find one. "He began embezzling millions of dollars from the company, paying for treatments the insurance wouldn't cover, trips around the world, lavish gifts…"
He trailed off, deep in thought and I couldn't imagine what he must have been thinking, then he said, "He was ready to risk jail and run his company into the ground to save the woman he loved and do anything he could to make her happy." He wrapped his arms around me holding me close to him, I rested my face on his chest, feeling the hot tears silently streak down my cheeks. We sat in silence for a minute.
“So, that’s why you didn’t fire him?” I asked through sniffles. This thought floated around my head since we left the hospital. It was the one thing that didn’t make any sense.
"How could I?" He shrugged, "What he did was wrong, but once I laid eyes on you, I knew I would do the same thing or worse if I was in his shoes." He hugged me tighter. "He got in way over his head. He needed a lifeline, the way I needed a lifeline." He was talking about me, an idea I was still struggling to wrap my head around.
“How is Janice?” I could feel his smile as he kissed my forehead.
“Well, I pulled some strings and had some professionals flown in to take a look at her.” I lifted my head and stared at him in disbelief. “Her prognosis looks good, but it’s really a waiting game.�
� I couldn’t believe he was downplaying this magnanimous gesture like he’d just ordered the Claffey’s a pizza.
“You’re amazing!” I kissed him again. Then I had a thought. “Wait, is Janice Claffey in the other suite at the hospital?”
"Yeah, she is," he smiled. He looked like he was trying to work out where I got that tidbit of information. Then he smiled, "Delores. Well, yeah, apparently there's something about this town. No one ever wants to leave. She insisted on having all of the specialists come to her." That totally sounded like Janice.
“Well,” I leaned in and kissed him. “It is a pretty great town. The locals,” I kissed him again, lingering on his lips, “are very friendly.”
"I can see that." He pulled me in for a deep kiss, and I could feel him harden against my stomach. I broke our kiss and looked at him in disbelief, "I think he likes you." He shrugged.
"I like him too," I purred, and I kissed him again, parting his lips with my tongue and exploring his mouth. After a few blissful minutes of making out like teenagers, he broke our kiss.
“I have something else for you.”
“I can see that.” I gave him a sexy smile.
“Hold on,” He reached his arm up again dug into the pocket of his robe. I hoped it was more ice cream.
It wasn’t ice cream. It was a jewelry box, a shiny black cube. My jaw dropped open and kept looking from the box to Charles and back again.
“Do you want me to get down on one knee?” I shook my head. I was suddenly unable to speak. My head was spinning.
"I had this designed for you the day after I saw you, the day I decided to buy the company." I could feel the tears streaming down my cheeks, "I thought it would take a lot longer to give it to you, but when I almost lost you yesterday, I knew I didn’t want to waste another minute without you. I’m ready to start my life with you. I don’t have a life without you.” He opened the box. It was large sapphire set in platinum. I’d never seen a ring like it. It was beautiful. He slipped in on my fingers. I wiggled my fingers back and forth watching it glitter as the light caught it.
“So is that a yes?”
I grabbed his face and kissed it, raising myself up positioning the head of his cock at my entrance before slowly lowering my self on to him. He groaned in pleasure, gripped my hips with his massive hands and slowly guided me up and down.
“I’m gonna take that as a yes.”
THE END
Also by Lucy Eden
Capturing the Goddess
Conquering the Goddess
Gaia
I’ve never been a nanny before, but I’ve always loved children. I’m actually an artist, well, an art student. My professor/ mentor recommended me for a job as a nanny for one of her friends. She knew I could use the money and I was grateful for the opportunity.
I threw on what I hoped looked professional; a crisp white blouse, a black pencil skirt and a pair of black leather pumps. I tamed my waist length brown hair into a feasibly polished looking bun and traded my usual contacts for my glasses to complete the ensemble.
I arrived with ten minutes to spare and rang the door of a large townhouse in the historic district. A very serious looking man in his sixties opened the door.
“Miss Wesley.” He said, before I had the chance to open my mouth. It was a statement not a question. “Mr. Edwards is expecting you. Right this way.”
Mr. Edwards, I thought to myself, and at that very moment realized that I did zero research on my possible future employer. I didn’t even know his name. As I followed my guide through the house, I desperately studied my surroundings hoping to learn something, anything about the family that was about to possibly trust me with their children, or child, I didn’t know.
The house was impeccably decorated but surprisingly colorful and who ever Mr. Edwards was he had amazing taste in art. The walls were adorned with and eclectic mix classic an contemporary pieces including works by Basquiat, Haring, what I would swear was an actual Monet, and sitting on a small table in one of the many sitting rooms was what looked like a Kusama pumpkin. How in the world would someone get a Kusama pumpkin for their house…then it hit me: Mr. Edwards, the giant townhouse, and the massive collection of priceless art, both contemporary and classic. This was the home of Trevor Edwards.
Trevor
When my long-time colleague and friend, Victoria Swenson, recommended one of her students to help me care for my children, I was quite resistant to the idea. It had been five years since I’d lost my wife and the thought of putting myself through the hiring process for something so intimate as childcare was not an idea I relished. Olivia had hired our children’s first nanny and Mrs. Bast had remained with us for years. She cared for us during Olivia’s illness and guided the children and I through our grief. Six months ago, she decided to retire and help her daughter raise her grandchildren. Naturally, Liam and Eloise were devastated and I was beside myself. Losing Edna would be like losing Olivia all over again. She had handpicked Edna Bast from dozens of applicants and she was the only mother figure the children had known. How could I possible hope to replace her? Running a billion dollar corporation was easy. There was no emotion involved. I could hire and fire at will, but choosing a person to help raise your children, without input from their mother, whom they’d barely known was quite another story. I offered Mrs. Bast an embarrassing amount of money to stay on but she refused, insisting that I was ready and was perfectly capable of finding the right person. She specifically said the word “person” not nanny.
When Frederick led Miss Wesley into my study, I wasn’t sure what I was expecting but it wasn’t her. For starters, she was beautiful, possibly the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. She was dressed demurely, but I could instantly tell it was a facade. She gave the impression of young woman trying to appear older and more sophisticated, but when she fixed her eyes on me I sensed something of a wild, untamed spirit. I felt something awaken inside me and I wanted nothing more in that moment than to possess her. I felt myself getting rock hard as I imagined crossing the room in long strides, ripping her blouse open sending buttons scattering across the floor and burying my face in soft fragrant skin of her breasts. I hadn’t felt this way before and it was confusing. I pushed it out of my mind and focused on the task at hand.
I dismissed Fredrick, took a seat at my desk to hide my massive erection and motioned for Miss Wesley to take a seat. I could tell by the way she moved that she was untouched. How she managed to remain a virgin for twenty-three years, five of which in art school was beyond me but she had the unmistakable walk of a maiden. If I had my way, that wouldn’t last. I had asked Victoria not to reveal my identity to her prospect, but I could immediately tell by her expression that she had worked out who I was, but absent from her face was the usual opportunistic hunger that the women I’d come in contact with over the years unsuccessfully tried to hide in the presence of a single grieving billionaire with two young children. The look on Miss Wesley’s face told me she wanted nothing from me and in that moment I wanted to give her everything.
Read More…
Athena
My very first assignment and I was running late. It was my first real job out of grad school, and I'd worked my ass off to get here.
One would think that after graduating at the top of my class in undergrad and earning a master's degree by the age of twenty-three, I'd have my pick of job offers. There were only three: content editor for a mommy blog, beat reporter for a celebrity gossip rag and the one I chose, junior features writer for Capital Exchange magazine, a decades-old finance magazine looking to revamp its image and stay relevant by hiring young journalists. It was quite obvious that I was a token hire, and much wasn't expected of me, but I was determined to work hard and prove them wrong.
Choosing Capital Exchange wasn't about the money. Frankly, the mommy blog offered me more, but if I wanted to be taken seriously, so home facials and the top ten strollers for twins wasn't the place to start my career.
I finally
reached The Strathmore at precisely ten am, but I still needed time to get to the offices on the 42nd floor which meant I was late. I cursed myself as I dug my driver's license and press credentials out of my messenger bag to show the security detail before being directed to the elevator bank which contained a least a dozen elevators. My head started to swim.
"Type your floor number on the keypad, and an elevator will open!" called the security guard from the desk. He must have seen my frustration and took pity. I found the keypad, typed in the number forty-two, heard a ding and saw the third elevator on the left open with my intended floor number flashing overhead. I rushed inside, had barely stepped in when the doors slammed shut and zoomed upward. It came to an abrupt stop, and the doors slid open.
I rushed through the open elevator, through the glass doors reading Winters International Corporation and stopped at a large half-moon shaped desk where a half of a dozen receptionists sat busily fielding calls and typing into keyboards.
"Hi!" I called, a little more frantically than I hoped. One of them looked up. "I'm…"
“Athena Anderson.” A stern looking woman in her late fifties called to me. She must have been standing by the desk the entire time, but I hadn’t noticed. “Mr. Winters is expecting you. You’re late.” I glanced at my watch. It read 10:04 am.
"I know, I'm sorry I just…" the rest of the sentence got lost as I stopped myself. My father was an Army lieutenant general and never had an ounce of tolerance for lateness. There were no excuses, you were either on time, or you weren't. Today, I wasn't.
