by Katy Kaylee
Oh, I did. But I also felt his hand. Wide, warm and seeking, they roved over me until going to my hips, where they pulled my skirt up bit by bit.
An impressive feat considering how much I was sitting on it, but I didn’t comment. My eyes were locked on the woman belting out some verse about how she had been wronged and my body was flush with what was happening behind me.
I could feel his need for me pressing up into my backside, hot and insistent. It was intoxicating to think that was because of me and the music below, both of our influences making his body react in such a visible way. It was easy to see how a girl could become addicted to this power. Fitz was an imposing, dominant, intelligent man who had a whole empire, but it was me who could make him drop everything and drown in lust.
His wandering fingers found my center, and I heard his breath hitch. So maybe I hadn’t worn any panties because I didn’t want visible lines through my dress. I hadn’t done it with the intention that the digits of one hand would gently tease at my clitoris while his other hand teased at my entrance.
But that was exactly what he was doing, and between his skill and the music and everything else, I was wetter than a water slide in just a few moments.
“That’s my girl,” Fitz muttered darkly, and those words made me jolt. I wasn’t sure if it was because of the implicit praise or the way it sounded like he was aching for me, but that didn’t matter. What did matter was that his hands left me, and I could feel him shifting under me to pull at his zipper.
We didn’t have a condom, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. I’d been on birth control since I was sixteen to calm down my period’s habit of throwing out my back and making me upchuck anything I ate, so it wasn’t like there was a risk of pregnancy, but there was something so much more intimate about him behind inside me without that little layer of latex. I remembered always swearing to myself that I would double up on protection -after all, birth control only prevented pregnancy, not STDs- but I knew that Fitz was clean and obviously I was too considering he was the only one who had ever touched me.
And boy, did he know how to touch me. Two of his fingers slid into me, pumping slowly before gathering as much wetness as they could and pulling out. I was mystified at his goal for a moment, caught up in the music and everything else, but then I heard him slicking himself up behind me.
Oh.
The thought of his large hand wrapped around himself, smearing my wetness along his length was almost enough to make me spin out of orbit entirely, but then he was lifting me up just enough for his swollen head to press at my entrance.
I let out a gasp, because how could I not. Even after the two times we’d been together he still felt just as big. I supposed it took time to get used to such a large, foreign object invading my body, but I didn’t have time to think about it before he was sliding in.
He took his time, he really did, but there was only so much I could stretch in our situation. I was flooded with pleasure, but at the same time there was a straining sort of burn that lit me up from my center all the way up to my throat.
I groaned, that euphoria and discomfort welling up at the same time, but he just put his hand over my mouth, allowing me to nip and suck at his fingers to distract myself. I could still smell myself on them, then taste myself, and it made everything he was doing to me that much sharper.
He thrust, I cried out into his hand, and the music jumped up several notches as the woman below laid out her plans in some language I didn’t know. I read in the program that this was where she told the audience just how her revenge was going to go, but the details were fuzzy beyond that. All there was, was Fitz, me, and what he was doing to my body.
He thrust into me like a man possessed and I took it. Greedily so. I wanted all of him. The pleasure, the stretch, the burn. His fingers dug into my hips and I hoped that there would be bruises in my pale skin the next day. Proving that he wanted me. Me! Of all people.
I could only hold onto the arms of the chairs as he pistoned me up and down. I could tell that the song was coming to an end and so was he, but I wasn’t quite there myself yet.
“Please,” I heard myself whine into his palm.
“Tell me what you need, baby girl.” His voice was doing that thing again. The thing where it made me throb from head to toe.
Baby Girl…I loved it when he called me that.
“More,” I panted, still unable to formulate a full sentence when he was so deep within me.
And he gave me more. His arm snaked around my front and slid around my apex. The pressure was almost too much, and I jerked my hips up into his fingers frantically. I was faintly aware of him chuckling behind me, then his teeth set into my shoulder in a love bite that would definitely be visible in my dress.
That was just what I needed, apparently, because then I was coming undone around him, the world dissolving into a spectacle of light and beautiful sound. There was a high-pitched keen that I was certain was myself until I remembered that Fitz’ fingers were definitely in my mouth. It was only after wave after wave of my orgasm washed over me that I realized it was the opera singer hitting her final note, a powerful and long cry that reverberated through my body.
Right when her vibrato was hitting its fullest, I felt Fitz jerk several times in me, his thrusts losing all their rhythm until he was spilling out his own orgasm.
Huh, I guess all three of us finished together.
Eventually her powerhouse of a note ended, leaving Fitz and I just panting there raggedly. I couldn’t move, too drunk on my body’s own happy chemicals, and I just sagged back against him.
Although everything was still so new, shiny and definitely overwhelming, I kind of had a feeling that I could get used to it. Wouldn’t that be something?
Fitz
“Breathe, sweetheart, you have to remember to breathe.”
There was the tiniest little groan from under my desk and then Bev’s warm mouth was wrapping around me again, her tongue licking at my needy head like it was a lollypop.
I held onto the edge of my desk, possibly the only thing keeping me from grabbing either side of her head and thrusting into that perfect, sinful little mouth like I wanted to. I had come to work expecting a lot of things to get done, but for one I wasn’t one of them.
Bev seemed to have other ideas, however, and that was how she ended up kneeling under my desk, giving me the most earnest blow job I had ever had.
Needless to say, life was going pretty amazingly. I felt more alive than ever, noticing and appreciating things all around me that I normally didn’t have time for. I woke up every morning looking forward to that day’s events instead of feeling like I had to slug through them for some payoff way on down the line.
It helped that Bev was letting me take charge of her sexual education with all the fervor that one might expect from a straight A student. It’d been a week since the opera and she was over at my house almost every other night. Some nights I just went down on her, relishing how she came apart at my mouth and I would spend myself by my own hand across her naked body. Sometimes I would take her, growing less and less gentle with each time.
Not that Bev didn’t deserve all the gentleness in the world, but she was voracious. Always begging for more, and harder. How could I deny her, always looking so ravished and thoroughly fucked across my dark sheets? I couldn’t.
But for all our fooling around, for all that I had taught her about my body, what she was doing under my desk was entirely new.
She wasn’t an expert, by any means, and I heard her gag more than a few times as she tested how deep she could take me. But her hand was wrapped around my base, trying to meet her mouth as she bobbed on me, and I was doing just fine.
She pulled back once more and laved along my length, the long flat of her tongue making my whole body burn like it was on fire. I didn’t know how that could possibly be a pleasant sensation, but it was.
“God, baby, you’re going to be the death of me.”
She hum
med happily, and it was hard not to lose myself right then and there. Why was everything with her so much brighter? Sharper? Even touching her seemed more intense than I could possible handle, and yet there I was, holding onto my desk with my dick in her mouth.
I couldn’t resist any longer. One of my hands slid below the wooden surface of my desk and found the professional bun that always sat on top of her head whenever we were in the office. Tugging at it, I managed to pull her long, dark waves from it and bury my fingers in the tresses.
She handed control over to me so easily, groaning while I shuttled her up and down my length. I didn’t understand why she trusted me so implicitly, but it filled me with a warmth I wasn’t used to. A warmth that sort of filled my chest and made me feel more secure, more confident than I had ever been before.
Another little groan escaped her swollen lips, distorted around my manhood. I knew what she was asking for though. Like usual, she wanted more. Faster. Harder. The little virgin that I had somehow been lucky enough to seduce wanted to push her limits as far as she could.
I obliged her, pulling her down more, thrusting in a bit stronger. I never wanted to hurt her. The very thought made me want to crawl up inside of myself and disappear. But I couldn’t help but want to give her whatever she asked of me. Demanded of me, in that submissive, wide eyed way of hers.
It didn’t take long before I was about to reach my end, so I gripped her hair tightly and pulled her back. “I’m gonna-”
But she just nodded, letting out a little hiccup before engulfing me in her mouth and swallowing as much as she could of me.
“Shit!”
I nearly doubled over my desk as I spilled into her, feeling her swallow everything, I gave her. When it was over, I fell back against my chair panting, and she slowly emerged from under my desk looking pleased with myself.
God, she looked so beautiful like that. Her cheeks were flushed from her efforts and her lips were slick from our activity and slightly puffy. If she had been born in another time, there would have been chapel ceilings and statues made in her image, an homage to a goddess clearly stranded among mortals.
Actually, that wasn’t a bad idea. I could probably commission an artist to make a sculpture of her. Of course, it could never do her justice, but I wouldn’t mind having a reminder of her when she wasn’t around to worship.
“I’ll go get your lunch,” she said, wiping the corner of her mouth with a napkin that had been sitting on my desk before striding out.
Her words brought me out of my musing, reality crashing in like a cold wave. What was I thinking? Building a statue of her? That was ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous. That was something eccentric billionaires did with someone they lov-
No.
No.
I wasn’t allowed to think that word. What Bev and I had was just sex. Mind blowing, educational and incredibly hot sex. There were no feelings beyond our mutual admiration for each other.
I was not in love.
I hadn’t made it into my forties just to get all doe-eyed and slacked jawed by my assistant. I wasn’t going to be a trope like that.
Abruptly all of the warm, fuzzy feelings I had were gone and I stared down at my hands. There were still a few strands of black hair wrapped around my fingers, a reminder that I was letting her bind me up far too easily.
Shit. I hadn’t even realized how far I had slipped. Everything had just felt so good and the sounds she made… well, they made me forget anything and everything else.
My door opened, and Bev returned with the lunch we had ordered. Either they had been holding it at the front desk or our timing had been impeccable. Not that it mattered, because then Bev was marching right up to my desk and sitting on the end of it, right next to me, as she placed the meal in front of me.
“Did… did I do alright?” she asked, the nervousness in her tone reminding me that even a modern day Aphrodite could have some insecurities.
“Yeah. You did fine,” I said shortly, closing my eyes against the after image of exactly what she had done. I didn’t want to get hard again. I needed time to think, to gather myself.
“Oh… okay. Are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” I answered quickly. Too quickly. Since when had I lost all my smoothness, my charm? “I just realized I forgot several correspondences that were important.” I looked to her with what I hoped was a reasonably polite expression. “Why don’t you do your normal runner’s tasks while I get caught up?”
“Uh, I… alright. I can do that.”
She slid off my desk and I could almost see the uncertainty in the air around her, but I couldn’t allow myself to comfort her. No, doing that would have me sliding back in and then I wouldn’t know which way was up or down again. I’d just been drowning in everything that she was and my hindbrain wanted her to be.
She left, and I sagged in my chair, thinking. We were just sex. That was it. Sex. It couldn’t be anything more than that because I didn’t believe in anything other than that. I was never going to marry. Never be a couple. Because that was stupid.
But if that was true, why was my gut twisting so hard? Like I was denying myself something I needed more than anything else?
No. That was stupid. It was probably just something I ate.
Bev
I was confused.
I was also probably leaning towards a little hurt.
But mostly confused.
Fitz was avoiding me.
At first, I thought it was just in my head, because we worked together after all, but after a few days and a weekend without so much as a text from him, my brain put two and two together and I realized he was giving me the cold shoulder.
“Oh hey, Bev. He got you doing grunt work down here?” I recognized the voice of Donella, a one of the lovely managers that worked a floor above Chris. She was in charge of wardrobe, if I remembered right.
I pulled my head from the fridge that was cleaning and nodded. “You know how it is, there’s always something that needs done around here.”
“I dunno,” the woman retorted. “The way I hear it, if you were allowed to work more overtime then this whole building would be ahead of schedule and wrapped up with a bow.”
“Oh, well I don’t know about that,” I said with what I hoped was a warm smile.
But it didn’t reach my eyes. How could it. The reason I was doing so much work outside of Fitz’ office was because he had started locking his door.
That had been a particularly unpleasant shock. I’d walked towards his office Monday morning after the weekend where he hadn’t talked to me at all only to find the door shut fast. When I used the intercom, he said he was occupied and would email me my tasks.
And that was what he continued to do. I didn’t even see him lately, only communicating through email and it hurt me more than I ever thought it would.
“Are you alright?” Donella asked, stepping a bit closer and I realized I had let my expression get to my face.
“Oh yeah, sorry. The wipes I use sometimes make my eyes sting. Anyways, I’m gonna finish up. Wasting electricity with the door open and all that.”
“Ah, right. Of course.”
She tottered off, no doubt with her own important list of things to do and I stuck my upper body right back into the break room fridge to continue cleaning.
I just felt so awful.
I had told myself that it was stupid to get involved with my boss. And then I had told myself that it was just sex and I needed to be practical about it.
But then he had to go and ignore me, and I was faced with just how much bullshit I had fed myself.
What had I done wrong? Did he think I was fat? Ugly? I would think that he had just gotten tired of me, but the transition had been so sudden from him being seemingly mad about me to mad at me was far too sudden.
I didn’t know, and it was making me absolutely miserable. Would it be so wrong to ask for an explanation? I thought that we were friends at least, and wouldn’t a friend tell me to
my face that he wasn’t really interested anymore? Wasn’t that what adults did? They broke up with each other and moved on to their next friend with benefits? I didn’t know, but I felt like I deserved at least that much.
But it wasn’t like I could tell Fitz that over the intercom, so I just kept on cleaning the fridge. Maybe that was all that I was good for anyways.
One thing I’d been told since my first foster family was that I had a temper. Normally I could keep it tramped down with logic and determination, but as more days passed, it burned hotter and hotter until I felt like I was a lit firecracker that was just waiting to explode.
I started messing up at my job on purpose. Dropping things. Forgetting things. Anything to make Fitz pay attention to me.
But he didn’t.
He wouldn’t even take the food I delivered to him, instead having me drop it at one of the secretaries’ desk. I had never thought that just a simple exile from his company could be so cruel, but every day it wore on me more and more until that hurt just turned to outright anger.
I gave him my virginity! I signed a stupid fucking contract for him! I called him…Daddy! Okay, I loved being his baby girl!
But didn’t all of that afford me at least a little bit of closure?
Sure, maybe I had been stupid enough to daydream that there could be something more between us, that my ill-advised tryst could have some longevity to it. That was on me. But what wasn’t on me was him locking me out in the cold and effecting my job. Hadn’t that been what the whole NDA business had been about? Making sure neither of us were negatively affected -at least professionally.
I couldn’t handle it anymore. I wasn’t a girl who let things just lie. I either conquered or defeated every problem I ever had and at the moment, Fitz was giving me a real problem.
Letting out an angered noise, I grabbed my laptop and logged into the software that let me connect to work. I pulled up Fitz’ social calendar, one I hadn’t needed to look at since he shut me out, and I saw that he was at a grand opening of a new theater. It wasn’t a big press event, but it was important enough that I knew he would be here.
