I squeeze my thighs together, my panties grinding against the growing wetness, my clit so sensitive it feels like it could burst into flames.
“Is there something I can do?” I whisper. “For you? Please let me, Solomon.”
His eyes go hard.
His smirk is a suggestion at the corners of his mouth.
“Eat your food first,” he growls. “I don’t want to spend my seed anywhere but in your pussy, but—fuck, Sophia. I’d be a madman to pass up an offer like that.”
My stomach warbles and my clit fires even hotter.
What the heck is he going to do to me once we’re done with dinner?
CHAPTER TWELVE
Solomon
I walk down the hallway with my hand on the small of her back, feeling the top of her ass in that damn red dress. Her thighs are red and flushed from her anticipation, as red-hot as the need shivering through me.
I’ll have to control myself and only go as far as she wants me to.
It’s going to be one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.
My balls are weighty and tense and flooded with the need for release.
She glances at me, biting her lip in that mind-fucking way.
“Where are we going?” she asks, her voice cute and inquisitive and full of virginal naivety.
I smirk, sliding my hand down an inch further, squeezing her ass. Her features shift and dance with her want.
“Wherever the fuck I want,” I tell her.
On and on – down the golden wallpaper lined hallway – I take her away from the top floor restaurant and to a door at the other side of the building. I touch a hidden button on the wall and the thumb pad appears, appearing in a slot in the wallpaper.
She giggles, nudging me in the side.
“Are you sure you’re a businessman and not a spy?”
I chuckle, but it comes out strangled and hungry. Her perfume washes over me and mixes with her just-Sophia scent, her womb lingering beneath it all, tempting me.
A primal part of me roars that I should just take her here, properly take her.
Even if she says she’s not ready, once she feels the engorged helm of my cock inch deeper and deeper into her untouched sex, she’ll open up for me and take everything I have to give.
But I meant what I said to her.
I want her to be ready.
I want it to be perfect.
The door clicks and opens inward, the automatic lights flicking on to reveal a sleek stylish office. An oak desk sits against one wall and there are cream couches along another. There are no windows in here, just ventilation to keep the air fresh and clean smelling.
“Your home away from home?” she asks, as I guide her ahead of me.
“Exactly,” I tell her. “Sometimes my office can get a little too hectic for me to think. Sometimes I just want to disappear. And I have places like this where I can take a breath away from it all.”
I close the door behind me and hear it lock with a mechanical click.
She turns to face me, still biting her lip, sending surges up and down my body, deep to the base of my cock.
“Bend over on the desk,” I tell her firmly.
“Solomon—”
“Making you come drives me fucking insane,” I growl. “Now bend over and get ready to squirt for me. No arguments.”
She whimpers at the sternness of my words, but I can tell she likes it when I take control. She wants to be a good virgin and do what her man tells her.
She wants to please me just as badly as I need to please her.
My eyes are drawn to her calves and her thighs, shifting as she walks over to the desk.
She bends over slowly, the fabric of her dress pulling taut over those plump, juicy ass cheeks.
Every part of me begins to tremble as I stalk forward, pausing just short of her ass. She pushes her hips out, presenting me with that round ass as though we’re living in a bygone era and this is a pagan offering.
My cock presses so hard against the inside of my pants, the zipper starts to strain and bulge with the pressure.
“You better cream quickly,” I growl. “I need to explode. You’re fucking killing me, you tight needy little minx.”
“Hmm,” she moans, shifting her cheeks from side to side in a way that hypnotizes me.
“Is that hmm-yes, or hmm-no?” I growl.
“Yes, yes,” she cries.
“Fucking say it, then,” I snap.
“I’ll come quickly,” she moans.
“Good girl,” I growl.
I reach forward and grab her bare thigh, feeling the heat of her lust setting her skin afire. She shivers and pushes back against me. Every move she makes brims with both confidence and nervousness, as though she can’t decide which half of herself to listen to.
I slide my hand up, pushing her dress up with the movement, revealing her panties.
My cock pulses.
Her panties are hot pink, the fabric showing wet spots where her lust is running away with her.
Fuck—oh, fuck.
They’re completely soaked around her hole, the wetness seeping into the fabric and spreading.
“You’re soaked,” I snarl.
“Sorry,” she moans, as I inch higher and higher, skirting closer to her sex.
“Why are you sorry?” I ask.
“I don’t know,” she says, with a cute-as-hell giggle. “Is it a bad thing?”
“It’s perfect, you tight horny thing,” I growl. “Now be a good virgin and stick that ass out even more.”
“Like this?” she asks, arching her back so that her panties pull tightly across her hole, letting me see even more of the soaked material.
“Exactly like that,” I breathe huskily.
I push her panties aside and circle her hole with my middle finger and then – when her panting and moaning becomes too much to handle – I slide my finger up to the knuckle.
She’s soaked, boiling hot inside, and her plump ass cheeks move around my hand, making it look as though my finger disappears.
She vibrates on the end of my finger, looking over her shoulder with her hair sideways across her face.
She looks vulnerable and sexy and ready to give me whatever I want to take.
But then something shifts in her eyes and she shakes her head, only slightly.
It’s enough to let me know what she’s thinking.
Not yet. Let’s just do this for now.
I let out a growl and start to fuck her tight hole with my finger so hard and fast she bucks against the desk, pulsing against my finger, bouncing up and down so that my knuckles smash into her ass cheeks and make her needy flesh red.
“You’re so fucking tight around my finger,” I growl. “I can’t wait to feel how tight you are on my dick. Are you going to cream for me soon, baby?”
“Yes, yes,” she moans, her hole fluttering gorgeously.
I lean down and bring my mouth close to her ear as I continue to fuck her cute little hole with my finger.
“Fucking cream on my hand,” I growl. “I’m so hard for you right now. I need to see how milky and shiny those big bouncy tits get covered in my come. So. Fucking. Cream.”
With each syllable, I pump my hand even harder, pushing my finger deeper into her desperate, hungry hole.
She gasps and turns her face toward me, aiming for a kiss. She ends up mashing her mouth against my cheek as she lets out an orgiastic cry of release, her pussy getting even tighter as it gathers up all her pent-up energy.
I stand up and stare down at my hand, absolutely soaked with her thick white squirting come.
I stand back and yank down my pants with my other hand, doing it so violently my belt snaps and my button goes flying.
“On your knees,” I snap. “Now, Sophia. Get those tits out.”
My massive cock springs up, all eleven-some inches of it bulging with veins and tension and withheld desire. I bring my other hand to the helm, mixing her thick white cream with my precome,
stroking it up and down the length so that my entire meaty cock is glistening with our combined juices.
She turns and lowers herself to her knees, looking at me with those fuck-me eyes.
“You’re so big,” she murmurs, staring captivated. “How will I ever—”
“Enough talk,” I growl, letting out the hungry monster inside of me, the beast I’ll only ever show to my lady. “Get your creamy virgin tits out. Now.”
She gasps and then grabs the front of her dress, pulling it down and adjusting it so that her ample breasts spill free.
I stare for long a moment as if my eyes are unable to process the full curvaceous beauty of what I’m seeing.
Her breasts are large and round and have a delicious droop to them, and yet her nipples are hard at the same time, making her look fertile and already full of milk.
She’s so damn womanly, so natural, so real.
I feel like a real fucking beast as my eyes track a few of her purple veins, bulging as if her body can’t wait to give herself to me.
“I know they’re—”
“They’re perfect,” I growl. “Now stroke my dick with one hand and pinch your needy pert nipples with the other. And if you even think about talking bad about yourself again, I’m going to spank you until you’re crying tears of pure fucking release.”
“Like this?” she moans, reaching out with her small delicate hand.
She grips the base of my cock and I let out a groan, staring at how tender her grip looks around my girth.
“And—your—tits,” I snarl. “Moan for me.”
She brings her other hand to her engorged nipple, twisting it and pinching it softly.
“Faster,” I growl.
My little virgin is a quick learner, pumping her fist up and down my cock, squeezing so hard I can imagine the heat of her palm is her creamy hole.
I move my gaze to her reddening nipples, to the way her fingers twist and tickle around them, making them harder and perkier with each moment.
The movement of her pumping hand causes her breasts to jiggle and dance for me, my mind twisting in savage ways as I take in the full majesty of my woman’s body.
“Who—do you—belong—to?” I growl, my words choked as everything inside of me starts to hone down to the very tip of my cock, an intimate buzzing and hum at the tip of my manhood growing and expanding so that every massive inch of me is drenched in her hand’s heat.
“You, baby,” she moans, staring up at me with those soulful eyes. “I’ll always belong to you. Only you. Only you.”
“Aim my dick at your tits,” I growl. “I need to mark you.”
She arches her back and keeps pumping her hand, my length hotter and hotter each moment.
When my release comes, it’s like I’ve been waiting all my life to feel this universe-sizzling heat inside of me, everything writhing up my length. My come shoots out in hot jets onto her breasts, spilling down their ample roundness, droplets of it clinging to her nipples as she keeps pumping her little hand.
“Good fucking girl,” I snarl, my breathing ragged. “Now rub it in.”
“Like this?” she murmurs, smoothing her hands over her tits, making her nipples glisten, making every round inch of me blaze with desire.
Afterward, we lie on the couch and I cradle her in my arms, moving my hands up and down her body. I have to be careful to do it idly, to not let the irrepressible desire become too strong and overpower my self-control. Everything in me roars to take her, to claim her like she deserves to be claimed.
“Am I going to wake up from this dream yet?” she murmurs, her voice sleepy as we sink deeper and deeper into the couch.
“Do you want to?” I ask.
“No,” she says. “Not even a little bit. I just wish …”
She trails off, but it’s not difficult to fill in the gap.
I just wish Caitlin wasn’t your daughter.
“Things were simpler?” I offer.
“Yeah,” she sighs. “But we’ll make it work, Solomon, won’t we?”
“I swear,” I tell her firmly. “One day, we’re going to have a house full of happy children. Maybe some of them will be artists, like you. Maybe some of them will be wild men like me. Whatever the case, they’re going to be happy and loved, and they’re never going to have to doubt that they belong. We’re going to give them that. We belong together.”
“I’ve always wanted to be with you,” she says. “But the reality is so much more complicated.”
“Do you want a life together?” I ask her, my voice husky and intense.
“Yes,” she says, shivering against me, her ass cheeks grinding against my manhood and starting me on the road to savagery again.
“Then everything is going to be okay.”
“Promise?” she whispers.
“I promise,” I tell her firmly. “It’s me and you now, Sophia. Forever.”
I chuckle grimly.
“I mean—shit. Do you really think I could lay eyes on those gorgeous tits of yours and walk away to let another man claim them?”
She giggles as I move my hand over her belly, trailing tickling fingers.
“Soon,” I tell her, “there’s going to be a baby in here. And we’ll look back on this and laugh at how much we worried.”
She brings her hand to mine, pressing it more firmly against her belly.
“I trust you,” she whispers. “I—”
I love you.
Is that what she was going to say?
I will her to say it so that I can say it in return.
But then she falls silent and I can’t be sure.
I bite down on the admission.
I don’t want to risk scaring her away, not now when she means so much to me.
“I’m going to be busy over the next few days,” I tell her, regret twisting my words and making them sound more like an animal’s growl. “I’ve got business to attend to at the UK office. But I swear, the second I return, you’re the first person I’m going to see. And I know I’m going to go crazy thinking about you when I’m over there.”
“Just business, yeah?” she murmurs.
“Just business,” I growl passionately. “I’d die before I so much as looked at another woman. Sophia, you need to know something. Just now, what we did, it’s the first time I’ve done anything with a woman in almost twenty years.”
“What?” she gasps, sitting up and staring down at me with her brown hair tussled across her face. “You’re kidding me, right?”
I smirk. “Nope, not even a little bit. Why would I? I never had reason to before I met you before you set something alight inside of me that won’t ever be extinguished. So don’t you see? I’d never do anything with another woman. You’re the only woman for me.”
I reach up and smooth dark strands of hair from her face, smoothing it behind her ear.
“If you want, we can …”
She trails off, voice wavering. I can tell she’s only saying it because she thinks it’s what I want to hear.
“Don’t do that,” I tell her. “You don’t have to pretend with me. You don’t have to warp yourself into what you think I want you to be. Just be, Sophia. That’s all I ever need from you. Well, that and complete fucking obedience when my cock is rock hard inside you. And a promise that you’ll never act inappropriately with another man.”
“Never,” she moans, touching my hand.
I smirk. “Then we’ve got nothing to worry about.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Sophia
The next few days without Solomon are like having a piece of my heart removed. Even as I think the words, something flashes awake inside of me, telling me I’m being melodramatic and it makes no sense.
You’ve only been intimate a few times. You hardly know each other.
The words try to make themselves real in my mind, try to hammer the message home, and yet they feel like empty air, attached to no meaning.
I can’t lie to myself and say that just be
cause what Solomon and I have isn’t conventional, I don’t feel it.
Caitlin is busy with college work, so I don’t see much of her. We talk on the phone here and there.
With every conversation, I feel the revelation trying to bubble up on my lips, trying to explode and tell her the truth. But then I imagine her screaming at me or, worse, the line going dead.
Maybe she’ll send me a text moments after the call is done.
I never want to see you again.
I check my phone every morning for a text or a call from Solomon. Even if we haven’t officially exchanged numbers, I know it’d be easy for him to access the employee database and get my cell. But all I get instead are Facebook notifications and emails and all the other boring things that have nothing to do with the man of my dreams.
It’s hard to focus today, sitting at my desk as I look down at my work. I’m sketching out a border for a water-relief appeal in a magazine. They want the waves to roll together, to imply crashing and mayhem, but at the same time to come into some sort of unified order.
Just like me and Solomon, then, I hope.
Crashing, turbulent … but, in the end, we’ll find a calm stretch of ocean that’s just ours and everything will be perfect.
I sigh and open the drawer, glancing at my phone to see if Solomon has called or texted.
When I see that he hasn’t, I try to forcefully remind myself that what we shared in that private office – when we were lying together on the couch, enveloped in each other’s warmth – meant something.
He wasn’t lying to me.
He wasn’t tricking me.
“You don’t have to be so sneaky about it, you know,” Hermione laughs.
I close my drawer and look up into her smiling face.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur. “I know I shouldn’t be checking it.”
“You can look at your phone as much as you like, as long as you turn in your best work at the end of the day.”
I let out a sigh of relief.
The last thing I need is to sabotage myself.
This job is opening new doors for me, both in my career and in my artistic progression. For the first time in years, I feel like I’ve got a reason to pursue my passion beyond the satisfaction of the work itself.
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