“Yes?” I purred.
“Do that… tease me… here,” he said, and pointed at the bulge in his pants.
Oh GOD yes.
I reached for his zipper – but again, he stopped me.
“Outside my pants,” he ordered.
I grinned at him, then slowly lowered my head a few inches.
This guy REALLY has a thing for foreplay…
I started with my fingers, tracing the bulging outline through the cloth.
Good Lord he’s big, I thought idly as I began to caress the shaft.
Then I moved down and kissed it.
He moaned.
Okay, I’m on the right track.
As my fingers softly moved back and forth, I parted my lips and ran them along his entire length, pressing them firmly against his manhood. Beneath the cloth, he was extremely hard. ‘Wood’ was never more accurate a description.
His hands gripped the seat of his chair as I tickled and teased and caressed him. As I did so, my feelings of power increased – but also my desire. It was verging on severely uncomfortable.
I had to get him inside me soon, or I felt like I was going to die.
Suddenly, his hands grabbed mine and pulled them away.
I looked up into his face. What I saw both frightened and aroused me even more.
He looked half-insane with desire, a deep scowl knitting his brows.
“Get up,” he ordered me roughly.
I stood up, a little scared.
He got up from the chair, pressed my body tight against his, took my face between his hands, and kissed me.
WHAM.
That’s what it felt like as a wave of fierce passion rolled over me. My legs almost gave out from under me as his mouth pressed roughly against mine, his tongue parting my lips, penetrating me, caressing my own tongue, his urgent need burning through the touch of his hands, his fevered kiss, the solid weight of his erection pressing against my stomach.
Oh God I wanted him so badly.
His hands traveled down my body – not light and soft, but hard and frenzied. He grabbed my ass, pulling my pelvis tight against him.
I was burning up in his arms, about to faint.
I broke away from his kiss, my hands pressing against his bare chest.
He stared at me, confused and still scowling, though I knew it was desire and not really anger.
“Take me,” I begged him. “Take me now.”
Suddenly, that grin came back.
Like he knew he had me.
Like he knew he’d won.
Then the grin faded back to dead seriousness.
“No,” he whispered, and shook his head. “Not yet.”
17
He took me by the hand and pulled me roughly towards the nearest window. Or should I say, the nearest full-length wall of glass. Outside, the lights of LA glowed softly in the darkness.
“What – ?” I started to ask, but he answered by positioning me two feet away from and facing the glass. Then he stepped behind me.
I was about to ask again what the hell was going on when I felt his fingers between my shoulder blades.
The clasp came undone and my bra loosened. He nuzzled my neck, and I gasped with pleasure and closed my eyes. As his lips grazed the edge of my ear, he slid the straps off my shoulders, and my bra slipped to the floor.
His muscular arms reached around me, engulfing me. His warm skin pressed against me, slid softly across mine. I felt the firmness of his chest and stomach next to my back, and the hardness of his manhood pressing against my backside.
Then his hands reached up under my breasts, cupping them, supporting them, caressing them. I moaned as he played with their weight, then brushed his fingertips around the outer curves and up along the tops of my breasts. He circled slowly in towards the nipples, which he rubbed and pinched very, very lightly between his fingers, making them even more erect than before (and making me moan even louder). Then he grasped my breasts forcefully in his hands and pressed me hard against his body as he kissed my other ear.
I was almost weeping with desire and pent-up frustration.
He forcefully lifted my arms up and planted my palms against the glass, so that I was leaning forward slightly, my weight supported by my arms.
He squatted behind me and pulled my panties down to the floor. My face burned red because I knew they were soaked. I was wondering what he thought of that when I felt his hands rough against the insides of my thighs, forcing them apart. By the time he was finished, my legs were quite a bit further than hip-width apart, and my ass was sticking out in the air. I could just imagine him standing up and taking me from behind, that glorious member of his penetrating me and filling me up.
Oh God yes please PLEASE
But that’s not what happened.
I felt something warm, wet, and soft caress the inside of my thigh.
I gasped and looked over to the side.
He was still squatting between my legs… and he was licking me.
From behind.
Oh… my… GOD.
The sensations were incredible. And excruciating. His tongue was still teasing me – not even touching my… um, the main event. Just softly grazing the edges of my lips down there, and licking the place where my legs joined my torso.
I was whimpering, it felt so good.
And I desperately wanted him to lick me totally and completely, up and down, all over.
But embarrassment and self-consciousness reared up inside me. I don’t know about you, but when previous boyfriends had given me oral sex (the relatively few times they had done it, compared with how often I had done it for them), I was always on my back on a bed, and they were always lying between my legs. The missionary position of oral sex.
I had never, ever been in this position before.
All the insecure little voices in my head began whispering at once:
He’s got his head basically down near my ass!
Oh no, oh NO, what’s the view like down there?!
Oh God, how embarrassing!
Thank GOD I tidied up in the bathroom!
Do I smell okay? Is he going to be okay with how I taste?
The little voices got to be too much.
“I don’t – ” I started to say as I pressed my hands against the glass, getting ready to force myself up into a standing position.
“STOP,” he snarled.
I froze where I was.
In theory, a man crouching between your legs and giving you oral sex is probably not at his most dominant – but Connor sure was.
“I won,” he continued sternly. “Unless you absolutely hate this, let me enjoy myself.”
Well… I couldn’t say that I absolutely hated it… so I just whispered, “Okay.”
And I was rewarded with having my mind blown.
18
His tongue glided over everything at that point. All of me. Across my lips, up towards my front, and then wetly caressed my clit.
I cried out and braced myself hard against the glass as my legs trembled.
His tongue moved backwards, separating my drenched lips and plunging inside me, tickling just inside my body.
By this point, all the little voices were basically washed away by a tidal wave of pleasure.
I kept moaning over and over as he moved backwards again, his tongue sliding out of me and going backwards –
– a little too far.
WHOA.
Not all the way to the back door, but right in between.
The sensation was great, but all the little insecure voices surfaced from the ocean and started a chattering chorus again.
Oh no, he CAN’T do THAT!
This is bad, this is really bad!
You can’t do this, it’s not right!
Thankfully he slid forward again, plunged his tongue deep inside me, and the voices were silenced again as a single, short contraction of pleasure fluttered through my belly.
Then he was at my clit again, licking
and caressing it.
I felt like I was about to cry – not a bad cry, a good cry – but my body was wound up like a spring, with my hormones and emotions at a peak.
I needed him inside me.
SOON.
And then, my wish was granted… though not quite in the way I had expected.
He drew his head back, and I felt his fingers brush against my thighs.
And then, gently, slowly, I felt them sliding inside me.
I cried out, a choked sob.
“Are you okay?” he asked from somewhere behind me, his voice concerned.
“Y-yes,” I whispered, my head down, my palms braced against the glass. “Yes.”
His fingers began to move inside me – not in-and-out, but curling. Like he was stroking one spot with his fingertips.
A steady, building pressure of intense pleasure began to fill me down there. With the girth of his fingers filling me up (though not nearly as much as another part of his body might), the sensations were incredible.
Suddenly, I realized what he was doing.
Oh my God, he must be touching my G-spot!
I’d read about it. Countless articles in Cosmo. Best-sellers on sex (well, read them furtively in bookstores, but didn’t actually buy them. That would entail having the cashier know what I was reading). Blog posts.
From what I remembered, the guy was supposed to use a ‘come-hither’ curl of his fingers to hit your spot. Connor was doing that, except he was on the opposite side, so I guess it was more of a ‘go-thither’ gesture. Or the way a person says ‘hit me’ in blackjack by rubbing his cards with two fingers.
Remember, I’m not sexually experienced. Sexually well-read, yes, but not experienced. Two of my four ex-boyfriends couldn’t even find my clitoris. Three of them didn’t go down on me much (one not at all), so why would they have taken the time to find what was, to them, a mythical place that didn’t afford them any pleasure?
The fact that Connor was even attempting to do this suddenly overwhelmed me with even greater desire for him.
That, and the fact that it seemed to be working pretty well.
At this point I was a hot mess, whimpering and moaning, my body shuddering as short contractions of bliss shot from my hips up to my head and down to my toes. My elbows had collapsed and my forearms and forehead were pressed against the glass now – otherwise I would have keeled over.
I think all the noise got too much for him, because his fingers suddenly slid out of me and he stood up.
As the waves of pleasure abated, I opened my eyes and stared out at the darkness.
My first thought, as I realized I was pressed up against the glass: Oh my God, I hope there’s no one out there with binoculars.
At least the Dubai was the tallest hotel around, and we were in the penthouse.
Then I realized that the possibility someone was watching was actually turning me on.
My second thought: Why did he stop?!
I suddenly got all self-conscious again. I didn’t do anything for him! I’m being selfish! I’m just taking and not giving!
Then I heard thump, thump.
I looked over to see his shoes rolling across the floor.
Then I heard zzzziiiiip and the sound of cloth falling softly to the floor.
That was when I put two and two together and realized my wishes were about to come true.
19
I felt something glide against my ass. Soft on the surface, but incredibly hard beneath, like a lead pipe wrapped in velvet.
And radiating heat. My god, it was burning up.
And very, very large.
And thick.
My knees shook. I turned around to look at it – I wanted to see it very, very badly –
But suddenly, a hand grabbed the hair at the nape of my neck, gently but firmly, forcing my head up slightly.
Oh God…
I don’t know what it was. Nobody else had ever done that to me. If you had asked me before, I would have said I wouldn’t have liked it – somebody grabbing my hair, pulling my head?
But in the moment, as turned on as I was…
…daaaaaamn.
It was like he was totally in control of me. Dominating me. He was the Man, and I was the Woman. I was all his… and he knew it, and I knew it.
And I loved it.
I gasped.
He leaned over me as he pulled me up slightly, my arms straightening out against the glass. I could feel his erection gliding over my ass. Heat radiated off his body onto my back as his mouth came right up next to my ear.
My head was back and my eyes were closed. My entire body was trembling.
“Are you on birth control?” he whispered.
My eyes flew open.
It was a little comical. I had been expecting… I don’t know, ‘dirty talk’ or something. The question was a leeeetle bit too clinical to be sexy.
And then I felt his shaft slide across my ass, and I realized why he was asking it.
My heart thudded in my chest.
“…yes,” I whispered.
It was true. One of the only good things about working at Exerton was the awesome medical insurance benefits.
I’d had painful, irregular periods since I started at 13. I tried the pill during college, but it left me bloated and nauseated, so I quit after a few months. When I got hired at Exerton, I went for an annual exam, and my OB/GYN had suggested the NuvaRing. Worked like a charm – only had to worry about it once a month, and no side effects.
But I’d never had unprotected sex before. The three months I’d been on the pill had been between boyfriends, and I was so freaked out about getting pregnant that I’d never had sex without a condom.
The thought of him inside me without protection terrified me… and thrilled me, too.
“You’re the only one in the last eight months,” he whispered, “and I’ve been tested since then. I’m clean. But I’ll use one if you want. Do you want me to use a condom?”
I didn’t answer at first. A little voice inside me was saying, Of COURSE!
And another voice, a lot more sultry, was saying, Hell no!
Apparently he decided to give me a little preview, because I felt his hips shift back. His shaft moved away from my body – and then I felt it between my legs. Not trying to enter me, but lying flush against me, pressing against my swollen, drenched lips.
I felt him move it back and forth, slowly, his skin sliding wetly against mine.
It felt heavenly.
I moaned.
“…no,” I whispered, afraid and unsure, but wanting to know what it felt like so badly.
He froze.
“‘No’ what?” he asked, his voice concerned. “Do you want me to stop?”
I realized my answer was a little vague.
I paused, then finally said it:
“… do it without a condom,” I whispered.
“Good,” he murmured, and pulled away from my body. I felt his manhood slide away from me, too.
Then one hand grasped my left hip, and I felt the other hand brush against my thigh.
He was grasping his shaft.
He repositioned it at an angle, the tip pressing against my swollen lips…
…and then slooowly, smoothly, he slid inside me.
20
It was incredible.
The sensation of skin on skin, with nothing between us… it was so much more intimate.
Now, don’t get me wrong; back in the boardroom had been mind-blowing. Sex had never been that good for me before.
This was better.
I moaned louder and louder as he slowly moved inside me. I don’t know if it was the angle of entry, or his height or what, but as he entered me, his shaft kept stroking against the same place he had caressed with his curling fingers.
Oh my GOD it was amazing.
The pressure began to build and build. I was already on a hair-trigger from thirty minutes of foreplay and mind-games, and now the feeling of his girt
h inside me… and the long, slow, sensual pressure on my G-spot…
Within half a minute, I came.
Loudly.
Waves of pleasure racked my body. Every muscle in my core fluttered and spasmed with ecstasy, and waves of warmth and bliss pulsed through every other part of my body. My arms gave way, and I sank my forearms and head against the glass to keep from pitching forward. My legs buckled under me. The only reason I stayed standing was because Connor’s strong arms supported me around the waist, keeping me on my feet.
After the orgasm died down, I found myself with my face pressed against the glass. Not exactly the sexiest position I’ve ever found myself in… but then again, I’d never lost control like I had tonight.
There was one thing, though, that bothered me. While doggie style had been hot – and naughty (by my standards, anyway) – I wanted to look into his eyes. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted that eye-to-eye contact.
While I was awash in a sea of desire, that lack of closeness was okay. I wasn’t really thinking about it while I was moaning and screaming my head off. But I didn’t want to spend the next five or ten minutes like this, no matter how pleasurable it might be.
I wanted him.
It was as though he read my mind.
I felt him slowly leave my body as my legs wobbled beneath me.
“Did you… did you come?” I panted as I looked over my shoulder. I was genuinely shocked and surprised that he hadn’t made any noise.
“No,” he said, and firmly but gently turned me around.
Then he looked down into my eyes… and kissed me.
Slow. Soft. Sensual.
His hands caressed my skin, moving from my shoulders to the small of my back.
I swooned.
When he finally broke away, he looked me in the eyes. “Can you keep going?”
Oh HELL yes.
I nodded, not trusting myself to keep my unladylike enthusiasm out of my voice.
“Good,” he grinned, then reached down, grabbed under my ass, and lifted me into the air.
“Oh my God, what are you doing?” I gasped. He handled me like I was a doll, he was so strong – seemingly no effort on his part at all.
“Continuing the festivities,” he murmured in my ear. Bracing my thighs against his ribs, he moved one hand down, fumbled with something beneath me… and then let me slooowly settle down.
All That He Desires Page 6
