I slide my hand between his legs and clutch the ever-growing bulge in his pants. Grant bows his head and gasps, looking down at my hand as it coaxes him harder. I wet my lips, remembering my mouth wrapped around his girth last night, and how good it felt sucking and licking his velvety cock. I want to do it again, and again, and again.
Resting his hand atop my bare knee, he begins sliding it up under my skirt. As much as I’d like to have him between my lips once more, the thought of Grant reciprocating my oral pleasure causes my stomach to tighten and the wet patch between my legs to spread. It’s been so long since I’ve had a tongue down there, and to think of all the wonderful things an experienced man like Grant could do with it causes my legs to involuntarily part to give him more room to work with.
“My, my,” he whispers between tiny kisses deposited softly on my lips, “someone’s eager.”
“Shut up,” I tease, sucking in a sharp breath of air as his fingers brush ever so closer to my sex.
“Tell me what you want,” his tongue darts into my mouth. I try and grasp it to suck, but he moves faster than my beating heart.
“I want you to lick me,” I breathe. “I want your tongue all over my pussy.”
“What else?” His fingers find their way to my cunt, gently tracing the outline of my cleft through my panties.
“I want you to suck on my clit.”
He presses harder, his thumb finding my sweet spot and rubbing it rough, causing me to cry out. “And?” he questions.
“I want you to make me come,” I plead through clenched teeth.
Grant nods, satisfied with that answer. Getting to his knees, he whips off his tie in a flash, tossing it to the side before beginning to unbutton his shirt. Eager to have his mouth between my legs, I reach down and start fiddling with the zipper that trails up the side of my skirt.
And then the phone rings. Not the office phone, but his cell phone.
“Don’t,” I plead, which is received about as well as I expected it to be.
With his abs and chest exposed, Grant sighs and gets to his feet, stalking over to his desk for the ringing phone. Tossing a few folders to the floor, he finds it buried beneath some papers, looks at the display, and says, “It’s McCreedy.”
I perk up, still horny as hell, but interested in hearing what our prospective client has to say. “Put it on speaker.”
Grant nods, answering the phone. “Nelson, good to hear from you.”
I rise to my feet as a husky voice replies, “Huffman. Sorry to call you at such a time.”
“Not at all,” Grant smiles. “We were just putting the finishing touches on your presentation for tomorrow. I think you’ll be pleased with how we’ve all worked to make this happen. The results are very impressive, and when you see them, I don’t think you’ll have a second thought about signing on the dotted line with us.”
“Yes, well, that’s why I’m calling.”
“Oh?” Grant cocks his head, glancing at me as I make my way over and place a supportive hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“Yes,” McCreedy continues. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to cancel our meeting tomorrow.”
I immediately feel Grant tense up. His muscles tighten as he asks, “Why’s that?”
A concerned pause on the other end of the line causes my own breath to catch. Something’s wrong. Something is very wrong.
McCreedy sighs, “Look, I know how hard you’ve been working, and I don’t want you to think that I don’t appreciate all of it, because really I do. But the truth is, I’ve decided to move my portfolio elsewhere. I’m sure you understand. It’s just business.”
I can literally hear Grant grinding his teeth. His hands clench up into fists and his knuckles turn bone white from the force being applied. My hearts breaks for him—for us. For the company. Seeing him these past couple of days working like he has been, I know he put his heart and soul into this project, and to hear it being ripped away like this…it’s not right.
“With whom?” he asks hesitantly.
“I don’t think that’s of any bearing,” McCreedy answers.
“Who’d you sign with, Nelson?” Grant asks, his tone annoyed and forceful. “Was it Henderson? Mutual Trust? The least you can do is give me the name of the company so I know who to takeover next.”
McCreedy emits a gruff of laughter and even though I’ve never met him, and have no idea what he looks like, I picture an old man sitting in a leather high back chair, probably in front of a fire with a glass of scotch in one hand, and a cigar in the other.
“Always the shark, huh boy? Treading through the waters, always on the lookout for your next victim.”
“Who is it?” Grant screams.
“Alan Danziger,” he says plainly.
I reel back, feeling like all the air just got sucked from my lungs. Alan Danziger? But how? Grant fired him, and judging by the expression on his face, he’s just as confused as I am.
“You let a real treasure go there, Huffman. He’s starting his own company. Came to me with the inside track and we went over the numbers together. That boy’s got his wits about him. Damn near was able to double my portfolio in a matter of hours. I can’t say no to something like that. I’m telling you, you made the biggest mistake of your life letting that one—”
Grant picks up the phone before McCreedy can finish and throws it against the far wall, letting loose a scream that doesn’t sound human. I move further away, pressing myself against the wall and watching the full brunt of his anger unleashed on anything his hands come in contact with.
His laptop.
His chair.
His coffee mug.
They all succumb to Grant’s temper, smashing and cracking beneath the force of his throws. Seeing him like this makes me tremble, but at the same time it’s such a masculine display of dominance I can’t help but catch my breath, not out of fear, but because it’s so fucking hot.
Pausing to catch his own breath, Grant leans over his desk with his palms splayed on the wood. His back and shoulders rise and fall, and I take a step forward, chancing a look at him. “Grant?” I ask.
No response.
Moving closer—close enough to touch—I place my hand on his shoulder, feeling the heat and anger and frustration seep out of every sweat-soaked pore. “Grant, I—”
But that’s as far as I get. In one smooth motion he sweeps his arm across the desk, shoving the last remnants of our hard work to the floor. I cry out in shock, and cry out again in protest as he grabs me, forcing my body in front of his. He picks me up and sets me atop the desk, and I look in to his eyes to see a look of unabashed frustration on his face as he wrestles with his anger and hunger all at once.
I don’t hesitate. I grab his shirt and pull him close, mashing his lips to mine in a heated exchange of passion that has me pawing and struggling at his open shirt as he removes it. I nip and bite at his lips, his neck, his shoulder, until I have his complete attention and everything else falls by the wayside, and it’s just the two of us blowing off weeks of steam and pent up sexual frustration.
Fiddling with his belt, I get the buckle loose and unzip his pants. Grant shoves them down along with his boxers, setting his cock loose against me. I grab it and stroke him hard. He’s already solid and pulsing with desire, and we breathe into one another as our tongues continue to lap at each other in a heated exchange of foreplay.
And then Grant takes control.
He doesn’t bother to remove my skirt. Instead, he yanks it up to my waist and takes hold of my panties, ripping them free from my body. The sound makes me gasp, causing my pussy to clench and unclench with delightful anticipation as I continue rubbing at his engorged cock. His hand replaces mine and he shoves himself closer before taking hold of my hips and brining me to the edge of the desk. I look him in the eyes, seeing the day’s labor replaced with an animalistic desire. His cock pushes against my wetness, and Grant grips it tight, slipping the crown between my folds before pus
hing it against my clit.
“I thought you said you weren’t going to fuck me?” he growls.
“I’m not,” I pant. “I’m not going to fuck you.”
He raises an eyebrow and looks down at himself, now coated in my juices, then back up with a devilish smirk on his face.
“You’re gonna fuck me,” I grin, opening my legs wider.
He shudders, sliding his girth into me slowly as I bite down on his shoulder. His skin is salty and I wince from the small bit of pain his huge size causes me. Grant pauses to lift my chin.
“If it’s too much just tell me.”
“Shut up and fuck me,” I urge, rolling my hips forward to take more of him in.
As he sinks deeper still, I cry out in pleasure and pain until he’s balls deep, filling every inch of my cunt. He holds himself still, allowing me to become used to the feeling, then slowly he works himself in and out, in and out, until our rhythms match and my arms hang on for dear life interlocked behind his neck.
“You’re so fucking tight,” he purrs. “This feels amazing.”
“You’re so big,” I breathe. “So fucking big.”
He thrusts harder and faster, holding his hands under my ass. Every part of me is on fire. I’ve never been fucked so raw in my entire life, and it’s incredible. Looking down, I can see him disappearing and reappearing, his thick shaft glistening with my wetness. The aroma of our sex masked with his cologne and my perfume sends me into sensory overload. It’s like being in a goddamn porno movie.
“Fuck me,” I cry out. “Don’t stop.”
“Jesus, Raven. You feel so good.”
Our flesh slaps together in a rhythmic symphony of ecstasy. Grant pounds and grinds, releasing his anger, frustration, and desires into me. My head swims with every thought imaginable but the ones it keeps coming back to are how amazing this all feels, and that there’s no one I’d rather be with right now.
“I’ve thought about this,” he whispers into my ear. “Thought about how good you’d feel.”
“Is it everything you imagined?” I nip.
“And more.”
“Then don’t stop.”
He nods, continuing to bury himself deep in my pussy, which clenches tight around him. Bucking and jackhammering his cock, Grant keeps his eyes fixed on mine, and it’s so damn hot to see him focused on nothing but our pleasure.
“I don’t know how long I can last,” he half-laughs, half-pants. “This is too good.”
I shake my head. “It’s okay. Just come inside me.”
He stops, arching his eyebrows.
“It’s okay,” I say once more. “I’m on the pill. You can come inside me.”
“That’s so fucking hot,” he grunts.
And like I’d just flipped a switch, his rhythm quickens as Grant begins to fuck me with everything he has. He holds nothing back, completely ravishing my pussy, my neck, and my lips. His tongue slips into me and I suck it back, drinking him in, while my hands clench tighter on his muscular shoulders, the nails digging into his skin.
Our closeness causes my core to tighten. Knowing we’re being connected like this, it’s more than I ever thought it would be. For me sex has always been a way to deepen that connection, but this? This is beyond my wildest dreams. Whether it’s the way we’ve been flirting, the fact that we just spent two days locked in an office together, or that I’ve been fantasizing about what it would be like to have this man inside me from the second I met him, it doesn’t matter. All that matters is this moment.
“Yes,” I scream. “Keep going. Keep fucking me.”
Grant moans my name, causing me to clench even tighter around him. He’s not the only one who’s going to come.
I run my fingers through his hair and kiss him hard. He doesn’t break stride, but rather keeps pushing into me both with his cock, and his breath. I wish I had of taken off my blouse because I am absolutely drenched in sweat, and my nipples are two hard pebbles aching to be sucked on. Thinking of it brings me that much closer to the edge, and I concentrate completely on feeling every inch of him fill me to the brim.
“Do it,” I beg. “Come for me.”
“I want you to come, too.”
“I will. Trust me.”
Grant nods, and looks down, watching my pussy thrust over his shaft. “Jesus,” he grunts. “So good.”
“Do it,” I plead again. “Come.”
He pounds harder and faster until his breathing is so labored he has no choice but to hold it in as he releases into me. His cum spurts into the deepest recesses of my pussy while his cock twitches and pulses within the walls of my flesh, sending me completely over the edge, and soon I’m releasing with him—a flood of warmth spreading from my center to every pore. I arch my back and cry out as I orgasm while Grant continues to flood me with his semen, filling the air around us with his grunts of pleasure.
Emptied, I can feel him leaking out of me as we kiss. “There’s so much of it,” I giggle between his lips.
“It’s all for you, baby.” He brushes a strand of damp hair free from my forehead, and the way he looks at me makes my heart flutter because it’s not an expression of a man who just conquered a woman. It’s one of pure lust, like he can’t get enough of me and wants more.
I know how he feels.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers, as if reading my thoughts.
“Good,” I kiss, “because neither am I.”
Still inside me, Grant rocks back and forth slowly, keeping the friction between us at a high level of desire. The more we kiss, the more passionate it becomes, and soon his cock goes from semi-hard to rock solid inside me again. I’m still sopping wet, both from my own pleasure and from his cum, and though I’m absolutely ravished, the very thought of fucking him twice in a row sends my mind into a tizzy.
“You’re an animal,” I say.
“You ain’t seen nothing yet,” he promises.
Pulling me off the desk, Grant spins me around and bends me over it. His fingers work their way up and down my wet cleft and it isn’t long before he’s pushing himself inside me once more and we’re going at it like jackrabbits.
I could definitely get used to this.
- 17 -
Grant
I breathe in the fresh scent of my Esmerelda Special Auction Grand Reserve Geisha, savoring the aroma before taking my first sip of coffee. I take my time with it, allowing the world’s most expensive coffee to trickle down my throat before it hits my stomach, awakening my senses. I paid a whopping $475 per pound for this, and normally I’d sit at the kitchen bar—alone—feeling a deep sense of pride at that.
This morning it all seems so…different.
Not that I don’t appreciate it, I do, but ever since meeting Raven the expensive things in life are beginning to pale in comparison to the simple pleasures.
Touching her.
Smelling her.
Being inside her.
Those things are quickly overshadowing every guilty pleasure I’ve ever indulged in, because I’m beginning to realize she’s my guilty pleasure now.
Glancing at my phone, I pick it up and click over to my text messages. She sent me one in the middle of the night while I was fast asleep. It’s a picture of her beautiful shaved pussy, freshly showered and clean, with the message hope you slept well to go along with it.
I did sleep well, thanks to her. On a night when I should have been tossing and turning, consumed with anger and thoughts of revenge against Alan, I could only imagine the way she felt wrapped tight around me. The way she looked into my eyes when I came inside her. She replaced all the negative feelings I normally would have had with positive, soul soothing ones that sent me drifting into one of the best sleeps I’ve had in years.
Smiling, I text back: I’d love to be licking that right now.
She replies almost immediately: Sorry, you gave me the day off.
I chuckle, knowing she’s right. After the hellacious couple of days we’ve had working so damn h
ard, I figured I owed it to Raven and to myself to take a day to recuperate, both from work, and each other.
But I can’t help craving her. It’s like a constant ache in my cock, and now that I’ve experienced what it’s like to come inside her, I want more. Always more.
Taking another sip of coffee, I stare out the window, sighing at the sight of New York. High-rises, throngs of people always going somewhere, but never getting anywhere. It’s a concrete jungle I’ve lived in all my life, and for the first time I’m beginning to tire of it. Normally it’s the kind of adventure I thrive upon, but now? Raven’s my adventure.
Making a snap decision, I look back down at my phone and text: You wanna get out of here?
RAVEN: What do you mean, like for breakfast or something?
GRANT: No, out of the city. Let’s go to the beach.
My phone rings and she says, “The beach? You mean Long Island? That’s a pretty shitty beach, you know. Gonna have to work harder to impress a girl.”
Laughing at not only her accent, but her wonderful sense of sarcastic humor, I reply, “How does a beach house in South Carolina sound?
“No shit? You have one of those?”
“Two, actually. Right beside each other on a little stretch of land on Edisto Island. I think we should go.”
Raven pauses, humming and hawing as if she’s having trouble deciding. A little perplexed, I ask, “What’s the problem? You don’t want to go away with me?”
“No,” she says happily, causing my heart to perk up. “No, it’s not that. It’s just, I sort of promised Tito and Frankie that I’d hang out with them today. I haven’t really seen them since the night of their engagement party, and you know, they’re my besties and all that.”
“So?” I shrug. “Bring ‘em with you. We can stay in one house, and they can stay in the other.”
She pauses once more and I can hear muffled sounds on the other end of the line, like she’s covering the phone to talk to someone.
“Raven?” I ask. “Are they with you now?”
“Yeah, sorry. Early morning breakfast. Look, I really appreciate the offer, but I think—”
Made In America Page 12
