Wicked Sunshine

by Justine Winter

  Fuck me. This is the worst idea I’ve ever had. Worse than my lunchtime lingerie scam. Which, by the way, I’m deducing she isn’t wearing. It’s all the more reason to take her home with me. She’s directly disobeyed my command. She’s challenging me, and it’s making my soldier stand to some painfully rigid attention.

  She leads the way to a square of untouched flooring, and begins to sway to the music. All I see is her, curves moving from one side to the next as she fucks me with her eyes. I pull her into me, keeping my hands possessively on her hips. She turns, and I’m met with the deliciousness that is her butt bumping into my cock. Over and over she moves seductively, tempting me even more.

  I trail my lips along her neck, kissing tenderly, biting softly. Even with the roaring music, I hear her whimper. She lifts her arms to wrap around my neck, opening herself up to me.

  She’s giving me free reign to run my hands all over her body.

  “Do you want me, Maya?” I whisper in her ear, my lips never far from her neck.

  She tilts her head to stare up at me, her gorgeous jade eyes are glowing. “Take me home with you.”

  That’s all I need to get the exit strategy plan working to full effect. She’s giving me permission.

  It’s time to rock her world.

  ~ £ ~

  The drive home fucking kills me. Her hand is on my jeans, rubbing my cock like we’re a couple of horny teenagers about to go dogging in some dark car park. She’s getting me ready for the night ahead, not that that’s an issue. Come on, now. I’ve been hard all night. Is she trying to see how much control I have over my body? Because we both know after our little dry humpathon in the back of my limo, I have very little restraint when it comes to her touching me.

  “What’s the matter, Grayson?” Maya croons as I stop her hand, holding it steady.

  “If you keep stroking me, I’m going to ruin another pair of boxers. And the next time I come, I want to be inside you.”

  I see the heat in her eyes, the flush in her cheeks, and it feels like my apartment is a lifetime away.

  Red light after red light ails me, mocking my tactical driving skills. I can just imagine some fat, doughnut-eating prick behind a desk pressing the button to change from green every time my Ferrari gets near. Does that sound like I’m paranoid? Good, my dick can’t take any more obstructions.

  When the last stretch is eventually clear, I floor it, and the engine responds with a mighty roar. I speed my way through the underground garage, parking up next to all my other beautiful ladies. God, it’s a gorgeous sight, and having Maya beside me is the cherry on top of the scrumptiously decadent fucking cake.

  “All these cars are yours, aren’t they?”

  I nod, my face lights up. I can feel my grin spreading through my cheeks. What? I’m a boy that likes his toys. Besides, I’m a billionaire. I can afford it.

  I take her hand and wait for the elevator, catching her smirk. “What?”

  She shakes her head. “I’m going to have fun fucking you.”

  I push her into the elevator, insert my key, and press the button for penthouse. I trap her in the corner, my impressive frame squashes her against the walls. “Yes, sunshine. We’re going to have a lot of fun.”

  Electricity crackles between us, conducting heat inside the steel box. Sparks fly, ricocheting around us as our passion sizzles - and I haven’t even touched her yet. It’s all in her eyes.

  Heat. Intensity. Excitement. Anticipation.

  She’s pulling on my neck before I have time to initiate, crushing my lips with a delectable force. I taste whiskey as her tongue finds mine; she’s burning my chest with her fiery cocktail.

  And still I want more. Her kisses are oxygen I’ve come to depend upon. Every last one matters.

  She’s arching into me; I can feel the hardened points of her nipples rubbing against my t-shirt, and it’s like crack to my cock. One more lethal injection of her wildness, and I’ll succumb to her entirely. There’ll be nothing left of Grayson Rush.

  I will become hers. The intelligent mind locked within my skull will disintegrate. I am encompassed by her possession.

  Her willing slave.

  She’s changing me with each caress, ruining my chances at wanting anyone else. This is her wily magic, casting me under a sappy spell. I’m barely recognising myself in this steel trap. She’s got me hooked.

  When the doors ping open a rush of air clears the haze, reminding me that I’m the one in charge. I carry the balls.

  Oh, Christ. Please let me be the one with the balls. Don’t let this be one terrible transvestite misfortune. I’m not anti-tranny, I’m just not one to swing with titties and testes at the same time.

  Call me old fashioned, but I like pussy.

  I take charge of our impending fuckathon, lifting her up to wrap those sexy legs around my waist. I grab onto her arse as she squeaks with delight, and navigate the hallway that directly leads into my apartment. My mouth never leaves her body, my tongue is trailing her neck as I pass room upon room, knowing my destination is near.

  How long have I waited for this moment? It feels like centuries. My cock agrees.

  When I finally make it to my bedroom my bollocks are wound so tight I can feel them in my throat. I’m practically choking on nuts. Big, heavy, wrinkly-yet-smooth nuts. I like to think of them as the King Kong of monkey nuts.

  I spread her out on my bed; her hair fans out across the duvet, her arms and legs lay open, waiting. I’m shrugging out of my own leather jacket, tearing my black t-shirt over my head, and she stares at me like I’m the biggest, juiciest steak at the table.

  You know how women feel sexy when they’re stared at appreciatively? Well, Maya’s making me feel like ruffling my peacock feathers in a grand gesture.

  And now I’m in a quandary. The feast is laid out before me, and I can’t decide where I want to begin.

  I lower myself on top of her, strategically placing my mouth over the fabric of her right nipple. Her hands are gripping the bedsheets as she arches into me, while mine are skilfully fumbling with the button and zipper on her trousers.

  Trust me when I say that all men can be multi-taskers if the goal ends up in sex.

  Reluctantly, I leave her nipple to free her snatch and I’m rewarded with the sight of the lace g-string I had delivered earlier today. Fuck me, my mouth’s watering.

  She surprises me even more when she pulls me down and rolls on top of me, taking off her top in the process.

  And then I’m left with my mouth agape, hanging open wide enough to let a train through. She is braless. Her hooters are begging for attention.

  But I’m temporarily blinded by her sparkling stomach. Her belly-button is winking at me. Fuck me! Her navel is pierced with diamonds, and I’m entranced like it’s a wonder I’ve never seen before, but I have, several times.

  That’s not all though. She has a tattoo on her right hip. I trace my hand over the printed stars, intrigued with the story behind them. I’m dazzled with Maya’s beauty.

  I know, I should be running away as fast as I can. Since when do I care about background? But I’m learning that everything with Maya is different. I’m different.

  Right now, my cock is reaching a new level of blue-balls torture. Why am I stalling the inevitable?

  With my controlling need to dominate, I pull her underneath me, watching her boobs bounce from the movement. Ladies, when a guy sees a set of jugs jiggling away two things happen; one, he wants to bury his face in the cushions of love and motorboat the shit out of them, and two, he imagines the satisfying friction of said tit bounce against his cock.

  Both inspire fantastic happy endings.

  I’m feasting on her nips, and testing moisture levels with my fingers when she starts to stroke my cock again. I’m losing my mind to crazy pleasure; I’m working on instinct.

  She’s super wet, bucking against my long fingers when I apply pressure to her clit. She’s writhing and moaning, her grip increases on my dick like she’s
enacting one sexy chokehold.

  “Grayson, I’m coming,” she groans, her body clenches on my hand. I watch the waves wash over her beautiful face, and it takes everything I have not to blow my load at the sight of her coming.

  I slide the g-string along her legs, eager to be rid of the restraining lace, and shed my boxers, too.

  “Grayson.” I hear her voice waver when I’m pulling a condom out of my nightstand.

  I look up to see she’s staring at the full length of my highly erect penis, and it doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together.

  I kiss her tenderly, wanting to wipe away any trace of fear. “I promise I won’t hurt you, sunshine.” The truth to that statement hits me square on the nose like a mighty punch, but I don’t let it faze me. Not now when I’m close to getting what I’ve wanted for the past two weeks.

  I dress up my dick, and take in her ever-eager nipples into my mouth as I ease my cock into her tight pussy. I groan as I slide in, filling her completely. I’ve never felt such snug perfection before.

  Maya tugs on my hair, directing my lips to hers. And she devours me as I pump in and out faster, building a rhythm that’s satisfying us both. Her nails find my back, clawing my skin like a tame Wolverine.

  It’s fucking phenomenal.

  I’m pounding into her like a raging bull, but I can’t stop myself. I can’t slow down. I need this release before she drives me batshit loony.

  And she’s so close again. Her nails are digging harder, her breathing is more ragged, and my name wanders along the tip of her tongue once more. Do you know how fucking sexy it is when a woman shouts your name when she comes?

  Her snatch is tightening around my schlong, and it’s enough to send me over the glorious edge. I come hard, letting loose a stream of cum that’s been building since the beginning of the night, whilst she rides out her own orgasm.

  I collapse beside her to catch my breath and pull her into my arms, knowing the night of sex has barely begun. My wanger needs less than a minute to rise, to which I’m afforded a giggle.

  She trails her finger over my chest, raising all of my nerves to extreme awareness. It’s such a turn on.

  “This time, Grayson. I’m in control.” She shimmies on down the bed, and once her mouth covers my dick any disagreements I once had have vanished.

  She can hoover my cock all night if she wants.

  Chapter Eleven

  ~ £ ~

  It’s Saturday afternoon and Maya and I have barely left my bedroom. Our limbs are tangled up in each other, the duvet’s fallen to the floor, and though the TV screen has been on since morning neither one of us has paid any attention to it. It doesn’t take a genius to work out why.

  I’m busy catching my breath after another adventurous round when Maya cuddles into me, draping her arm and head across my chest. Bloody hell, who knew snuggles can be so rewarding?

  “You know, I screwed up. I wasn’t supposed to fuck you on the first date.”

  “According to whom?” she mumbles, her voice sleepy.

  “My sister.”

  Maya sits up, her eyes wide with surprise. “You told your sister about me?”

  I nod. “There isn’t much that gets past her. She’s a lot like you.” I push her hair out of her face, cupping her cheek.

  “How so?”

  “Layla doesn’t listen to my bullshit either. Plus she’s desperate to make her mark in the working world. Her ambition runs as strong as yours.”

  “Is that a compliment I hear, Grayson?”

  “Damn right it is. Do you know how few people strive to reach for something more in their lives? The statistics are shockingly low which is absolutely mind-boggling. I don’t understand it, how can you not want to better yourself every day?”

  The psychology beneath this question always has me thinking deeply for days. I wonder if I’m the crazy cookie, for not being satisfied with what I have. But I know that’s not it, I’m incredibly grateful with what I’ve achieved. Yet I can’t help but ask. . . Why stop at conquering one thing when there’s a whole world of challenges and chances?

  It’s the ultimate playground.

  You don’t go to a park to sit on the bench, you leap from the swings, puke on the roundabout after too many turns, and graze your arse from the friction on the scorching hot, metal slide.

  Life is no different. I feel the fear and manipulate it to hope because nobody ever gets rich with pessimism.

  “How old is Layla?”

  “Eighteen. Sometimes fifty.”

  “That sounds about right,” she giggles. “It’s a good thing you have a wise sister. I imagine you need quite the counselling at times.”

  I look at Maya with mock disgust. What exactly is she insinuating?

  “I mean with all your business goals,” she sighs. “It’s one thing to talk about strategies and ideas with colleagues who are only thinking about their next pay cheque, it’s another thing to do it with a person whose opinion actually matters. Trust is a factor that plays too small a part in the workforce nowadays. Everyone’s out to benefit themselves.”

  “Is that how it feels at Enhance Graphics & Design?”

  “Sometimes. It’s a constant competition.” She lies on her back with her head on my stomach, and her legs dangle over the side of the bed as she stares up at the ceiling. This spectacular view alone is enough to wake my tired soldier, but I’m interested in hearing what she has to say. I sprawl my arm over her chest, holding on to her breasts like they’re my personal stress balls.

  “When I first started, I offered up my time to help everyone out when deadlines were short. It took me about a week to realise that was time I was never getting back in return. It’s like we’re a group of freelance designers sitting in one office with a hierarchy determining factor. It’s absolute bullshit. There’s no trust. No loyalty. They’re all willing to stomp on each other.”

  “Which is why you took the chance on my account,” I say, understanding her reasons some more.

  “It’s not the kind of work ethic I expected by working for such a prestigious firm. There’s two kinds of competition, right? One that helps better both parties, and one that stabs the other in the back. And to think I thought I won the lottery when I’d gotten the job right out of Uni.”

  “You were thrilled about it last night,” I say, remembering the account she’s won.

  “I know,” she whines. “It’s only been a month with the company, and for most of those days I’ve come home miserable. I’m not supposed to hate the career I’ve worked so hard at getting. That’s not how I envision my future. But like last night, the day I took on your project made me forget the utterly boring despair for a minute or two. Then I roll back in early the next day to have the smile wiped from my face by one of the many arseholes I’m surrounded by. I convince myself it’s just growing pains, but I’m not so sure anymore. Does it sound like I’m being bratty, like I’m expecting too much?”

  I soothingly rub circles around her nipple, watching the bud harden. “If you’re not happy, then the company doesn’t deserve your dedicated energy. As far as I’m concerned, the first real job in your chosen career should fill you with excitement.”

  “That’s what my mother keeps saying.”

  “And you choose not to believe her?”

  “No. I don’t want to quit, it seems like I’m giving up too easily.”

  I understand this struggle better than anyone. “It isn’t giving up when you’re transferring your skills to a better outlet. You deserve to work for someone that appreciates the jewel of talent you are.”

  “Fucking hell, Grayson. One more compliment and I’ll wonder what happened to the man I met two weeks ago.”

  I haven’t been that bad surely. . . “I have a solution to your problem anyway.”

  “You do?” She sits up, crossing her legs as she stares at me cautiously. I sit up too, painfully aware that we’re both still naked. How I’ve lasted this long with conversation without shaggi
ng her I’ll never know.

  “Work for me,” I say sincerely.

  She bursts out laughing. “What? As some kinky outfit-wearing sex slave, seeing to your every need?”

  Well, now that she’s said it, I could do with one of those. “No, my publishing house needs a graphic designer. Make award-winning covers for bestselling novels. You fit the bill perfectly.”

  Her face freezes. “You’re not joking?”

  I shake my head. “I only ever employ the best in the business. Maya, I want you there.”

  “Grayson, I don’t want your pity, I want your opinion.” She leaves the bed, scrambling around the floor to grab her clothes. What’s going on? What the fuck did I do?

  “Haven’t you paid attention to anything I’ve said?” Her voice rises a notch or two, and I’m stuck in the bed, absolutely clueless as to what’s happening.

  “I want to earn every position I advance to. I don’t want it handed to me for being a good lay.”

  Okay, now I see my mistake. I chase after her as she leaves the bedroom, wanting to fix this temporary glitch. You see what happens when people aren’t used to hearing the simple truth? They believe there’s an ulterior motive to everything. Nothing can ever be.

  “Maya, wait.” She continues her storm through the living room, inching closer to the hallway that leads to the elevator. “Please, sunshine. Listen to me first.” This is the most I’ve begged in years, and I’m not even flinching. I can tell you’re proud of me. I’m growing up fast, aren’t I?

  She stops in the doorway, but never turns my way. “Have I ever lied to you?”

  We all know this answer. I’m an honest man.

  “Not that I’m aware of.”

  “Have I treated you like a whore?”

  She turns, her mouth parts as she glares at me. “No.”

  “Then why would you think my job offer is a payment for sex? I’ve been telling you how talented you are, and instead of listening to the truth in those words you choose to cheapen my sincerity.”