I pull out his throbbing flesh. It lays thick and solid against both of my palms. I gulp down and nod. “I have to try, right?”
I bite my lip.
“That’s right,” he says, sliding two fingers inside of me. “You do.”
He pushes me against the glass, and my palms fall across the surface again, sliding across it. I smudge the window, defiling it. But he doesn’t seem to care.
He rips my shirt off, buttons soaring across the room. Shocked, I gasp.
“You said you like it hard,” he says. “Should I be gentle?”
“No,” I whisper. “No, I like this, maybe too much.”
My shirt falls to the floor, and he unhooks my bra. I let that fall, too.
He traces his fingers above my clit, pressing his palm against my lips to feel me. Three fingers roll inside. Within seconds, he’s deep, down to the knuckles.
His other hand unzips my black skirt.
“You look so formal today,” he says. “I like it.”
I swallow. “I had a feeling you would,” I say, feeling the small thud of his knees dropping to the floor.
He rolls my skirt and bites at the elastic band of my panties. He pulls them toward my ankles, rolling the fabric past my feet.
I’m naked now, looking at the world pass by below. If anyone were to look up, they’d see my body glowing in the light. They’d witness a business man’s cock poking through his Armani pants.
“Open wide, baby,” he says.
I do as he commands, imagining I’m his young secretary, the same girl I met in the hall. I fantasize he wants to fuck me so bad, he’s willing to give me a big promotion if I work hard enough for it.
“Fuck. So good,” he grunts.
He grabs my hands and forces them behind my back. He takes his tie and knots them together tight, so I cannot move my wrists.
Without using my hands, he thrusts his cock into my mouth, resting his shaft on my tongue. I can taste him. I can feel him growing for me.
My lips push around the bottom of his shaft, and he hits against my throat, forcing in deep. He moans and jerks back.
Over and over again, he uses me like his fuck-toy. At first, I gag, but I adjust to him as desire creeps into my core.
When I suck his cock, I can feel his pulse pounding. It increases with every light thrust. I spit all over his shaft, extending my tongue to his balls. He’s huge in every way.
His size is daunting sometimes, but I can take it. I have learned to adjust.
He bucks back and kisses my salivating mouth. “I can taste myself on your lips,” he says, smiling. “You know, you’re the hottest thing I’ve ever laid eyes on, right?”
I nod. But where is this going? Is this all about sex or is there something more between us?
He places his hand across my chin, positioning himself behind me. Grabbing my shoulders, he pulls me closer to him.
I can feel his cock press against my lips. “And you know I’d do anything for you, right?”
“Uh huh,” I nod, trembling with desire. I’m beyond turned-on now. I need his cock inside my pussy.
He keeps on hesitating. He teases the hell out of me.
He edges forward. “I need you,” he moans.
Finally, he penetrates, and it’s like a light switch turns on inside me. Together, we moan, wrapping around me, chest pressed against my back.
I arch my spine, easing over his girth. My cheeks smash against his thighs, and the only thing I can feel is his power, slipping past my wetness, moving much deeper than before.
While, kissing my neck, he drags his tongue up to the back of my ear. “You’re my girl, right?” he asks.
He swivels the tip along the cartilage, causing me shiver and sway.
“You wish,” I mutter.
His heartbeat speeds up. He’s driving inside me, thrusting his hips with incredible determination.
All of this feels different. It’s not just a game. It’s something more.
His hands fall to my hips, and he holds on, keeping a tight grip on me. Kissing my back, he groans and bites.
My cheek presses against the window and I watch as cars keep driving by.
This is wrong. Everyone can see us. But I don’t care.
This is what I asked for.
As he thrusts, my whole body pushes against the thin layer of glass, and I have to wonder how much weight this thing can hold.
The fear brings persistence. The persistence brings pleasure. I can’t stop wanting this.
I just can’t.
He falls back, laying against the floor. Grabbing my legs, he forces them together, thrusting back in.
“You’ll be mine soon enough, darling,” he says into my ear. I can feel my pussy grow wetter by the second.
“Is that right?” I ask.
“If you say no, I’ll make you mine,” he says.
Fuck…
I’m thrilled. I feel my excitement drip, butterflies flapping against my stomach.
His cologne fades into my nostrils, and my entire lower half turns warm. He’s a true man. He lives for money, power, and sex. That’s it. I don’t admire that, but it sure gets me off.
He throws me off and stands, towering over me. He bends, lifts my ass, and sets me on his desk. “Hello, Mr. Boss Man.”
I smile, running my tongue across my lips.
“Are you going to give me that promotion or what?” I ask.
“You don’t deserve a promotion,” he says, playing along. “But I have something better for you.”
“What is it?” I ask, eyebrows raised with curiosity.
“My cum. You will be covered in it by the time we’re done.”
I tremble as he forces my legs open, sliding his cock into me once more. He’s forceful and commanding, which is just how I want him to be. I don’t want him to ask if something feels good or not, and he doesn’t even think to. He just does what gives him pleasure.
He fucks me like the boss he is.
I hold on to his desk as a knot inside me swells and aches. The excitement turns into something more serious, more daunting. It takes over my body like a drug, or a strange, spiritual experience. It shoots upward and out, causing my nipples to tighten.
“I’m going to come,” I whisper.
He forces his tongue inside my mouth, and we kiss deep and rushed. Our saliva falls against our faces. We are messy and primal, feral to the point I can’t even recognize myself anymore.
I grab his belt and throw it around his body. He moves in closer, thrusting his cock in deeper.
I lose it.
I fall back with a loud thud, but he just keeps going. I’ve forgotten about everyone on the other side of that door.
“Coming!” I scream. “Keep… doing… that…”
He claws at my stockings, ripping them down the center. Finally, he puts both his hands on my breasts.
Leaning forward, he whispers, “You’re acting like a naughty girl.”
I shake, twisting. I writhe against his mahogany desk, growing so wetter I start to slide. I’m coming, and I can’t stop.
I’m stuck in pure elation, in pure happiness and contentment. And then, it washes from me.
I’m clear.
My cheeks are hot, and I’ve got the biggest smile on my face.
“You want it, don’t you?” he asks.
I still can’t speak. I just nod and close my eyes as he fucks the life out of me.
This is bad. This is so wrong. What if Byron found out I was fucking the competition? He’d oust me from the company. I’d lose everything.
So fucking what?
“Rocco,” I moan against his ear. “Give me your cum, baby.”
Baby? Did I really just say that?
His eyes widen. “Keep talking,” he says.
“Cum…”
He cups my tits and thrusts so deep that I figure he’s going to lose it inside of me, without pulling out, yet again. A part of me doesn’t care. The risk is stupid, but worth it.
T
his time, he slides back and grunts. Hot streams of cum shoot out onto my pussy, stomach, and tits. Wave upon wave spray onto my flesh.
Sighing, he grabs his shaft and smacks my clit. I run my hands over his biceps. I can feel his muscles working overtime.
When it’s all said and done, I lay across his desk, shattered and covered in cum.
He leans over and presses his body against mine. We’re both sticky, but it doesn’t seem to matter.
“My God, woman,” he sighs, shaking his head. “You will be the death of me.”
I nod and exhale, “That’s my plan.”
He laughs, overjoyed. We have made an absolute mess of his office. “You’re an evil one, aren’t you?”
“I’m going to take over your company,” I joke. “Just you wait.”
“Shit,” he mutters. “Go ahead. I’m bored with the business, anyway. All I think about is fucking you now. I loathe going into meetings, knowing you’re so close to me.”
“You should get over me,” I tell him, reaching into the coat that’s strewn across his leather chair. Inside are my panties and they’re clean. I smile and use the fabric to clean myself as best I can. “I’m sort of off-limits.”
“Off-limits? Are you afraid of me or something?” he asks, tossing the pair of panties away from him.
“No, not at all,” I admit. “I get excited thinking about you.”
“So what’s the problem?” he asks, heading into his closet.
He opens a wood panel and reaches in for a towel.
“The problem is I own stocks of my father’s company. And I’m still on the payroll,” I say. “I’m not willing to cut that off to be with you. Not yet, at least.”
I wink and slide my skirt over my hips.
“I could pay you more money than Byron ever could,” he says.
His naked, muscular body glistens. He looks powerful and incredibly hot. Still, I have to bathe him with some reality.
“But then I’d be your property,” I tell him. “And I’m not that kind of girl.”
“What kind of girl are you?” he asks, slipping on some boxer-briefs. His bulge is huge.
“I’m a girl who likes to get to know men before I fuck them,” I say. “We’ve crossed the line, already. I shouldn’t be doing this.”
“But you wanted to,” he says.
“I do,” I admit. “But don’t get your hopes up. I’m not your saving grace.”
“All right,” he sighs. “We’ll call it off then.”
“Let’s just see what happens. Sometimes lust is a tricky thing,” I say.
It’s not a talk I want to have. I doubt any woman does. But it’s needed. We have set the boundaries.
He’s a man who fucks the life out of me when I ask. I’ve never had that before, and I think I like it more than being trapped in a bad relationship.
I’ve dated men like him. Rich and powerful. It never works out the way you think it might. My last relationship… ugh.
I just don’t even want to go there again.
He shakes his head and puts on an undershirt. “You play hard to get,” he says.
He’s right. I want him to beg for me. If I’m worth as much as he lets on, he’ll keep fighting.
I put my hand around the door handle and push my ass back. “I’m just a girl who knows her worth,” I say. “That’s all.”
“I’ll see you out,” he says.
“I’m all right. Plus, I think you need to get dressed,” I laugh.
When I open the door, he walks into his bathroom, lest anyone see his naked lower half.
Yeah, my hair is wild, and everyone is looking in my direction.
They’re probably thinking, “Did that slut just spend forty-five minutes in his office with him?”
That’s right. I did.
Rocco
Meeting her was the best and worst idea I’ve ever had.
I’m convinced she’s crazier than I am. Perhaps I’ve found my match.
That little session we had earlier put a nail into my day. After I had her, appointments flooded in, left and right.
From the hall, Johnson, one of my trustees, nods in my direction. “Where were you for our twelve o’clock?”
“Swamped,” I say.
He chuckles. “You and me both, brother.”
Our 12 o’clock? Did I have a twelve o’clock set up? I’m working overtime on papers I shouldn’t be dealing with at this late hour.
I throw my last paper down and check my phone. I’ve been flirting with Madison all night, dreaming about those thighs. Every part of her body is to be worshiped daily.
I’m thinking my next hotel chain will be called The Madison. Why not? It’s got a nice ring to it.
Another round of texts.
“What do you even want with me? I mean, why do you think you’re so special, that you can just claim any woman you want?”
Because that’s who I am. I get what I want. Didn’t she read the memo?
I type.
“Special? Pretty sure you’re the special one.”
I’m obsessed with her. I can’t stop thinking about her body, her lips, her full tear-drop tits.
The way she makes me feel is beside the point. I could stare at her all day.
I finish the last of the reports and heave a sigh.
My phone lights up again.
“What’re you doing right now?”
My heart skips a beat.
“Just got done at the office. You made me have to work overtime tonight, woman.”
I can picture her smile, her thick lips that arches to one side.
“Still? You’re such a hard worker, Rocco. All for me, huh?”
Yes. A very hard worker.
“You’d be surprised. I can’t stop thinking about earlier. Your tits pressed up against that glass drove me insane.”
She acts like she needs to stay away from me, but she won’t quit texting the second she leaves. I know what she wants. She wants me inside her again.
“Yeah? You liked that, didn’t you?”
I see those three dots that tell me she’s typing something else.
“How about we use that elevator of yours tomorrow?”
There’s a winking emoji at the end of the text. Once you get the winking face, you’re in.
“The elevator? Are you crazy? Everyone uses that thing.”
I wait for her next move.
“Well, close it off. You’re the owner of the company, right? If that’s the case, you have all the power. You can tell them whatever you want.”
She’s trouble. There’s no doubt about it.
I send her a shocked-face emoji.
“See you at twelve?”
When I don’t respond, she gets impatient and texts me back.
“I want you to take me in every position imaginable. I want you in every hallway, hotel lobby, elevator, and office.”
But I want… something else. All of this playing around is fun, but if we keep fucking in elevators and bathrooms, we’re going to run this thing dry.
“I haven’t had you in your house yet. How about dinner tomorrow at seven? A real dinner. I’ll help you cook.”
It’s an honest request. She’s been dodging my moves for two days now. Truth is, we have fun together. Why not turn our sex-crazy meet-ups into the real deal? It could be a date to remember, something nice to offset all our craziness.
“Another attempt, huh?”
I push myself off the leather office chair. I walk toward the window and analyze the smudge marks we made.
“Another attempt to make you mine. Is it working?”
Another emoji response, followed by:
“It’s working out okay.”
The city below is empty. The cars have dissipated and turned to their respective carports and garages. The air is cold and breezy. Every so often, you can hear the honking of someone’s horn, or the yell of someone walking on the streets.
Detroit is its own place. It’s different,
but it’s my home. If there’s something I could do to fix this city, I would. The development industry isn’t doing much for the people, I know.
I walk back to my work papers. There’s another hotel project in the works. This time, we’re headed for New York City. It’ll be the biggest deal of my life if it works out.
I could retire and buy a new house, somewhere distant. Somewhere away from all this crap.
I’ve been thinking about the town of Monroe, but I can’t put my finger on why that is…
I picture her smile again. It’s unique.
It’s her.
Fuck, I have to stop fantasizing about this relationship. It may be the only excitement I can hold onto, but that doesn’t mean I need to fall in love.
I’m in my 40s, anyway. It’s past the time for that. I need to just live a little and have some fun.
My eyes open to the bright sun in the Detroit sky.
The cars are out, and a plethora of people are roaming the streets. “Fuck, I fell asleep?” I ask myself, wiping my eyes.
I’m strewn across the floor, feet propped up on the leather chair. My bottle of brandy is open on the table. My back is sore as shit.
I must have finished the bottle last night because I remember nothing past texting her.
I glance at my nearly dead phone and sigh when I see the two texts:
“I can’t get to bed. Want to talk on the phone?”
“Okay, guess not. Night.”
Night.
Well, I blew it last night.
There’s a knock on my door. In comes another guy from the team. He’s got a fresh stack in his hand.
He drops it onto my desk.
“More?” I ask.
“It’s a big project, sir. Hundreds of jobs. The company is set to make a billion in the first year,” he says.
He eyes me funny.
“What?” I ask.
Beg Me: A Billionaire Syndicate Romance Page 5
