I grab her tit hard and press it up. “Lick,” I say. She bites her bottom lip, looking up at me hesitantly, teasing with her brown eyes. “Fucking lick,” I say, squeezing it harder. She tucks in her chin and rolls out her tongue along her light brown nipple. Watching her lick her nipple like that makes my cock scream to be touched, so I stroke it to alleviate the throbbing.
I turn her just enough towards me so that I can lick the rest of her juices off her breast and that’s about all I can fucking take before I burst.
“Shit, Mia. I’m gonna fuck you so hard, this whole building is gonna hear,” I say, facing her away from me again and gripping her neck for leverage.
“Fuck me,” she begs, reaching her hand underneath to rub her pussy. Fuuuuuck.
“Say please,” I groan in her ear. “You like to beg, don’t you?”
“Please Tax, stick your huge fucking cock inside of me.” Holy shit, she is so fucking hot.
I push myself into her tight pussy, growling from the tight warm grip that takes a hold of my cock. She lets out a moan that sounds like a cry. The way she moans could make my dick explode right on the spot if I let it.
I plunge into her, then keep my cock inside, massing her g spot with its head. I spread her tight ass cheeks apart and tease the tight button of her asshole.
And then the knob on the front door starts jiggling.
“Oh shit,” I moan, on the verge of coming. I whip myself out of her. The door hinges open.
“Who is that?” she asks covering up her chest.
“Duck,” I say, just as Rex walks in from behind the door. She drops to her knees. “Oh for fuck’s sake!” I scream. “Can I get some fucking privacy!”
Then I feel Mia’s lips wrap around my cock. Oh this kinky little minx.
Rex isn’t looking at me when he starts saying: “Since when the hell has privacy ever—what the fuck?”
Just at that moment, Mia starts doing some voodoo shit on my cock with both of her hands and her mouth: sucking, twisting, licking.
“Oooh fuck...” I say, gripping the table.
“Are you naked?” Rex asks.
“Go away, come back in like an...hour.” Just as I say that, she takes me balls deep. Her cock sucking skills are about as magical as a fucking unicorn.
“Aw come on man, what the hell am I going to do for an hour?”
Rex can be so fucking daft for a genius.
“Rex, I am literally having my cock sucked underneath this counter as we speak. Do I need to fucking build a sign? Go somewhere else!”
“Oh shit, man. Okay.” He backs out. I let out of sigh of relief. Then the door pops open again.
“Holy shit man, is Mia here?”
“Are you fucking kidding me!” Mia’s laughter hums against my cock. I should have totally put him on that list with Jude. I haven’t gotten around to telling him about my reunion with Mia, thinking it would get back to Jude before I could tell her myself.
“Alright!” Rex says, backing out and slamming the door behind him.
“Uhhhh...” I dip my head back and relish in the feeling of Mia’s gorgeous hot mouth on my dick. “Come here,” I say, pulling her up. “That was really fucking bad, what you just did.”
“You’re a bad influence,” she says with a smirk.
“Now I’m gonna fuck the smartass out of you.”
I feel like shit today. I woke up nauseous and under the weather. To top it off, my period is starting. This whole thing with Tax has made me less productive these past couple of weeks because I want to spend all of my time with him or thinking about him. I know? How pathetic, right? I’ve turned into a lovesick teenager.
Anyway, because I do have a company to run, I have insisted, against Tax’s wishes, that I spend most weeknights at my place away from him. That way I can get a good night’s sleep and also take some work home with me. Work, I might add, that I have been behind on ever since that week he left me. I kept a happy face for everyone at Alea during that time, but my output still suffered. I like to remind him this is his investment I am taking care of after all, although I now know he originally had no intentions for it to flourish.
Now as I walk into Alea at noon this Tuesday, I feel like I’ll never catch up. Thankfully, whatever the hell I had seemed to work itself out, though my period decided to pop her head in for a monthly check-in. Bitch.
“Good morning—oops—afternoon Mia!” Laney says as I make a beeline towards my office. “Are you feeling better?”
“Good afternoon! Yes, I think I ate something funky or whatever. Anyways, I feel like a million bucks now! Anything I should know?”
“Yes. Adam and Eve called, I pushed them through to your voicemail. Oh and Pete was looking for you. Aaaaand Mr. Draconi is in your office,” she says pressing her lips into a tight line as her eyes go wide.
“Wait what?”
She keeps her lips pursed and mumbles, pointing her head towards the direction of my office. “Miiisstterr Draacooniiii is iiin theeee offiiiccce.”
“Yes, that I got.”
“Sorry, normally I wouldn’t let anyone in, but he insisted and he does sort of own the entire company.”
“No, it’s fine,” I say, dropping a folder and then spilling my coffee on the floor as I bend to retrieve it. “Shit!” I haven’t seen Tax in these offices since our last kinky Tuesday morning meeting weeks ago, and having him here so unexpectedly takes me back to that feeling of delightful anxiety.
“Go ahead. I’ve got it,” Laney says, taking my folders from my arms and nearly shoving me in the direction of my office.
“Hold my calls!” I call out as I head towards my door.
I straighten out my flowing dress, smooth my hair, and open the door.
Tax is sitting in MY chair, grinning just like I knew he would be. He loves to see me on edge. He’s wearing a black suit, with a white shirt and a mustard tie that brings out the olive undertones in his skin. My dear ovaries, does he look hot in a suit with that tat peeking out just above the collar. I close the door behind me. “What are you doing here!” I whisper.
“I expected a much better reaction than that,” Tax says, leaning back in my chair.
“Well, it’s been a while since I’ve seen you here. And, I didn’t expect you.”
“Are you feeling better?”
“Yes I am. Thank you for asking.”
“Good, because I came here for something,” he says, licking his lips.
“You wanted to play checkers?” I ask.
“Hey, it’s you who insists on going home alone, Ms. Independent.”
“Well, you know, I am running your company, and ironically you are a huge distraction to that task. And that’s my chair you’re sitting in, Mister.”
“Don’t forget who’s boss here,” he says, standing up. I immediately revert back to the woman who was at this dark man’s mercy. When he’s not in Alea, I run the show, but as soon as Tax stands in front of me, his hair slicked back, his body finely wrapped in an Armani suit, I become his secret whore. And yes, it turns me on.
“You know I’m leaving for a few days this afternoon. I thought stopping by yesterday would hold me over, but I decided I need your pussy one last time before I go.”
“Or you can just stay in town. You’re probably going down there to sunbathe anyway.”
“Why does everyone think I don’t work?” Tax asks, exasperated. I know Rex loves to give him crap about it, so I join in on the jabs occasionally. “If I was going to sunbathe, you’d be coming with. It’s boring real estate development shit, as you know.”
“Maybe it’s because you make everything look so easy.”
“That’s a good point. Some of us don’t struggle as much to keep it together,” he says playfully.
“You’re just jealous because I work at a dildo factory as you like to call it. So much more fun than the lame stuff you do,” I say.
Tax walks up to me slowly, a hungry look in his eyes as he presses against me. I step bac
k into the door, and his firm chest traps me against it. His lips approach a near invisible distance from mine and then he reaches past me.
Click.
That sound brings back a flood of memories. So much has changed since that first day. It happened tear by tear, thrust by thrust, kiss by kiss, but over time Tax and me have evolved into something beautifully ugly. The painful journey is just as important as this moment here because without it, what we have now would not have the same meaning.
Tax is still a savage beast, but now, he is my savage beast.
He slides his fingers around my neck and pulls me towards him, pressing his lips against mine. He mutters into my mouth, his warm breath mingling with mine. “I came here for my pussy. Now give it to me.”
He takes my mouth, sliding his tongue against mine, drawing on my upper lip with his teeth. Heat spreads from between my legs, my panties dampen, like a conditioned response to his sexual aggression in this building.
His kisses wander down to my neck followed by angry bites. I offer my nape up to him, like someone inviting a vampire to plunder. Tax grabs my ass, dragging me over to my desk. He sits me on its edge, pausing to unbutton his jacket. As he tears it off, I grab at his shirt buttons, undoing them as he grips behind my knees and yanks me towards him. My pen cup falls over and pens roll off the cliff of my desk one by one.
“Wait...wait...” I say, pressing a hand against his bare chest.
“No,” he growls, pushing my dress up.
“I have my period,” I say remorsefully, as if it’s my fault.
He pauses, tilting his nose into my neck, as if caught off guard. A faint sigh blows along the fine hairs on my neck.
For a moment, it seems as if the mood might change.
But then Tax laughs into my neck, his breath tickling the crook behind my ear. He straightens up, looking at me through his chocolate-colored eyes. “Mia, do you think a little blood scares me?”
“Well, I didn’t think—“
“I don’t give a shit about your period.” He pulls my panties to the side and gently tugs on the string of my tampon so that it taunts my pussy with promises of pleasure. “Do you want to do the honors, or should I?”
Jesus-h, why do I find this so hot?
“Which do you want?”
“Smart woman.” He looks at me through eyes heavy with arousal. “Why don’t you pull it out for me? Slowly.” His voice is raspy and low, emerging from a deep place of yearning.
Tax steps back for a better view. I come to my feet and let my panties fall to the floor, then slide back on the desk and bite my lip as I slink my dress up again. Tax watches with a devious smile as he unbuttons his pants and reaches in to pull out his dick. His thick fingers grasp the shaft, and twist up and down as he draws out a lingering breath. He watches me through hooded dark eyes as I stroke my fingers down my inner thighs, to my knees, and push my legs open.
“Your cunt is fucking gorgeous, babe,” he tells me.
I lick my lips as I trail my fingertips back up my inner thighs, reaching for the white cotton string.
“Pull it out. Slow. Let it tickle your pussy lips as it comes out.”
Holy hell he is so kinky.
I tug on the string firmly this time, jarring it loose. I just started my period, so the dryness causes some discomfort, but once it’s free, I slink it out gradually, letting the fibers tickle against the flesh of my opening.
Goosebumps raise on my arms and thighs as Tax watches me do the filthy act while massaging his cock. I hover the string over the trashcan and it makes a small thud as it falls to the bottom.
Tax stands up, still holding his girthy, curved cock in his hand. He comes over to me, and glides it up and down my opening. “My perfect little slut,” he says to me. It’s a term of endearment. I’m a slut for him and no one else.
“Are you going to be able to stay quiet?” Tax asks. He makes me scream.
“Do I have a choice?”
“Here’s an insurance policy,” he says, grabbing his tie and rolling it into a ball. I open my mouth without being prompted. “Now I am going to fuck you hard. I’m gonna hurt you, just the way you like it.” He props a breast on the neckline of my dress and rolls his thumb on my nipple. “And you are going to keep quiet.”
I jut my hips back and forth, signaling that I will comply. He spits in his hand and strokes his thick cock, glaring at me like a predator honing in on his prey. And then his eyes narrow as he thrusts deep into me. I moan loudly and it’s only muffled by the tie in my mouth.
“Mia, you didn’t last one fucking pump,” he groans. “You need to do better.”
I nod intently. Again, he plunges in and out of me. I collapse my face into his warm chest as I wrap my arms around him to muffle my sweet agony. He propels himself deep inside, pulling on the flesh of the back of my thighs so that we crash into each other with every pump. “Mia, your pussy is always mine, I don’t give a fuck what time of the month it is,” he groans out between one of his powerful thrusts.
The skin of my thighs burn from the friction of his grip, but it only helps accelerate the blazing need erupting from my core. He lifts me off the desk and crashes back onto a chair.
“Fuck me Mia. Use my cock to make yourself come.” His fingers drag down the sleeves of my dress so that my breasts fall out.
I plant my feet on the ground and bounce up and down on his rigid firmness. Instantly the buildup begins.
“Make your fucking tits bounce,” he says, squeezing them both together in his hands as he runs his wet lips against my nipples then tugs one with his teeth. “Make that dirty pussy come on my cock, Mia. Come all over it.”
His hips join up to meet mine each time I land down on his dick, and the depth he reaches sends ripples of energy from deep inside. I clamp my mouth down on the tie and bury my face into his neck tat, letting it muffle the sounds of my orgasmic cries.
Tax lets out a sigh from deep within his chest as he uses his own strength to pace me and I let out another groan as his fat cock expands, shooting his cum far inside me.
I lay on his heaving chest for a few minutes, my eyes navigating the collage of scars on his chest. Once they were like his tattoo, just a physical manifestation of his mysteriousness. But now, when I look at them, my heart hurts for him. And then I get angry. I try not to show it, because he doesn’t need any more anger in his life, but the scars remind me what an unjust place the world can be. And yet, despite the injustice, beauty emerges. His scars shield a beautiful physique, ruggedness and beauty combined, they are uniquely Tax. I never looked at them as a flaw, but as a signature. When I used to trail my fingers along his chest, he would lock up, but now, it’s different. There’s no secret. And he knows I am not the one who ripped his flesh open.
I glide my index finger along the mound of his pecs, occasionally encountering the raised flesh. I feel him watch me in silence. There’s something in the air between us, like he wants to say something, but holds back. It’s okay. I know he’ll tell me when he’s ready.
It used to fill me with feelings of rage when she touched my scars. How dare she take the liberty of touching the brutality I endured at her behest? How dare she fucking pretend like her touch could heal me? It would take everything inside of me not to lash out, but even then I was battling something.
Even when I thought she was the one who set me up, her bold touch made me feel things I had never allowed myself to feel. And now, as she runs her delicate fingers along the permanent reminders of the suffering Jude and I endured, I no longer feel conflicted. I can just allow whatever it is that happens when she touches me.
When I was a kid, I used to have a compulsion to destroy soft, pretty things. If I walked by a patch of beautiful flowers, I would stomp on them. If I saw a bush blooming, I would grab a branch and beat it until the ground was littered with scattered petals. Things that were born beautiful, that were watered and tended to, agitated me. Nothing should be that easy. Softness should be defiled, and true beau
ty should be earned.
Mia lets me still fulfill that compulsion. But with her, I can do it without destroying her beauty. She is strong and compassionate, and unlike those flowers that withered and died when I ravaged them, she blossoms. There’s no one like Mia. She is delicate and fierce. She comes alive when she faces my ugliness.
I think she understands that, but I’ve never really said it. I can’t push the words out from my thoughts. I did it once, fourteen years ago, and when I did, everything fell apart. I don’t want this to fall apart. I don’t want this to end. Maybe if I don’t say it, it can’t go away. She can be vulnerable for the both of us, but I won’t ever open up. Whenever I do, the cruelty of the world finds a way to seep through those fissures.
So instead of words, I give her sex and touch and hope she understands that’s all I can give. I’ve already warned her that’s all I have at my disposal.
When Mia told me she had her period, my first gut feeling was disappointment. It was pure instinct. Somewhere in my bones I yearned for something to express the closeness I feel to her. I fucking suck at showing it, or saying it. And there is no greater connection than a child. But moments after, relief washed over me. We can really move forward, free from the consequences of the lies I believed about her.
And so there’s one other thing I will do for her. Something she will never know. I’m not replacing the next set of birth control pills with placebos. Because Mia deserves a choice. And it’s no longer the strategy to keep Jude happy while having Mia in my life. If Mia and I ever have a child, it will be because we both want to, not as an offering to Jude. Jude will have to learn to accept things just as I have. What I have with Mia belongs to us and only us. No one else can have a piece of it.
I grab her hand, so small curled up in mine, and nibble the fingertip that grazed my chest.
“I’ve got a flight to catch, babe,” I tell her.
“I know. This meeting is also beginning to run suspiciously long. Laney probably has her ear up against the door,” she sighs.
My phone rings and I glance over. It’s Jude. I haven’t spoken to her since she came over to my building that morning. I have been meaning to stop by, but most of my free time has been with Mia and now I had this last minute trip come up. I ignore the call. I’ll get in touch with her as soon as I get back from the trip. There’s no point in trying to catch up with her over the phone. She’ll just bitch and moan like she always seems to do these days. I shoot her a quick text telling her I am going out of town and I’ll talk to her when I get back. Then I toss the phone to the side and get back to talking to Mia.
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