by Cassidy Coal
She thought she was done, that there was nothing else he could wring from her flesh, but he kept going.
He massaged her butt with his thumb as he continued to penetrate her with his fingers, and then, before she even knew what he was doing, he inserted his thumb into her ass, working fingers in her pussy and thumb up her ass to bring her to the most intense orgasm yet. It exploded under her skin, a cool fire spreading through her entire body like she'd been electrocuted, the current racing through her skin, seeking escape.
But it had nowhere to go, so it built and built, the intensity so extreme she couldn't even voice her pleasure. She was strangled, her throat constricted. All she could do was bite the comforter and ride the wave of fire as it consumed her.
He finally stopped then, pulling away from her.
She lay there, gasping. She could barely remember her name or where she was or even who he was.
He lay beside her on the bed and stroked her hair, softly, gently, as she recovered herself.
"Did you like that?" he asked, smiling that little half-smile of his.
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
"Good. Rest now." He kissed her on the forehead and left.
Sarah dropped into a deep, dreamless sleep, her body exhausted.
She awoke alone. There were still three hours until they landed.
She went to find Tyler, not bothering to clothe herself.
He was slumped in his chair, asleep, a notepad open on the table in front of him. He looked so young, so vulnerable, she just stood there and watched him for a long moment.
He'd just given her the most pleasure any man had ever given her. Ever. As in, for the entire length of the relationship.
She wanted to please him the way he'd pleased her.
She knelt beside him and took his hand in her mouth, slowly kissing the base of his wrist. As he stirred awake, she took his thumb in her mouth, sucking on it like she wanted to suck his penis.
He opened his eyes and looked down at her.
She smiled up at him, letting his hand go. "Come with me?" she asked, holding her hand out to him.
He took the hand and let her lead him back to the bedroom.
She undressed him slowly, kissing every inch of flesh as it was revealed, trailing kisses along each arm, along his chest, his belly button, up each calf and thigh; he smelled clean, crisp, pure. So different from any man she'd known before.
He was still half-asleep. He laid back with his eyes closed as she touched and tasted every inch of him. There was one part of him, though, that was most definitely awake.
She circled around his erection, waiting, wanting, denying herself and him until it was just too much. And then, when she couldn't hold back any longer, she pulled his boxer briefs off his body and paused, admiring his beautiful penis. It was like him. Not too long or too thick. Just right. It had a slight curve, like a samurai sword.
She circled her tongue around the tip, her hands cupping his balls. He sat up, not saying a word as he watched her service him. She ran her tongue the length of his shaft before finally taking him in her mouth.
She locked eyes with him as she moved her mouth up and down, watching his every reaction. He tried to keep his face calm, but soon she saw the tightening at the corner of his eyes as the pleasure built. She quickened her pace, taking him deeper into her mouth, moving up and down, up and down, faster and faster, until he came, his hot spunk filling her mouth.
She pulled away, letting him see as she swallowed his seed.
She smiled at him and he brought his mouth to hers, kissing her deeply, hungrily, devouring her mouth with his.
He pulled her to the bed and pinned her body under his. Already she could feel him recovering, his erection pressing against her thigh.
He pinned her hands to the bed next to her head as he brought his mouth to hers, pressing his body against the length of hers. His thigh moved between hers, pushing her legs apart, so he could enter her in deep, slow, steady movements.
When he was finally all the way inside, he smiled down at her, his green eyes almost glowing with pleasure as he started to move inside her.
He started slow, barely moving back and forth. Just a little out and a little back in, but as he saw the fire kindle in her eyes and felt her body respond to his, he picked up his pace, pulling out further and thrusting back inside, harder and harder.
She wrapped her legs around his hips, taking him deeper than either of them had thought possible, and he gasped as he pushed into her.
He released her wrists and she grabbed his ass, digging her fingers into his flesh, pulling him closer and closer with each thrust, willing her body to merge into his. He lifted her hips to deepen his angle and she gasped as he hit a spot that made stars dance behind her eyes and waves of pleasure spread through her body.
"You liked that?" he asked, hitting the spot again and again.
She couldn't speak, she was so lost in the sensations coursing through her body. All she could do was pull him tighter, willing him to continue.
He did, fucking her harder and faster and deeper until they both cried out, their bodies convulsing with the power of their orgasm.
He collapsed against her, almost instantly asleep.
Sarah held him close, relishing the feel of his body against hers, of his manhood still inside her as he slept, perfectly content, perfectly at ease in her arms.
The next day was what she'd expected from this trip. She spent sixteen hours in a small office looking at page after page of financial calculations. She hated every moment of it. But she remembered the night before, Tyler Corrigan's beautiful body tucked against hers, and she didn't care.
When she returned to his hotel suite that night, she was exhausted. All she wanted was to sleep. Tyler didn't even pressure her for sex, he just had her stretch out on the bed and massaged her body until she was so fully relaxed, so completely at peace, that she drifted off into a deep sleep more peaceful than any she could remember.
Sarah lay in bed the next morning, not wanting to get up. It was Christmas, and the last thing she wanted to do was go into the office and review more financial statements.
But she had to. Horowitz had been right. It was a mess. She'd need every single hour she could find before the end of the year.
She reached for Tyler, but he wasn't there. Grumbling to herself, she grabbed a robe and stumbled her way out of the bedroom into the living room area.
She stopped in the doorway, her mouth hanging open.
"Do you like it?" he asked, smiling at her like a little child.
She stared around the room, amazed. The room had been transformed while she slept. There was a six-foot Christmas tree in the center of the room with beautifully-wrapped packages underneath. And a fresh evergreen garland draped along the walls. Candles burned everywhere, casting a warm romantic glow on the scene.
"I love it." She kissed him, relishing the feel of his mouth against hers.
He pointed to the table where two stockings hung, one with Sarah stenciled on it in glitter, and one with Tyler on it.
She squealed in delight. "You got us stockings?"
He nodded and she remembered that this was his first real Christmas. She kissed him, deeply, passionately. "I couldn't imagine a more perfect Christmas," she whispered, staring into his beautiful green eyes.
"Neither can I." He kissed her back. "Here's to this being the first of many."
"To the first of many," she agreed.
They walked over to the table hand-in-hand. This really was the best Christmas ever.
A Mile High Valentine
Sarah Baxter sat in the back of the large conference room, her arms crossed under her chest, frowning at the gorgeous man on the TV screen. Tyler Corrigan looked as great as ever with his jet black hair and piercing green eyes.
Bastard.
Jane, her best, and only, friend in the office, elbowed her in the side.
"Sarah, the arms…" she hissed through her tee
th.
Sarah glared at Jane, but she uncrossed her arms. Sometimes it was a frickin' curse to be busty, especially when you worked in a place like Corrigan, Inc. where every other woman seemed to be rail-thin and a size A cup. Sarah stuck out like a sore thumb.
Always had. Always would.
She should just quit. Beat having to hear everyone silently judging her for her low-class roots. They never said anything. That would be too crass. But the slight frowns of disapproval as she tottered into a meeting on her too-high heels or the slight sniffs as they glanced at her newest blouse, spoke volumes.
She glared back at Corrigan, her hands gripping the armrests of her chair. He'd tried to "help" her when they'd returned from that magical trip to Paris. Every girl's dream, right? Have some billionaire take you on a shopping spree to buy any and every outfit you possibly wanted?
She snorted and looked out the window, remembering how painful that day had been.
First, the places he liked to shop didn't exactly carry a wide variety of choices for women her size. Tyler kept grabbing size six outfits and holding them up for her to see. She didn't want to tell him what size she actually was, so she just waved him off.
And then there were his ideas of what colors she should wear. Beige, brown, ivory, white, black. Pink. And not a bright pink like she liked, but the pale pink of a delicate rose. Ugh.
Was that really how he saw her?
The whole experience had made her skin crawl. She felt like he was trying to change her, like she wasn't good enough for him. That stupid Beyoncé song, "Upgrade U", kept playing through her head the whole time.
And with every passing moment, Sarah just got more and more pissed. Especially when she walked out of the dressing room, pleased to show off an ivory silk blouse and a knee-length dark brown skirt and the saleswoman tsked and said, "Oh dear, that won't do. It's way too fitted in the hips and your breasts, my dear. Oh no. This will not work."
And Tyler had agreed with the woman, silently nodding his head.
That was it. Sarah stormed back into the dressing room, ripped the clothes off her body, threw on her comfortable jeans and t-shirt (which had absolutely scandalized the woman when they first arrived) and stormed out, calling to Tyler, "I'll find my own way home, thanks."
Tyler tried to call her a dozen or more times after that, but she sent him to voicemail. Even when he called at work, she sent the calls to voicemail. She knew that was dangerous. You don't just blow off the CEO of your company without consequences, but he'd never needed to speak to her before they'd slept together, so why should he now? He could always ask Mr. Horowitz whatever he needed to know.
Fortunately, he'd left two days later for a trip through the Asian-Pacific offices. Sydney, Hong Kong, Singapore. He'd been gone for almost three weeks now.
And Sarah had been doing just fine without him, thank you very much. She'd managed to bury herself in her work. Easy enough to do between the mess that was the Paris office—a senior executive had managed to siphon off almost three million Euros before he was caught—and all the year-end accounting.
But at night…Well, let's just say she'd spent a few more nights than normal at the local bar drinking with her high school friends and trying to forget the amazing way Tyler Corrigan had made her feel. The bastard had played her body like a frickin' master violinist.
Two weeks in Paris with the perfect man.
It was more than most girls got, right?
Right.
Too bad that perfect man had immediately morphed into your stereotypical entitled rich boy the minute they'd returned.
Well, whatever he'd become, it didn't change the magic of the time they'd spent together. They'd always have Paris…
She laughed to herself as she glanced back at the screen, studying him. He really was beautiful. No denying that. Jet black hair, emerald-green eyes. Perfectly dressed as always—this time in a navy blue suit with a crisp white collared shirt underneath. No tie. He never wore a tie except when a magazine like Forbes was running a profile of him.
He looked tired. Dark circles under the eyes, a certain tension around the mouth. It was subtle, but it was there. Sarah felt a momentary wave of concern and squashed it.
Nothing like he'd looked on Christmas Day. Then he'd been smiling, happy. They'd opened their packages—a veritable feast of local delicacies—laughing, kissing, touching the whole time.
She loved the way he'd delighted in every little bit of it and how he'd stared at her fascinated as she shared stories of her family Christmases. (He'd never celebrated Christmas with his own family. His parents thought it was a waste of time.)
She was supposed to go into the office that day but never had. They'd spent the rest of the day feeding each other treats as they lounged in bed, talking, touching, and sharing. She'd never felt closer to anyone in her life.
Not that she'd shared everything with him. She hadn't wanted to ruin the day with reality. No stories about her mom who still lived in a trailer park or her uncle who was in prison or her dad who'd been killed in a bar fight.
She didn't talk to anyone at work about that. And just because she'd slept with a man and he stared deep into her eyes and said he wanted to know everything about her didn't change that.
She'd had enough of being judged for being poor when she was in college. Now she just faked it. She hadn't lied to Tyler, she just hadn't felt the need to share the nitty gritty details.
Mr. Silver Spoon would never understand no matter how much he tried. What did he know about the shame of using food stamps? Or of only having one pair of hand-me-down jeans? Or not being able to play basketball because she couldn't afford to pay for the hundred-dollar activity pack?
He'd had everything he wanted, always. The combination of want, need, and shame that Sarah had grown up with were completely foreign to his experience.
The only thing he'd ever been denied was the love of his father. That they at least shared.
Hers was dead. His was just dead inside.
Oh well. It was over. Done with.
None of it mattered anymore, so why did she still think about him so much?
Maybe because the mere sight of him still made her quiver deep down inside. Or because that vulnerable look he had when he was talking about his childhood made her want to hold him close and protect him from the world.
As she watched him on the screen, she imagined for a moment that he was looking at her, studying her face the way she was studying him.
She shook herself. She was being silly. Why would he care about her anymore?
He'd given up calling after the first week. Probably moved on by now. Wouldn't be hard. Women were always throwing themselves at Tyler Corrigan.
He'd certainly had some beautiful woman draped on his arm at the launch party for the Sydney office. Tall, willowy, pale blonde almost white hair, porcelain skin. Perfect in every way. Just the type of woman to match him.
Sarah almost puked when she saw the photos in the company newsletter.
She stared out the window again, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment. Why was it so hard to let go of him? They would never work out. Girls like her didn't end up with guys like him. It just didn't happen.
Of course, that didn't keep her from dreaming about him every night.
"Greetings everyone," Tyler said. "I'm pleased to see you all for this first company call of 2015. I'm here in our lovely Hong Kong offices, soon to return to our Sydney office for another few weeks."
One of the five people who ever actually spoke on these calls, George Burns, head of the London office, interjected, "That's because it's summer there and you don't want to deal with the winter weather back in the States, I bet."
There was a polite chorus of laughter and Tyler nodded slightly. "All part of my launch strategy, of course. Open each new office when the best surfing opportunities exist." He smiled his little half-smile and Sarah looked away, suddenly angry.
He was so relaxed. Like losing what they'd shar
ed in Paris meant nothing to him.
Asshole.
She spent the rest of the conference call staring out the window, trying not to listen to Tyler's little rah-rah speech.
Maybe it was time for her to leave Corrigan, Inc. She didn't fit in and she never would. And, now, with what had happened between her and Tyler…
It was just too much.
Over lunch Sarah perused the want ads and realized they weren't exactly the way to go if she really did want to leave. Lots of entry-level jobs or jobs that paid about half what she earned. She wanted a fresh start, but this clearly wasn't the way to do it.
Crap.
Mr. Horowitz, her boss, walked up to her cubicle and she immediately spun around, turning her monitor to the side so he wouldn't see what she'd been doing.
"A little lunchtime shopping, Sarah? Don't worry, we've all done it at one time or another." He pushed his glasses back up his nose, looking every bit like Santa Claus. "Are you done with your lunch? I need to talk to you about something."
She glanced down at her half-eaten meal. Well, meal was a bit generous. It was one of those nasty diet bars that are dense as hell and taste like cardboard. She'd probably end up running down to McDonald's with Jane in ten minutes or so.
Kinda defeated the purpose when you ate a diet bar AND lunch, which is why her New Year's resolutions to lose weight always ended in miserable failure.
She threw the bar in the trash. "Yeah, I'm done. What do you need?"
"Come to my office. We'll discuss it there." He turned and walked away before she could react.
Sarah closed down the job search site and hurried to catch up to him.
Was he about to fire her? He hadn't even smiled. And lord knows she hadn't exactly been cheerful the last few weeks. She had done her job, though. No one could accuse her of slacking in that regard.
Then again, no one ever accused her of slacking. It was always her "attitude" that got her in trouble. She wasn't nice enough. She wasn't polite enough. She wasn't refined enough. Like dropping the f bomb every once in a while was really that big a deal.
