Dirty in Charge

by Luke Steel

  I pull up for air and look down at her. She writhes in my grip but closes her thighs tight around me to try and prevent my escape.

  “Like I said, this isn’t your job. But that doesn’t mean you’re in charge.”

  She lifts her chin and smirks. “You sure?”

  At once, I press her thighs open and pull back, yanking her up with me. And with a little wrestling move I learned a long time ago in college, I flip her over so she’s on all fours in front of me. Emma squeals in surprise and then lets out the sexiest goddamn moan I’ve ever heard as I slip my hand through her legs and start to stroke her pussy through the fabric again.

  She stretches low like a cat, her back arched. Every line of her body is pure sex. Rather than shy or shocked, the look she gives me over her shoulder is a hot challenge.

  I loom over her and put my hands in her hair with a strong, firm pull, arching her up further, my mouth at her neck. She moans again, and I feel her whole body tremor. She wiggles and pushes back against me. Her skirt is full up over her hips now, the globes of her sweet ass inviting and irresistible. I sit back to get my belt and slacks open, and Emma reaches behind her and slips a hand down my boxers. The slide of her hand on my cock is slick with my pre-cum. I won’t last if I let her play too long. I retaliate and smack her luscious ass once, twice. Her body surges again, another moan bubbling up, higher this time.

  Another tug, and I have her up and on her knees in front of me. My arms come around her, one across her tits to hold her tight to my chest, the other slipping down to her pussy. She starts moaning and doesn’t stop now, her hands closing over mine, urging me on. She pulls her panties to the side to let my fingers make contact, and when I feel that hot, wet slit open to me, I press two fingers deep into her. A shockwave rolls through her as I make contact and she finally leans forward, both hands on the floor to let me do what I want. She’s so wet and tight on my fingers, I almost come right there. My cock is about to explode, but I’ve also been craving the taste of this pussy all fucking day.

  She writhes again when I hook my fingers higher and twist up. She’s tight and wet on my hand, I pull my hand free and bring two fingers up to her lips so she can taste herself.

  “Lick. Show me how you want my tongue on your pussy again.” She moans and then swirls her tongue and flicks once, twice before I press my fingers into her mouth and let her suck. The whole time she’s grinding her ass back against me, and the wet, slippy heat of her is just dripping and ready for my cock.

  I dip my fingers down to her pussy again, spreading the lips. She jerks and moans as my fingers graze her clit, and she reaches back to grip the fabric of my pants in a tight fist to hold on. I hold her tighter so she can’t move while I strum and play with the sensitive nub, every few strokes dipping my fingers back into the tight, wet heat, then back up again. It’s not long before I feel a quivering shake begin deep inside her. We’re both still on our knees. The ache in my cock is close to pain, I want inside her so badly. Her hips started a grind that never quite stopped and we both cry out and stop moving when I shift and the bare skin of my dick comes into contact with her pussy. I can feel the head push along her slick folds and stop just at the edge of sliding in. We both freeze.

  There are condoms in my pocket and I just have to reach for them, but the unexpected bareback contact is so goddamned tempting, I have to bite her shoulder to stop myself. She stopped moving when we made that full contact, but I can still feel her hot heat and the pulses inside her. On a groan I close my eyes and will myself to stay absolutely still. If she moves even a little, I’m going to shove my cock straight into her, consequences be damned.

  Emma pants, still gripping me. She surges once, as though she can’t help playing with fire, and then we stop again. I’m so fucking close, all I have to do is push once with my hips and then I won’t be able to stop once I’m in her. I want to come inside her—my body is fucking screaming to do it.

  Maybe she thinks she’s helping, or maybe she’s just doing it to torture me, but Emma drops a hand down between her legs and strokes me, pressing my cock against her pussy. Her body is tight and still but I feel her fingers close around my cock, the head just at her entrance. The hot, wet heat of her just makes it easier to slide back and forth, and she starts grinding against the tip. Holy fuck, is she trying to kill me? She keeps simultaneously flicking her hips and gripping my cock, circling her entrance, torturing us both.

  “Do you have… I’m not on anything…” her voice is high-pitched and fragmented. So raw, in fact, it finally dawns on me she wants it as much as I do. Which, oddly, makes me feel calmer. I’m not the only one suffering here.

  “Yeah, I have something. Rubber is in my pocket.” I nip at her ear and do a little of my own torture, pushing my cock against her pussy, feeling her wetness bathe the entire tip before I pull back. Her body stiffens briefly, and then she moans hard. “But you want it too, don’t you? Want my dick inside you, nothing between us.”

  In answer, she reaches overhead and pulls at my hair, grinding back, not holding back now.

  I’m going to fuck her until neither of us can stand, but first I want a taste of what I’ve been craving all day. I nudge her forward and onto her hands so that her ass is high in front of me. I drag her thong out of the way and bury my mouth on her pussy from behind. Christ, she’s just as delicious as I remember. I lave at her clit with my tongue, but I can’t stop myself from sweeping my tongue into that honeyed core, the taste driving me to the edge.

  She can’t pull at me from this angle, can’t grip, can’t pull away—she can only take what I give her. And from the sounds she’s making—that and the sweet slick rush as she comes all over my face—I can tell she loves it, too.

  As her moans subside and her body starts to shake, I pull up and flip her over onto her back again. Her thighs fall open, and she’s limp and completely open to me as I finally fetch the condom out of my pocket, and roll it down. I peel her panties off and grip my heavy cock in my hand.

  “Think you can take any more, baby?”

  She’s soft and pliant when she nods, but her eyes are glowing, hungry. She reaches up for me as I come down, her thighs closing in that same sweet grip as I finally place the head of my cock back at her entrance. No more teasing.

  I bury my face into the crook of her neck and push deep into her in one hard thrust. I almost stop, though, when I feel her body resist. Damn it, I should have known better. I’m not a small man, and this is true for every part of my anatomy.

  Emma’s lips are open, her whole body taut. I grit my teeth to stay still so she can adjust. Another slow torture—all I want to do is start pumping inside her until we both shake apart.

  “Shh, take it, honey. It won’t hurt once it’s all the way in.” I kiss her and let her grind on me, her pussy still slick and wet from when I made her come a few moments before. Her thighs spread wider, her neck arched back. She makes a high keening moan as the rest of my cock works into her, and then her body shudders hard. I continue the kiss, loving the way she kisses back, clinging hard, her tongue flicking frantic and fast in my mouth.

  Ah, goddamn, I’ve never felt anything like Emma in my life. The fit, the way she starts pulsing around me the second I’m all the way in her, is like heaven. I can’t focus when I feel her start to fuck me back, stroke for stroke. I lean up and keep pumping into her, gently at first, then harder, watching and hearing the pleasure as she pants, pleads.

  I’m so intent on driving her, pushing her, I don’t realize that it’s almost out of my control when the heat and pulses begin at the base of my cock and start to shoot through me.

  “Ah, baby, I’m going to come. I’m going to…” I drop my forehead down to hers. She laughs and then cries out again when I stroke harder.

  Faster, higher. Emma’s hands are in my hair, her hips flicking up and back now, her pussy so tight and warm around me I can’t stop it when the orgasm rips through and crashes over me. Over and over and over. Her pussy is tight
as a vice when I feel her clamp down right at the last second and she comes with me. The sweetest ride I’ve ever had.

  A little while later, Emma’s pushing up and on all fours, searching for her panties, when I grab her back and settle her in my arms, her body spooned in mine. Much as I love her on all fours, this is the second time I’ve pulled her back.

  She giggles and sighs. “I have to go.”

  “No, you don’t,” I say, and press my cock to her ass to show her I’m going to be up for round two in just a minute.

  She snuggles back for a moment, and the way she shimmies, my growing erection settles right back into the notch of her thighs and pussy. I slide a hand under her and palm one of her breasts, latch onto her neck and tongue the skin there while I press my advantage. I feel her shudder and squirm more.

  After a moment she sighs and tries to lurch away again. “Really, I need to get going. It’s almost an hour to my hotel and I have to be back here at first light.”

  “Or,” I say, dipping my left hand between her thighs and feeling the wetness still here as I gently strum her clit. I switch and sink my fingers deep inside her and I repeat, “Or, you can stay with me tonight and then you don’t have to drive back in the morning.”

  I keep going. Her leg hooks back on mine while I work her pussy with my fingers, her breath short and fast.

  “They’ll see me in the morning. They’ll know.”

  “We’ll sneak you down long before anyone gets here. It’s more comfortable in my bed. You’ll get more sleep this way.” Maybe.

  I keep going. She reaches back and holds onto my thigh, digging her nails into the flesh as I drive her higher. Her pussy lips are swollen and soft against my fingers, sparking the memory of how she came earlier.

  “But I—ah!” Whatever objection she was going to try is swallowed up with another twist of my fingers. “Ok, ok, I’ll stay. I’ll stay.”

  “Good girl.”

  Before she can think or move again, I push up off the floor, and let her roll back and under me. I hook her left leg over my shoulder and bend my mouth down to her slit, running the flat of my tongue along the pillow soft lips. Her legs try to clamp shut around my head, and she moans when I press her open on the floor and work her clit with my tongue, her juice all over my mouth and chin.

  And then it’s on. I don’t let up on her clit, driving her hard and close with a constant flick of my tongue. She’s shaking under my tongue, literally driving her hips up and off the floor, but I have the leverage to pin her down and keep her still. I can tell she’s close again when her moans turn to near shrieks, and she’s holding my head to her with a fist in my hair, even as she tries to buck and hold off.

  “So good, it’s so good, please…” over and over. The pitch of her voice gets higher and higher until finally, it breaks, and the waves are so strong in her, I can feel her pussy pulse and contract against my lips.

  I take her through all of it, licking and kissing the inside of her thighs as the aftershocks subside. She’s limp as a doll when I push away and come up for air.

  Climbing up and over her, I lean into her ear and whisper, “I’m glad we agree.”

  Her eyes are closed and she’s laughing when she smacks my shoulder. “Joke’s on you. I can’t move. I guess we’re sleeping on the floor.”

  “I’ll carry you.”

  Jumping up, I lift her up into my arms. She protests and I set her down, though I get to feel a surge of pride when she’s unsteady on her legs.

  “If you can make it up to the house, I can make it so you can’t walk the rest of the night.”

  Her mouth is sweet and pliant when I kiss her. I brush the hair out of her face and hold her to me again, already plotting what’s next when we’re up there.

  “Deal,” she says.

  I’m a man of my word.

  Eight

  James

  Blackout curtains only work when they’re closed. A slice of morning light cuts through the room, directly in my face. I throw a pillow at the window, but that only knocks them further apart. I flop over onto my stomach and bury my face in the bed.

  Vanilla. Emma.

  With a start, I shove up onto my fists and look around the bed, the room. Not a trace of her except the scent she left on my sheets. I reach for her pillow and bury my face in it, trying to remember if I woke up at all, or sensed when she left. I hate that she’s gone, but I know she’s working.

  I don’t remember anything after we finally fell asleep. I remember everything before that, though. There’s no logical explanation for how I have any fluid left in my body at all, much less blood for an erection, but morning wood is likely going to punching a hole through the mattress as I recall all of it.

  Emma.

  Emma.

  I told her she’d be more comfortable and get more sleep if she stayed. More comfortable? Infinitely, yes. More sleep? Ha. Poor Emma didn’t get to sleep until I ran out of condoms, and even then I couldn’t keep my hands off her for very long. She fell asleep in my arms, and I wasn’t far behind.

  And now I’m in bed alone. This sucks. I want Emma.

  I jump out of bed and I’m in and out of the shower in 5 minutes. The tile was wet before I started, so I know she was here.

  Imagining Emma in my shower gets me through the time it takes to drag on a sweatshirt and some basketball shorts before I’m hustling down the stairs on the hunt for my girl. I feel a little anxious because I have to find her before I can talk to her. I can’t call or text her cell because I still don’t have her number!

  Where is everybody?

  The house has been bustling for days, but there’s barely any signs of life on the lower level when I make my way down.

  Heading in the direction of the kitchen, I hear hearty laughter and lots of different voices coming from the back end of the hall. I push through the swinging doors and into a circus.

  It’s backward day. The kitchen and attached breakfast room are large enough to accommodate a banquet hall of people, but instead of the familiar family faces at the tables, I see Renaissance Events crew and staff seated at the rounds. And then I see my parents, along with Joe, Lena, and some other cousins and aunts walking between the tables, pouring juice or serving up heaping plates of pancakes to everyone.

  “Hey sleepyhead!” my mother calls to me. She gestures for me to come over to where she’s standing and plops me to belly up to the kitchen counter. A coffee mug and glass of juice appear like magic. To my right, a giant hulk of a man wearing mirror Ray-Bans and a black Renaissance Events t-shirt is sitting at the bar with me, tucking into a giant stack of white and chocolate pancake. By the brute squad looks of him—a mean-looking bald guy with muscles the size of cannons—I’m guessing he’s one of the security team.

  “Mornin’,” I venture.

  “Morning, Mr. Blake.” The man nods at me then goes back to his breakfast.

  Just then my mother bumps in between us, all five-foot-five of her busy motion and sunshine.

  “Morning, dear.” She’s got a hold of a giant coffee pot bigger than she is, and she pours a cup for me and kisses my forehead like I’m six. Her long silver hair is pulled up in a ponytail. Security guy smiles behind his sunglasses like it’s the most adorable thing he’s ever seen.

  “Hi. Um, what’s going on? Don’t you want to sit down while someone gets you—“

  She shushes me, “No, no, we wanted to do it. Your father and I are just so impressed with the house and the job these lovely people are doing, we wanted to be nice and treat all the house staff to breakfast, since they’re so very nice to your brother and Lena.”

  “Well, yeah, that was kind of the idea when we hired them.”

  “When you hired them, certainly, but this is the least we can do. Don’t you think they’re doing a nice job?”

  She’s so earnest, all I can do is not argue and just watch the spectacle. My dad is walking up and down rows of tables, passing out bagels and pastries to family in pajamas, and Rena
issance Event crew members in black.

  “Oh, and do you want pancakes?” my mother asks. I shrug and nod and she calls over her shoulder, “Emma, dear, are there any more of those marble bliss cakes left?”

  Aaand forget the damn the coffee, but my mother calling out Emma’s name in the middle of the kitchen does more to wake me up than the coffee ever could.

  The little crowd parts and that’s when I spot Emma. The back of her anyway. Though come to think of it, I have grown rather fond of her backside. There are two apron strings hanging down her back, and when she turns I see that she is indeed wearing an apron.

  For a moment, it’s hard to reconcile that this same woman spent the night in my bed. Last time I saw her, she was flushed and panting, her hair was wild and spread out over my sheets. I also had her flat on her back. This morning version of my girl is cool and collected Emma, horn-rimmed glasses safely in place, her hair tied back at the base of her neck in a twist.

  Lena is standing next to her, holding a plate as she watches Emma slip pancakes from the frying pan and pile them high in the center.

  “Morning, Jamie,” Lena says when she sees me, and holds up the platter. “We had a pancake off! I made vanilla sweet cream flapjacks, and Emma made marble bliss.”

  “Marble bliss is chocolate?”

  My mother pats my hand and calls to the girls as she walks away with her coffee pot, “Jamie likes chocolate. Emma, would you bring a few over?”

  Emma meets my eye but resolutely turns away when I grin at her. She reaches for a plate in one of the cabinets, and Lena helps her slip a couple of the pancakes onto my plate.

  I’m pretty content to watch this homey little scene. Even more so to admire the swish and sway of her hips as she brings the plate over balanced on her fingertips. I don’t think she does sexy on purpose, which is another giant reason I like her so much. But she is sexy. God, she’s perfect.