by Nikki Wild
He let go of my hand and reached down, unzipping his pants and pulling out his rock hard cock.
“Suck it,” he growled.
“What? Here, Bear?” I asked, already shaking my head no.
“On your fucking knees, Chloe!” he said, his voice low and seething.
“But Bear—,” I began to protest.
He reached up and grabbed my head, pulling me into him and kissing me hard on the mouth.
“Shut the fuck up!” he growled. “Suck my cock now!”
“What about the people?” I cried, my pussy twitching with excitement.
“I don’t care about them. I don’t care if they see you sucking my cock, Chloe. I want your mouth and I want it right this fucking instant, do you fucking hear me?”
I sighed with dismay, looking over my shoulder before sinking to my knees in front of him.
“Mmm, good girl,” he whispered, stroking my hair as I slid his cock inside of my mouth. “That’s it, baby, that’s so good.”
His words shot right through me, waking up that part of me that I’d been so unable to access earlier. I was so worried about the job, about not knowing what I was doing, about trying to figure him out and figure out what all of this meant, that I couldn’t focus on the way he made me feel. I’d been worrying way too much.
Until now.
His cock slid back and forth between my lips, the skin so soft and velvety and hard, all at the same time, his throbbing, pulsing sex coming to life in my mouth. I moaned, twirling my tongue around the head and sucking him in hard, my hand reaching up and gripping his shaft.
I melted into the act, but at the same time, I was terrified of getting caught. Don’t people get arrested for stuff like this? I wondered. I couldn’t imagine the security guards took too lightly to people fucking up here. We were in a dark corner and while we hadn’t yet been discovered, once again, just like on the trail, I could hear faint voices approaching. I moved faster, sucking harder, swirling my tongue around him as fast as I could, hoping he would come quickly and we could finish this somewhere a lot warmer and much more private.
He had other ideas, though.
“Stand up,” he commanded, pulling his cock from my grip.
I stood up, ignoring the pain in my knees from kneeling. I met his gaze and saw the fiery passion there that I’d come to love. Something stirred in me, as if he was creating a storm inside of me and churning it up into some kind of furious wild abandon that gripped my soul.
He turned me around, his hands on my waist as he pushed me up against a window. He reached down, pulling my skirt up around my hips and exposing my bare ass and pussy to all of New York City.
“Isn’t this exciting?” he growled. “You could get caught at any moment, Chloe, then everyone will know what a slut you are.”
I groaned, my pussy spasming at his words, my nipples hardening into tiny little pebbles of forbidden arousal.
His hand landed smartly on my ass, smacking it hard before he plunged his cock inside of my pussy. I was already wet. So fucking wet. And within seconds, I was writhing on his hardness, loving the delicious smooth slide of his piercing cock. He reached up and grabbed my hair, pulling my head back as he fucked into me. His other hand reached into the top of my dress, pulling out my breasts and pinching my nipples hard.
I cried out, unable to stay quiet during his relentless fucking. I spasmed around his shaft, coming hard and quick, pulsing around him as he pistoned in and out of me.
“Good girl,” he growled in my ear. “Yes, Chloe, come on my cock, that’s it, baby.”
I came hard, again and again, as he continued fucking me.
I was just catching my breath when I felt him pull out. I thought he was finished and started to raise myself up, but his hand landed on the middle of my back and he pushed me back down.
“I’m not done,” he said. My eyes flew open as I felt the head of his cock press against my asshole. I shook my head frantically.
“I don’t think I can do that, Bear,” I cried, looking over my shoulder at him.
“Yes you can,” he said, pressing forward. I whimpered, completely bewildered as to why he would attempt something like this here, on top of the Empire State Building, of all places.
I’d never been fucked in the ass before, not officially. Sure, I’d had fingers and vibrators, but that is nothing compared to a live, hard cock, as I was about to discover.
I felt the pain immediately.
Burning, searing, white-hot pain flashed through my body as he slid inside of me.
“Bear!” I cried, doing my best to stay still.
He began thrusting in and out of my ass slowly and at first, I couldn’t believe how much it hurt. Hot, stinging tears welled up in my eyes.
“Oh, baby, baby,” he growled behind me, kissing my neck. “You’re so fucking tight. So warm. So fucking perfect.” He reached around me, finding my clit and slowly rubbing it as he slowly fucked in and out of me. Within seconds of him touching my clit, the pain began to change into hot waves of pleasure bubbling up inside of me, my pussy once again flowing like a river.
A deep moan escaped from my lips, the pain fading away completely until I was writhing in the purest pleasure, my body pressed up against the window as he pounded into my ass. Savage, raw, delicious passion ripped through me, turning every nerve in my body into a symphony of bliss that took over my entire soul, until I was coming again, my body seizing up around him as he continued to fuck into me. He swelled bigger and hotter inside of me, his cock throbbing as he exploded, his hot seed spilling out, burning me with his sweet release.
He fell against my back, panting, his cock sliding out of me, leaving me yearning for more. I moaned, turning my face back to his.
“That was incredible,” I said, my eyes wide with wonder.
“Better than the view?” he asked, a sly smile on his face. I pulled my skirt down and turned around as he pushed his cock back into his pants and zipped them up.
“Much better than the view,” I whispered, a sense of something I couldn’t quite name rushing over me.
Was it love? It felt like love. It felt like I’d never felt before. My heart was full and all I wanted to do was fall into his arms. I’d never done that before and I’d certainly never expected that to happen in a place like this, let alone with a man like him.
Suddenly, I felt so vulnerable. I wanted him to hold me. I wanted him to kiss me gently and tell me everything really did make sense, even if it didn’t seem that way.
But he didn’t. He turned away, taking in the view, as if he hadn’t just plunged himself into my most sacred place.
“Let’s go,” he said, walking away from me, his gait a little unsteady. Silently, I followed him, studying his back for some sign of emotion.
Nothing.
We got back in the elevator and he didn’t touch me the entire ride back down. When we got back in the limo, he sat opposite me, reaching for more champagne.
I sighed, shifting gingerly. Between the bruises and welts still on my skin and the pounding he had just given my ass, I was pretty proud of the fact that I wasn’t crying out from all the pain. Now that he wasn’t inside of me, the pleasure had faded and the wincing and stinging was back in full force.
“How well do you know Zoe?” I asked, my words seeming to come from out of nowhere. I certainly hadn’t planned on letting them escape my stupid brain, but they fell out like a bunch of oranges from a shopping bag.
“Zoe?” he asked, confusion filling his eyes.
“Yes,” I asked, staring over at him. He squinted a second, then cocked his head.
“Why do you ask?”
“She seems to know a lot about you,” I remarked.
“She does?” he asked.
“Sure,” I said. “Did she tell you I met her in the bathroom? That wasn’t the first time, either. I saw her the first time at that steak house we went to.”
“She didn’t tell me any of that,” he shook his head. “What di
d she say to you? She can be a bit of a bitch sometimes.”
“She said you would eat me alive,” I said, raising my chin.
His laughter echoed through the limo and he slapped his knee.
“She told you that, did she?” he said, gasping for air.
“I’m glad you think that’s funny,” I said.
“Don’t you?”
“No, not particularly,” I said.
“Surely, you aren’t jealous of Zoe Rothchild, are you?” he said.
“What place do I have to be jealous of anyone?” I said, spitting out the words. Anger began welling up in side of me. Maybe it was because I was feeling so lost, so vulnerable. Maybe I just needed answers. Maybe none of this was for me and I didn’t have the skills to handle it.
“What do you mean by that?” he asked.
“Never mind,” I shook my head, looking away from him. I didn’t want any part of his piercing gaze. I didn’t want him to look right through me anymore. I didn’t want him to see my confusion, my uncertainty, my self-doubt. I hated being vulnerable.
I wanted him to see a sophisticated woman, like Zoe, when he looked at me. So far, I was pretty sure that wasn’t happening.
“Chloe,” he said. “Look at me.”
“Forget I said anything,” I replied, refusing to look his way. The limo pulled up in front of my apartment building and I took a deep breath. Putting my hand on the door handle, I turned back to look at him finally.
He looked confused and lost and buzzed.
“Chloe, what’s going on?” he asked.
“I can’t do this,” I said.
“Do what, darling?”
I shook my head, his beautiful dark eyes staring back at me, and I knew this moment would probably haunt me forever.
“This, Bear, I can’t do this. All of it.”
“Is it the job? Chloe, we can find something else for you to do, if you want.”
“It’s the job, yes. But it’s more than that. I can’t do this right now. I don’t even know what I’m doing!”
“Chloe, calm down. Everything is going to be fine.”
“No, it isn’t!” I cried. “I don’t even know who you are, Bear. One minute, you’re gentle and loving and the next minute you’re acting like I’m some whore you picked up in Times Square!”
“They don’t have whores in Times Square anymore,” he said, smiling.
I crossed my arms and looked away, shaking my head.
“Chloe, come on—,” he began, reaching for me.
I put out a hand and shook my head.
“No, Bear,” I said.
I got out of the car and stood on the sidewalk, staring down at him in the limo. I shook my head, my heart in my throat.
“I’m sorry, Bear,” I said, my voice quivering with emotion.
“Chloe, let’s talk about this.”
“Peaches.”
“What!” he yelled. “Chloe! Come on!”
I shook my head and walked away, tears spilling down my face.
Twenty-Seven
I sat on my terrace the next morning, a hot cup of coffee in my hands, as I listened to the sounds of the city below. Horns blowing, people yelling, car tires skidding and garbage trucks clanking, the song of the city echoing down the street and up into the air.
It was barely six a.m. and all this was going on below already.
I’d woken before dawn after crying myself to sleep, my dreams haunted by Bear’s face.
Now, in the light of day, the world seemed a little clearer. Now that I was alone and had some space and time to think, my decision seemed obvious.
Coming here to New York had been a whirlwind of unexpected adventures. I was beyond grateful for the opportunity to experience every minute.
But everything about New York was harsh and extreme. From the weather to the people, to the pace, to the expectations that had been put on me. I was a lily-white, thin-skinned, lightweight of a human. I’m sensitive. My heart is huge and open and raw.
How was I supposed to survive these conditions with this kind of disposition?
It’s not that I’m not strong.
I am really fucking strong. But this just isn’t me.
I’m strong, but I’m soft, too.
New York City is as hard as a diamond, with not a soft space to land in sight. I just couldn’t understand it. I couldn’t wrap myself around it. And I needed that in a home. I needed a place, a person, a home that I could melt into.
I’d thought maybe I’d found that in Bear. But he was just too much of everything—he was just like the city that had raised him. A big giant ball of tension and drama and intrigue and shock that never let up. I never had time to catch my breath around him. It had become almost impossible to relax.
And, now, more than ever, I wanted to relax. I wanted familiarity. I wanted friends and dive bars and rain.
More than anything, I wanted things to be clear.
Bear clouded my mind beyond belief.
I couldn’t have both. It was time to be honest with myself.
I finished my coffee and went into the bedroom, pulling my suitcase out of the closet. I packed slowly, my hands running over all the beautiful clothes he’d bought me as I put them away. When I was done, I walked into the spare bedroom that Bear had turned into my studio.
I’d not used it once the whole time.
I’d hardly been home at all, actually.
I trailed my hand over the brand new sewing machine, smiling wistfully at it.
“We could have had a lot of fun together,” I said, feeling a twinge of guilt that I’d never even turned it on. Bear was a good man. He was special and thoughtful and generous.
But he was so much more, more than I could handle. He may have seen something in me, but whatever it was, it wasn’t ready for the intensity that he brought to the table.
I turned off the light and closed the door, walking back to my bedroom to grab my phone. Sitting down, I pulled up the travel app and booked the next flight to Portland.
Twenty-Eight
“Mom,” I said into her voicemail, “I can’t make lunch today. Don’t be mad, but I’m going back to Portland. My flight leaves in two hours. I’ll call you when I arrive. I’m sorry, I tried, but New York just isn’t for me.”
I hung up, so happy she hadn’t actually answered the phone. I didn’t want to argue with her and I certainly didn’t want to explain everything to her. There weren’t enough lies that I could come up with right now to make anything I said sound normal.
I’m leaving because your billionaire boss made me his sex slave and took my ass virginity at the top of the Empire State Building and I don’t know how to emotionally process all of this shit?
Yeah, it didn’t sound like something one should say to a parent, did it?
I grabbed my bag, my stack of library books and left the keys and Bear’s credit card on the kitchen counter. My stomach dropped as I closed the door for the last time. I made my way down to the security desk and asked the security guy if he would please return the books for me. I was so thankful he agreed, because the thought of trying to figure out how to get back to the library on my own was not a pleasant one.
I walked outside to hail a cab and ran right into Max.
“Ready to go meet Ms. Matilda for lunch, ma’am?” he asked.
“Oh, Max! I forgot to tell you, I’m so sorry. I won’t need you today. I’m not going to lunch with my Mom after all. In fact, I won’t need you at all anymore. But thank you, you’ve been so helpful and kind.”
“Won’t need me at all? Why not, ma’am?,” he asked.
“I’m going back to Portland.”
“Oh?” he asked. “Mr. Dalton didn’t mention it to me.”
“He doesn’t really know yet,” I said. “I just decided this morning.”
He looked at me, squinting his eyes curiously.
“Oh, I see,” he nodded.
“Thank you, again, Max. I’ll just hail a taxi to the airport.”
“Oh, no, ma’am. Please let me take you.”
“That’s okay,” I refused.
“No, I insist. Mr. Dalton would be so upset if I let you go in a taxi.”
I sighed, looking into his kind eyes.
“Okay, then,” I relented, “thank you, Max.”
“It is absolutely my pleasure!” he said, opening the door. He took my bag and put it in the trunk and slid behind the wheel. The glass was already down and I was grateful for it. I didn’t want to be alone right now.
The car pulled away from the curb and Max looked at me in the mirror.
“What is Portland like?” he asked.
“Portland? You’ve never been?” I asked, thinking about it. “It’s—well, it’s kind of dreary, actually. It rains about nine months out of the year.”
“That sounds awful,” he said.
“I guess so. You get used to it.”
“When I first moved to New York,” he said, “I hated it. I couldn’t believe people lived in such a crowded place. I was particularly offended by the rats. They seemed so big and they were everywhere.”
“That’s how I felt the first time I visited,” I agreed.
“But you know what?” he asked. “Now, I don’t even notice them. I’m just like everyone else, just going about my business and ignoring them. I used to shudder in disgust every time I saw one. It’s amazing what you can get used to in time.”
I nodded, thinking about what he was saying. He was right. I’d gotten used to quite a lot in my life. I’d gotten used to not having a father. I’d gotten used to my absentee mother. I’d gotten used to the rain and dreary skies.
“I suppose one could get used to almost anything,” I said.
“It’s true,” Max nodded.
We were silent for a few minutes, before he spoke up again.
“Mr. Dalton will not be happy you are leaving,” he said.
“You don’t think so?” I asked. “I guess he’ll get used to that, too, won’t he?”
“Maybe,” he replied, “but maybe not.”
“I think he’ll be okay,” I said.
