by Hazel Jacobs
“Mr Cole?” the intern says, poking his head in the door. “Miss Rose is here to see you.”
“Send her in.”
Ava enters wearing a squeaky-clean gray blouse and black skirt. Her heels click on my hardwood floors as she steps closer. The moment she sees me, her smile shifts from polite–the smile she would have worn for my intern–into something more… anticipatory. She looks from me to the floor where we’d fucked and licks her lips.
How fucking lucky that I’ve stumbled on a woman as talented and interesting as her, and even luckier that she enjoys sex as much as I do.
“Come here, Little Rose,” I say, reaching out for her.
She likes that name. I know it must go against a lot of her ideas about women and their place in the bedroom, but no one can deny the flush of pleasure that covers her face when she hears it. She stalks to me, takes my hand, and leans up for a kiss.
I pull out of her reach.
“Here.” I hand her the envelope that I’ve had on my desk for two days–two days since I walked out of a meeting with my partner after almost an hour of convincing.
“What’s this?” she asks, taking it from me and slitting the top open with her fingernail.
“An offer.”
She freezes and looks at me with a frown on her pretty face. “An offer?”
“To work for Benson & Cole. As a first year associate. You’ll have the same duties that you have at Page’s firm, but with a better pay packet. And you will need to quit Fever.”
She worries her bottom lip and sets the envelope–opened but unread–down on the table. I feel my good spirits go down with it.
“I thought I made myself clear,” she says. “I’m staying at Page & Sons. I have no interest in making a change. Especially leaving Fever.”
I take her face in my hands and kiss her. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, Ava Rose is helpless in an assault of kisses. Sure enough, she slowly melts against me and I’ve already decided that there’s nothing like the feeling of a powerful woman draping herself over me.
“I want you here, with me,” I say, muttering against her lips so I can silence any protests she has before she can voice them. “You’re wasted at Page’s firm. You should be here, where you can grow. Where you can learn properly and not on the fly.”
She hesitates and I press my lips firmly to hers, kissing her until I feel myself starting to get hard. It’s been so long since I got hard from kisses alone. Though she’s young, somehow that makes me feel young just from being in the same room as her.
“I’m…” Ava pulls away so she can speak. “I’m grateful, believe me. But I don’t want this. I want you…” she says quickly when I start to pull away, “… but not this.”
That answer is unacceptable.
“You think you can get what you need with Page and Fever?” I ask her, crossing my arms over my chest. “You think wasting your time with losers at that firm will help your career?”
“Christopher, they’re not losers. Stop being such an ass!”
Ah–there’s that fire. That fire I love so much. She seems to be burning from within and all I want to do is smother her with my body.
“If you’re not interested in taking this… very generous offer I might add… then maybe you should leave anyway.”
She looks shocked and sputters for a moment, fumbling for words, before putting her hands on her hips and giving me a fierce glare—an unrefined but still very powerful glare. She’ll make a hell of a lawyer with some good mentoring.
“So if I want to be with you, I have to come and work for your company?”
“You’re better than that–”
“I enjoy Page & Sons. And I love working at Fever. I’ve explained all of this to you.”
“You’re surrounded by men at Fever, I hate it,” I say, and immediately know that I sound like a brat but she brings out that side of me. That side of me that resembles a little boy who’s seen something shiny and knows down to their very bones that they have to have it. I have to have her. I don’t care how low I have to sink to make that happen. “Don’t think I don’t see the way they’re looking at you while you’re serving them. I hardly see you as it is, and when I’m not around you’re surrounded by other men–”
“You hardly see me… then why don’t you make the time? No one’s forcing you to stay at work twenty-four hours a day. For Christ’s sake, we’ve only been seeing each other for over a week. This isn’t the time to be making major life decisions.”
I pull her to my chest, crushing her against me so she can feel every inch of my muscled-toned body against hers.
She doesn’t fight.
Whatever her words, when it comes to the physical she wants this as much as I do.
“I don’t like waiting,” I tell her. “I want you now.”
AVA
Christopher lifts me up by my ass, shoving me onto the desk and manhandles me into a position where my legs are spread and he can slot his hips between them.
“Stay with me,” he orders, and I know it’s not just about staying with him in the here and now. He wants me to take that damn job, and devote myself entirely to him and his firm. He runs his hands over my breasts and I sigh into the feeling. He pinches my nipple, hard, and I want to moan but I hold it in biting down on my lower lip.
I won’t give him his answer while he’s fucking me. I won’t let myself make that kind of decision while my head is only half-working.
I’m wet enough that I can feel it soaking through my panties. It’s a good thing I’m wearing thin pantyhose and I’m not ruining a pair of pants. He’s starting to become hard and I can feel it swelling against my pussy. The air fills with our harsh breathing and I glance over Christopher’s shoulder at the door, locked and sturdy, and wonder if his intern can hear us.
Will he hear me moaning in a few minutes?
I will definitely be moaning in a few minutes.
He reaches up to undo the first button of my blouse. When I go to help him, he slaps my hands away.
“Let me,” he orders.
Letting my hands fall to my sides, I allow him to take over undressing me, though he fumbles a bit in his impatience. I can feel his eyes raking over my skin as he slowly unbuttons my blouse. The air is warm and my nipples are already erect from arousal. When my blouse is gone and crumpled in a ball in the corner, he leans forward and takes one of my nipples in his mouth.
“Shit,” I gasp, immediately threading my fingers into his hair and holding him in place.
His hands are on my hips, holding me so tight it almost hurts, and he’s pressing his bulging pants against my crotch to let me know how much he wants me. It’s that feeling of having him pressed against me that turns me on the most.
I try to hitch my leg against his hip, to grind against him, and his hand leaves my hip to slap me hard on the ass. I groan. The slap sends sparks of pain as well as pleasure through me.
I almost expect him to scold me for being impatient, but he seems just as eager. My groans spur him on and he reaches between my legs to grapple with my pantyhose. The tell-tale rip of his irritated fingers tearing them splits the air. He pulls his hand away to knead my ass and it sends a fresh shot of arousal through my body. Christopher shoves his hand back into the hole he made in my pantyhose, pushes aside my underwear, and thrusts two fingers inside of me.
“Fuck.” I let my head fall back, enjoying the way my entire being seems to focus on his two fingers. He curls them and thrusts in and out, and my hips start to shift and curl to meet him.
Christopher pulls away from my nipple and the blast of cold air I feel makes me shiver again. He slides his free hand up my body, curls it into the hair at the base of my skull, and kisses me. I moan now, hard, because this is something arresting. His lips and tongue move over mine with expert precision and all I can do is hang on for the ride. There’s no way I can take control of this kiss. There’s just no way. He’s too good, too strong. His hands grip my hair with the kind of
feral power that makes me powerless to resist and I don’t want to.
When I start to thrust my hips harder, desperate for friction, Christopher growls into my mouth and pulls my hair, sharply putting an end to our kiss and looking me in the eye. His lips are pink and quirked up at the edges.
“You really want it, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I say, and realize I’m breathless. “Please.”
He pulls me into another kiss, before shoving me back so I’m lying on the desk with my legs splayed and my pussy open to the room. Christopher’s still fucking me hard with his fingers and he’s growling again and it’s hot. Even more so because the way he moves is so controlled. It’s like there’s two sides to him–the raw, animal lust that wants to ravish me, and the carefully controlled man who keeps a courtroom so enthralled. Rubbing against my clit, he sends toe-curling sparks right through me. I feel myself getting wetter by the second. While leaning down to bite down on the top of my breast, he hitches my leg around his hip again at the same time he delivers another squeeze to my ass.
“Oh my God,” I cry, throwing my head back and trying to arch my back to give him better access to my breast, while at the same time thrusting my hips. I must look ridiculous but I can’t bring myself to care.
He spanks me and sucks so hard on my breast it’s almost starting to hurt, before leaning back on his heels and begins to unzip my skirt.
“You’re so wet, aren’t you?” he asks. His voice is husky and low and I feel it running through me, stimulating almost as much arousal as the slaps and the grinding. “I can’t wait to taste you, baby.” He slides my skirt off before I can answer, then my panties, leaving me utterly exposed. I have never, in my life, met someone as commanding as the man now looking down at me like I’m a meal and he can’t decide where to start.
This man is going to destroy me.
He takes a moment to admire me, all stretched out on the desk and clearly eager for him. I’m not even trying to take control, I can’t. I’m pliant in a way that I could never be in any other situation–allowing myself to be maneuvered into position, accepting his touches–but at the same time I try to push back, to encourage him, to demand his touch.
My pussy is wet and I can imagine it shining as he plunges his fingers brutally into me. A dozen thoughts run through my head as he stares down at me. He lifts my legs up onto his shoulders and I moan when his face disappears into my skirt. There’s a brief moment before he touches me when he pulls his fingers out and I’m left bereft and empty. Then he runs his tongue over my clit and I throw my head back, bashing it hard on the mahogany surface but too blissed out to care about the pain.
He sucks my clit into his mouth at the same time he delivers another knead to my ass.
“Shit,” I gasp, arching my back whilst pressing my pussy more firmly into his mouth.
He sucks hard, pausing every now and then to swirl his tongue over me and squeeze the cheeks of my ass with both of his hands. It feels like the entire bottom half of my body is being stimulated. I quickly dissolve from gasping and moaning to swearing and writhing. He sucks particularly hard and makes me squirm so violently that I nearly pull myself out of his grip. I suddenly realize my hands have not been idle. I don’t know how it happened, but I’m clutching his head with my left hand, pressing him harder against me, while my right hand is fondling my breast in a way that reminds me of him.
Suddenly, his sucking stops and he runs the tip of his tongue over the surface of my clit so rapidly that the feeling is like he’s replaced his tongue with a vibrator. My voice leaves me, my brain goes haywire, and I fall over the edge of a powerful orgasm that runs through my entire body. I tweak my nipple without meaning to and my whole body spasms as the pleasure stretches through me in jolts of agonizing ecstasy. I lay for a moment on the desk, poised, before relaxing, muttering swear words as I go while feeling the last heavy throbs in my pussy.
Christopher dips his tongue down to run along the edge of the hole and I feel the muscles contracting around the tip of it. I shiver again.
“You’re fucking delicious,” he says while licking his lips. He stands up and drops my hips, unbuckling his belt and his lowering his zipper. I moan and spread my legs more, opening myself up to him, hoping for more and more and more.
But then, instead of shoving his cock inside of me, he rubs my clit with his thumb. He watches me with black eyes as I slowly come undone all over again. I feel my eyes rolling in the back of my head, and my hips thrusting up and up, humping his hand, until I come again.
I’ll never let this man go.
The girls at Fever sometimes complain about guys getting rough with them. There are panic buttons in all the back rooms for that exact reason. Christopher has never exactly been gentle, but I find I love that about him. He will probably be leaving bruises all over me, and I think I’ll enjoy seeing his fingerprints littering my skin in a few days.
“Ready, baby? There’s more to come,” he whispers with a devilish grin.
Christopher lines himself up and slides right into my still-throbbing pussy, before falling into a brutal rhythm that quickly makes me gasp and sigh. He plunges into me so quickly and with such force I have to scramble to hang onto the desk. All of my attention is suddenly and deliciously focused on what’s happening on my back and between my legs.
He grips my hips and presses his fingers in viciously, with intent, and the way he growls when I flinch makes me think he wants me to put up a bit of a fight. I buck back and am rewarded two-fold—his cock plunges deeper into me directly striking my G-spot and making me moan, and he swats me on the ass with an open palm.
“Be good,” he says.
“Sure thing, Mr Cole!” I reply.
He growls again and I feel the noise through my back and right into my chest. He fucks me harder, hitting at just the right angle to viciously attack my G-spot, bringing me closer and closer to the brink of a third orgasm, until my throat goes dry from being hung open in a silent scream. My forearms are shaking with the effort of holding myself up and I need to dip down the front half of my body just to give myself a break–which only serves to tip my hips a little more, exposing myself further, leaving me more open to his attack.
My back is slick with sweat. My hair is a mess. I’ve never been fucked this hard in my life.
When we started this little affair, I’d half-thought fucking Christopher wouldn’t be any different to using a toy. But this is on a whole other level. When I’m alone, there isn’t the warm, heavy presence of Christopher draped across my back, his sexy grunts as he fucks. Christopher cages me in and fucks me mercilessly, making me feel safe and overwhelmed and so fucking needy that I can’t think straight.
His bruising grip on my hips lifts me up to just the right height and another attack on my G-spot sends me blazing through another orgasm. I scream through it, reveling in it. He doesn’t stop fucking me until I’m lying twitching on the desk beneath him, until his cock inside me starts to border on painful, until my pleasured moans become tinged with pain. Then, and only then, does he begin to shudder and groan above me.
Christopher lets his head fall onto my shoulder. I’m pressed between his heavy, hot body and the hard mahogany desk. I realize there was a stack of papers on the desk at one point, but now they’re scattered on the ground. When did that happen? My elbow is resting on his keyboard and my bare breasts are squished beneath me, but I’m too hazy with pleasure to think of how ridiculous we probably look laid out together like this.
Finally, Christopher pulls away. His cock falls out of me and I wince at the sudden loss. I immediately miss his presence on my back and inside of me. I always feel like this after sex with Christopher. Like there’s something suddenly missing. Am I willing to risk this to keep my independence, to keep the job I worked so hard to get?
“Stay here,” Christopher says, and he sounds just as wrecked as I feel.
He leaves me there and I wait, laying sprawled out and spread-eagled against his desk. Ev
en if I wanted to pull myself into a more dignified position, my arms and legs feel like jelly and I’m breathing like I’ve just run a marathon. My pussy feels so well-fucked.
Christopher disappears into the executive washroom.
How long would I have to be working here before I get one of those?
When he reappears he’s holding a damp cloth, and it’s only then that I realize we weren’t using a condom. He looks at me with pursed lips before walking around to dab the cloth between my legs, gently cleaning me off.
“I’ll pay for the morning after treatment,” he says simply.
I nod, doing a quick calculation in my head and realizing that I’m probably too close to my period to get pregnant anyway. Still, better safe than sorry. How the hell had we gotten so carried away that we forgot to use a condom? I’ve never wanted someone so badly that I forgot to cover up.
Finally, Christopher finishes cleaning me up and I can finally bring myself to push away from the table. I pick up my blouse and throw it over my shoulders, feeling the pleasant ache running through my body from his ministrations. It isn’t until I’ve straightened my skirt and sorted out my pantyhose to cover the hole that I realize he’s staring at me and that he hasn’t spoken one word since we finished.
I turn slowly as the sound of silence stretches in the room. Christopher is standing next to the desk with his hand resting near the lamp. His pants are back on and his shirt tucked in, making it difficult to believe he hadn’t just spent however long it took fucking me into his desk. The only impression our fuck session made is a soft shine of high color to his cheeks and a ruffle to his hair. He’s staring me down, surrounded by the mess of his files and computer, waiting for me to tell him I want to leave Page & Sons and join him here.
And that’s when I realize…
He needs me to accept this. He can’t force this relationship. He can’t force me to be his. That’s something I need to decide for myself, and no matter how much he seems to think he has the power in this situation, he’s only powerful if I allow it. He only dominates if I submit. So the question is whether I want to.
