by Onne Andrews
The unnatural stillness of his expression should have been my clue.
“Maybe it’s not me we’re discussing,” he said quietly.
“Yes, it is,” I shot back.
He leaned over me, no doubt to be intimidating, but my heart responded with a whole different emotion. “Maybe you want to be dominated. Maybe you’re the one who loves to be fucked from behind. Maybe you haven’t had a man who’ll cater to your sexual whims.”
He whipped me around and pressed me down against his immaculate desk. I had to spread my legs to keep from falling. One huge hand encircled my wrists. With his other hand, he shoved up my skirt.
“Well, well, well.” He traced the lines of my garter. His touch raised gooseflesh. “Did Emmett send you here to seduce me into taking him back if all your pretty words didn’t convince me?”
“No.” I struggled against his hold.
My token efforts made Ian laugh. Maybe we both knew I wasn’t putting my heart into breaking free. He ran his fingers down the crevice of my ass, and my body shuddered. “Why are you really here?”
I should have said something except I couldn’t think straight. My panting was the only sound for a moment until I heard the distinctive sound of a zipper. His zipper.
His other hand slid between my thighs and lightly stroked my curls. “Tell me to stop, Lacy.”
My throat itched; it was so dry. A total contrast to my pussy. The more he played with me the wetter I became. Why didn’t I complain? Protest? Something? Anything?
Because I didn’t want to. I’d pushed him because I wanted this reaction from him. I wanted him to overpower me, take me, use me.
Subconsciously, did we both know the real reason we’d never be able to work together? Every minor disagreement would turn into foreplay, and we wouldn’t get anything accomplished at the company.
Right now, none of that mattered. The only thing that did was Ian filling me with his cock. I could feel the pad of his fingers circle the edge of my passage, spreading my juices all over my pussy.
“Tell me no, Lacy.” His voice was husky in my ear.
The proper thing would be to say no. This was supposed to be a business meeting. Refusing is what I should do. What I should have done last night in Atlanta. What Good Girl Lacy had always done.
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Yes, what?” The faintest hint of surprise flavored the lust in his tone.
“Yes, please fuck me, sir.”
His cock replaced his fingers, nudging my pussy, teasing me with its promise of satisfaction. “Last chance, Lacy. Tell me no.” His harshness warned me. If I said yes now, and denied him later, this thing between us was finished.
I didn’t want it to be over. I wanted him. I needed him in ways I never knew were possible. “Please fuck me, sir,” I repeated.
His cock penetrated me. Hard. Full. My pussy walls contracted around the length of him.
Rational thought must have invaded his mind. He muttered a curse before he said, “Protection.”
I panicked as he started to withdraw. “No.” This protest was loud and obvious. “Don’t stop fucking me.” A little part of me said, Are you insane? The rest of me needed him, as if I walked into a four-star restaurant while starving, devouring anything and everything set before me.
“Lacy…” The concern and warning were there, but I didn’t care.
“Please, don’t stop.” My plea ended in a half-gasp, half-sob.
He did the same slow, exquisite thrust and retreat he had in the hotel bed. Teasing. Driving me insane. Proving he controlled my body’s responses. In this one thing, I was willing to relinquish all power to him because I had already experienced the explosive results.
“You can’t scream when you come this time.” He sounded so pleased, confident in my capitulation. “Everyone in the office will hear.”
“It’s Friday. How many people are still here?”
“My partner for one.” His laughter sounded strained as he continued his slow thrusts.
“Then you’ll have to stop me.” A sensual thrill tickled my nerves.
“Is that a dare, Ms. Sullivan?”
“What if it is?” I couldn’t help smiling at my wicked behavior. “What are you going to do? Punish me?”
“You could use a good spanking.”
The thought of him bending me over his knee drove a sharp wave through my pussy. The idea must have appealed to him as well. The tempo of his thrusts increased. The delightful tension built in my flesh. No more words were needed. The slap of his balls against me, his quiet growls of pleasure said everything.
Once again, he paused. I was so far gone that all I could do was whimper my dismay. Ian covered my mouth with his hand. He tasted of salt and desire. It was like the moment between us was frozen. All it would take was a flick of a finger to shatter it.
He leaned closer. The woody scent of his aftershave mixed with the floral of my body lotion. He whispered in my ear, “What would you do if I whipped that pretty ass of yours?”
His cocked rammed into me one last time, and we both exploded.
I wasn’t sure if his palm muffled my scream of ecstasy. At least, no one came to check on us. The mixture of his come and my juices slicked my inner thighs as we both fought to catch our breath. I didn’t want to move from this spot.
Finally, he slipped free from me, and he helped me up. Dark humor flashed in his eyes and quirked his mouth. “This is exactly what I mean.”
“Then can we compromise?” I smoothed my skirt down. “Stay as Emmett’s attorney until everything gets turned over to me. I can hire my own attorney to negotiate my contract. Then if you want to leave as legal counsel, I won’t stop you. I’ll make Emmett understand that if he’s serious about retiring, he needs to let go of the company reins. But I want you to consider remaining on Radcliffe’s board of directors.”
He paused in zipping his trousers. “I’ll think about it, but can we keep at arm’s length for the few months it will take?
“I can. The question is, can you?”
He rolled his eyes. “I finally find someone…” He blew out a deep breath and finished fastening his pants and belt. “What if this break—”
I stepped closer and laid my index finger across his lips. “We’ll survive.”
His smile tickled my skin. “I don’t know if I can.”
“I didn’t say our break started yet. I’m not officially CEO until you withdraw your resignation.” I grinned. “I suggest we don’t tell Emmett until in the morning.”
“You’ve got a very devious mind, Ms. Sullivan.” Ian wrapped his arms around me. “I told Emmett you’d do just fine as Radcliffe’s new CEO.”
Chapter Six
Despite our best intentions, we broke our agreement two months later.
A major argument between Ian and me erupted during a board meeting. He thought we should enter the Caribbean and Central American markets first. I thought we should target Europe.
After the discussion was tabled and most of the board left the room, Emmett looked at both of us and shook his head. “Okay, I give. Ian, if you still want to resign as corporate counsel, I won’t argue. You two need to fuck before you kill each other.” Emmet stalked to the door, but he paused and glared at us. “And I’d like to point out that you’re both ignoring the potential in Asia, which is growing faster than either of your proposals.” He slammed the door behind him.
I whirled to face Ian. “You asshole! You started that fight on purpose!”
“Damn straight, I did.” He rounded the table and loomed over me.
“We had a deal,” I ground out.
“Then you should have gotten it in writing, Ms. Sullivan.” He grabbed my waist, lifted me and set me on the conference room table. “I can’t wait anymore.” He pressed me flat against the laminate surface. “Not the way you kept crossing your legs during the meeting.”
Since I’d moved to Tampa, I’d started wearing cotton pants or skirts. I’d given up o
n hose completely. The heat and humidity were too much to dress in anything heavier. Deep down, I knew I’d picked out the ass-hugging red skirt on purpose. The sexual hiatus was getting to me as well.
Though I wasn’t about to admit it to Ian.
“You can’t abandon Emmett.”
Ian shoved up the material of my skirt. An evil grin appeared on his face. “That’s what I thought.” Except his wasn’t talking about his responsibilities to his client. He slid his index finger under the waistband of the red lace thong I wore. With a jerk of his hand, the elastic and lace ripped. He yanked the shreds of my thong from my body and shoved the remains in the pocket of his trousers.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
He ignored my harsh whisper and lifted my knees over his shoulders. His head dipped.
“I’m serious, Ian. You can’t—” I slapped my hands over my mouth to stifle my shriek. Even though I’d been expecting it, the sensation of his tongue caressing my open slit nearly shot me into orbit.
“Ian…” My reprimand turned into a moan. Oh, god, the man had a way with his mouth. My body shuddered as he lightly sucked my clit. Little ribbons of pleasure curled through me.
“Hmmm…”
I cried out at the vibration against delicate flesh. My hips bucked at the intense sensation. His fingertips dug into my skin and muscle, attempting to keep me still as he continued his erotic torture.
Common sense had prevented me from ever thinking about having sex in an office. But when it came to Ian Hollister, I had no shame. The silver in his hair reflected the setting sun as he continued running his tongue over my slit, seeking out and massaging every crevice.
“Ian, please…” Please what? I wanted him to stop. Didn’t I? The CEO shouldn’t have her pussy eaten on the conference room table by a board member.
My body had other ideas though. The threads of my impending orgasm knotted inside me. I couldn’t stop what was about to happen if I wanted to. I shoved my right knuckle into my mouth and prayed it would be sufficient to muffle me.
With his delicate bite on my clit, the knot tore open. Waves of carnal bliss shook me. My fist dampened my scream, but didn’t entirely deaden it. Please don’t let anybody be hanging outside the conference room door.
Soft strokes of Ian’s tongue soothed my pussy while I gasped for air. With a final kiss on my clit, he peered over my bush, a grin reminiscent of the Cheshire Cat on his face.
I glared at him. Angry at him for knowing how to manipulate my body. Angry at myself for not wanting to stop him. “You’re a fucking bastard.”
“No, I’m a pussy-licking bastard. We haven’t got to the fucking part yet.” He carefully lifted my legs from his shoulders and straightened. He stared at my naked pussy for a moment before he gave an exaggerated sigh.
Expectation ran thick in my mouth, my blood, my juices, but he didn’t unzip his trousers. Instead, he shoved his paperwork in his case, turned and strode toward the door. What exactly was he trying to prove?
I sat up and slid off the table. “Where the hell do you think you’re going? I’m not finished with you yet!” I struggled to yank my skirt back into place.
He looked over his shoulder. His eyes crinkled with his sly smile. “You came. I didn’t. Seems to me like you got the better end of the deal.”
“We haven’t finished discussing the market expansion.” It was the first excuse I could come up with in my endorphin-soaked brain.
“Then we’ll discuss it on the way home.” He opened the conference room door and stalked out.
“‘Home’?” I grabbed my purse and folders before I chased after him. The lights were out in the offices, meaning everyone had left except us.
Nonchalant, he waited at the bank of elevators.
“What do you mean ‘home’?” I demanded.
His wicked grin was gone. An ultra-serious expression had replaced it. “You haven’t picked out a place for us to live yet, so I did.”
All I could was stare at him. Granted, I was still in an extended stay hotel. There was simply to much too deal with at Radcliffe Software to worry about looking for a permanent residence. But he couldn’t possibly be serious about me living with him.
He dug into his pants pocket and pulled out a jangling metal ring. “Here’s your keys.”
I eyed the bright steel he held out. “My keys to what?”
“Our new condo.” He shrugged. “It’s only a little three-bedroom with a study you can use for work. I’ve been considering some place closer to my office now that the kids are in college. This unit is halfway between Radcliffe and the law firm.”
“Is this seriously how you are asking me to move in with you?”
The wicked glint was back in his pale eyes. “You run things on company time. I run things on personal time.”
“Don’t you think this is just a little too fast?” A little shiver ran up my spine. Not fear. Well, not true fear anyway. More like, would I ever be able to walk again concern because we would be screwing constantly.
His mouth pursed as if he were suppressing a smile. “I seem to recall fucking your brains out on our first date.”
“That wasn’t a date,” I shot back. “That was weather-related travel delays.” I took the keys that dangled from his index finger and dropped them in my purse’s side pocket.
The elevator doors slid open. We stepped inside, the doors closed, but Ian leaned over and jabbed the emergency stop button. He set his case on the floor. “So what you’re saying is you want to be asked?”
He pressed me against the elevator wall, the firm length of his erection stating what we both really wanted. And there wasn’t a security camera in this elevator.
“Yes.” I wasn’t backing down on this issue, no matter how he tried to tempt me.
“Lacy,” he whispered as his hands slipped under the hem of my skirt and he hiked it to my waist once again. “Would you please move in with me?”
I dropped my purse and files, then reached for his fly. My passage already tingled at the thought of him inside me. “Yes.”
He breathed what could have been a sigh of relief before he palmed my ass and lifted me. My arms and legs automatically wrapped around him. He impaled my pussy with his cock and fucked me senseless to seal our deal.
Additional Books by Onné Andrews
Secret Series
Tied By Lust
Bound By Desire
Taken By Passion
Enslaved By Love
Naughty Neighbors Series
Three’s Company
Four of a Kind
The Cherry on Top (Coming Soon)
Dirty Dozen: Twelve Unrelated Tales to Stir the Libido
Eat Me
To Punish and Service
Take Me
Horny Holidays Series
Santa’s Gift
Cupid’s Arrow (Coming Soon)
Educating Lisa
The Professor’s Wife (Coming soon)
For more information, please visit www.onneandrews.blogspot.com
To be notified of my upcoming releases and to receive special offers like coupon codes and free books, sign up for my mailing list! (Your information will not be sold, leased or otherwise given to a third party.)
If you enjoyed this story, turn the page for a sneak peek of my new BDSM series, The Professor’s Wife (Educating Lisa #1)!
Chapter One
I watched Professor Turner scribble the dates on the chalkboard. Except I wasn’t so interested in the length of the reigns of Egypt’s Eighteenth Dynasty pharaohs as I was the play of his shoulders underneath his tweed jacket. He stuck to the prim and proper attire of any college professor during the day, but one night, I’d caught a glimpse of him in the university’s Olympic-sized pool.
Let’s just say he was in excellent shape for a forty-something American male. Better shape than my ex who played football. Professor Turner’s Speedos gave an excellent testimonial as to his endowments. From then on, I found a r
eason to be at the indoor pool in the evenings and peek.
When I returned to my dorm after my private peep show, he starred in my fantasies. Once my roommate left for her boyfriend’s apartment, I’d shower, change into something decadent and silky, and pretend my vibrator was him fucking me.
But I wasn’t stupid. An affair with a married professor?
The board of directors has fired the president of the university and expelled the two girls he’d been caught with last year. I wasn’t about to jeopardize my full-ride scholarship.
No, sirree. You couldn’t pay me enough to sleep with him. No matter how fantastic that one-time would be. That huge cock ramming into my soft, wet—
“Ms. Kimble?”
I blinked. “Excuse me?”
Professor Turner frowned. “Sorry to wake you, Ms. Kimble.”
Around me, students snickered. I could feel my face lighting up like a Christmas tree. “I-I—”
“Amenhotep IV? What did he change his name to?”
“Uh—” More snickers as any thought about the class flew out of my head.
The professor schooled his expression, but his disgust shown in his blue, blue eyes. “We’ll talk about Akhenaten and the Amarna period on Monday. Class dismissed.” His gaze pinned me to my seat. “Except you, Ms. Kimble.”
Oh, crap.
Fellow students filtered out of the classroom, still tittering over my embarrassment. My friend Jessica looked back at me. I shook my head and mouthed, Meet you at the cafeteria.
Professor Turner leaned against the front of his desk and folded his arms. I squirmed under his intense stare.
“Ms. Kimble, are you having some personal problems?”
“No, sir,” I whispered. I focused on the plastic surface of my own desk.
