WickedTakeover

by Tina Donahue

  He turned at the sound and smiled.

  Her legs went rubbery. Everything she’d warned herself about seconds before evaporated like a bad dream. She could tell he was honestly glad to see her. Tomorrow or next week might be different. He might bolt then, but not now. She wasn’t going to let him.

  Lauren crossed the space, sank to her knees and undid the button on his jeans.

  Dante covered her hand with his and whispered, “What are you doing?”

  She pushed his hand away. Once she’d lowered his fly, Lauren tugged his jeans and stretchy boxers to his knees.

  Someone rushed down the hall. Possibly Jasmina, the steps were light. Van Gogh’s voice drifted from his workstation into here, his words too quiet to understand.

  Lauren rubbed her nose in the fragrant hair above Dante’s cock, thinking how nice it’d be if she could bottle his musk and smell it whenever she felt alone.

  He babbled something that sounded turned-on.

  Looking up, she whispered, “You better be quiet or they’ll hear you.”

  He sagged against the counter, his face up, Adam’s apple bobbing with his hard swallow. “What?”

  “Shhh.” She swirled her tongue over the tip of his cock.

  He grunted loudly.

  “Quiet,” she warned, “or I’ll stop.”

  He lowered his face, his eyes narrowed. “You’ll what?”

  “You heard me.” She ran her hand up and down his shaft, working it as her cunt would. Dante’s frown fell away. His head sagged back on his shoulders.

  That’s it, baby. Let me take care of you.

  Playfully, she lapped the root of his cock and tugged his pubic hair with her teeth. Soft laughter rumbled in his chest. Encouraged, she ran her tongue down his awesome length and flicked the back of his crown. He gasped quietly this time, as though he didn’t want to risk having her stop.

  Pleased at her power over him, Lauren lifted his rod and took his right ball into her mouth.

  Dante lost all of his air and pushed to his toes. “Holy fuck,” he rasped pretty damn loud.

  Thankfully, the music had drowned out the sounds of his passion. Drums beat away, trumpets blared. Someone in the hall laughed loudly. The phone rang. A plane rumbled overhead.

  A couple of times Dante’s knees buckled. Huffing, he fought to keep standing.

  Finished with loving his right ball, Lauren eased his left into her mouth. She tongued the short, dark hairs then licked the wrinkly skin, loving its faint salty taste.

  He gripped the lip of the counter but still squirmed, his grunts and groans surprisingly muffled. As though he remembered someone might hear and knock on the door, which would interrupt his pleasure.

  Determined to give him as much enjoyment as she could, Lauren drew her thumb over the small opening in his crown, wet with pre-cum. She ran the silky liquid to the back of his cock, the bumpy skin that was the most sensitive part of any man.

  Dante shot back to his toes. Lauren straightened, following him. After giving his ball one last lick, she released it. As he sank back down, gulping air, Lauren eased his shaft into her mouth. All the way to the back of her throat until her nose touched his hairy groin.

  He spoke in a combination of Spanish and English, none of it making sense. His body language was another matter entirely. Lauren knew she was killing him—in a good way. Purring in delight, she drew back then moved closer, working his hard rod with her mouth and tongue in a way her pussy never could.

  He made a strangled noise and cradled her head in his hands, keeping Lauren at the task for minutes, clearly fighting his climax.

  That wouldn’t do. Obsessed with driving him wild, Lauren sucked slow then fast. She added a little twist when she reached his crown then cupped his testicles in her hand and ran her fingers down the silky furrow between his cheeks. The moment she reached his anus, she stroked it.

  Several things happened at once. Dante went stiff as stone, his cock thickened in her mouth, his balls plumped even more, he stopped breathing then shuddered.

  His creamy cum spurted into Lauren’s mouth. Thick. Salty. Delicious. Lovingly, she drank it down and fondled his balls.

  Shuddering again, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand away from his sac.

  Lauren released his cock from her mouth and looked up. His face was down, his complexion darkened with lust, his hair dangling over his beard-shadowed cheeks.

  Poor baby.

  “You don’t like this?” she teased, cradling his balls in her other palm.

  He muttered an oath beneath his breath and pulled her hand away from his nuts. “Not now.” He paused to swallow and haul in another breath. “Later.”

  “Oh. Okay.” She pushed to her feet, pivoted and headed for the door.

  Dante must have grabbed the hem of her skirt, because he used it to reel her in. With one arm around her waist, he snaked his hand beneath the thin fabric and cupped her ass.

  Lauren looked over as he yawned.

  His fatigue vanished with his sudden frown. “What’s this?”

  “What’s what?”

  “This.” He worked his finger beneath her panty’s elastic, pulled then let it snap back to her leg. “What did I tell you about wearing underwear?”

  That she shouldn’t at work, and Lauren hadn’t at first. She’d been naked beneath her skirt when she’d talked to Jasmina in the backroom. Even though Jasmina had said Dante would be here, that he’d had a good excuse for not showing up early, Lauren had still felt silly. She’d brought her panties along, just in case, and had put them back on. Until this moment, she hadn’t even remembered them.

  “You’ve been bad,” he said. “You know what that means.”

  Lauren stared at him then the door. She’d locked it, sure, but there were people just outside.

  Dante seemed unconcerned as he pulled up his clothes, sank into one of the chairs and hauled her over his lap.

  Lauren squeaked then breathed hard as he threw up her skirt and pulled down her panties. God, he was really going to do this. Thank you, god. She gripped Dante’s leg and gritted her teeth as his palm cracked against her naked ass.

  Whoever had been walking past the door must have heard because that person’s footfalls slowed then stopped.

  The thought of anyone knowing about this made it even hotter. Lauren’s pussy grew heavy, needy for Dante’s stiffened rod. He paddled her for a moment more then stopped. Warmth quickly replaced the sting.

  She kissed his knee, thanking him. “I like being bad.”

  Dante chuckled and helped her up. On his feet, he zipped his fly, buttoned his waistband then held out his hand. Lauren kissed his palm. He fought a smile. “Give me your panties.”

  “I don’t think they’ll fit you.”

  He crowded her. If it was to intimidate, he was out of luck. Lauren liked him being close. Pressing her face into his tee, she inhaled deeply, savoring the cotton’s freshly laundered scent and his beneath it.

  Dante laughed softly then smacked her ass once more. “Take them off,” he ordered. “Give them to me now. No lip.”

  Lauren might have argued, testing to see what he’d do next, but the intercom buzzed. Probably Jasmina wanting to have a word with her, ask if she’d gotten the nerve to ask Dante out yet, or to offer a few tips on how she should do it. Before the young woman knocked on the door, Lauren removed her panties and dropped them in Dante’s hand. He shoved the scrap of black nylon and lace into his back pocket.

  She smoothed down her skirt and looked at the back of herself. “Am I decent?”

  “I hope not.” He took her in his arms, kissed her fiercely until they were both starved for air then finished by pecking her beauty mark. “Starting tomorrow, you don’t wear a bra any longer.”

  With her figure? Lauren giggled, muffling the sound against his chest. “Sorry, I can’t ditch the bra. No way. Never. I’ll tattoo my own eyeballs before I do that.”

  Dante pressed his mouth to her ear and breathed, “Before
long, you’ll enjoy being exposed in ways you’ve never imagined.”

  His promise registered on Lauren’s face throughout the day. Dante caught her watching him as she had before they’d become intimate. As though she wanted to say something badly but didn’t quite know how to begin.

  He could have helped her, of course, telling her part of what he had in mind for their carnal play. Keeping her in suspense was more fun. It built her arousal and his. Each time they happened to be alone in the same room, he went from relaxed to horny in two seconds flat. Lauren wasn’t immune. Her breath always caught and color tinted her cheeks.

  The first time it happened was in the backroom where he’d gone to catch a snack between customers. Lauren was already there, her mouth paused around the top of a Dove bar. She looked guilty as hell, like she’d fallen off a diet or had taken the treat without asking Jasmina.

  The young woman’s voice drifted from Van Gogh’s station where he worked on a client. Both he and Jasmina were busy, not likely to interrupt whatever happened back here. At least for a moment or two.

  Dante joined Lauren at the fridge, saying nothing, waiting to see what she’d do.

  Lauren blinked slowly as though it was a great effort or she was trying to clear her thoughts. From what Dante could see, it wasn’t doing her much good. A dribble of vanilla and chocolate rolled down the bar, skimming her thumb. He licked it away. She made a small, yearning sound then lost the rest of her breath at him fondling her boob.

  The threat of discovery seemed to excite her as much as it did him. He felt it in her body’s tension, the way even the slightest touch produced a response.

  The conversation in Van Gogh’s station stopped. Lauren’s attention crept to the doorway. Dante kept fondling her, flicking her nipple through the lacy barrier of her bra, running his other hand over the sweet swell of her belly to the delicate curls between her legs and her slit.

  He felt her damp heat through the flimsy fabric of her skirt.

  Her hand dropped. The Dove bar pointed at the floor rather than her mouth. Her pleading look seemed torn between asking him to fuck her on the spot or to wait until after hours so they could really enjoy themselves.

  Dante lifted her hand, took a bite of the ice cream and went back to work.

  Later in the day, he caught up with her at the front counter. The last Dante had seen of Jasmina, she was in the back, smartphone to her ear as she talked dirty to her boyfriend. Van Gogh was in his station, surfing the net for designs to please a particularly difficult client. At the moment, all of the customers were gone, none expected for a half-hour unless there was a walk-in.

  Anyone could stroll inside. The front door wasn’t locked. Lauren didn’t seem to notice or care. She focused solely on him.

  Good girl.

  Using his body, Dante directed her to the counter, her back against it, the front of the parlor behind her.

  Her throat quivered with her swallow. Dante dropped to one knee and bunched her skirt in front, shoving it beneath the waistband to expose her tummy, triangle of hair and luscious cleft. Lauren’s face went redder than Dante thought possible. She shifted her weight but didn’t protest. For that, he gave her a wink then pressed his face into her cunt.

  The world seemed to stop. Every part of his being registered her arousing fragrance…sweet, sultry, warm, inviting. He tongued the edge of her delicate curls. Her tummy quivered. His cock stiffened as though she’d run her mouth down it. Holding back a growl of delight, Dante cupped her ass, pulled her close and licked the seam of her pussy. God, she was wet, her nub as hard as his shaft.

  She jerked as he lapped her clit, her elbows hitting the counter. The small noise seemed huge in the relative quiet. An instrumental with an easy, romantic beat played, an occasional car passed, tourists and locals walked down the street, their muted laughter and conversations hardly intrusive but serving as a reminder that he and Lauren wouldn’t be alone for long.

  Dante held her more tightly, not about to allow escape. This moment was too tempting. He held her clit between his teeth and suckled it. Faint feline moans poured from Lauren. Her buttocks tensed in his hands. Increasing his grip, he used her shamelessly, slipping his fingers between her cheeks, stroking her anus as she’d done with him.

  Given his hold on her, Lauren wasn’t able to push to her toes as he had. He’d confined her completely.

  He slowed his licks then quickened them again, running his tongue in circles around her nub, not quite touching it. The noises she now made were frustrated and pissed. That didn’t compel him to give her what she wanted. The sound of a chair hitting a table did. Jasmina had no doubt finished her conversation and would soon be on the move.

  Lauren seemed oblivious. She’d worked her hands through his hair, using it as an anchor to keep his mouth on her. More moisture seeped from her pussy, nearly killing him with its wonderful flavor.

  Jasmina’s footfalls echoed in the hall.

  Shit. Dante licked Lauren as quickly as he could in the spot that mattered. She peaked immediately. He stood and slapped down her skirt.

  As Jasmina reached the front of the parlor, Lauren was still breathing hard. Dante pointed to the belt buckles in the display case as if they’d been discussing them. “I’ll pull up the stats on which of these are selling well and which aren’t so we can return those to the vendors.”

  Jasmina took one look at Lauren’s flushed face and hurried over. “Don’t cry,” she pleaded. “Everything will be all right.”

  “She’ll be fine,” Dante assured and spoke to Lauren. “Right?”

  Her hand was on her chest as she tried to calm her breathing. “Yeah. I’ll be okay.”

  Jasmina hugged her. “Things will get better, you’ll see.” She looked past Lauren’s shoulder to Dante. “You should take her out to eat tonight. You can talk business over dinner. Make it fun.”

  Her suggestion sounded like a command. “There’s a thought,” he said.

  Jasmina hugged Lauren once more, gave her a loaded look Dante didn’t understand and took her place at the counter.

  Lauren returned to her office, Dante to his workstation.

  That evening, with the front blinds closed, he took her repeatedly on the sofas, pausing only to snooze and recharge then chomp on the pizza he’d ordered before going at her again.

  They didn’t talk business.

  The following days, Dante watched her as she once watched him. Sometimes, he left his workstation on a pretense and hauled Lauren into his arms within earshot of the others. After kissing her longingly and touching her in places he shouldn’t—at least not in a public business—he released her and went back to his customers.

  Concentrating on work was fucking brutal. While Dante inked his clients, his mind kept drifting to the pleasures he had in store for Lauren. His X-rated thoughts kept building, forming a plan. One night, after hours, his ideas were nearly complete. He joined Lauren in the backroom. She unwrapped the stack of peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches she’d made for them so he wouldn’t spend any more money on her.

  If she’d fed him mud pies, Dante wouldn’t have cared. Having her close and so primed for his touch was what he wanted.

  He sat. “Take off your skirt.” The fabric was nearly as blue as her eyes with little glittery snowflakes on it. Very pretty. He liked her skin better.

  She looked confused. “Are you going to take off your jeans?”

  “Nope. I’m good.”

  Lauren twisted her mouth but pulled off her skirt. During their meal, she rubbed his toes with hers as she had at his uncle’s restaurant.

  Finished with his first sandwich, he swallowed several bites of another and said, “I think you’re ready.”

  Lauren’s chews slowed then stopped. “For what?”

  Dante ran his fingers past her springy curls to her cleft.

  She laughed huskily. “I’m always ready for that.”

  “You’d better be. But that’s not what I’m talking about.”

&
nbsp; Her smile hung on for a second then died.

  “Time for the next level,” he said.

  Lauren glanced past him. He sensed her mind was ticking off what he could possibly mean. Suddenly, her eyes rounded. “You want us to do a threesome? Foursome? Five—”

  “Hell no.”

  She sagged in her chair, plainly relieved. “Then what’s left?”

  “More than you can imagine.”

  Her expression grew excited then worried again. “You’re going to videotape us doing it?”

  “There’s a thought, but no. It wouldn’t be practical for what I have in mind.” He bit into his sandwich, chewed slowly and swallowed.

  Lauren fidgeted. She frowned when he took a long swig of water. Finally, she slapped his arm. “Tell me.”

  “What?”

  “What you’re talking about.”

  “I didn’t say anything.” He pretended to be confused. “I was swallowing.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  Dante did and loved teasing her. “We’ve toyed with getting caught here. Now it’s time to up the ante.”

  Lauren pushed back in her chair even as interest glittered in her eyes. “Surely you don’t expect us to do it outside in my car.”

  Dante laughed. “Hell no.” He sobered. “It’s too small.”

  “Jasmina’s car? Van Gogh’s?”

  “They walk here like I do.”

  “I’m not doing it on a bus. No freaking way.”

  “Who said we’d be in a vehicle? That’s so confining.”

  Her curiosity ratcheted up several more notches. “Where will we be?”

  “You’ll see,” he said and left it at that.

  Not once during the following days did Dante answer her questions nor did he bring the subject up again. He wanted Lauren’s anticipation and desire to be out of control.

  Finally, he knew when it was.

  Chapter Seven