by Joya Ryan
Despite my best efforts, I started to fidget. No one had ever looked at me down there before. This was the most exposed, most intimate, I’d ever been with anyone. There was nothing quick or clinical about this. It was slow, hard, raw, and consuming. But it was new. And the nerves got the better of me.
“Shhh, Lana. Look at me.”
I swallowed hard, and realized my eyes were squeezed shut.
“Look at me,” he said again.
With a deep breath, I opened my eyes and looked down at him. My God, he was beautiful. Just the brief moment of darkness behind shut eyelids was enough to make me miss his face already.
“Good. Now keep your eyes on me. I’m not going to touch you, I’m going to look.”
My brows shot up, but I kept my gaze on him. I watched his stare go from my face, to between my legs. Exhales were heavy and growing in pace. But he just looked. It was then I realized his typically stony expression was full of lust.
He look up at my face once more. “You’re beautiful.”
I took a deep breath and nodded. We’d passed a milestone. I didn’t think I even got a full sentence out, yet he picked up on just how inexperienced I was, and went slow. I wanted to hug him. To thank him. To kiss him for days and days.
“Now, I’ve seen you, I’m telling you to never be embarrassed of showing me again.”
Though his words were sharp, his tone was soft.
“O-okay.”
“Good, now…” He reached out, took one of my hands and placed it on top of his head. “We’re going to go one step further.” He licked up my thigh. “I’m in control, and you get to hold on.” Those dark eyes looked up at me. “Yet, I’m the one on my knees. Do you feel weak right now? Feel like I have so much power you can’t escape?”
“No, I don’t feel weak,” I whispered. And I didn’t. Not in the least. I was ready to do, to give, whatever he wanted. This was all a carefully executed plan of dominance and submission. One thing was clear: Jack was a pro. It was a conflicting notion of power and exchange. He said the only thing that made sense: “Trust me.”
I nodded, my hand closing and fisting his hair as he pushed my dress up higher until it bunched at my hips, leaving me in nothing but my disarranged panties.
“You know why I love lace?” he rasped, as his lips hovered just over my center.
“W-why?”
With a flick of his wrist, he ripped the thin material and removed the tatters in one fast swoop.
“That’s why.”
A tremor raced over me, and I looked down to find him staring again.
“So pretty,” he said, running his finger along my slit. “Innocent.”
I swallowed hard, because while I wasn’t technically a virgin, my experiences were minimal, and not what was deemed an act of sex or love making. This time would be different. It already was. And it didn’t matter how far we went, Jack took me past any bad feelings or horrid memories and kept my focus on him.
I liked that he saw an innocence in me. It allowed me to pretend for a moment I wasn’t completely ruined. Because he seemed to see strength in me. Maybe I could be both. Maybe he could help me feel both.
Keeping my fist fastened in his hair, he looked up at me. “Has a man ever made you come?”
“No.”
His gaze fell back to the juncture between my parted thighs and the look on his face made me gulp: determination. He slid both hands up my legs, around my hips and clutched my ass, bring me dangerously close to the edge of his desk.
I placed one hand on the surface to steady myself.
“You can either hold on to me, yourself, or lay back. Do you understand?”
I looked at my hands. One on his head, the other on his desk. I moved it quickly and placed it with the other on top of his head. The only thing keeping me from falling was his grip on me.
Seeming to read my mind, he smirked. “Don’t worry about falling. If you do, I’m right here. I’ll happily catch you.” His voice was so raspy, the sound alone melted me another degree.
His fingers dug into my cheeks and he yanked me into his mouth.
“Oh, God!” My whole body tensed, and like he promised, he caught me.
He tugged me further off the edge of the desk and his tongue speared my opening. His whole mouth covered me, the heat of his breath fanning over my entire core. His upper lip brushed my clit, while he impaled me with his tongue, deep and hard.
“Jack, I…I can’t hold on…”
The feel of his wicked mouth working me over, delving, licking, eating…it was too much. I released the hold I had on his head and laid back. My shoulders met his desk, while the sound of crinkling papers and random items fell to the floor. I hardly noticed, and cared even less.
Nothing had ever felt so wildly consuming. So intimate. His hands stayed on my ass, lifting me like he would a cup of water ready to drink it down. And that’s exactly what he was doing.
My back arched, my breasts straining against the top of my dress, felt almost pained from lack of touch. My nipples were whining for attention. A single brush of fingers or a quick pluck…anything to ease the ache. My entire body wanted his mouth and hands on it.
Lifting my hand, I went to grab my breast, then stopped. That would be inappropriate. My mind was racing, my body heating. Jack just worked faster, diving in and out of me, then flicking my clit so hard and perfectly that my lungs hurt from trying to breathe, and my thighs trembled.
I was close. So unbearably close that I could hardly take it. My breasts had never ached so badly, never wanted to be touched so desperately. I went to touch them again, then stopped. What was wrong with me!
Jack growled. Keeping his grip on my ass, he rose and leaned over me. Using his teeth, he tugged down the top of my dress enough to expose one nipple, which he quickly sucked hard, making me scream in pleasure. That was what I’d needed, but I also needed the magic he was preforming between my legs. I wanted all of it. All of him.
“Do what feels right,” he growled, releasing my nipple and settling back between my legs. When his tongue flicked my clit, I groaned and gave in to his command.
I cupped my breasts in my hands, pinching my nipples, realizing I liked the sting it left behind. One was wet from Jack’s mouth, and it only intensified that sensation.
“Good, baby,” he rasped and bit my inner thigh. “Now, let go. Let this pretty pussy of yours come.”
Let go…
Something I’d never done. Always too scared, too cold, too in my head, instead of in the moment. That wasn’t the case this time. All I felt was the moment and Jack’s mouth on me.
He ran his tongue along my slit, then delved deep, and that was all it took. Clutching my breasts, a throaty moan ripped from my chest as I came hard. Little spasms, like hummingbird’s wings flapping beneath my skin, made me shake and convulse. Jack just kept going. Licking and sucking at me, until every one of my muscles were tense and reaching for the stars from this one amazing climax.
My dress was left in disarray around me as Jack rose to stand, pushing me back on the desk just enough so that I could lay there a moment without needing his support. All I could do was stay still and catch my breath.
Jack took a few steps back, but kept that dark gaze on me.
He licked his bottom lip, and a devilish grin laced his handsome face. He just stared with a look of lusty pride on his face. When I sat up, he watched every move. I didn’t know what to say, or what happened next, so I fixed my dress quickly to cover me. I saw my panties in tatters on the floor, and finally looked at Jack.
His eyes were on fire, his body poised to pounce and devour.
A predator.
He was breathing heavy too.
“Look.” I pointed at his torso and pants. There were a few damp spots of cream looking—“Oh, no…oh God…” Mortification rose so quickly when I realized those stains were from me. When he’d thrust against me. When he rose up my body to suck at my breast. I was on him, ruining his expensive suit.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m going.” I fumbled off the desk, to my feet and prepared to run. Jack caught my arm.
“What did I say about being embarrassed?”
“This is different. I ruined your clothes with my…” I couldn’t even say the word. I didn’t know how to deal with this. I had dirtied him. Did that make what we did dirty?
“Stop,” he said harshly.
Cupping my face in his hands, he kissed me. I could taste myself on his lips, something he didn’t seem to mind.
“Stop thinking,” he said against my mouth. “There’s nothing to be sorry about. Feeling you come, tasting it, is the highlight of my fucking year. Do not shame yourself or make this moment to be anything other than what it was.”
“What was this moment?” I asked breathlessly.
“Fucking perfect.” He kissed me hard once more, then released me. Glancing at the clock, he said, “Looks like your lunch break is almost up. Wouldn’t want to show up late and get the boss upset.”
He was joking. I could barely tell, because Jack didn’t joke really. But everything about this situation was so far from what I’d expected or imagined. I didn’t know what to say or do. So I simply nodded and turned towards the door.
“Um, what about you?” I motioned at his suit, and God help me, I about offered to pay for dry cleaning, but that somehow sounded bad in my mind, so it’d be even worse out loud.
“Simple fix,” he said, leaning over his now messy desk to grab a remote control and pressed a button on it. One of the doors opened automatically. It was a closet with perfectly pressed suits hanging in it.
He put the remote down and simply stared at me.
“Okay then,” I whispered, and opened the office door.
“Lana,” he called. I looked over my shoulder to see him run his thumb along his lower lip, then taste it. “Have a good afternoon.”
I swallowed hard. “Y-you too.”
With that, I shut the door behind me and walked my shaking legs down the stairs.
Chapter Seven
“At least it’s a different table,” I said, looking around the bar I’d been stood up at over two weeks ago. It was where my co-workers went for happy hour during the week, and this time, I was invited.
After yesterday in Jack’s office, I could really use a drink. Harper had come home after I was asleep, and I left early this morning. I was dying to talk to her, but she seemed to be working late hours, and I didn’t want to wake her.
So, I had spent that last twenty-eight hours, yes, I was counting, since my last encounter with Jack, trapped in my own mind, and wondering what to do next.
“Lana, want to sit by me?” Edith asked, as a few of my co-workers shoved into a booth.
Edith was nice and, by all accounts, normal. She was one year older than me and had been working for Reign Resorts for a year. She was friendly, and when she wasn’t talking about her ambitions to move up and work in the actual resort, as opposed to behind the scenes, she was chatting about how hot Jack Powell was, or the most recent scandal she’d read about in the tabloids.
I sat on the end next to Edith. I was the only “new hire,” and everyone was chatting and seemed to know each other fairly well.
“Thanks for inviting me,” I said to Edith.
“Of course.” She was the one person who had been nice and gone out of her way to get to know me. “So, you going to dish about the other day when you ran out after Mr. Powell left?”
Edith was also a bit of a gossip. I didn’t want anyone to know about my relationship—if I could even call it that—with Jack. Especially co-workers. It would look bad if I was seeing the owner of the resorts, in any capacity.
“I just needed some fresh air,” I said, and looked at the happy hour menu. It was laminated and sticky, and the first thing I read sounded perfect. Especially if it got Edith’s questioning glare off of me.
“Why don’t I get the first round? Margaritas sound good?” I announced, and everyone seemed happy with that. Couldn’t really go wrong with four dollar margaritas.
“I like you already,” said Walter, the mid-forties man who worked two rows down. “I’ll get the next round.”
Nodding, I walked to the bar, the chattering of the table getting fainter the further away I got. My anxiety was a bit on the high side, with trying an outing with new “friends.” It was better than remaining a social outcast, though. Besides, broadening my horizons with people was part of me attempting to gain control of my life.
When I reached the bar, the tall model wasn’t working, thank goodness, and while the place was relatively bustling with people, it wasn’t overcrowded like a weekend night. It was still early, after all. Getting off work at four was nice. But all I kept thinking about was the other day in Jack’s office.
“Hi,” I said to the bartender, an average man with a nice smile, who had to be in his late twenties.
“Hi, there.” His smile turned a little brighter as he glanced at my chest, then back to my face. “What can I get you?”
“Four margaritas, please. Blended.”
He winked. “Coming right up.”
I pulled a twenty out of my purse, and rested my forearms on the counter while he went to work making the drinks at the other end of the bar.
I glanced around. The place looked different in the daylight. Rustic, yet modern. Eclectic décor hung on the walls like old framed posters and a signed Colorado Rockies jersey.
“You really have no idea, do you?”
“Jesus!” I gasped and saw Jack standing next to me. With his hands in the pockets of his expensive navy suit, he leaned his side against the bar and looked at me. That dark gaze heating my blood like a Bunsen burner.
“There I go, scaring you again.”
“You don’t scare me,” I said. “You surprise me.”
I looked back at the table where everyone was sitting. They were chatting and didn’t seem to be paying attention to me or Jack. Likely didn’t even know he’d come in.
“And, no,” I answered his earlier question. “I didn’t have any idea that you were standing right there.”
I chanced a quick glance at him, because anything too long and I’d get caught up. He sat on a bar stool and faced me. The way he moved was so fluid and commanding, he was like some cosmic force.
“You’re like Bruce Wayne or something. Lurking discreetly,” I said.
“That’s not what I’m talking about. Though the Bruce Wayne reference is mildly flattering.” His voice was low, deep, and just loud enough for me to hear but still keep our conversation private. Like all his attention and every syllable was meant for my ears alone, and the thought made me both hot and happy.
Keeping Jack’s focus was a prize to be won. It was an understanding I’d realized from the moment I met him. It was also something I craved. Something I’d do a lot to keep.
“Then, what are you talking about?”
He glanced at the bartender. “All these men in here have their eyes on you.”
“That’s not true.” I said instantly, looking around. People were having conversations, holding eye contact with the ones they came with. Certainly not on me.
“You don’t have to stare to notice someone. It’s a quick glance, a small linger of the eyes,” he said this while those dark pools of obsidian did a little lingering of their own, down the front of me, then back to my face in a lazy sweep.
“Why would they look at me?” I turned a little to face him more fully.
“Because you radiate a kind of need that calls to a man. The kind that makes them wonder how they can be the one to give you want, which you are silently begging for.”
“They don’t look at me the way you do,” I said softly.
He grinned. I loved it when he did that. “They better not. Because I was not only looking, but recalling.” His gaze trailed lower, to my breasts, then thighs. Thighs that were swaying a little and brushing against the inside of his. It was then I realized I was the one gravita
ting toward him and standing between his bent knees.
“I know what’s beneath that dress. They don’t.” He leaned just a fraction closer. “I know what you taste like. The sexy sounds you make when I lick your sweet pussy. The look of you well satisfied and sprawled out on my desk.”
His hand lifted to adjust his tie, but as he went, he skimmed the back of his knuckles against my stomach, between the valley of my breasts and to my neck before leaving my skin. “You ruined that desk, you know? I can’t get a thing done. Every time I look at it, all I see is you.”
I swallowed hard. “First, I ruin your suit, then your desk. Perhaps I should start taking accounting on that so you don’t lose any profit.”
“Oh, I profit greatly.”
“Is that part of the power you were talking about?”
“It’s part of who I am.”
“So, being with me gives you the power and control that you need?”
“Yes.”
I wanted more explanation and he knew it. But he wasn’t giving it up. Like he just said, it was part of who he was. Digging deeper into the why would be tough. For all of Jack’s honesty, he was careful with a lot of himself. It was because of that prized control that he didn’t give too much of himself away. Just enough to drive me crazy and want more.
But there was one thing I felt the need to ask. “Why me?”
He straightened and looked down at me. “Because, like I said before, you give off a need of your own. And I want to be the man you give it to you.”
“So, I’m a challenge?”
“Yes.”
That stung. So much that I had to run my hand over my cheek, because it felt so heated I wasn’t sure if I was blushing from confusion or if his words had found a way to physically slap me.
I faced the bar.
“You’re upset,” he stated.
“No kidding!” I snapped, keeping him in my peripheral. “I’m not some conquest. Not some little toy you can play with, mold, save, whatever.”
Whatever his end goal was, I wasn’t it. Because it sounded like he was interested merely in the chase.
“You’re confusing challenge and conquest. Do I not challenge you? Don’t you see me as something a little forbidden? Weren’t you going to tell me to fuck off yesterday when you entered my office? You had a whole speech prepared on the topic.”
