by J. D. Chase
‘Oh, thank fuck! I thought I’d hurt you. And overcome? Nah, you’ll come much more next time we fuck,’ he joked. ‘And there will be a next time, you do know that, don’t you?’ His eyes burned into hers.
She desperately hoped so. ‘If you’re lucky,’ she teased.
‘Hmm, perhaps I’ll just have to try harder, make you come harder . . . perhaps I should fuck you again tonight.’
She scrambled away from him, crying out, ‘No . . . no more, not yet!’
He laughed a deep, throaty laugh. ‘Okay then, not yet, but with you lying naked in my bed, I can’t make any promises that I’ll last until the morning. Now come back here.’
She pursed her lips, deep in thought. ‘I should be getting back. If I leave it too late, I mightn’t get a cab.’
He sat up and regarded her with a look that left her in no doubt as to his surprise and objection to her leaving now. ‘You’re going nowhere, Red. I want to wake in the night and smell your intoxicating scent, touch your silky soft skin and fall back to sleep, knowing what a lucky man I am.’
‘But I can’t. I have to go home to get ready for work in the morning. I can’t turn up wearing the same clothes as today, especially since we left together . . . oh God, we’d be turning up together as well. Can’t you see how that would look?’
Comprehension dawned on Xander because he actually winced. ‘It would look exactly as it is. Good point. So we’ll get up early and I’ll take you back to yours and wait for you to get ready or I’ll drop you home and leave you to make your own way in. I’ll shower here – it only takes me five minutes to get ready, unlike you women. It’ll be fine, now come back here and kiss me.’
They kissed and caressed for some time before they wished each other goodnight and Isla lay with her head on his chest, her mind whirling with the complexities of the man she lay with. He was rude, arrogant, inappropriate, coarse, cocky and an absolute animal in bed. Yet he could be charming, funny, caring, considerate and absolutely amazing in bed. He was like no man she’d ever come across before but one thing was true: he was addictive. Infuriating though the realisation was, she was already craving more.
Chapter Five
Isla awoke the next morning to find Xander snuggled up behind her, his arms around her holding her tight, even as he slept, although it took her a few moments to remember where she was and who she was with. Violent flashbacks of the night before flitted through her mind, making her both anxious and horny. What if he regrets it? What if he discards me now he’s got what he wanted? Can I touch him? Perhaps if I gently push back my arse into his cock . . .
She did just that and shrieked when his deep voice muttered, ‘You cock-hungry vixen, not yet fully awake and already craving my cock.’
‘I am not,’ she refuted. ‘I was simply stretching.’
‘I’ll do the stretching around here. I’ll stretch that greedy pussy to within a millimetre of its breaking point if you push that gorgeous big arse against my cock again.’
She froze. Did he just call my arse big? ‘Hey! Do you think my arse is big?’
‘Big, soft, beautiful, desirable, fuckable . . . need I go on?’
Isla swallowed and lay there wide-eyed as she absorbed his words and his obvious intentions.
‘What time is it?’ she asked, pushing those thoughts from her mind.
‘Time I was inside you,’ he growled, pulling her on top of him.
‘Xander! Remember you’ve got to take me home before work. What time is it? It looks late, judging from the light around the curtains.’
‘It’s a little after eight and a little before I fuck you into the middle of next month!’
‘It’s after eight! Fuck Xander! Don’t you know how long it takes me to get showered and ready for work, never mind getting into the office on the tube?’
He sighed. ‘Red, I’m the boss and if you’re late, I’m hardly going to complain if it’s my fault. Now stop your wittering and get on my cock.’
‘But everyone will know I’m late. I don’t do late!’ she cried, but his fingers had found her clit and were beginning to work on changing her mind.
‘You really don’t get it, do you?’ he muttered. ‘All right, just this once I’ll compromise . . . but I’m fucking you before the day’s out. Now bring that juicy pussy and sit it on my face . . . I can’t do anything until I’ve eaten in a morning.’ He tugged at her legs but she just sat looking at him.
‘I can’t do that,’ she whispered. ‘I just can’t.’ She couldn’t lower herself, spread wide open on to his waiting face. That just seemed wrong.
‘I thought we’d been over this . . . you think you can’t. You think it’s too rude . . . too filthy . . . well so fucking what if it is? So what if it feels dirty? It will feel amazing and you’ll come. You’ll drip your beautiful juices all over my face and I’ll struggle to breathe as my tongue has you writhing in ecstasy. Now bring that greedy cunt here for me to worship if you won’t let me fuck it or you’ll be even later for work.’
Well, if you put in like that . . .
She sat up on his stomach, facing him, and shuffled forward on her knees. She could see from his face that he was pleased with her. He had a way of reassuring her, although his choice of words was hardly seductive in a traditional sense. Again, as she held her quivering sex over his face and prepared to lower it, she realised what he’d meant by stripping sex to its uncomplicated state and being honest about what you want and what you feel.
‘Oh fuck, Red. Wait! I need to see this properly.’ She heard his hand reaching around until he found the switch for the light and flicked it.
‘Oh my God,’ he breathed. ‘You beautiful, wanton creature. I wish you could see your pussy right now as I can. Spread with lips parted and already slick with your juices. Feel how much I need to bury my face in it.’
He gripped her hand and roughly shoved it on his rock solid cock which flexed under her touch.
‘Now feed me. Sit that beauty right on my mouth. Rub that dirty pussy into my face. Grind it into me so that I can’t breathe.’
So she did. She was fairly tentative at first because her pussy was very tender from the thorough fucking she’d received only hours before and his stubble felt like razor wire, but his hands came down on her thighs and pushed her down. Again, he ate her like he was starving. He sucked, he licked, he shook his head and growled into her, snatching breaths through his nostrils when he had the chance. And it felt amazing – the sharp pain she’d felt dulled slightly and somehow added to her pleasure. Emboldened, she began to move with purpose – what did she care if he couldn’t breathe? He didn’t seem bothered.
So she ground her pussy on to his face and slid up and down until his tongue slid over her anus. She jerked forwards, horrified that she’d moved too far but his hands pushed her right back and he rimmed it, groaning increasingly louder and louder. She forced herself to relax. It felt good but it felt wrong. She distracted herself by stroking his cock and she heard him growl into her. She couldn’t make him come though . . . she couldn’t even keep her hand on his cock . . . not when she felt her orgasm teetering on the brink.
She let out a long, guttural moan which only made him increase his efforts. She thrust back and forth, fucking his face for all she was worth until she finally cried out and her pussy began to contract and spasm. She tried to lift off, to make him stop, but his hands pushed her thighs down as he greedily drank all she could give him until she could no longer stay upright. She flopped down to one side and he released her thighs. She heard him gasping for breath and when she lifted her head, she could see his face was puce . . . puce and soaking wet. She flopped back down, feeling her pussy still contracting as little tingly waves continued to emit from inside her.
She heard him get his breathing under control quickly, another sign of his fitness. ‘You dirty fucking bitch. You filthy, amazing, beautiful bitch. Look at my face – it’s soaked. Your juices are in my mouth, my nose, my eyes and even my ears! All I can ta
ste and smell is you, you filthy, wonderful creature.’
She stretched out, basking in his coarsely worded praise once more. He loved it. I loved it. So what does it matter what he calls me and what he says. He has a dirty mouth . . . but it’s oh so talented.
As he showered, she lay on the bed waiting for her legs to function properly and trying to get some air to her pussy which felt like it burned. Tentatively, she reached down and touched it gently. My God, that’s sore!
‘What’s the matter? Your whore of a pussy needing more already?’
She snatched her hand away. ‘No, I was just checking that it was still intact.’
He chuckled. ‘Get that curvaceous, fuckable body out of bed and throw your clothes on before I’m tempted to take you apart.’
She shot off the bed, not willing to take the risk that he wasn’t joking. He wandered around naked so she watched him as she dressed. His cock is huge even when it’s soft . . . I wonder what he tastes like . . .
‘Don’t make me horny, Red. Or you might never get to work today. Just think how that pussy would feel if it was fucked repeatedly through the day,’ he warned.
‘I’m not doing anything!’ she protested, pulling her dress on and searching for her shoes.
‘You were lusting after my cock. And, for future reference, you don’t need to do anything. Just knowing you want my cock inside your whorish pussy is enough to make my restraint snap.’
‘Oh . . .’ she whispered.
A cocky, lazy smile spread across his face. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t make you wait too long. Remember what I said earlier – before the day’s out . . .’
Damn fucking work! Why couldn’t it be the weekend? Oh my God . . . I’m even thinking like a slut!
He drove her home and she felt every single growl of the engine . . . every throb vibrated through her tender pussy. By the time she’d directed him to her flat, she was a mess of needful lust. She waved him off when he said he’d wait for her so she wouldn’t be late, knowing that she’d want to jump his bones the second they were through the door. And from his bemused expression as he’d told her not to rush but to get into work whenever she was ready, she knew he knew it too.
She showered quickly and then remembered his promise to fuck her before the day was out. She jumped back into the shower and tidied up her pubic hair as best she could in the limited time she had. She dressed quickly yet carefully in her favourite bra and knickers and a knee-length dress, then dried her hair, cursing that it took so long. She spent the entire time telling herself to get a grip and hurry up into work . . . and she wasn’t sure it was just because she didn’t want to be any later than she could help. His words about getting addicted kept popping into her mind but she told herself each time that it was just the novelty of being fucked like that, that it would burn itself out and her life would return to normal. She wasn’t addicted. She was stronger than that.
She was ninety minutes late when she finally managed to get to the hotel.
‘You’re very late this morning,’ commented Barbie, who was wearing the most revealing blouse that Isla had ever had the misfortune of laying eyes on. Not only was it sheer white chiffon worn over a lacy white bra that did nothing to hide her nipples, but it had a neckline that only just covered her surgically enhanced breasts.
‘You’re very inappropriately dressed,’ Isla snapped. ‘Don’t ever wear that blouse to work again. You give people one of their first impressions of the hotel. I don’t want them to think it’s a knocking shop.’ She made to head off to her office but Belinda’s words stopped her in her tracks.
‘Don’t be a prude, and anyway I’m afraid you’ve been overruled. Xander said I looked lovely.’
Isla’s palm itched, wanting to desperately slap the smug expression off her face. The only thing that stopped her was a little voice in her head, taunting her about being jealous.
She stomped off through the lobby and into her office, fuming at Belinda’s audacity and Xander’s stupid affirmation that such attire was suitable for work. She switched on her computer and prepared to catch up on the day’s work, not even thinking of going to get her morning coffee although she desperately felt like one.
She opened her emails and was intrigued to find one from the man himself, sent around ten minutes before. Hey, Red. I’m a little tied up this morning. Be a doll and bring me a coffee.
She could scarcely believe her eyes so she read it again. The nerve of the man! Be a doll? Who the fuck does he think I am, Barbie? And since when am I a coffee maid?
She was tempted to knock on his door and tell him where to go but she remembered that the message said he was tied up and she didn’t want to burst in there if he was in a meeting or on the phone. Instead she replied by email. Xander, firstly I’m not a doll and secondly, I’m too busy to make myself a coffee, never mind provide you with waitress service. Perhaps you should ask Belinda – it will give you another chance to ogle her tits in that top!
Her finger hovered the cursor over the send button. She reread it and decided to delete the last sentence. She didn’t want to sound jealous. She would take up the issue of professionalism and Belinda’s lack of it with him in person. She deleted the offending sentence and hit send.
Within seconds, he replied. I do hope that having a tender pussy hasn’t put you in a bad mood. I need coffee. Stat!
Vowing that it would be the one and only time he sent her to make him coffee, she headed off to the staff kitchen. To her dismay, she found Nadine in their making some godawful herbal drink, no doubt yet another dieting attempt, although she must weigh seven stone at the most.
‘Hey, Isla. How come you were so late this morning? And you look tired. Late night was it?’
‘I had an appointment first thing, that’s all.’
‘Really? Belinda said that when she’d asked Xander where you were, he’d told her you were coming in late because he’d kept you here yesterday, past the end of the working day.’
If you knew that then why ask, you stupid mare? Fuck me, she’s getting as irritating as Belinda! Isla thought, then, out loud, ‘That’s true so I took the opportunity of arranging an early appointment as I didn’t have to be in till late.’ Now fuck off back to reception, you nosy cow!
‘Oh.’ She looked disappointed. ‘Was it a doctor’s appointment? Is everything okay?’
Always on the lookout for gossip . . . well, you’re getting none from me! ‘No, it wasn’t a doctor’s appointment. Shouldn’t you be getting back to reception? You’ve only just started work and you’re in here, taking a break.’
Nadine gave her a withering look, leaving her in no doubt that she’d realised that Isla had only just started work, yet was making a drink. But she sashayed off out the door without another word.
Isla realised that she didn’t know how Xander took his coffee. She made hers as usual but made his black and put some sugar lumps and a little jug of milk on to a tray, cursing under her breath about how long it was taking her when she had work to do.
She carried the tray back to her office, placed her own coffee on the desk, and took the tray to his door, knocking on it softly. It was ignored. She knocked again, louder this time and a very irritated sounding Xander barked for her to come in. She pushed down the handle and tentatively opened the door, desperately trying not to drop the coffee on to his new, pale cream carpet.
‘Oh thank the Lord for that. I thought you were ignoring me,’ he muttered, without her seeing him look up from his position on the sofa.
Isla walked towards him but could see nowhere to put down the tray. The sofa, the floor and the table were covered in pieces of paper.
‘I didn’t know how you take your coffee so I’ve brought milk and sugar, just in case. Um . . . Xander? Where shall I set the tray down?’
‘Anywhere.’ He was engrossed in what he was doing so she placed the tray down on an uncovered piece of carpet and attempted to make room on the table.
‘Don’t touch anything,’ he s
napped, making her jump.
‘I was just trying to make room for the tray, that’s all,’ she replied, trying not to sound as offended as she felt.
‘Just leave it there, I’ll sort it.’ Then he cursed as the phone on his desk began to ring loudly. ‘For fuck’s sake, what now? Red, get that would you?’
Rolling her eyes at her seemingly new secretarial role, she crossed to the large desk and snatched up the phone. Then she realised she didn’t know his full name and didn’t know what to say. Common sense prevailed and she used her own name instead.
A disembodied voice asked to speak with Xander Rhodes. So that’s his name! She asked who was calling and put the call on hold.
‘Xander, it’s Robert Chambers from Chambers, Smythe and Co. solicitors. Do you want to take it or should I take a message?’
He shot up from the sofa, sending papers flying everywhere. ‘I’ll take it. You can leave now.’
Feeling once more like a naughty schoolgirl being dismissed from the Head’s office, Isla hurried back into her own office. As she neared the door, she heard him say, ‘I’ll bring it with me as soon as I’ve finished . . . It’s your job to figure out how – that’s what I’m paying you for!’
For the rest of the morning, she tried to concentrate on her work but it was difficult. She couldn’t help but wonder whether the distance he’d put between them was because he was busy and distracted or whether it was because he’d fucked her and discarded her.
A little before midday, he appeared holding two large box files stuffed with documents. ‘I’m going to be out for a couple of hours or so. I’m not going to be contactable so if anything comes up, you’ll have to deal with it.’
She shrugged. ‘I don’t have your mobile number so I couldn’t contact you anyway. Don’t worry, I can cope!’ She smiled but he didn’t return it. He had the look of a worried man, as he nodded curtly and left.
Isla decided to work through lunch to make up for her late start but then realised that she’d not eaten breakfast either. She was digging through her desk drawer to see if she had any of her stash of breakfast biscuits left when Dean arrived. He smiled but he looked wary.
