by Elaria Ride
Because I’m hers. And she knows it.
I’m so caught in that realization, so overwhelmed with being this close to her, that I only notice she’s unbuttoned my shirt when I feel the pressure of her fingertips across my nipples. She ghosts her hand down over the ridges of my pecs and abs before slowly, slowly trailing to the growing bulge in my jeans.
When Marina finally caresses the erection that’s been raging since I saw her so many hours ago, I release a high, pleading sort of moan.
And as much as I need to explain — need to request what I’ve wanted for so long — she hasn’t given me permission to speak. So I don’t dare. Instead, I just meet her heated gaze with my mine and hope against hope that this is enough.
Please, I attempt to convey, my breath coming in sharp pants. Please, Marina… let me worship you.
I haven’t said a single word, but after sharing that charged, panting glance, she understands… unbelievably, she understands, because she pulls back and quickly fumbles with the button and zip on my jeans.
“Yesss,” I hiss, thrusting out my hips to meet her nimble fingers.
She makes quick work of removing my aching cock from my boxers, and the second she does, it earnestly springs from front flap. I can feel beads of pre-cum dripping out the tip, desperate for more. She stares at my cock with that same coy little smirk, but there’s something hungry in her eyes this time.
When she darts out her tongue to moisten her lips, I have to slam my eyes shut again — because shit, how pathetic would it be for me to pop off when all she’s done is look at me?
I crack open an eyelid after I get myself under control, and I’m delighted by what I see. From the way a gradual blush is spreading across her chest, it seems like she’s almost as turned on as I am.
Which is good, because I don’t think I can hold on much longer.
“Now,” Marina begins calmly, jolting me from my reverie.
I gulp and stare at her beautiful heart-shaped face, her brown ringlets, her amber eyes that have darkened with desire; I hope she understands that I’m her willing slave…that I’d do anything, anything at all, just to remain in her presence…
But she doesn’t have time for romantic gestures — she never has.
“I’m going to fuck you,” she says plainly, adjusting herself so that her panties are shoved to the side. Her stomach jiggles just a little as she does, and my fingers twitch with the restrained desire to touch her, to caress her rolls, to feel her soft curves beneath my hands.
I quench that urge by tightly balling my fist; I know she’d never allow that. Not right now, anyway.
Marina clears her throat pointedly and grips my chin.
“You will obey me,” she commands, lowering her pussy so tantalizingly close to my cock that I can feel her warmth and wetness. I bite back a groan and try my utmost to listen to her words, even as I feel my heart rate picking up.
“That means you will not come until I say,” she adds, shifting so the head of my cock is just kissing her warm heat.
I slam my head against the seat again — but then something else occurs to me, something I need to address before this goes too far.
“Wait,” I pant, raising a palm to get her attention. “I’ve got condoms in the desk, and —”
She cuts me off with a chuckle. “Finn. As I told you yesterday, I’m on birth control. And besides…”
Marina stops for a moment to allow her pussy to rub around the head of my cock. This does nothing to strengthen my resolve. She smirks at me again and leans in, her voice a husky whisper. “I want to feel you dripping out of me. All day.”
Fuccckkkkkk.
Some garbled version of her name escapes my lips, but all I’m really focused on is not blowing my load. There’s no way I can continue to hear her say things like that if she wants this to last at all. She feels too good, she’s too wet, she’s too hot… and I haven’t even been inside her yet today…
As such, I decide not to comment on what she’s just revealed — because I’m not sure I could handle facing that thought right now.
“Finn,” she says, jerking my chin again.
I begrudgingly crack an eye open, and I’m not disappointed by what I see; her entire face is flushed, her breasts are heaving against the confines of her bra, and I know she’s almost as ready as I am.
“We are still playing by my rules. Which means you will not come until I say.” She narrows her eyes. “Are. We. Clear?”
We just stare at each other for a few moments, each of us panting as the temperature in the office rises several degrees. After several strained seconds, I finally give her a curt nod: The confirmation she’s been seeking.
“Good,” Marina breathes, leaning in for a tender kiss that betrays the ferocity of her demands. “That was all you had to do.”
And then — in one fluid motion — she leans back, shoots me a sultry wink, and fully impales herself on my cock.
We groan in unison as I slide into her. Her tight walls hug me perfectly, surround me on all sides with their liquid heat, and just as before, I need a second to get myself under control.
But Marina understands me, just as she always does. She swivels her hips above me to seek a better angle, but doesn’t start moving, not yet. It’s not until I’ve reeled myself back from the brink— which she, again, instinctively seems to just understand — that she begins her slow, torturous movements above me.
And fuck, almost as soon as she starts, I already know I’m in trouble… I’d underestimated exactly how wet she is. She’s sopping, absolutely dripping, so wet that she’s already coated my cock with her juices.
I grunt beneath her, but she just keeps rocking herself back and forth, her eyes slammed shut, her hands gripping the sides of the chair; I know, even without looking, that she’s so fucking wet that she’s also going to soak through my boxers and jeans, and yet, I can’t be assed to care… in fact, in turns me on even more.
“Look at me,” she orders, and I’m all too eager to comply, snapping my head up to meet her. Shit, she’s hot…all fleshy and bouncing and round and perfect, and I wish, more than anything else, that I could actually touch her, grip her everywhere…
That’s clearly not what she has in mind.
Without breaking our heated gaze, Marina swiftly changes tactics. She begins rotating her hips in a figure-eight pattern above me, and I can tell from the way she’s panting, from the way her eyes are starting to close with every pass of her hips, that my cock hitting just the right spot on the hood of her pussy, rubbing against her clit with the perfect amount of pressure.
Which means she’s close.
It’s a heady thought, one that almost almost pushes me over the brink, but fortunately, I don’t have to wait long. With a high-pitched keening sound, Marina scrunches up her face, tilting her head back, and she’s so tight, so wet, so close that I feel her orgasm crash into her.
I allow myself to release a low moan — my first utterance since I’ve entered her — as her walls rhythmically clench around the base of my cock, providing the sweetest, most delicious vibrating friction. I’m in awe of her beauty, unable to look away, even as she continues thrusting herself though the pulsating aftershocks of her release.
And of course, I have to set my jaw, grinding my teeth to prevent myself from coming right on the spot. Fucking hell, keeping myself from spurting has got to be one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.
I breathe a well-earned sigh of relief when I finally feel that she’s stopped coming around me. It’s all I can do to hope and pray that I’ll finally finally be given permission to finish, myself…
A few moments later, I shoot her a hopeful glance.
Marina’s pushing away sweaty tendrils from the side of her face, and the satisfied look on her face tells me she won’t extend this delicious torture more than she already has. She leans in to press another gentle kiss to my lips, and fuck, the friction of that motion gets has me so embarrassingly close to the edge.<
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Thankfully, she seems to read my mind — yet again.
“Come for me, Finn,” she whispers, beginning to rock herself back and forth again, and I slam my head against the seat, releasing a strangled moan as my balls start to harden and clench.
I’m closeclosecloseclose, so close, that when she brings a shaky hand down to pinch my nipple between her fingertips, I know I’m a goner.
All I can do is surrender myself to the feelings rushing through my body; I release a deep, primal braying sound as my cock explodes inside her. White-hot pleasure rips through me and I feel myself spurting rope after rope as I helplessly thrust my hips into her pussy. All I can think of is her walking around the rest of the day with me leaking out, soaking through her panties…
My breaths are gasping, panting, heaving, but I don’t have room for shame, only pleasure. Thankfully, Marina seems to take as much satisfaction in this as I do, because she’s mewling softly above me as she teases my orgasm to completion.
A few minutes later, the world finally comes back into focus.
I take a breath and crack open my eyes. Marina’s grinning from above me, our bodies still intimately intwined, hands balanced on my shoulders. She’s dewy with sweat and the air smells like sex and she’s so fucking beautiful that I’m compelled to say the only thing that comes to mind — the only thing that makes sense, regardless of the consequences.
I know, now, that have to ask… because if I didn’t, I’d spend the rest of my life regretting it.
“Marina?” I stare into her amber eyes. She cocks her head, but doesn’t speak.
I swallow; it’s all or nothing. I’m glad she’s done playing games, glad that she’s allowing me to talk, because I need to say this, even if she rejects me.
So I summon courage I didn’t know I had, courage that bubbles from a place deep inside me, courage that only came from her, if I’m being totally honest, and I stare at her again.
And then five words leave my mouth, the same ones that have been on the tip of my tongue since the first time I saw her:
“Will you be my girlfriend?”
9
Marina
For the first time in my life, accepting an offer doesn’t require so much as a thought. It’s easy. Effortless. One of the simplest things I’ve ever considered.
I’m still straddling his lap and evidence of our activities is still dripping out of me, but somehow it’s a uniquely intimate moment, one that takes almost no consideration.
“Yes,” I breathe, holding his head in my hands. “Yes.”
Finn gives me the broadest, most exuberant grin I’ve ever seen. “Yeah?”
I nod, leaning in to kiss him, and he chuckles against my lips.
“I didn’t uh…” He gulps nervously. “I didn’t come on too strong?”
His words give me pause.
Truth be told, if Finn had been anyone else, I might’ve said no.
But he’s not anyone else.
He’s sensitive. Sweet. Attentive to my every need. Honest— to a fault. I blush, looking down. Of course, it doesn’t hurt that he loves my curves, just the way they are… and that he’s the sexiest man I’ve ever seen, much less slept with.
Finn’s still staring at me with those imploring puppy dog eyes, and I can’t help the feelings rising in my throat.
I bite my lip. “You’re just… different,” I admit, stroking his cheek. “From anyone else I’ve ever dated.”
He laughs as I crawl out of his lap.
“Yeah, well,” he says, reaching for a box of tissues on his desk. “You’re a little different for me, too. I’ve never actually gotten to be with someone I’ve fantasized about… someone I really wanted.” The words casually emerge from his lips as he starts to clean himself up, but I’m not quite sure I understand.
Is he actually saying… ?
“What do you mean?” I reach for a tissue, too, and start to do some blotting. Not that it’ll help much.
Finn shrugs and tosses a soggy tissue in the trash.
“I’ve only been with one girl,” he confesses after a minute.
Oh. Her.
He’d mentioned her briefly at the restaurant last night. The one he’d barely been able to get it up for.
“The one who was, you know…” I trail off, hoping he’ll finish the sentence for me.
Finn makes a face. “Skinny,” he confirms, wrinkling his nose.
I laugh. “I’m not sure if I’ll ever believe you,” I mutter, pulling my shirt down over my broad belly.
Finn snorts. “Well, believe it, because that’s just how it works out here. We love curves… I love curves,” he clarifies, grinning. “Most skinny girls move away after high school. I’m told the rest of the world is more… accommodating… of their type. At least that’s the way it was in sommelier training in California.”
I roll my eyes. The world being accommodating of skinny girls would be an understatement; thinness is an expectation everywhere else in the world. You’re shamed for being different.
I glance into the mirror on the far wall and casually readjust my curls. Yes. I think I look sufficiently professional.
“So when can I see you again?”
I whip around to face Finn. He’s already standing, finishing the last of his buttons.
“Oh.”
I hadn’t really considered that. But I guess if we’re making this official… I feel the heat rising in my cheeks at the thought that I’m someone’s girlfriend.
Seeing him again, though? Without relying on Sylvie for all my babysitting needs? I bite my lip. That’s going to be hard.
But then I see a wall calendar displayed next to the curtain, and a thought occurs to me…
Yes!
“Wait — it’s the 15th!” I exclaim, staring at the date. “Marco’s with Mike tonight!” I can’t believe I’d forgotten about our every-other-weekend arrangement. “He’ll be by to get him around 6. ”
“Oh yeah?” Finn strides over and wraps his arms around my waist. He leans in to the hollow of my neck and rubs his stubbled chin down my smooth skin. “You gonna be ok without the little guy?”
I shrug. Letting go of my baby every other weekend had been a rough transition at first, but fortunately I’d never doubted Mike’s parenting abilities. At the very least, I know Marco is safe and loved when he’s with his father.
“Yeah,” I allow, shifting my weight. “It’s just one of those things I’ve gotten used to.”
As much as I’ve accepted the circumstance, it’s still not something I’d like to dwell on. I do my best to put on a bright smile as I turn around to face Finn.
“There is a silver lining, though,” I say softly, tracing a fingertip down his muscular forearm. “Now I get a little bit of free time…”
Finn’s chuckle rumbles through my chest. Good. He seems to understand that I’m not quite ready to go into detail; I wonder for the umpteenth time how I managed to find someone who just intrinsically understands me…
“So?” he asks with a grin, ripping me from my thoughts. “When do you want this free time to begin?”
Mike comes for Marco at exactly 6. He’s cordial in his punctuality, and we exchange pleasantries and small talk like we’ve been doing it all our lives. If his eyes weren’t filled with that cool look of indifference, I’d almost be able to forget what he’d done to me.
But despite all that? I honestly couldn’t be happier.
I bite my lip and I watch him take Marco by the hand as they trot down the apartment steps. As much as I’ll miss Marco, I can’t deny that I need this… that I deserve it. Seeing Mike again just confirms what I’ve always known: He wasn’t right for me.
I close the door and rush to get ready before Finn arrives, although he doesn’t seem the type who cares too much about toys or mess being strewn about. I pick up a few of Marco’s toys and shake my head, wondering, not for the first time, why Finn is so cool with me having a kid. His interactions with Marco have been brief —
but they’ve been undeniably memorable for both parties. Marco’s been talking about “mama’s friend Finn” for the past several days.
I’ll have to get it out of him tonight… it seems like everyone we meet mentions me having a kid, and how that somehow makes me perfect for Finn. I don’t understand it, but based on what I’ve seen so far, I’m not one to complain!
Just as I finish re-applying my makeup and refreshing my curls, I hear a knock from the foyer. I’m not wearing anything too crazy — just a lower cut v-neck shirt and a pair of jeans. But I know it’s the type of thing that will drive him crazy…
After one last bra adjustment, one that pushes my breasts right where they need to be, I scurry to the door. I stand in front of it for just a second and draw a deep breath before wiping my sweaty palms on my jeans.
I’m not afraid, I realize. Just excited.
With one final, shuddering breath, I reach down to open the door.
And fuck, if Finn isn’t a damned vision standing in my doorway.
He’s obviously shed his work attire — not that I mind what he wears to the office. But these tight-fitting jeans and unbuttoned red flannel shirt? I bite my lip, a little embarrassed that I can already feel myself getting wet; my eyes drift to his crotch, an area that looks surprisingly innocent while clothed. Of course, innocent isn’t how I’d describe him while he’s… aroused.
Finn clears his throat. “Marina,” he says, grinning, and it’s only now that I notice the takeout bags in both of his hands.
Oh! Of course.
“I’m sorry,” I manage, blinking as I feel the heat rise on my face. “So sorry. Um… come inside?”
He smirks, but doesn’t say anything, for which I’m supremely grateful. Maybe one day I’ll get used to the …effect… this man has on me.
I distractedly watch his ass saunter inside as I close the door behind us. I hadn’t gotten a good look at that part of him before — not in the dark, not while we were in the car.
Then he bends over, just a bit, to place the bags of food on my tiny kitchen table…and I realize I need to remedy this situation. And sometime soon.
