Page 8 of Devil In A Suit, Vol. 2

I feel the warmth of his hardness slip between my thighs. He’s holding his cock firmly in one hand so that he can run it along my opening.

“So fucking wet,” he says as he teases me. I move my legs slightly apart, practically beginning him to enter me, but that only makes him pull back. “You want me to fuck you so badly, don’t you?”

I whimper in response, because I absolutely do. Right here, right now, bent over this desk, I want him to fuck me more than I’ve wanted anything ever. This is not awkward fumbling in a dorm room. There’s no stale beer or cold pizza, no hoodie crumpled on the floor. This is not something I want to stop, not something I can stop. I need it. I want it. Now.

Even though I’m also a little frightened, the adrenaline rush of fear and need and lust is a heady mix. I feel like everything is heightened, like every single cell in my body is alive with feeling.

He brings the head of his cock right to my entrance, stretching me ever so slightly, teasing me with what could be with just a little bit more force.

I try to force him further by arching my back and pushing my ass towards him, but he puts his hands firmly on my hips, halting my progress. He’s right there, and I can’t do anything but feel how close, yet how far. If it weren’t for the desk holding me up I’d collapse to the floor. But as quickly as he pushes against me, he pulls back. His lips come right to my ear, his tongue moving down to the spot on my neck that makes me liquefy. Then he whispers softly in my ear, “Not here.”

I worry he’s going to stop. To pull up his pants and order me out of his office. But instead he returns his cock to me, this time pressing it firmly into my clit.

“Soaking wet,” he says as the head of him slips and rubs and sends me closer and closer to the edge. With one hand he uses his cock to work me over, the other snaking up and inside my shirt. His thumb brushes gently across my nipple, and then he pinches it hard between his fingers. The sheer pleasure coming from my clit coupled with the exquisite pain in my nipples has me practically purring like a jungle cat. I can hear his smile as he whispers, “Come for me.”

And that’s all it takes. My body explodes, my breathing harsh and ragged. I press so hard into the glass topped desk that I worry it will shatter into a million pieces. I open my mouth to cry out, but he’s a step ahead of me, a palm coming up to press firmly over my lips. As the last waves of my orgasm wrack through my body, I throw my head back, leaning into him, giving his lips full access to my neck. He is more than happy to oblige, leaving a trail of kisses and tongue as I ride the last wave to shore.

He steps back from me, and I feel the absence like an amputation. He’s only a few inches away, but it might as well be miles. He gently lowers the hem of my skirt until it’s back around my knees, my inner thighs still slick.

I turn around, an addict instantly ready for more.

“Now?” I ask, my voice husky, but he shakes his head.

“When I fuck you, it won’t be a quickie in my office. I want you naked and laid out before me. I want hours. I want every inch of you for myself,” he says, and again, it’s not a request. He’s ordering me around like he’s ordering me in a restaurant where the chef is more than happy to oblige. And he’s right, because I will do whatever he asks if he’ll just make me feel like this again.

That devilish smile quirks back at his lips, his eyes looking down at his cock, still hard and at attention between us. Still wet from what he’s just done.

“My turn,” he says, and this time it takes no prompting from him. I drop to my knees and take him into my mouth yet again, hungry with desire. I work the base of him with both hands as my lips and tongue travel along the length. Flying blind, I take my cues from him. When I moan, his cock hard on my tongue, his eyes roll back, and I know that’s his favorite. So I keep going, sucking harder as his breath grows more ragged, his fingers tangle in my hair. I gaze up at him as that control he’s so famous for melts away, because here on my knees with his dick in my mouth, I own him. I know it for sure.

“I’m coming. Take it,” he rasps, and I have only a split second of nervousness before I know what to do. I take him deep in my mouth and squeeze the base of his cock hard as the first warmth of his orgasm explodes onto my tongue. I devour it and him, working him hard until he’s over the cliff and relaxing at the bottom.

He falls back into his desk chair, sweat on his brow.

He reaches down and lifts me up until I’m sitting on the edge of his desk, then adjusts his pants, the sound of his zipper and belt buckle letting me know we’re done for now. Then he takes his seat in his office chair again.

His face grows shadowed. He looks like he’s seriously considering something, parsing his words. “I can’t have any disrespect in this office,” he says finally, his voice even like he didn’t just come in my mouth. I jerk my head up to face him as if I’ve been slapped. This is seriously what he wants to talk about right now? “I know I was, as you say, coldhearted and cruel to you this week, but my life is extremely … complicated. And I try to remove as many complications as I reasonably can. You can’t take it so personally.”

I can’t hide my confusion and disgust. It’s written all over my face, but he doesn’t blink. If this is his version of an apology, then he has some work to do, and I open my mouth to tell him so when he does something truly shocking, in an afternoon of shocking events.

He reaches for my hand.

My eyes watch as he takes it between his large, strong hands, cradling it like a baby bird, his thumb stroking the back of my knuckles. When his eyes lock on mine, they are like pools of dark chocolate, warming me from the inside out.

Still, I can’t let him use me and push me away. I can’t overlook the way he’s treated me this week. I have some power here. I saw it when I was on me knees. I can’t let that go.

“I just want to be treated like a real person,” I tell him, gesturing to the coffee cup now cooling on the desk.

He gives my hand a firm squeeze. “I know that you’re real, Quinn,” he says, the tenor of his voice suddenly slightly husky. “All too real.”

The sound of his phone ringing shatters the silence. He glances at it and grimaces. I try to catch a glimpse of the screen, but he sweeps it off the desk and into his hand too quickly.

“I have to take this,” he says, releasing my hand. He stands and quickly rearranges his pants, tucking in his shirt and brushing back his hair. In less than a minute, with military precision, he’s back in boss mode. No one walking in would have any idea how close he’d just come to being inside me, unless they happen to see the pile of torn lace on his desk, still wet from my desire. I glance at it, then sweep it into his lap as I turn to go.

I nod. “I’ll see you soon, Mr. King,” I say softly, my eyes locking on his one last time before I go.

There’s a river of things left unsaid between us, but as he reaches to pick up the phone I know now will not be the time. Still, I cling to what he said earlier. Not here.

And all I can do is hope that there’s a place out there, somewhere soon, where I can finally give myself over to him completely. And where he might just give himself to me in return.