Authors: C.J. Fallowfield
‘Are they wet?’ he asked, his voice gruff and
husky as he tossed the rope onto the table next to me.
‘Yes. Very, Sir,’ I confirmed.
‘Bring them to me, I need confirmation,’ he
ordered. I slinked over, feeling very naughty to have my skirt around my hips
and my backside on display in his mahogany panelled-boardroom. He took them
from me and slowly rubbed them between his thumb and forefinger, not taking his
eyes off mine. My chest was starting to heave, the blood in my veins coursing
through a little hotter and faster. He was hard enough to resist on a normal
day, but dressed in a three-piece suit, when he was in one of his dominant
moods, took some beating. ‘Hmmm, I’m still not sure. Take off your skirt and go
and sit on the edge of the table in front of my chair. I need to check for
myself.’
‘Yes, Sir,’ I breathed, reaching behind me for
the zip.
‘No, turn around,’ he demanded. I smiled as I
did and continued to undo the zip. He loved my backside. He loved nothing
better than seeing me in a small pair of bikini bottoms in summer after
swimming in the loch, or up at the waterfall. I wriggled my hips, letting the
material slide down to pool around my ankles. ‘Bend over, pick it up, fold it,
and place it on your chair.’
I did as I was told, hearing him hiss between
his teeth as I kept my legs together and slowly bent forwards, knowing I’d be
exposed from behind. He groaned as I stepped out of my skirt and straightened
up again. I walked over to deposit it on my chair, then turned and hopped up
onto the end of the boardroom table, crossing my legs as I leaned back, my
palms on the leather section that was inset into the shining, smooth mahogany.
Dan strode forward, pulled out his chair, took a seat, and turned to face me.
He said nothing as we looked at each other, but his eyes were telling me
exactly what he was thinking. I slowly parted my legs and put a foot on one of
the armrests, repeating with the other, and was rewarded with a smile and a
flare of his nostrils. He touched my knee with his index finger. I watched as
he ran it up my thigh, tiny crackles of electricity sparking along the trail he
made as he got closer and closer to my throbbing pussy.
‘O,’ I gasped, as he dipped a solitary finger
into my core, turned it back and forth, then withdrew it and put it into his
mouth, sucking slowly, his eyes hooded as if he were drunk on me.
‘Hmmm. Still better than champagne, Ellie, and
you weren’t lying when you said you were wet, were you?’
‘No, Sir,’ I confirmed, my breathing and heart
rate getting out of control. The desperation to have him touch me properly, or
kiss me, was reaching unbearable levels. He reached up and slowly undid his tie,
then stood up again as he stretched it out between his hands.
‘You’re not very quiet when you come, and I
don’t like the idea of the Operations Director next door hearing your orgasm
screams. Open your mouth.’
I gulped and nodded, letting him position the
tie in my mouth, then swiftly tie it behind my head. I felt dizzy with
expectation. He was always vigorous and rough when he was in one of these
moods. Much as I loved tender, caring, gentle Dan who made love to me, I adored
the sexually-aggressive Oliver Davenport who fucked me until I could barely
walk. He sat back down and undid the top button of his black shirt, then
cricked his neck and wheeled his chair forward. I squealed into my gag as he
slid his hands under my bottom, tilted my hips up into the air, and lowered his
face until I could feel the heat of his breath skimming across my slick flesh.
I closed my eyes, blocking out the stark white-painted ceiling and the modernistic
light sculptures, wanting nothing to take away from the bliss of the moment
when his lips and tongue tasted me. It was everything I’d hoped for and more. He
licked first, slowly dragging his tongue over my quivering clit, and my fingers
curled around the edge of the table as I groaned. Flickers of fire expanded
from where he’d touched me and I thrust myself upwards, asking for more.
He chuckled and did it again and again, each
time a little firmer, each time building me higher and higher, but never quite
giving me what I needed to really hurtle down into the orgasmic abyss. I
whimpered as he continued to tease me, writhing and flexing, rocking myself
over his mouth. I was continuously teetering on the edge and it was torture.
His thumbs parted my engorged labia and finally,
finally,
he applied his
lips, circling my clit as he sucked, nipped, and lashed with his tongue. I felt
like someone had pushed me over the cliff as my climax rushed towards me at
speed, my body weightless as I fell, uncontrollable spasms flexing my body as I
screamed into his gag. Bright colours swirled behind my closed lids as I spaced
out, completely intoxicated by the rush of endorphins flooding my body, but he
didn’t even give me a second to try and catch my breath before his tongue
plunged into my tightly-clenching pussy and started to fuck me. My thighs
trembled around his ears, my nails scraped the underside of the wooden table, and
I sobbed with pleasure as I was hit with another orgasm within minutes.
I was still zoned out, my body completely soft
and malleable, just as my brain was right now, when he flipped me over onto my
front, my legs dangling from the table, and caressed the cheeks of my backside.
I turned my head, resting my cheek on the cool leather below me, trying to refocus
my eyes as I slowly drifted down from my high. I felt him pick up my hands and
pull them together behind my back, then wait for a moment. The first time he’d
tied me up, I’d suffered a panic attack. It had hurtled me right back into the
dark, depressing, and terrifying bunker. It hadn’t taken long for me to
remember that with Dan, I was always safe, he’d never let any harm come to me,
but he always hesitated, giving me the chance to indicate if I didn’t want him
to do it. I slowly nodded my head, giving him permission, and he deftly and
nimbly secured my hands tightly behind my back with the thin, silky bondage
rope he’d brought with him this morning. I breathed in through my nose faster,
adding to the dizzy, high feeling in my head, wondering what he was going to do
to me. I heard his zip being lowered and moaned when I felt his plush crown
nudging against my entrance.
‘Fuck, Ellie, you’re so damn wet. Do you have
any idea what a turn on that is?’ he rasped. He gripped my hips and with no
niceties at all, slammed his length inside me, my muscles screaming their
protest and delight at the same time. I clenched tightly around him, gripping
him hard, forcing a number of expletives from him as his fingers dug into my
flesh and he repositioned his hips, sliding me back on the table until I could
feel the wide girth of his root challenging my inner muscles to accommodate
him. I mewled into his tie, lifting my backside and widening my legs, desperate
for him to start moving. ‘Flight socks, baby,’ he uttered, making me giggle for
a second as he reminded me of his expression of how well I gripped his large
cock.
My giggle soon gave way to a series of screams
as he started to power in and out of me, grunting with each thrust as he lifted
me up onto my tiptoes, then dropped me back down against the table. My nipples
throbbed in my bra, squashed against the table, and my desire for him oozed from
me, lubricating every hard slam into my overheated core. Each time I thought
sex with him couldn’t get better, couldn’t take it to the next level, he proved
me wrong. I sobbed as my third orgasm of the morning hit me, quaking around him
as he fought to maintain control himself. He slid out of me with a grunt and
his fingers slipped through my moisture, sweeping it up and circling my
clenched backside as my eyes widened. It wasn’t something we did often, but
when he took me there, always aggressively, it felt illicit and primal,
bordering on dangerous, which only added to the excitement of it for me. He
dragged his erection through my folds, adding additional lubrication, then
slowly started pressing against my backside until I relaxed my muscles and
allowed him entry with a cry as my nerve endings started to burn.
‘Fuck,’ he hissed, as he slowly slid inside me.
He ran his hands up under my blouse, his fingertips caressing my skin, making
me shiver as my skin came to life under his touch and the material of my blouse
was gathered up around my shoulders. He reached around to slide his hands
between the desk and my breasts, cupping them, slipping his fingers inside the
lace to free them and squeeze them tightly. I gasped as he leaned forwards, feeding
me the last few inches of his cock as his lips skimmed my cheek and moved to my
ear. ‘You’re mine, Ellie Davenport,’ he whispered. ‘There’s nowhere on this
body that I haven’t kissed, licked, sucked, or fucked. And you know that it
will never be as good with anyone else, don’t you?’
I nodded my agreement, wishing he’d remove the
tie and plunge his tongue into my mouth, fucking it as hard as he was about to
take me from behind. That wish was soon recanted as his fingers pinched my
nipples and he pulled back then slammed into my rear, making me scream as a
feeling of bliss tore through me. I sincerely hoped his director next door had
taken an early lunch.
We made our way through The Domville hand in
hand, Andy a few paces behind us. My legs were still shaky from our passionate
and raw fucking only half an hour earlier. Luckily I had some makeup in my
clutch and was able to freshen up quickly in the bathroom of Dan’s suite. He’d
had to abandon his tie due to the teeth marks and wet patches on it from where
I’d got over enthused from his attentions. We headed towards the orangery at
the back of the hotel, accessed through the grounds. It was usually reserved
for weddings, but when it came to any of his family, Dan spared no expense. I
smiled at him as we heard the sound of children’s laughter drifting through the
double doors that led to the garden. The glass doors parted for us and I hissed
through my teeth to feel the nip of the autumnal afternoon in the air. We
followed the pathway to see that it didn’t seem to bother the children at all,
they were all squealing as they jumped up and down on the bouncy castle under
the close supervision of the hotel staff. Jonas was on there, with James’s
grandchildren, but I couldn’t see Oliver or Eva.
‘Leave him,’ I said to Dan as he made a move to
fetch him. ‘He’s having fun. He’ll come in when he’s ready, definitely when
food is served. The boys have your insatiable appetite.’
Dan grinned and winked at me, squeezing my hand
and making me blush. We headed into the beautifully decked-out framed glass room,
with fairy lights everywhere the eye could see, large Chinese glowing lanterns
hanging from the vines above us. Pink, purple, and white balloons adorned all
of the round tables at the far end of the room that were set up with white
linen tablecloths, silverware, and crystal glasses. I laughed when I saw Oliver
staring, his eyes on stalks, as he took in the vast array of sweets on the old-fashioned
sweet stall we’d hired, for children and adults alike. His face fell when he
saw us approaching, knowing he was about to have some limitations placed on
him.
‘
Please,
just a few,’ he begged. I was
so proud he’d waited for permission. He was so much better behaved and obedient
than his brother, who was turning out to be a real handful.
‘Don’t overdo it, you can have more later,’ Dan
warned. ‘You have Eva’s party food coming soon and you know how much you love
sausages.’
‘Will there be sausage on sticks and sausage rolls?’
he asked, his face lighting up.
‘Of course there will,’ Dan laughed, patting
his head. ‘Plus peanut butter and jam sandwiches, cookies, and ice cream and
jelly for you youngsters. We’ll be having a slightly more sophisticated
afternoon cream tea. Where’s your sister?’
Oliver pointed over in the direction of where
some small tables had been set up full of colouring crayons and paper, then turned
his attention back to the sweets.
‘Look at that,’ I sighed, resting my head on
Dan’s shoulder. Eva was sitting scrawling on a chair next to Logan Steel. There
were only four months between them and we were due to head over to America in
February to stay with Lucas and Summer for his second birthday. He was the
spitting image of his father, gorgeous looking with dark hair and serious grey
eyes. ‘Do you think they’ll fall in love one day?’
‘Over my dead body,’ Dan chuckled with a shake
of his head. ‘I don’t ever want to imagine her having sex, let alone the kind
of kinky sex Logan’s father used to get up to, if he follows in his footsteps. Eva,’
he called. She dropped her crayon immediately, her bright green eyes, framed by
Dan’s long dark lashes, searching the room when she heard his voice. She broke
into a huge smile and slid off her little chair and ran towards us. Brooke had
dressed her in the outfit that Eva had chosen before bed last night. Pink
tights, a pink long-sleeved top with a black glitter tiara emblazoned on the
front, a black mini skirt, and a pink headband to sweep her long dark hair off
her forehead.
‘Daddy,’ she cried, lifting up her arms, beyond
excited to see him. She adored her father, almost as much as he adored her.
‘Happy Birthday, my beautiful Princess,’ he
murmured, sweeping her up and kissing her cheek.
‘Kiss, Mummy,’ she called, pursing her pretty
pink lips as she leaned towards me, clinging to the edges of Dan’s waistcoat.
‘Happy Birthday, darling,’ I smiled, kissing
her and running my hand through her thick, silky smooth hair. ‘Are you having
fun?’
‘Yes,’ she nodded seriously. ‘I have
presents
.’
She pointed to one of the tables near the ones that had been set up ready for
afternoon tea. There was a mountain of them, all wrapped in an assortment of
bright colours with ribbons and bows and tags with glitter.