Dirty Secrets (7 page)

“Bra?”

“Alex!”

“So, no,” he said, and she didn’t correct him. “And you were interested, here. I heard you gasping, biting back your sounds. And then you left. And you’re on the couch, and your pussy is still swollen, still eager. And you’re tearing yourself apart. You’re glad you left but you wish you’d stayed.”

“Alex…” Her voice trailed off.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked. “You tell me, Zoey. You have all the power right now. I’ll stop if you want me to. And you can take your hands away from your nipples and go it alone. Or I can tell you what to do. Your call.” The nipple thing was a pure guess, but from the way she’d responded to his touch on them in the play space, he was quite sure she’d spend time writhing around, her thighs clenching together, as she taunted her nipples. There was a long low sigh from her, nothing that sounded uncomfortable or unhappy. More a sensation of giving in.

CHAPTER

She was going to ruin everything. Absolutely everything. This was her chance.

But maybe it was her chance at more than one thing. And there would be other articles. And she was lonely, and she was sick of being lonely. And he was right about her nipples, and her clit ached so hard that it felt like it had twisted up into a knot.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered, then cleared her throat and tried again, because she was fairly sure that he hadn’t heard her. “I don’t want you to stop.”

She heard a sound, and it took her a moment to figure it out. He’d walked across his office and locked the door. Another set of sounds as he settled down somewhere. She would have guessed the couch in his office. Her brain filled the silence with a thousand details about how wrong this was, how this was going to ruin her career, get her stuck doing this crap for the rest of her life. She’d go home, ashamed of who she was and what she’d done, and everyone would laugh at the girl who couldn’t handle herself at all.

She not-so-quietly told her brain to shut up. For just once, she was going to think about the here and now instead of what was on the horizon. And what was happening right now was that she was tied up in knots, remembering him plunging into her, his mouth on her neck.

“Where were we?” he asked. His tone had dropped, both in volume and in pitch, and it shivered through her. He echoed a little bit too; he must have put her on speaker. She did the same.

“You had me basically pegged,” she said. “Couch, T-shirt, braless.” She ran her palms over the tight flesh of her nipples and sighed, her head dropping back against the arm of the couch. She’d set her laptop down a few minutes ago, and was stretched out full length. “Nipples.” She didn’t choke back the gasp this time as her fingers taunted the sensitive areas, and he made a little sound in response. Her cheeks were bright red, and somewhere in the back of her mind was a continuous loop of
Am I doing this am I actually doing this why the hell am I doing this
but she kept pushing the thoughts away, and focusing on how she felt. “And you?”

“On the couch now,” he said. “I was at my desk before.”

“And are you—” She couldn’t quite get the words out.

“Taking myself in hand?” He laughed softly. “I am, princess. I’m thinking about you, too, how hot you felt, the spice of you. Do you know what I would have done, if you hadn’t gotten dressed so fast?”

“Tell me,” she said.

“I will,” he said, “if you promise to follow along at home.”

A shiver ran through her. “Okay.”

“As I recall, we’d already disposed of your skirt and panties,” he said, and then was quiet. She put the phone on her belly so the speaker was close enough that he could hear the teeth of the zipper sliding free. He made a quiet hissing sound, and she could hear the sound of his hand moving over his flesh, rapid for just a moment, then slowing down again. She closed her eyes and let herself imagine him there with her, watching as she pushed the jeans down her hips, down her legs, and off onto the floor. Her panties followed them. She bent her knees, one resting against the back of the couch, the other laying on the couch, perpendicular to her hip. Her curls, soft and red, were damp, and the cool air brushing against her heated body made her whimper. “Oh, yes,” he murmured. “Yes, that’s lovely. You smell so good, princess. I just want to breathe you in for a long minute. I was going to leave you on the desk, you see, and sit down in the chair in front of you. I was going to put your legs over my shoulders. But I wasn’t going to touch you yet.”

Her fingers, already threading through the curls on her mound froze as if he’d caught her reaching for a cookie. “Why not?” she whispered, and he rewarded her with a chuckle.

“Because I like making you wait,” he said. “I think you’ll make the most delicious noises when you wait.”

“I’m not patient,” she said. Her fingers played over her inner thighs, but she listened. She obeyed.

“I’ll teach you,” he said. “If you want me to.”

“Okay,” she said. “But not right now.”

Another chuckle from Alex. “All right. Not right now.”

“Because I just watched you come,” she said, trying to keep the edge of whine out of her voice. “And I’m aching for you.” Her cheeks were so bright and hot she wondered if she was about to catch fire. Talking dirty was not actually her forte. Sexting, totally her speed. But hey, the man had a great voice. It was worth listening to.

“You did,” he agreed. “You are. And today, I’ll let you come fast. Since we’re in my office, and us making a lot of noise could draw some undue attention. But you should know, you might end up paying for it later.”

“Like last night? Because that would be okay.”

He laughed again, and then his breath drew in fast for a moment. She imagined him on that couch, his suit pants open, his cock in hand, his eyes squeezed shut as he controlled himself for a moment after whatever image had pushed him one step closer to the edge of oblivion.

“So I wouldn’t tease you for too long,” he said. “Because I’m already between your thighs, and you smell delicious, and I don’t think either one of us will last all that long. But I’d still start slow, make you work for it. If I bring you off too fast, you won’t get what you need. I want you to get what you need, Zoey. That’s part of the point.”

“Touch me,” she whispered. “Please touch me. That’s what I need.”

“I would touch you,” he said, “but lightly at first. Just the most delicate touch, with just the tip of my tongue. I’d start at the bottom of your cunt and move up, slowly, circling where my cock just was, and then brushing over the tip of your clit. So light, so feather soft.”

She let her fingers trace that same path, her eyes tightly closed, imagining him there, between her thighs. Imagining his dark brown eyes watching hers as he teased at her, as she resisted the urge to grab the back of his head and grind into his face. “I’d have to sit on my hands to keep from demanding more from you,” she said, and he groaned. Oh, she liked this game, she liked it plenty. She was never going to get any work done ever again.

“I promised I wouldn’t tease, or I would do this to you for so long. Just torment you with the edges of what you want. But not today. No, today, after I make that one swirling motion, I’d take your clit between my teeth and suckle it.”

She let two fingers come down hard on the hood of her clit, and swirled them in tight, rhythmic circles. She gasped, hard, and her hips lifted off the couch. The phone slipped off her belly and clattered to the floor. “Fuck,” she said, reaching for it with her free hand.

“Did you just drop me?” he asked, laughing.

“Sorry.” She should take her fingers away, she should stop and apologize properly, but the vision of his eyes closing with delight as he tasted her wouldn’t leave her brain, and her fingers were on auto pilot now.

“Here I am, licking you senseless, and you drop me on the floor,” he laughed again. “You owe me.”

“Anything,” she said.

“I want to hear you count down from one hundred to one. I want you to keep touching yourself, and I want you to keep from coming until you get all the way to one.”

Her fingers did slow down just a little bit. “Are you serious?” She’d heard it done plenty of times. It turned up all the time on sound sharing services, and more than once, she’d found herself listening to recordings of other people crying out as they struggled to get through the last few numbers without screaming.

“Yes,” he said. “Very.”

“First of all,” she said, her fingers resting on her thigh so she could use her brain for a minute. “I’m way too riled up to get anywhere close. I probably won’t make it past 75. Second—I don’t know, that’s really my point.”

The chuckle from him was low and edible. “If you think this is difficult,” he said, his voice dark, “Then imagine how hard it’ll be when it’s my tongue on you, not your fingers. Practice is good for you, Zoey.”

“One hundred,” she said, because now her pride was on the line. Her clit was buzzing as her fingers started to move again. She kept her motion slow and sensuous, keeping the buzz growing, but not overwhelming her.

“Oh holy shit,” he said, laughing with a kind of joy and delight that added to the vibration growing in the lowest parts of her belly.

Making it through the nineties was easy. She let her voice get slow and sexy on the numbers, teasing them out. Alex made little noises at her every gasp and sigh, which she knew was calculated to make it harder for her. The eighties, she had to start paying attention to the speed her fingers were moving, deliberately slowing down even more. She was lit up like a live wire, and she knew it wouldn’t take much to tip her straight over the edge. The seventies, the trouble started. Her hips were shifting, moving with the intensity of her need. Her mind kept showing her exactly what Alex would look like between her thighs, offering her sensory feedback of his tongue, hot and soft, pressing into her cunt.

She made it to sixty and then had to take some very deep breaths. “I can’t—I’m too—Alex, I—”

“Hold on, princess,” he said. His voice was husky and thick. Was he counting down in his head, too. “I want to hear you wait. Do it for me, and I’ll spank you until you scream.”

“You spanked me last night,” she whimpered. “I want to come, I want to come all over you.”

He chuckled. “Fair. Shit—” she heard him taking his own moment to keep from breaking under the strain of their little game. “Make it to 25,” he offered. “Make it to at least 25, and I will lick you tonight, lick you and fuck you any way that you want.”

The image almost undid her. She bit her teeth down on her lower lip, hard, the real kind of pain that she didn’t like, and whispered “Fifty-nine.”

He cursed, eloquently, but in a long breathless rush. Her pace was faster now, spitting out numbers as quickly as she could. She was cheating, she knew it, but he was groaning. He sound was muffled, like he’d stuffed something in his own mouth to head off the sound, but she could hear the rapid slap of his hand over the rigid length of his cock.

At twenty-five, the orgasm was slapping against her so hard that she thought she was going to die if she didn’t give in to it, but she spat out “Twenty-four,” just because she could.

“Fucking hell, princess, you’re going to kill me.”

The rest of the twenties came in a rush through her clenched teeth.

“God, baby, yes. Please. I want to hear you. Can you scream for me? Can you let me hear you? I want to hear you. Jesus, princess, baby, oh my god, please—”

The teens were a blur of sound, and she wasn’t sure if the noises she was making even counted, even sounded like words, but she got down to ten, and then it was an angry buzzing blur of “nine-eight-seven-six-five-four—”

And the orgasm broke over her, and she couldn’t hold it off any more. Her mouth fell open, huge open-throated cries bursting from her as she spasmed on the couch, her cunt throbbing and pulsing. She pressed fingers into her body, feeling the soft shudder of aftershocks as Alex came with a soft groan.

She curled up on her side, panting as her heart slowed down. She took the phone off speaker and rested it on her ear. “You’re amazing, princess,” he said.

“You’re not half bad yourself, sha,” she replied.

“Seven, then?”

“What, we can’t just do that again and again until it’s time to eat?”

He laughed, and the sound was delightful.
I am in so much trouble. I am in so much damn trouble.
“I think you really do want to kill me.”

“I’ll see you at seven,” she said.