Authors: Cynthia Sax
He thrusts. I push. He thrusts. I push. We battle back and forth for fulfillment, our sexy contest of wills escalating my arousal.
Henley is stronger, a healthy male in his prime, and I’m forced to concede defeat, submitting to him, matching my rhythm to his. We move together, and all talking, all thinking stops as we lose ourselves in the physical, in each other.
I pant, he grunts, and the headboard bangs against the wall, the sounds of our joining filling the hotel room. Desire coils around me, squeezing the air from my lungs, tightening my pussy around his shaft, increasing the friction, the delectable warmth between us.
Henley isn’t fucking me. He’s making love, every touch of his fingers, every nibble of his lips, every swivel of his hips infused with caring, with ownership, with the force of forever.
“Henley.” My voice thins with passion.
“Not yet.” Henley denies me release, prolonging my torment. He grinds into each thrust, pressing his body against my clit, stripping my restraint until I’m bared to him. I whimper and cling to his shoulders, struggling to hold back my orgasm, to please him.
“You’re strong,” he drawls in my ear, his lips brushing against my skin. “Strong enough to face the world alone if you had to.” He stills, dangling me over the precipice, and I dig my leather-covered fingernails into his skin, desperately holding onto him, needing one more thrust to push me into the abyss. “But you don’t have to. I’ll be standing by your side today, tomorrow, and forever.”
Henley pulls back his hips, sliding his cock head along my inner walls. “Come for me, kitten.” He slams into me, filling my pussy with hard cock, and he bites my earlobe, severing my grip on reality.
“Henley,” I scream, bucking, breaking, my pieces flying in different directions, sharp and deadly. Henley roars, pulsing hot jets of cum into my writhing body, pinning my ass to the mattress. I rake my fingertips over his back and he drives even deeper, fusing our forms together, all of him flowing into me.
“I love you, Henley.” I don’t know anything except this truth, my thoughts fried, my brain empty. “I love you so much.” I stroke his skin and suck on the base of his neck, his veins pumping under my lips, the beat reassuringly strong.
“I love you too, kitten.” He slumps on top of me, covering me with his big form. I swallow my squeak of protest, needing the reassurance of this full-body connection.
He’s here and he’s mine. I splay my fingers over his back. I’m never letting him go.
“T
HIS WAS A
great meeting.” I smile at the human resources personnel representing Blaine Technologies’ LA and New York offices, the companies now fully integrated. “I’ll send the minutes with the action steps and responsibilities by the end of the day.” I stand, avoiding Ludmilla’s gaze. The former Volkov Industries’ employee’s eyes soften with a sympathy that makes me cringe. “Thank you.” I clasp the binder against my chest and rush out of the meeting room.
“Miss Volkov.” The woman follows me into the sixth-floor hallway.
I plaster a smile on my face and pivot on my pretty pink heels. “Please call me Kat.” I tug on my matching blazer. My fingers are bare. I left my gloves in a drawer in my desk, beside my collection of brightly colored sticky notes. “Do you have a question about the new security policy?” I attempt to steer the topic of conversation away from the anniversary of my father’s death.
The New York team surrounds Ludmilla, their expressions equally solemn. “Our thoughts are with you today.” Ludmilla’s tone is unnaturally gentle. The other employees nod their heads. “Your father was a brilliant man. He changed the future of technology, improving our lives.”
“He
was
a brilliant man.” I tilt my chin upward, blinking back tears. As my wedding to Henley approaches, I feel my father’s loss more and more. My uncle will fill my father’s role in the ceremony, walking me down the aisle, lifting my veil, giving me away. I swallow the lump of emotion building in my throat. “Thank you.”
“His death was a tragedy.” Ludmilla isn’t finished. She wants to talk about my father, as many people do. I can’t. Not yet. “I often wonder what he could have achieved if . . .” A familiar shadow falls over me. The woman’s jaw drops and her eyes widen. “Mr. Henley.” She steps backward.
I turn and glance up at Henley. He’s wearing the Barker Blacks, the shoes he wore on the day we met, and he’s dressed all in black as he always is, his suit Italian, the exquisitely designed jacket clinging to his broad shoulders.
“There’s an urgent situation requiring Miss Volkov’s attention,” Henley rumbles. His gaze is fixed on my face, his lips are flat, and his brown eyes glimmer with intent. He’s rescuing me, saving me from the sympathy of others.
Tension drips from my shoulders. “I’m coming right away.” I flutter my fingers against my chest, feigning alarm. “If you’ll excuse me.” Ludmilla nods, rendered speechless by the presence of Blaine Technologies’ head of cybersecurity. I slide my palm along Henley’s scarred skin, he folds his fingers over mine, securing me to him, and we walk toward the bank of elevators.
A tall thin man approaching us raises his gaze above my head and abruptly turns left. Heads duck down, hiding behind gray cubicle walls. Men and women gathered by a humming printer scatter, abandoning their printouts.
I look at Henley and my lips quirk upward. He’s scowling. “You’re frightening people again,” I observe. When he’s in a foul mood my man is a formidable sight.
Henley jabs the button for the elevator. “Today’s not a day to be Mr. Nice Monster.”
Today I need a wall between my fragile heart and the well-meaning concern of others. Henley is serving as this wall, frightening our coworkers away. “Thank you,” I whisper, gratitude swelling within me.
He squeezes my hand. The doors open and we enter. Henley glares and the elevator empties, the two young men in ill-fitting black suits hastily exiting. The button for the fifth floor has been pressed.
“We have the elevator to ourselves.” I place my hands on Henley’s shoulders and rise onto my toes, pressing my curves into his muscle. He hooks his arms around me, holding me to him.
The doors open on the fifth floor. A short stout man steps forward. Henley turns his head, frowns, and the man backs away, mumbling words I can’t decipher. The elevator doors shut once more.
“The employees will think you’re firing me again.” I smile.
“Good.” Henley grunts, patting my ass. “They’ll know no one is immune to my wrath, not even the woman I love.”
“Not even a Volkov.” I drop my gaze to his mouth.
“Not even my future wife.” Henley lowers his head, his breath wafts over my cheeks, and I part my lips.
The elevator doors open on the fourth floor. Henley sighs, straightens, and tugs me forward. Grant grins at us, the Fortress’ receptionist seated at his desk. He’s surrounded by huge crystal vases filled with white lilies, roses, and chrysanthemums, the fragrance of the cut flowers hanging heavily in the air.
“Someone is popular today,” I tease, knowing the real recipient of the bouquets. Deliveries have been arriving for me at the apartment and the office building all day, the flowers and other gifts accompanied by letters of sympathy and remembrance. So many people loved my father.
“Someone
will
be popular once he redistributes these flowers to the lovely single ladies of Los Angeles.” Grant laughs, his brown eyes sparkling with mischief, and my spirits lift.
“Don’t encourage him.” Henley unlocks the reception doors. “Come.” He holds out his left hand.
I clasp his fingers and we move through the glass-lined hallways. Employees wave at us, and I wave back. Henley’s team is my team now, part of our extended family, and the Fortress has become my sanctuary, a place to hide from the harshness of reality.
Henley opens the door to our shared office, pulls me into the space, and closes the door behind us. “Kitten.” He surges toward me and captures my mouth with his. I part my lips and he invades, claiming my tongue.
He tastes of strong black coffee and smells of his distinctive lemon-and-cedar cologne, the combination arousing me. I moan into Henley’s mouth and sag against his body, trusting him to hold me upright. He curls his hands over my ass, easily supporting my weight.
We kiss and touch, the connection between us humming, growing stronger with each passing day. Henley and I live together, sleep together, work together, and in three months we’ll marry, tightening our bond even more. I swivel my hips against the ridge in his dress pants, his hard cock pressing against the black fabric.
The screens around us reflect images of the interiors and exteriors of Blaine Technologies’ two office buildings, located on opposite sides of the country. Henley’s side of the office remains strictly professional, no personal items cluttering his black desk, the color scheme monochrome.
My side of the room explodes with color. An African violet grows in an adorable lavender pot positioned on the corner of my desk. An early photo of my father and uncle is confined behind a sheet of clear glass, the pink picture frame surrounding the image matching my leather-padded desktop. Colorful flowcharts are plastered over the wall behind my chair.
“I need you.” Henley steps backward, his eyes as black as his suit. “Badly.” His voice is deep, his control frayed.
He’ll take me hard and fast, the way I like it, the way I need it, especially today. My breath hitches and my nipples tighten. “Where do you want me?”
“Bend over my desk.” Henley circles the massive piece of furniture and taps on a sleek black keyboard. He has prepared for this encounter, the multiple screens on his desk pushed to one side. “Stick your perky ass in the air.” The wall-mounted screens reflect the interior of our office, displaying our images.
I stride toward his desk, swaying my hips seductively, my knees weak with anticipation. Lowering over his workspace, I press my ample chest against the hard wooden surface. “I’m yours to command.” I grant Henley complete control over my body, not wanting to think, to remember.
“Widen your stance,” he orders, the dominance in his voice wetting my panties. I obey, spreading my legs, my skirt hitching higher.
Henley walks behind me. I remain bent over the desk, my chest flattened, my ass tilted upward, my body vulnerable and exposed. “You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, his approval warming me. “Look at how beautiful you are.” I raise my head and stare at the screen. My pink skirt stretches snugly over my rear, my legs pale and shapely, my blond curls bouncing around my face.
Henley cups my ass and squeezes, the power in his grip exciting me. “You’re mine, kitten,” he murmurs, sliding his shoes between mine, forcing my legs wider. His pants tent around his erection.
“I can do anything I want with you.” He tugs my skirt higher. Cool air wafts between my thighs, over my heated flesh.
“I can ask our team to join us, to watch us as I fuck you.” Henley reveals the curve of my ass. I wiggle, aroused by his fantasy.
“If I was a good person, a generous person, I’d allow them to touch you, to stroke your pretty pink pussy with their fingers, their tongues, their cocks.” He pulls my skirt to my waist, exposing my delicate pink panties.
“But I’m not a good person.” Henley skims his palms over the silk. “I’m a monster.” He pushes his right hand between my thighs, the grooves and ridges on his skin setting off sparks within me. “And monsters don’t like to share.” He glides his fingers over my soaked panties, heating my body to the point of combustion.
Henley must feel how wet I am, how much I need him, my desire impossible to hide. “I don’t want to be shared,” I whisper. He’s more than enough man for me.
“I’ll never share you,” Henley assures me. “Other people might watch us, but no one else will ever touch you.” He rubs his fingers over my silk-covered pussy, the friction tantalizing. “You’re my kitten.” He flattens his free hand against my back, pinning me to the desk. “Your body belongs to me.”
“Yes,” I moan, rocking into his palm. “And you belong to me.”
“How could I ever want another woman after meeting you?” Henley pulls on my panties and the fabric slips between my ass cheeks, parts my pussy lips, putting a delectable pressure on my clit. “You’re pink silk and ivory skin, soft panties and even softer skin.” He squeezes my curves, his palms large and rough. “I want to eat you up.” He bends over and licks along my panties. I gasp, the sensation spiraling my arousal upward.
“I’ll eat you later.” Henley straightens, brushes his hands over my ass. “I need to fuck you now.” He pulls down my panties to my ankles, releasing my body from its pink-clad bondage. “Look at how beautiful you are.” Wonderment softens his voice.
“Look.” Henley fists my hair, his grip gentle yet sure, and drags back my head, forcing me to look at myself on the screen. “See how pink and pretty your pussy is?” He spreads my folds with his rough fingers and I tremble, my thighs shaking, glistening with moisture. “See how wet you are for me?”
He strokes me up and down and I watch him touch me, fascinated by the contrast of his scarred fingers against my smooth flesh. “You’re a good kitten.” Henley slips one of his fingers inside me and I clench down, closing my pussy walls around him. “A greedy kitten.” He pumps me, my pussy lips clinging to his finger, a shameful sucking noise echoing in the space.
Outside the office doors Henley’s team is working, not knowing their boss has one of his thick fingers deep inside me, wantonly displaying my body for his wicked pleasure. I spread out my arms on his desk, the wood hard under my fingertips.
He adds a second finger, stretching me open, and I grip the edge of the desk, savoring the fullness. “You like that, don’t you?” Henley asks, his voice low and deep. “You like having my fingers in your hot pussy.” I undulate on the hard wooden surface. “What else do you want?” He pulls out and I grit my teeth, my body empty without his fingers.
“I want your cock.” I bow my spine, presenting my ass to him. “I want you to fill me with your cum.”
His zipper rasps, the sound loud in the silence, an undeniable declaration of intent. “You’re no longer using protection.” He prods my pussy with his cock head, his tip massive compared to my tight entrance. “Do you want my baby, kitten?”