In Love With Lucy (NSFW) (9 page)

I gasped, trying to wriggle away slightly, but he used his other arm on my lower body to hold me still. I moaned in frustration when his mouth lifted from my sex.

“Play with your nipples,” he demanded.

Mindless with the need to climax, I did as he said, lifting my hands to cup my breasts, pinching my nipples between my forefinger and thumb, tugging them the way he had earlier.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” he whispered.

“Please,” I begged, so close to coming that I hurt with the need to orgasm. “I need it.”

His answer was to continue to massage that spot deep inside me and close his lips around my clit. He sucked gently, using the tip of his tongue hard and fast on the bundle of nerves. With a scream, I came, thrashing violently on his desk as the most brutal, intense orgasm of my life took over my body.

He continued to wring every ounce of pleasure from my body until it was almost painful and I struggled to get away. Suddenly, he was no longer between my legs. I heard a crash as he shoved himself out of his chair and loomed over me.

I watched as he ripped his shirt from the waist of his pants, practically tearing it from his body, buttons flying all over the room. The satisfaction I’d felt moments before disappeared as I saw his naked torso for the first time. He was nothing but lean muscle and smooth, tan skin. I pushed myself into a sitting position, placing a palm against his pectoral then lightly dragging my nails down, over his taut stomach, to his belt buckle.

He groaned, reaching into his back pocket, as I moved my hand downward until my palm cupped him through the material of his slacks. His erection was rock hard, thick, and jerked in my clasp.

I licked my lips, causing him to groan again, as I began to work on his belt buckle and undo his pants. The material fell to his upper thighs and I saw the tip of his cock rising out of his tight black briefs. My fingers skimmed across it as I hooked them into the elastic waist of his underwear. He shuddered beneath my hands as I tugged at the material.

As soon as his erection was free, I circled him with my fingers, stroking a hand over the soft skin. Chris made a hissing sound and thrust against me twice before his hand gripped mine, stilling my motions.

“But I want to touch you,” I said breathlessly.

“Later.”

I watched in fascination as he used his teeth to tear open a foil packet and roll the condom down his cock. Though I had climaxed just minutes before, the sight of his semi-nude, aroused body was enough to pique my interest once again. As soon as the condom was in place, Chris leaned down and slanted his mouth over mine, nipping at my lips. His hands kneaded my breasts before he tugged sharply at the tips. I gasped as the slight pain speared through me and shot straight to the place between my legs.

Chris pushed me down on the desk and jerked my hips so they were hanging slightly over the edge. I stilled as I felt his cock probe between my legs, barely entering me. He thrust a little deeper, enough to have me gasping and arching against him.

“Damn, you’re tight. I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked.

I shook my head, slowly releasing my breath. While it hadn’t hurt, the sensation was slightly uncomfortable. It had been a long time for me.

He pulled out slightly before pushing a little further inside me. He continued the pattern, thrusting deeper each time. I thought I would lose my mind at the sensation of his hard cock sliding against all the nerve endings in my pussy. Finally, he filled me completely, his hips pressing against my ass. My internal muscles clenched around him, long since adjusted to his girth.

He moved slowly, in and out, giving me time I didn’t need. I reached up, digging my nails into his forearms as he gripped my hips to keep me from moving too much.

“Harder,” I demanded. “Faster. I need more.”

I could barely form words but the ones I used must have convinced him that I was ready for everything he could give me because he withdrew and lunged back into me, hard and deep. My pussy spasmed around him and I moaned. That was exactly what I wanted.

Spread out on his desk, my dress almost completely unbuttoned and my breasts freed from my bra, I stared up into his intensely blue eyes. Because of the height of the desk, he had to stand upright in order for our lower bodies to line up. I felt exposed and I had never been more aroused in my life.

I watched as he lifted a thumb to his mouth, wetting the pad before lowering it to my clit. With a firm, knowledgeable touch, he rubbed and pressed in time with his thrusts until I felt strung as tight as a bow string. My back arched as I reached for the orgasm that hovered just out of my grasp.

As I climbed higher and higher, Chris leaned over me slightly, just enough to wrap his lips around my nipple and suckle hard. That was all it took. This second climax ripped through my body, feeling as though it would peel the skin from my flesh as he continued a fast, rough pace. The crest intensified and was prolonged by the sensation of his rigid cock pounding into me.

At last, he jerked and shuddered, reaching his own climax just as I was beginning to come down from my own. I watched as he threw his head back and the muscles in his throat worked as he groaned. My internal muscles fluttered and twitched around his still-firm cock as he stilled his movements and leaned over me.

Chris ran a hand down my torso, his fingertips dragging over my still sensitive nipples. “Stay here with me tonight.”

I hesitated. He had a bedroom in the office for nights he had to work late or had conference calls in Europe or Asia. In fact, we both kept extra clothes for emergencies or wardrobe malfunctions, but I wasn’t sure about spending the night together, especially here at the office. It could be dangerous. Not just in a physical sense, but an emotional one.

Still, I nodded, smiling back at him when he grinned at me. Somehow I couldn’t help thinking that I should run as fast and far away as my feet could take me.

A
s silently as
possible, I slid out of the warm, comfortable bed. Until about thirty seconds ago, Chris had been plastered to my back, his arm slung over my waist, our legs tangled together, and my ass pressed back into his hips. I had been plotting my escape when he suddenly turned over in his sleep.

With a sigh of relief, I waited until I was sure he was still asleep and moved. As quickly as I could without making a racket, I gathered up my dress, belt, bra, and shoes and snuck into the bathroom to dress. I had an inkling that my underwear was on the floor somewhere in Chris’ office.

Once I was fully dressed, I tiptoed out of the bathroom, heels in hand, and snuck out of the bedroom like a thief. I gave his office a quick cursory search but couldn’t find my panties anywhere. Though it galled me to do it, I had to leave before Chris woke up and realized I’d left.

After the insanity on his desk, Chris ordered Chinese food from a restaurant that regularly delivered our meals when we were working late. He insisted we eat naked in the bedroom. Then I fulfilled one of my fantasies of having him at my mercy as I rode him into oblivion. Sometime after eight, I dozed off, exhausted from multiple orgasms and my previous sleepless night.

I woke to Chris nibbling and sucking at my nipples. An hour later, I’d acquired a new appreciation for the number 69 and enjoyed three more orgasms. After that third round, he pulled me into his arms, my cheek resting against his chest, and toyed with my hair while we talked. He asked me questions as though he couldn’t get enough from me, as though what I thought and felt mattered to him.

It freaked me out. Little by little, I realized that he wanted to
know
me. Not just the superficial stuff, like the fact that I loved Indian food and preferred Einstein’s bagels and lattes if we were going to have an early morning meeting. He wanted to understand what made me tick. Chris Barden was attempting to fill in the blanks left in the bits of information he’d learned about me over the last three years.

And my traitorous heart went the way of my hormones. I felt myself blooming under the attention like a flower. I chalked it up to years with little to no true male appreciation, but, deep in my heart, I knew that was a lie. I wouldn’t have felt so giddy if Marcus asked me all these questions and cradled me to his chest as though I mattered. I probably would have told him to knock it off and let me sleep.

So, doing what every self-serving coward did, I waited until Chris passed out and I jackrabbited the hell out of there.

I waited for the elevator, glancing over my shoulder every few seconds like a criminal. I didn’t take a complete breath until I was settled in the driver’s seat in my car in the basement parking lot. It was almost three by the time I made it home.

I showered and pulled on a pair of panties and a camisole before I set my alarm and fell into bed. Between the sex and the internal freak-out, I was exhausted and I drifted straight into sleep.

The shrill ring of my cell phone jerked me out of deep slumber. Disoriented, I blinked, trying to focus on the display screen, when I noticed that it was 5:30 a.m. and my caller was Chris. I took the coward’s way out yet again and sent the call to voicemail. Then I silenced my phone.

Somehow I managed to fall back to sleep and catch another hour before my alarm went off at 6:30. My hair was a disaster from my late night shower, so I twisted it into a loose braid, allowing several of the wavy strands to remain around my face. I wore a light blue cashmere sweater and a camel pencil skirt to work that were both comfortable yet sexy in an understated way.

I was in the office by 7:45. I knew Chris would be annoyed with me for sneaking out like he were a dirty little secret, but I had no idea how to explain my sudden need for space to him. Hell, I didn’t even understand it. How could I explain that his desire for me to stay had somehow filled me with the urgent need to get as far away from him as possible? Even the act of sleeping next to him seemed to intimate, despite the incredible sex.

Chris’ door was open when I came in, but he was nowhere to be seen, so I followed my usual morning routine, stowing my purse in my desk and heading into the kitchenette to make coffee. I filled the reservoir, added grounds to the filter basket, and stood in front of the machine, watching the bitter brew drip into the carafe. Between the stress of wondering what Chris’ reaction would be and my own lack of sleep, I was in my own little world.

That had to be the only reason I didn’t hear the door between the reception area and my office shut or sense Chris’ presence in the kitchenette until he was quite literally on top of me.

I gasped as a hand hooked my elbow and whirled me around. I gaped up into Chris’ furious face as he crowded me back against the counter, his palms planted on the granite surface to either side of me. He pressed me against the unforgiving wood and stone, his face filling my vision and those bright blue eyes burning with anger.

I stared at him and I knew my eyes were probably the size of platters and my mouth hung open.

“What in the hell were you doing?” he roared.

I was fairly certain he wasn’t referring to me making coffee, but to my leaving in the middle of the night. I took a shaky breath and tried to calm the violent pitch of my stomach. Dear God, he was angrier than I had ever seen him, even angrier than the day after my car accident when I’d tried to come to work against his orders.

When I didn’t answer quickly enough, he barked, “Well?”

I swallowed, suddenly fervently wishing I’d done the smart thing and called in sick for the next three weeks. I assumed he wouldn’t be happy that I’d left, but I honestly didn’t think that he would be this angry. “I, uh, I couldn’t sleep. I woke up around two and started worrying that Sarah might see us come out of the bedroom together this morning. Once I started worrying about it, I felt like I had to leave.”

It was all bullshit, but plausible bullshit. In reality, I couldn’t handle the intensity of the feelings he inspired within me and I’d snuck out like a spineless twit. No way in hell was I admitting that to him, though. Chris Barden didn’t appreciate clingy or needy women. He was too analytical, too methodical. I’d overheard him more than once informing his flavor of the month that they could not just show up unannounced at the office, demanding to see him. He preferred independence and now I knew why.

An independent woman wouldn’t hesitate to tell him no when he asked her to spend the night. And if she did stay, she wouldn’t wait until he was asleep before sneaking out like a teenager headed to a party. No, she would sleep deeply and blissfully on her side of the bed, back to my gorgeous boss. Unfortunately, I didn’t seem to be as independent as I thought because that mental image was enough to cause a mild panic attack.

I blinked up at Chris, realizing that he’d said something to me while I zoned out.

“I’m sorry?”

The hard arms that caged me in, slid around my waist gently, pulling me away from the cabinet and against his warm body. I watched as Chris’ face softened.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

I nodded, shocked at the difference in him. He actually looked human rather than robotic. And the way he was looking at me. I liked it a lot more than I should.