Authors: S.M. Lynn
“
Angel, you taste incredible. You are incredible. I was right before when I said I wouldn’t be able to get enough of you in one night.” His fingers slip between my folds and he presses one into me. I gasp at the feeling. “Shit! You are so fucking tight. This is heaven.”
I moan in response; this i
s definitely heaven. Suddenly I’m saddened by the fact that I will never experience this again but I have to push the thought from my head and concentrate on just tonight. “Please,” I whimper indicating I want more. He is happy to give me exactly what I ask for, running his tongue over my pulsing clit while continuing to push his fingers in and out of me. I feel the tension building between my legs. With a gentle nip at my clit, I come apart in his mouth, moaning my satisfaction.
“That was incredible. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. And the noises you make when you come for me, well…
” He trails off. He kisses his way up my body stopping at my breast to pull down the cups of my bra revealing my taut nipples. Gently he takes each one in turn into his mouth and sucks and nips at them.
“Oh god.” I can’t stop the scream that co
mes from me. His touch, his lips are the best things I’ve ever felt. “I think you have entirely too many clothes on though, sir.” I grin pulling at his dress pants. He slowly unbuttons them and lowers the zipper to let them join the rest of the clothes on the floor. “I don’t think you will be able to do what you need to with those on either.” I indicate his boxer briefs, which are barely containing his sizable erection. Holy shit! I may have bitten off more than I anticipated for my first time in almost 3 and half years. As he pulls them off, my lust breaks those thoughts and I pull him down on top of me. “I need you. I need you inside me. Please.”
Somewhere in the depth of my subconscious, I realize
that I’m begging him, begging a stranger to fuck me but I don’t care. “Sweetheart, anything for you.” Removing a foil wrapper from my nightstand, I open it and slowly roll it down his length. He settles between my legs and crushes his lips to mine. I can taste some of myself still on his lips and tongue and this only causes my excitement to grow. As his tip presses against my entrance, his fingers find my clit and rub in gentle circles. With a single thrust, he fills me completely. “Aaaahhh.” I cry out with the pleasure and pain of him inside me.
“Fuck
! You are so tight. I don’t think I ever want to leave.” His hips begin pushing into me and I feel his length grow even more within me.
“Fuck me,” I whisper, my tongue flicking at his ear. I ru
n my fingernails over his pebbled nipples and then up and down his back. I grip onto his shoulders as I ride the waves of pleasure that are building within me. “Oh god!” I scream as I shatter around him.
With a few more hard thrusts
, I can feel him pulsing inside me. Still bearing his weight he collapsed on top of me holding me close. “I could get used to hearing you call me a god when I’m making you come.” He kisses me deeply and holds me in his strong arms.
A few minutes later, he pulls from me and walks
to the en-suite to discard the condom then rejoins me in bed. “I know we need to talk but you’ve exhausted me.” He rolls me into him and wraps his arms around me; we’re both asleep in a matter of minutes.
Several hours later
, I wake to an empty bed, an empty room and as I search, an empty apartment. I knew this was the MO for hook ups like this and I tried to prepare myself all night for the pain that I knew would come with the loss of him but I apparently hadn’t done a good enough job. I crumple in front of my bedroom door and cry myself to sleep on the hardwood floor.
I
wake again a few hours later to Gavin screaming my name. “Celeste! What the fuck is going on? You didn’t text me and I’ve been calling and texting like crazy for the last several hours.” Noticing my red face, “What the fuck did he do? And where is the bastard? I’ll kill him.”
Finally finding my voice, “No, Gavin
, it wasn’t like that.” My emotions are clear in my voice. My broken heart threatens to burst again with every word. “He was wonderful. I knew I needed to prepare myself for this as a one-night thing but I guess I didn’t do a very good job.” I wipe at the moisture as it runs down my cheeks. “He’s a wonderful man and my current state isn’t his fault at all; it’s my own. I’m sorry; I completely forgot to call you.” Though since you are just now coming home you must have thought I would be fine, I mumble. “I’m sorry to have worried you. But I’m really glad that you’re here now. I need to go to bed. Can we talk about this after I have gotten a few more hours of sleep?”
“Darling,” he kisses
my forehead. “Of course. You should get some sleep. Do you need me to make you some decaf tea or something to help calm you down?”
“No, but, and you know I hate to ask this, would you just lay with me until I fall asleep
?”
“Of course,
” he said following me into my room. He tucks the covers around me before lying down on top of them and holding me until I drift off.
The lobby of Jacobs
’ Tower is pristine. All cream and pale gold, travertine tiles that make the heels of my shoes click as I walk through the entry. The lobby is sparsely furnished with just a small seating area, the receptionist desk and a bank of gold elevator doors off to the right of the desk otherwise the space is completely open with giant two story windows across the front. I grip my portfolio and approach the receptionist. She gives me a once over as I introduce myself and explain why I am here.
Then she picks up the phone, talking briefly before returning her attention back to me. “Ms. Caldwell will be down shortly to take you up for the interview. If you wouldn’t mind waiting over there.” She
indicates the sitting area.
I politely thank her and make my way
over. I reach down into my bag to get out the information I’ll need for the interview and look up when I hear some commotion across the lobby. Oh no, poor guy he almost knocked that vase right off the table. Good catch though. I don’t get a good look at him as I’m distracted but as he makes his way to the receptionist, I can tell from the back that he’s very fit. Man, those pants are doing great things for his butt not that he probably needs it. After a few moments he walks over to the elevators and is gone. Maybe if I get the job here I’ll have a chance to see him again.
“Ms. Brooks?
” After a few minutes, the receptionist calls over to me from the desk.
“Yes
.” I say smoothing my pale gray pencil skirt and grabbing my bag from the floor next to me. I made sure to look my best today. My smartest gray suit paired with a purple silk blouse. My roommate, with all of his vast fashion experience, was so nice and helped with my hair because lord knows I’m hopeless in that department. All in all, I feel really good about today and ready for this interview. After last night, I thought about not even showing up since
he
owns this company but after explaining everything to Gavin, he talked me into still taking the interview. Besides as he pointed out, it’s a large corporation and I will be working in one small department;
he
and I will probably never even see each other. The thought saddens me once again but I push it down focusing on what I need to do to land this job.
“
Sorry for the delay; Ms. Caldwell just phoned and was called into an emergency meeting a few minutes ago and so there’s a bit of a delay in the interview schedule. If you would just head over to elevator 3, security will see you up to the conference room.”
As I make my way to elevator 3, I hear,
“Ms. Brooks?” The voice is vaguely familiar but I can’t quite place it. A large gentleman in a pitch-black suit appears in front of me as I approach the elevator. This is not what I was expecting for a first interview; this place has more security than a maximum-security penitentiary. Why do I need an escort to my interview? I suppose they don’t want people just traipsing all over the building but this seems like a bit of overkill. She could have just given me directions to the conference and I could have made it there on my own.
“
Yes, I’m Celeste Brooks. The receptionist said that you would assist me up to the conference room?” I don’t mean it to but it comes out as a question.
“Certainly, miss.”
His smile softens his serious expression but his tough exterior still screams grizzly bear not teddy bear.
I board the elevator and it quickly
whisks us up to the penthouse conference room. As we step out of the elevator, I’m beginning to wonder if they have the right person. “Sir,” I mutter quietly. “I’m sorry but I think we are in the wrong conference room. I am supposed to be meeting with Rebecca Caldwell in HR to go over the accounting position.”
This room looks like a high roller suite in Vegas. It is beautifully appointed with a large mahogany conference table and leather chairs in the center. Along one wall are
beautifully appointed cabinets with a wet bar beneath. There are various crystal decanters filled with amber colored liquid that I can only assume are cognac or scotch. The other wall is completely glass overlooking the city below. Off to one side is a sitting area that anyone would be jealous off; plush, soft leather sofas and worn tables that look like they could have been made from reclaimed wood. There’s a set of dark mahogany French doors in the seating area leading to what appears to be an office but all I can see from here is part of a desk. My “escort” only smiles that peculiar smile at me again and gestures for me to have a seat at the table. “Can I get you anything to drink?”
“Um
, a water. Please.” It would probably be completely inappropriate to ask for some of that lovely looking scotch or cognac or whatever it is.
He
walks over to the cabinet and I hear a fridge open and shut then he is back in front of me with two bottles. “I didn’t know if you would prefer sparkling or plain so I brought both.” He says and places the bottles in front of me. I immediately pick up the bottle of Perrier and take a large drink. I’m sure my unease is very apparent at this point and while I would normally make small talk with him, my nerves are making it very difficult to form a coherent thought. This is so not what I need today. I was perfectly put together; ready to jump into this job. Now I have no idea what I’m doing here.
“Mr. Jacobs has been delayed. He should be here in a few minutes. Please make yourself comfortable.”
And with that he strides from the room, leaving me and my completely jumbled brain all alone. Mr. Jacobs? Now I know I’m in the wrong place. I can’t be here. I can’t meet with him. Oh god! I’m supposed to be interviewing with a Ms. Caldwell in HR for the accounting position. I can’t see him. As I contemplate running to elevator and leaving this building forever, interview be damned, a man walks into the room. A man does not do justice to the god that I see before me. He is male perfection personified. Dark hair, just long enough to have that slightly disheveled look like its just begging you to run your hands through it. I’m in so much trouble. Holy hell, what have I gotten myself into? Is it too late to make a run for the elevator? Never in a million years did I think I would see him again, let alone have him interview me. He’s on the phone with his face turned down in quiet conversation but I can see his beautiful, full lips as he speaks. I can’t help but think of how those lips felt on my skin, all over my body last night. His Armani suit is tailored perfectly to his body allowing me small glimpses of what lies beneath. Broad shoulders, muscular chest, trim waist and as he turns to pull the French doors closed, I get a glimpse of his fine ass in his trousers. Why am I here? I should just get up and leave but I’m frozen in my seat unable to even stand out of politeness to greet him.
He quietly finishes his call before slipping the phone into his pants pocket and turning to face me.
His face is chiseled but not in hard lines. He has a softness about his features that makes him seem approachable. Then I get to his eyes and again, I’m locked in his stare. Oh my, those are the bluest eyes I have ever seen; like deep pools and I will drown if I stare too long. And it appears I am staring now, my lips slightly parted, as if all the air has gone out of the room. “Ms. Brooks?” He pulls me out of the trance those eyes have caused.
I can’t believe
I’m behaving this way at an interview, an interview with the perfect company, the company I have always dream of, no less. I knew the chance I was taking last night and I took it anyway. Consequences be damned, isn’t that what I said? “Yes, I’m sorry I think the receptionist has sent me to the wrong conference. I can just run back down and get this cleared up.” I sink down in my chair trying to make myself as small as possible. God this is beyond mortifying. I could pray to go back to last night and not allow him to take me into his arms but there’s no way I would ever give up that memory. Despite the redness and self-deprecation I’m putting myself through right now, last night was totally worth it.
“No
, I don’t believe there has been any misunderstanding.” His gaze is mischievous as if he is enjoying watching me squirm or maybe even picturing me as I squirm underneath him. I can’t tell which it is. “I understand that you were to meet with Rebecca today but I decided it would better suit for me to do this interview.”