Sweet Seduction Sayonara (5 page)

That’s why I don’t falter. This might be my only chance. I reach down and help her to her feet, slipping the strap of her dress off her shoulder and following its movement with my lips. She shivers beneath my touch, her hands already wrapped up in my short hair. I wonder what she thinks of our colour differences. She’s so tanned, has such glorious, shining, black hair, and I’m blond and several shades lighter.

Our bodies entwined will look fantastic.

Her dress pools at her feet and she’s not wearing underwear. Anywhere. She’s completely bare and I’ve died and gone to heaven. But she is wearing high heels, and for the first time tonight I realise she kicked butt, not only in a long, silky, figure hugging dress, but also in four inch spiked heels.

This woman amazes me.

“Keep the shoes on,” I say, pushing my trousers down off my legs, following that up with my socks. I stand before her utterly naked too and let her take her fill of me. Her eyes, as they follow the contour of my body, feel like fingers stroking over my skin. I’m not muscular like Koki is. I’m not even as well defined as Dom. But I’m a long distance runner, so my body is sleek, athletic, like a panther.

The muscle definition is there, but it’s not showy. I guess that’s me. I’m not a showy person. I’m quite happy to immerse myself in contractual law and leave the court trials up to the show-ponies.

We stare at each other for a suspended moment and then she’s leaping through the space between us, and I’m reaching out to catch her as if it’s the most natural thing, and when we connect, I swear sparks fly, and my hand is fisted in her hair, and her breasts are pressed against my chest, and her lips are smashed against mine.

And I lose it. I lose all control and reason. Me. Finn Drake. The most controlled person around. I keep everything deep down inside, but when I lift her up by my hands on her butt cheeks, and I spin her back against the wall, making picture frames rattle along its length, and I sink into her hot welcoming sheath, I let out a roar.

And Momoko screams, clenching me tightly, already rocking up on my cock and begging for more. I stagger slightly. I’m not proud of it. But my knees go weak for a second and then I’m thrusting and the door beside us is banging as the wall behind Momo shakes with each hard pound into her pussy.

I’m too turned on to care. I need more. I need everything she has to offer. And for once I’m taking what I need.

“Momo,” I moan as her body clenches around my cock and squeezes tightly. “Fuck, baby, you feel good.”

My fingers find her nipple and I tweak it, eliciting a cry from deep inside and a more fervent rock on top of my cock. I think I could almost just stand here and let her fuck me; she’d be more than capable. But we’re both holding our own and when my thumb rubs over her clit she lets go.

It’s mesmerising. But everything about this woman is. She bites her lower lip when she comes. Her eyes close, her head tilts back, her cry of release becomes a soft mewl.

I think I’m in love. I’m certainly in love with her body.

And on that thought, I move us, still rocking into her tight pussy, still fucking her as hard as she’s fucking me, and then I’m lowering her to a couch, and I’m lifting her legs up in front of me, almost bending her in half, and then I really start to let go.

“Yes,” she moans, then follows it up with a series of words in Japanese. I love that I’ve got her so wild she doesn’t even realise she’s speaking another language to me.

“You like that?” I manage to say between grunts.

She nods her head.

“You going to come again?” I demand.

“Please.”

That’s my girl. Begging. What is it with men and making their lovers beg for more?

I pull out. She mewls in complaint. And then I flip her over, her breasts hard against the soft leather of the sofa, her hair fanning out over the cream material looking ethereal.

We’re Neanderthals, that’s what it is. I lift her arse up, press her thighs apart, and then spread her cheeks with my thumbs before I begin to eat her.

She bucks beneath my lips and tongue and teeth. Her body twisting around, trying to get more, trying to pull away, I’ve got her so damn confused.

And then I slip two fingers inside her pussy, find her G-spot and stroke as I suck her clit deeply.

“Finn!” she screams as she comes and I’m feeling about ten feet tall about now. I let her have one orgasm and then I make her have another and another. She’s almost crying with her need to have me inside her.

I don’t want tears. I want… I’m not sure. I’m a little bit wild with this woman.

I pull up, wipe my mouth off on the back of my hand, and then position my cock at her entrance. It’s only then I realise I’ve forgotten the condom and my trousers are back in the hallway and her pussy is weeping, ready for me to sink my cock inside.

“Do it,” she says. “Fuck me.”

My eyes connect with hers, as she looks over her shoulder, and for a split second I wonder who is using whom. Momoko looks desperate for distraction. Desperate for something she thinks I can give her. Desperate, I’m quite sure, to escape.

I’m a chump. Because for a moment I contemplate just fucking her senseless. I’ve already fucked her well and truly as it is. But for a second I consider taking everything she has to offer. Taking and taking and taking some more.

But that’s not me. And I might not know who Momoko is inside, but the woman I’ve seen on the outside so far tonight deserves far more respect than that.

I run a hand down her spine, let her know I’m very much into this, and whisper, “Hang tight.”

Then I’m up and off the couch, out of the lounge and in the hallway, searching frantically through my pockets for a condom. It’s been a while. They might be out of date. But I try to change them regularly, I just can’t think of the last time I did it. And I’ll fucking lose my shit if they’re out of date. Because there’s only so long a guy can remain a gentleman with a woman like that waiting on the couch to be satisfied.

I find one. It’s in date. My heart won’t stop racing. So’s the next two. I grab them all in my fist, streak back into the lounge, dreading the break has doused her ardour. Only to find her in exactly the same position, a soft smile on her lips as she watches over her shoulder.

“A bit late for that, don’t you think?”

“Never too late,” I say, slipping the condom on and enjoying the way she watches my every move.

“I’m on the pill,” she offers. “And clean,” she adds. I hesitate.

Then finish rolling on the condom.

“So am I,” I reply, and then sink myself back inside.

She lets out a shock of air, and as I have to stop moving for a moment, has the time to recover and say, “On the pill, too?”

“What?” I demand, still not moving. Moving would be bad. I’m
this
close to blowing my load, and wouldn’t that be embarrassing?

“You said you were too,” Momo explains, shifting slightly to torment me.

“I did?” I manage.

She laughs. Minx.

I grip her hips and start to thrust. I take us both to heaven. And then do it two more times before I let her fall to sleep. I wish I’d kept a condom aside, to wake her up with. But I’ll take what I can get from this extraordinary woman.

For as long as she lets me.

Which, I’m thinking, might just be tonight.

Because when I was out in the hallway, searching my pockets for condoms, I found the note Mr Fujiwara handed Momoko in the sake restaurant. It was just there, beside her dress, so I couldn’t avoid it.

Honour your father, Momoko-san. Don’t be seen with other men out in public.

I wouldn’t be acceptable to her family - hell, I
know
I’m not acceptable to her brother - and I’m an absolute fucking chump. Because I still came back in the room, slipped the condom on, and took whatever she gave me.

Three times in as many hours.

I
lean back
in my office chair and stretch out my body. It’s thrumming. Which is no surprise, really. Genevieve always makes my body thrum.

“Sweetheart,” I say down the line, it might have been a purr, but I’ll deny it. “You know I love it when you get angry. But there’s nothing to be done about it.”

“It’s just,” she starts, and I settle in for the long haul. Genevieve, when she gets going, can talk for an hour. And I get the impression my lovely wife is about to get going. “I thought they’d want to have it here. At Sweet Seduction. We do everything at Sweet Seduction. It’s what it’s here for. All of us. You know that. They know that. Why are they being so difficult about this?”

“It is their baby shower, sweetheart,” I say softly. Carefully. Along with a propensity to talk non-stop, Genevieve can be quite emotional. Especially right now. “There will be others.”

“I know there’ll be others, Dom. But this is their first. And they’ve tried so hard to get pregnant. I just want to make it special for them. And Sweet Seduction is the epitome of special. Why wouldn’t they want to have it here?”

“Maybe because they want to keep it small. They are very private people.”

“You mean they hide in the shadows all day and very rarely come out to play? I call bullshit on that.” She’s getting riled. It’s not good if she gets riled. Not
that
kind of riled anyway.

“Genevieve,” I say, and I put a little force behind her name. Just a little. Not too much. But I know exactly how hard I can push her. How hard she needs me to push her.

She responds immediately.

“Yes?”

My cock goes rock hard.

“It’s Ben and Abi,” I say. “You love them.”

“I do.” She loves everyone. That’s why she feels everything so keenly.

“Make it special for them,” I say.

“But that’s why I want them to have it here,” she argues.

I shake my head, even though she can’t see it. “Sweetheart. They don’t have to have it at Sweet Seduction to make it special. They can have it at a McDonalds and it would be special.” She scoffs. “As long as we’re there to celebrate with them. As long as you’re there to help Abi. Sweet Seduction is our home, our haven. But it’s not just a building.”

“It’s not?”

“No,” I whisper. “It’s the smiling face that greets them when they walk in the door. The effervescent atmosphere when you banter with Kelly or Lucas. It’s your eyes that light up when they walk inside. It’s the music. The people. The conversations. And, dare I say it, the chocolate and coffee. None of which are glued to that building’s floor. If Ben and Abi want to celebrate this wonderful milestone in their lives at their own home, then take Sweet Seduction to them.”

“Oh,” she says. And then she starts crying. I grimace. Waiting to see if this is a geyser moment or a small fountain. “That’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard,” she says through happy tears.

I smile.

“Feel better?” I murmur.

“Yes.”

“I love you,” I add.

“I love you too.”

“Now,” I say. “Are you alone in your office?”

“Ah, yes.”

“The door’s closed?”

“Dominic!” she exclaims.

“I can’t get away to see you, right now, sweetheart. Work is killing me. But I do have a few moments to make sure my very sexy wife is more than just happy.”

“You do? And what did you have in mind, Mr Anscombe?”

“Well, Mrs Anscombe,” I say, and my voice has lowered several octaves. “I thought I might tell you just what I intend to do to you tonight.”

“The kids…” she starts.

“Will be in bed by nine. By nine-thirty I’ll have a bath run for you. I’ll guide you into our ensuite and strip you down slowly. Marvelling at how wonderful your body is. How beautiful you look when you stand before me.”

“Even now?” she asks archly.

“Especially now,” I say forcefully. “I’ll kneel down before you and kiss your belly, because I have to say hello before we go on. But I won’t linger. I can’t. You’re far more important than Squeak.”

“Squeak? Are we calling it Squeak now?”

“Or Smudge, you pick.”

“I think I’ll go with Squeak.”

“So, Squeak’s happy, but his or her mother needs to be happy too. And that’s where I come in.”

“I bet you do,” she says drily.

I try not to laugh, it ends up being a cough. Through my smile, I say, “I’ll run my hands all over your body, paying special attention to your lower back, the curve of your arse, the crease between your thighs.”

“Dominic,” she says in warning, and I know I’ve almost got her.

“Do you know what I love most about your arse?” I ask, but don’t pause long enough for her to answer. “It fits the palm of my hands perfectly. Much like your breasts. I’ll squeeze your cheeks, maybe pat them a little, smooth the sting out with a soft brush of my hands, while pressing you up against my chest, making your nipples throb with the contact.”

“Dom,” she whispers.

“Are you touching them now, sweetheart?”

“Maybe?” she says, uncertainly.

My smile broadens as my cock stiffens further. I run my hand down the front of my trousers.

“While I’m playing with your arse, I’ll pull back and kiss the side of your breast. Underneath, where you’re really sensitive. I’ll lick my way over the curve and around a nipple. I’ll tease you for a bit, while my hands spread your cheeks below and a finger runs through your crease.”

She moans. I can picture her in her office. She’s probably shifted to the sofa in the corner and lying down. One hand on the cell phone to her ear, the other alternating between her sensitive breasts and her hot little pussy. Rubbing through her black pants. She’ll be wet.

“Undo your trousers,” I say. “Tell me when you’ve done it.”

“Dom,” she says.

“Sweetheart, it’s just you and me. The door’s closed and I’m horny. I want you. I want to lick your pussy, feast on your cunt. I want to slip two fingers inside and make you moan.”

She does moan then. It’s loud down the phone line. “Are your pants undone?” I ask, rubbing my hand over my crotch.

“Yes,” she whispers.

“Slip your fingers inside and tell me what you find.”

“I’m wet,” she murmurs, almost too low for me to hear.

“And horny,” I add.

“So horny.” She’s always horny when she’s pregnant. Hell, she’s always horny when she’s not, but when she’s pregnant, I can usually persuade her to do naughty things at inappropriate times.

I undo my belt buckle and pull the zip down on my trousers. I can hear her breathing heavily. My cock springs out at the sound of my wife getting off on my voice.

“I’ll move on from your breasts, licking and kissing and nibbling over your stomach,” I say, stroking a hand up and down my aching dick. “I’ll kneel down before you, worshipping your body, and spread your folds.”

“What then?” she whispers, it’s almost a beg.

“I’ll have to stroke myself while I take a look at your perfection.”

“Are you stroking yourself now?”

“Hell yes, sweetheart. I’m imagining your sweet pussy weeping for me, begging for my tongue.”

“Yes.”

“I’ll blow against your clit. It’ll be hot. Throbbing.”

“Yes.”

“My mouth will be watering. I so want to taste you, Genevieve. Can I taste you?”

“Yes. Oh, Yes!”

I squeeze my cock at the base hard, delaying my release. Maybe Gen isn’t the only one extra horny when she’s pregnant. My wife is beautiful but when she’s pregnant, she’s irresistible.

“I can’t wait any longer,” I say in a rough voice. “I have to lean in and bury my nose in your curls. Rub my face all over your pussy. Inhale you.”

“Please,” she moans.

“Are your fingers busy, Genevieve?”

“Yes.”

“On your clit, or inside your pussy?”

“Both.”

“How many?”

“Two.”

“Make it three.”

She only moans.

“I’ll lay my tongue flat on your centre,” I say, stroking faster, rubbing a thumb across the tip of my cock. Pre-come smears across the broad head and I glance down, imagining Genevieve watching me now. “I’m so turned on,” I say in a guttural voice.

“Me too. Me too.”

She’s close. I’m close. Christ! I wish I was in her office instead of mine.

“You’ll taste divine,” I rasp. “Nectar from the gods. And I’ll shudder.” I shudder now. So close.

“Dom,” she begs.

“Soon, sweetheart. Thrust your fingers inside and rub a thumb over your clit and imagine it’s me, my tongue circling the little nub, teasing it, licking it, and then sucking it deep between my lips, pulling hard.”

She comes. I hear her startled cry of release, my name a soft whisper on her tongue, and I’m lost. Like I’ve been lost to this woman the moment I saw her outside the lift in my lobby. The moment she looked at me, cheeks flushed pink, and then spoke nonsensical words about coffee.

“Christ!” I say as I climax. “Genevieve,” I add, as I stroke myself to completion. “Christ,” I add, as I come down, my breaths harsh, hers just as loud down the phone.

For a moment we both say nothing, just float in the bubble that is us.

“So,” I finally manage, once my heart rate is more regular. ‘That’s the plan for tonight. Sound good?”

She giggles. “Dominic,” she says in mock-chastisement.

“I think we should have four more children after this one,” I add, grabbing some tissues off my desk and cleaning myself up. I get up and head toward the attached bathroom, my cell phone connected by Bluetooth to my earbud, making it easy to wash my hands and straighten up.

“Four?” She sounds surprised.

“Yes, four. That should take us through the next decade, and then I’ll have to think of something else.”

“Something else?”

“To keep you horny,” I explain, towelling my hands dry. I stare at myself in the mirror. The face of an inordinately happy man stares back. I smile.

“I’ll always be horny for you,” Genevieve whispers and my heart expands even more, if at all possible.

“I love you, sweetheart,” I murmur.

“I love you too, Dom,” she whispers back, sounding happy. And relaxed. And beautiful.

“Tonight,” I promise.

“Tonight,” she says.

A knock sounds on my door as I step out of the bathroom.

“I can’t wait,” I add, pressing a button on the earpiece to close the line as Finn walks into the room.

Close call. But I’m sure he’s had phone-sex before, so I just grin.