“Really?” Nell said. Her panties were a whisper-thin barrier between the scorching heat and hardness of his erection. “And?”
“And I told her to go for it.” He sounded astonished at himself.
Nell was startled into lucidity. “Just like that?”
“There I was, rose petals all over me. I couldn’t bring her down.”
Nell’s heart swelled. She cradled his face in her hands and kissed him. “Congratulations,” she whispered. “You did a great thing.”
He cupped his hand behind her head and deepened the kiss.
Her long sweater skirt was rucked up high on her thighs, over the same beige gartered stockings she’d worn the day before, and his erection pressed against the gusset of her panties, behind which was a melting, throbbing ache of rising desire. She pulled away, gasping for breath. “I’m going to give you a great big wet spot,” she warned him.
“Only one thing to do about that.” He lifted her up so she stood on her feet, cupping her bottom so she couldn’t wiggle away. He wrenched his belt loose and his pants open. His cock sprang up, empurpled and huge. He slid his finger inside the crotch of her panties and into that hot, liquid well, swirling and stroking. A tug against her hip, fabric ripped, and he pulled her back down, fitting her over himself.
Forcing the thick club of his penis slowly, insistently inside her.
She braced herself against his chest. “Hey! Hold on! I spoiled you this morning, but don’t you dare start to think you can play dangerous games with me without protection whenever you feel like it!”
He slid relentlessly deeper. “I always feel like it with you.”
“You’re not the one who pays the price if there is a mishap!”
He stopped moving, and cupped her cheek, stared into her eyes with fierce intensity. “That’s not true. I always take responsibility for what I do. I would never bail out on you, Nell.”
Um. Nice sentiment, but Nell wasn’t precisely sure of its practical applications, and she was afraid to ask. And her body was betraying her. She could barely speak, swaying on top of him, quivering around his cock, squeezing him convulsively inside herself. She coordinated her shaky voice. “How do you take responsibility for an irresponsible thing? It’s contradictory!”
His fingers bit into her hips, dragging her against him. “That’s way too deep for a guy like me,” he said. “Especially when all the blood in my body’s been diverted to my dick.”
“That’s a cheap excuse,” she shot back, writhing helplessly.
“Just doing what I can,” he said. “Your waitress friend told me I could make up for my intellectual shortcomings by being good in bed.”
Her eyes popped open. “She didn’t!”
“She did,” Duncan said solemnly.
“Oh, my God.” She covered her face with her hands, and began to laugh. “I can’t believe them. I just can’t believe it.”
“I have to admit, I found it kind of comforting,” he mused. “I figured, maybe there’s hope, you know? Even for a meathead like me.”
“Oh, you just shut up!”
“Good thing you like ’em big and stupid, right?”
She swatted at him. “Stop it! You’re making it worse!”
“Oh, no. Not worse. Better,” he said. “I won’t stop. It feels fucking amazing. Those little fluttery clenches around my dick, every time you laugh. Laugh all you want. I’ll keep you laughing as long as I can.”
She pressed her hand to his mouth, chest hitching, eyes watering with shaky giggles. “Shhh. Really. Please, Duncan, damn it. I’m serious. Stop.”
“Fuck, no.” He pulled her hand down, grinning. “So this guy walks into this bar—”
“Shhh!” She stared into his eyes. “Just don’t get me pregnant,” she said. “Do. Not. Get it? I’ve got enough to feel scared about right now. Is that clear?”
He nodded, and kissed her palm. “I won’t come inside you,” he promised. “I won’t even move. I’ll sit like a statue. Your personal life-sized sex toy. You just squeeze me, ride me, do whatever you want with me until you come. Sound good?”
Oh, boy, did it ever. So good, it stole her breath, her voice.
She did as he offered, squeezing him inside her until her lower body flushed with pleasure, shaking with firecracker jolts.
He kept his promise, though she could tell that it cost him. It took a while to get there, with him so motionless. He trembled, holding her arms in a tight grip, staring at her face as she writhed and whimpered, too lost to pleasure to be self-conscious. It was a long, slow climb, but the outcome was inevitable. He caught her as she arched back and launched into free fall, his growl of satisfaction vibrating through her.
She collapsed over his shoulder, breathless and limp. Blushing and damp with sweat as the aftershocks rippled through her. She could feel his heartbeat in his cockhead, throbbing against her womb, he was wedged so deep inside her. A deep, steady, pulsing rhythm. So close.
She lifted her head and was startled by the look on his face. It was no longer that taut, tense mask of self-control that he’d worn while she was pleasuring herself with his body. It was soft. Almost wistful.
“What are you thinking?” she asked him.
He touched her eyebrow, then her cheekbone, then her lips. “I was just wondering what a baby of ours might look like.”
The feeling that pierced her was indefinable. Joy, terror, fury. That bastard. How dare he. Playing with her emotions.
“You bastard. Don’t say crazy things like that to me,” she forced out, through shaking lips. “It’s not fair. It’s…irresponsible.”
He shrugged. “You asked.”
So she had. Her hands shook. They stared at each other. Both fully clothed, but she had never felt so naked.
She untangled her legs from his, set her feet on the ground, and lifted herself up. They sucked in air in unison at the sweet slide, the delicious friction as his cock caressed her sensitized inner flesh. The cold air that hit them when they were separated.
She stared down at his cock. It stood high and hopeful against his belly. Rigid, pulsing. Gleaming with her own juices.
She had no intention of sinking to her knees. It just happened. She grabbed his thick, pulsing handle, stroking smooth, hot skin, and licked him, tasting herself. It was a classic thousand-dollar-an-hour call-girl scenario. Riding the boss on his swivel chair in the high-rise corner office. On her knees under the desk giving him a blow job. It looked sordid, squalid. Even pornographic, from the outside.
But she wasn’t on the outside. She was so far inside, she was in a new universe, where the rules had changed. She herself was different. Softer, more joyful, more sensual. Fearless. And shameless. Just this desperate desire to give to him flowing out of her, from her chest, her face, her throat, her crotch. All aglow.
Of course. She was miles in love with him.
She let that thought slide away. She didn’t dare examine it, and besides, it took all her concentration to fellate a man as ridiculously well endowed as Duncan Burke. He was hung like the proverbial horse, and she was far from expert. But oh, so motivated.
She petted and stroked, swirled with her tongue around his cockhead, and tried to draw him deeper. Loving the sounds, the shaking grip of his hands in her hair, the shudders that went through him. She was just getting the hang of it and starting to hit her stride when his fingers tightened, and he let out a choked, desperate shout.
His come spurted into her mouth in hard, rhythmic jets.
She got to her feet after a few silent, shaking minutes, holding on to the desk for balance. She wiped her mouth, too shy to look at him.
He grabbed her and dragged her over between his legs, hugged her tightly around the waist, hid his face against her breasts.
Her chest melted, her shyness evaporated, leaving only tenderness. He felt vulnerable, too. And somehow, that made it okay.
They swayed in that clinch for a long time. Finally he looked up. “There’s a private en suite bathroom with a shower, off my office.”