The back-sass is cute, but he’s out of his league. I remind him of as much with a hard, fast pump of my fist as I kiss him again. He moans so hard against my lips that I can feel the vibrations all up and down my spine.
That’s right. I’m going to reduce this cocky, sexy man to a whimpering, cum-emptied mess. He might have the upper hand in terms of status and money, but with his big, heavy man meat in my expert hand? He’s no different than any other dick I’ve conquered and claimed.
That is, until, he bites down on my lower lip and twists the rosy little nubs of my nipples so hard, I nearly come right then and there.
Oh god. He is Mr. Big.
Memories of that night just three days ago come whirling at me like a hurricane. I still can’t believe how wet he could make me with nothing more than a few words on a computer screen. I’ve been trying to wrap my head around it ever since, but no dice.
Guys message me dirty shit all the time, and it doesn’t do anything more for me than stroke my ego. If it was anyone else, I would have assumed I just got off on how much money the pervy bastard was willing to throw at me.
But that’s not it at all.
He knows it. I know it.
It’s not the money.
It’s him.
We fucking lose ourselves. I’m lapping at his tongue like an animal, our lips locked in passion. He’s doing something to my nipples with his thumbs that sends throbs of red-hot pleasure all the way down my body, directly to my clit.
My pussy is already clenching in anticipation as I stroke his cock, eager to swallow that bad boy up and squeeze the cum out of his balls until he’s totally dry—
“Wait,” I hiss against his lips.
“Why?” he growls back, kissing me even harder.
I squeeze his cock a little too hard—or maybe just hard enough—and that gets his attention.
“What’s wrong?”
I pull away, listening for footsteps. Voices. Catherine the Great, poking her nose around and wondering wherever our charming possible-future-benefactor might be.
“The other Babes,” I say. “Catherine. They’ll notice that we’re missing.”
“Ah,” Darcy says, idly rubbing my nipples between his fingers. It’s all I can do not to moan. “We might get caught.”
“Exactly,” I say. He keeps rubbing, which is so fucking distracting, I can barely stand it.
“And I don’t need—oh God, that’s really good—I don’t need the other girls walking in and seeing—”
“Their ice queen co-worker playing whore to the man who’s about to own their business?”
“More like seeing me fucking around on our business deal. Might give them the wrong idea.”
“Oh?” Darcy dips his mouth down to my earlobe. His teeth nip at his as he speaks.
“And what idea might that be?”
“That I’m trying to—fuck, that feels amazing—stiff them on this—oh my God, right there—trying to get a better deal for—mmmmmm—myself…”
“Then I’ll set them straight.”
Darcy continues to kiss and lick at my ear and neck, and I realize I have to switch tactics. Even the sound his lips make when he kisses me is a fucking eargasm.
Every time his mouth finds my skin, it makes my argument seem less and less relevant. If I don’t stop this soon, I’m going to lose my resolve altogether.
“What if Wickham walks in?”