Dahlia's Kiss

4

ONE MUST WORK

“Dahlia, come to my office, please.”Mr. Sullivan stood in his doorway. His tie was pulled loose at his throat, the sleeves of his button-down shirt rolled mid-way up his forearms. All the women in the office wanted a piece of the hot-shot lawyer. As the firm’s resident most-eligible bachelor, he was out with a different woman every weekend, but it was never anyone from work. He wasn’t interested in shitting where he ate. Unless it involved me.

I brushed past him and felt the air move as he closed the door and locked it.

“By my estimation, we have about fifteen minutes before someone knocks.” He’d already unfastened his belt and slipped the pants low on his hips. He wore nothing under them, and his very short thatch of blond hair glistened in the low light.

I knew what he tasted like. His cum always had an aftertaste of citrus. Drake Sullivan was a fitness nut when he wasn’t running a successful law firm, and part of his regime was eating a grapefruit for breakfast every morning. I couldn't say I disapproved. His body was exquisite, chiseled in all the right places. The buttons on his shirt popped free, and the sides of the garment fell open, exposing his flesh.

“And what makes you think I want to do this today?” I pursed my lips at him, leaning against his desk demurely. “Did I give you some reason to believe I’m a loose woman, Mr. Sullivan?”

I heard him growl as he approached me. “You’re far from loose, Ms. Brooks. In fact, I’ve never put my cock in a tighter woman. I don’t know how you manage it. I know you’re well serviced.”

“Are you saying I’m a whore?” His mouth was very close to mine. His breath teased my lips.

“I’m saying you’re a woman who knows her way around a cock.” He grabbed a hold of my throat, pulling me toward him. I was well-fed, and I didn’t need the sex, but he was hard to turn down. Drake was one of the few mortals who fully met my needs every single time. His cock was a girthy ten inches long with a base I couldn’t wrap my hand around. It had a slight bend in the shaft, which meant he hit my g-spot with regularity.

I ran my hands down his chest and found his organ. “I have no idea what you mean.”

“Oh, yeah? I believe you’re lying to me,” he whispered, thrusting his hips, pushing his dick through my clenched fist. “Do you know what I do when a woman like you lies to me?”

I looked up at him through my lashes, trying to look as innocent as could be. “What do you do to them?”

Drake grabbed my hips, turned me, and bent me over the desk. His palm found my ass in a series of hard spanks that left my cheeks hot and sore. My bottom jumped each time he contacted my body. “This dress is in the way.” Grabbing hold of my skirt, he pulled it up and exposed my naked ass. His hand cupped my wet pussy for a second before he spanked me again. I could only imagine the print his hand left behind.

“Do you feel thoroughly punished?” he asked, massaging the tender flesh roughly. “Or do you require more?”

Reaching forward, I gripped the edges of the desk to brace myself. “I’ve been very bad, and I require a fucking. Fill me with your cock, Mr. Sullivan. Make it hurt.”

He didn’t need to be told twice.

I was filled to the point of stretching, the head of his cock bruising me. Each thrust slammed me into the desk, and I bit my lip to keep from crying out. It wouldn’t do for the rest of the staff to hear what we were doing. His body urged me closer to the breaking point. His hands found my breasts, digging his fingers into my flesh, bringing pain with my pleasure.

We couldn’t take our time. Already, we were playing with fire to take this moment.

“Cum for me,” I coaxed. “Let me feel you explode deep inside of me.” I closed my eyes and opened my senses, prepared to feed off his orgasm. When it hit, it was intense. His hips froze. He held his breath, and his cock slammed into me one last time. I drank his release as my skin burned from the hard hitting. His seed spilled out from around his shaft, coating my thighs in a sticky, glorious mess.

He pulled out of me abruptly, leaving me feeling empty.

“Turn over and spread your legs,” he growled.

He was already cleaned and put away as I turned and planted my ass on his desk. My heels propped on the edge; my knees high, pussy exposed. I knew his cream pie oozed out of me, evidence of our secret act. “Give me something to clean this up.”

Drake dropped to his knees and looped his arms around my legs. “I have something right here.” His tongue started at my asshole and lapped upward until he circled my clitoris. I squirmed under his touch, wanted to press myself against his lips, and pull away simultaneously. He locked his mouth around my opening and sucked, pulling his semen out of me and swallowing it hungrily. It was too much. I went over the edge again, the walls of my vagina pulsating against his tongue.

“Delicious,” he crooned.

“You like the taste of yourself?” I asked.