His Sweetest Sin

The vibrator is gone and I sob at the loss until I feel the heat of Chris pushing inside me and I sob for a new reason. Too big, no, he’s too big, only my body is weak from the repeated edge toward an orgasm so it doesn’t fight him. Instead it welcomes him, clinging to him as he moves in slowly, then out with every new inch he pushes inside me. Again and again he works his way in until he’s deep inside me. When he stops I moan at how good he feels, my body clutching him from deep inside. Chris growls at the sensation, then he starts to move. Deep, powerful thrusts inside and out again, more, harder, faster, so close, please. I slide hard into my orgasm as it breaks me apart, into a million pieces. I’m floating freely as I feel Chris continue to move inside me, then he thrusts in hard with a groan of my name. His come, hot, wet and electric, slides up my spine. It’s too much, and the world goes black.

19

Amelia

It’s my last day. Seven years. It doesn’t sound like a long time, but it felt like it. I’m supposed to go to a conference that is very clearly a going-away party in less than twenty minutes. I don’t want to. I feel like a fraud, as if I’m judging everyone else. Now I’m supposed to go in and smile and eat cake, and how many times can I say I have no plans?

At least when women left to have a family they were doing something. Everyone seemed to think that was my plan, that any day I’ll be announcing I’m pregnant. I wish. I’m dreaming on a nightly basis of babies, and once I wake up it feels so real the sense of loss tugs hard at me, until Chris kisses me. The promise in his kiss tells me soon.

As if I’ve conjured him up, Chris is closing the door to my office with a devilish smile. “Hey, sugar, you looked down this morning. I came by to cheer you up. Pants down, ass up, bend over your desk.”

I don’t hesitate. He’s so dirty, this is so wrong, people have been in and out of my office all day long. As I lay my head on the desk I whisper, “Please at least tell me Mary knows to keep people out of here.”

“She might be aware you are in a very private conference. So wet for me, such a good girl you are. Today, we’re going to try a quickie. Let’s see how fast I can make you come twice.”

The sound of his zipper is loud in the room. His fingers push inside me and head right to my clit. Holy fuck, I’m coming in two minutes according to the clock on the corner of my desk. Fifteen minutes, I have fifteen minutes until I—oh god, yes. Chris thrusts into me hard, each thrust harder, deeper, better than the last. I forget the clock, I forget the hard wood under my body; all that matters is Chris’s cock thundering inside me. Biting my hand, I fight to contain my scream as I come. Chris growls as he comes with me, hot spurts that coat me deep inside. Slowly, he moves, easing down from his climax. When he pulls out I moan at the loss of him.

“Hmm...mission accomplished. It wasn’t quite under five minutes but we have time to work on that.”

“No way, sugar, this was just to cheer you up. Since your beautiful smile is back on show we won’t be doing this again. Quickies have their place, just not when it comes to me making love to you.” He kisses my neck softly then goes down to his knees to pull up my pants.

Did he really say, ‘making love’? Did he mean it? I’m smiling for a whole new reason now.

***

Chris

Watching Amelia work the room, I can’t keep the smile off my face. She’s so beautiful, she’s glowing. After a few men got too damn close to her, trying to hug her and kiss and shit, I had to correct them. Now I can finally give her a little room. She’s laughing as she talks with her hands.

“You can take her home after this. She’s tied up everything she needed to. I’m also surprised her clothes haven’t come off her by your sheer will alone.” Karen is smiling up at me.

“I’ll be happy to.”

“I knew the minute I saw you two together there was something special. You need a little good and she needs a little bad, but don’t forget labels don’t tell the whole story. Amelia knows you aren’t defined by the bad boy label. Do you?” Before I can answer, she’s gone.

Of course I know that, but I’m not always sure Amelia does. Does she know it? I watch as Ethan enters the conference room. He looks tense, but when he smiles as he kisses Amelia’s cheek he hides it well. Our eyes meet, and he nods, then with another kiss to Amelia’s cheek he’s gone again.

Amelia makes her way to me. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, client call. He asked me to tell Holly he’s going to be a little late tonight.”

We head straight to Ethan and Holly’s place after we finally get out of the conference room. Holly is exactly what I thought she would be. Bossy, funny, pretty with curves, confident, and it’s clear she cares about Amelia. I like her instantly.

Once Ethan is home we leave Holly and Amelia in the kitchen while he shows me his office. I’m not surprised by what comes next.

“As her brother, I have to tell you if you hurt her I’ll break your pretty face. As a guy, I can’t judge you when my past before Holly wasn’t much better. It’s obvious you care about my sister. I trust her judgement in all things but men. It’s Mary who vouched for you, her I trust when it comes to men. Let’s eat. I’m starving.”

Just like that, the night was easier on everyone.

***

Chris

Waking up, the glow lasts until we’re done with breakfast when Amelia’s phone goes off with a text from Ethan. It’s a link to a news story from the night we went to the strip club. Someone sold the story of what went down in the back when Amelia was with the strippers. I frown at the thought of her thinking she felt she had to learn something from the women. The story mocks Amelia for her weight and good girl image, how she was trying to be a bad girl to keep me. Well, there goes leaving the house and her happy glow. Damn it, is she crying?

I look up. Her hand is covering her mouth and she’s laughing. It’s the moment in the conference room all over again. She’s laughing so hard she’s crying. “I’m a bad girl now. A ‘hefty’”—she uses air quotes—“femme fatale who managed to win the baddest boy in baseball.” She rolls her eyes. “How do they keep doing this? For ten years you’ve been the bad boy. You aren’t a boy anymore, and you’re so much more than a bad boy. Whatever, at least this means I’m no longer a good girl. Come on, slowpoke, I’m in the mood to hit the bookstore. I’ll put on my comfiest shoes.”

The storm I was expecting, isn’t even a sprinkle. I follow her upstairs, first we need to christen my walk-in closet.