SIR

by R. J. Lewis

  He adds more pressure, slipping inside me more, and I can’t—I can’t fucking express how hot it makes me. It sends me flying over the edge. I come hard, muscles spasming around his cock as he continues to fuck me hard and fast.

  He doesn’t let up. He doesn’t even pause. He’s a machine, using my body like a ragdoll as he unleashes all his pent-up fury into me. He sinks deep with every stroke, his breaths are hard and heavy, and he’s groaning aloud. He’s never been so loud before. I shut my eyes, bracing myself as he continues to move, jerking me back and forth. Sparks continue to explode through me. I’m so wet, my body welcomes him in without reservation. He fits inside me so tightly, so wholly. I push back just as fast as he pushes out of me, and he grips my ass tightly in response. He’s going to leave bruises behind as his fingertips painfully hold me in place.

  He growls deep in his throat, his cock growing thicker, impossibly harder. Then he suddenly pulls out of me. His hand is in my hair. He pushes me down on my knees before him and jerks himself quickly, staring down at me with wild, heated eyes, his chest moving rapidly.

  “Open that naughty mouth,” he grunts.

  I do, and he pushes his cock between my lips and moves in and out once, and then twice, and then he stills, groaning deep in his throat as he comes hard in my mouth.

  “Swallow,” he orders, pulling his cock out just as more of his come oozes out of him. He rubs it along my cheek, marking me as he stares down at me with unfocused eyes. I swallow quickly, staring back up at him, my face burning and damp.

  The tension immediately leaves his shoulders. They drop and he steps back, letting go of my hair. Still panting, he slips his cock back into his briefs and buckles his pants back up. He’s not even staring at me as he returns to his desk and collapses into it. His face is clear, all those tension lines are gone as he groans quietly, his head tilted up, eyes drawn to the ceiling.

  “Fuck yeah, Miss Montcalm,” he utters in a low voice. “You’re useful in the office after all, temptress.”

  The nickname makes me tense with indescribable emotion. Pain and sadness swirl inside me, but also another feeling. Fucking hope.

  I stand up on shaky legs and grab some tissues off the desk. Aidan watches me intently, and just as I’m about to wipe my face, he grabs my hand and pulls me to him. I stumble to him.

  “Bend down,” he tells me.

  I bend down to his level as he takes the tissues from my hand. Before he wipes away his mess, a cocky smile spreads along his lips as he smears his come from my cheek to my mouth.

  “Suck my finger,” he orders.

  My skin heats as I trail my tongue along his finger, and he watches me intently, his eyes growing heavy.

  “You are so fucking naughty, Ivy Montcalm,” he declares. “Do you like what I taste like?”

  I nod, staring down at his lips. “I do.”

  “You want more of my come down that throat?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He makes a deep grunting sound. When he’s satisfied, he wipes my face with lazy strokes, that heavy expression still wrought with lust. It seems like I’ve only taken the edge off him.

  I fix my skirt and shirt and collapse into my chair next to him and wince. There’s an ache between my legs, the kind of ache you get when you’ve been thoroughly used.

  We’re quiet for a moment, still catching our breaths. Eyes flicker to eyes. I swallow nervously, he smiles arrogantly. He looks so imperious, like that master I used to joke he was when he demanded pleasure and servitude. Some things never change.

  The room is still a giant mess. His papers and things are on the floor around the desk. The smell of us is in the air. My hair must look offensive, my face has that just fucked look. Don’t get me started on Aidan, too. He’s literally kicking back, not a fuck given, his eyes casually moving to mine. He looks at me like he wants to fuck me all over again.

  Waving his hand once, he calls out. “In you come, Mr Abir.”

  The door opens a moment later and Abir steps through, his eyes huge, his mouth drawn down. He looks like he was part of the fucking, too, except he didn’t get to have all the fun. My cheeks burn as he glances at me knowingly.

  Aidan has his hands clasped together over his chest. He kicks his feet up on the desk and stares at Abir like he’s Constantine the Great with that arrogant face and smug lips pressed together.

  “Where were we, Mr Abir?” he asks, voice bored now as he stares at Abir.

  Mr Abir shits bricks, and I’m looking at Aidan, already tingling for another touch.

  Twenty-Eight

  Ivy

  Abir leaves after his pitch, looking hopeful. He seemed to relax around Aidan because Aidan was still in that haze of coming down from his strong orgasm. The second the door shuts behind him, I glance at him.

  “Are you considering him?” I ask curiously. It’s the first time I’ve spoken since we fucked. I couldn’t seem to operate my mouth through Abir’s pitch. Now I’m feeling a little calmer.

  Aidan’s still kicking back, not a care in the world on his shoulders. He spins the chair a little bit in my direction. “He’s in too much debt with the bank, something he was very vague on disclosing, and his patent is only pending.” I frown, and he notices. “What’s on your mind?”

  “I just…he was so hopeful.”

  “You’re a softie.”

  “He’ll be crushed.”

  “He’ll be fine.”

  “I don’t know how you can just say no after a pitch like that.”

  “I’m used to it.”

  My heart tugs for Abir. “If he gets that patent across the line, his product might be huge. So, it might be something to consider, right?”

  Aidan simply hums thoughtfully in response. He has other things on his mind, and I know what they are when his eyes begin to dance along my body.

  The room fills with silence.

  Still nervous, I get up and start to clean up the mess. To my surprise, Aidan gets up and helps. We say nothing for a few minutes, gathering the loose papers off the floor. I’m entirely aware of his presence, of his body heat close to mine.

  I gather the papers in a neat pile, aware as ever that Aidan has stopped moving beside me and is watching me. When I finish arranging his desk, I turn to him, wordless. What is there to discuss after our tryst? Unlike me, Aidan looks like he wants to say something. His mouth parts, and for a fleeting moment, his arrogance is all gone. I wait, holding my breath as he runs his tongue along his bottom lip, looking thoughtful.

  “I think,” he says softly, his voice hardly above a whisper, “I think, Miss Montcalm, we have nothing else on the agenda today.”

  “We’re finished?”

  “For the day,” he reiterates.

  I nod carefully, not meeting his eye. “Okay, Mr West. I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

  I move to leave when his arm reaches out in front of me, stopping me. He peers down at me with those sensuous dark eyes. I look up at him, confused as a small smile curves along his lips.

  “I think,” he says smoothly, “we have the day to ourselves, Miss Montcalm.”

  I keep staring, eyes widening now. “A day to ourselves or with each other, Mr West?”

  “What do you want?”

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  He appears amused. “We have the day with each other…if that’s what you want.”

  I take a deep breath, my brain strangely quiet as he peers at me, waiting. “You mean you want to fuck me, Mr West?”

  His smile grows. “Yes, Ivy, I want to fuck you today, keep fucking you, too, because my cock really likes to be inside you.”

  “And you?” I press, watching him closely.

  He looks me over, his desire palpable. “I very much like being inside you, Ivy.”

  I nod slowly, taking quiet breaths. I’m still waiting for my mind to fire off on me, but it’s not. It’s still sitting dormant in my head, and this is a problem. My mind is leaving it up to my body, and my b
ody is already warming under Aidan West’s intense gaze.

  I clear my throat, trying to compose myself as I say, “My schedule is pretty clear, Mr West, so…I am free to fuck the day away with you.”

  Aidan chuckles, looking ridiculously sexy now as he nods in return. “I’m very glad your schedule is clear—”

  “Well, you just cleared it cutting work short—”

  “That’s right—”

  “Lead me to your bedroom.”

  He doesn’t skip a beat. He strides out of the room quickly and I follow. I’m shaking from excitement as my eyes trail his from ahead of me. Like him, I’m pulsing with lust.

  He opens his bedroom door and turns to me, waiting for me to come. I do. He slams the door shut. He barely turns to me when he starts to throw his clothes off. He tosses his suit jacket on the floor and then pulls at his tie.

  “Take your clothes off, Ivy,” he tells me, his voice tight. “But leave the skirt on.”

  I’m already halfway there. I peel off my top and bra and slide my underwear off. I’m standing in the middle of his gigantic room in just my skirt and he’s already coming at me, naked and yearning. His mouth crashes against mine and his hands are pulling up my skirt and grabbing at my ass. He picks me up in one smooth move and carries me to his bed.

  His hands are everywhere, grabbing at handfuls of flesh and curves. He grips me like he can’t get enough of me, his mouth deeply entwined with mine. Like before, we move erratically. My skirt is still on when he spreads my legs apart and pushes into me. I suck a sharp breath, pulling away from his mouth as I grip his hips.

  “Fuck, you’re tight,” he whispers against my mouth.

  “Or you’re just big,” I say breathlessly.

  I feel his chest rumbling with laughter as he continues to fuck me. “Is it bad I can’t slow down, Ivy?”

  I lift my hips, welcoming the pleasure and the sting. “No.”

  I don’t want him to slow down, either. I just want him to push as far into me as humanly possible. I want to feel him in every part of me. I kiss him again, unable to hold back the surging emotions exploding out of me. I’ve kept them contained inside me for so long, too long, and I can’t do it anymore. My fingers dig into his skin as he moves over me, and for a few moments, it’s just his mouth on mine, his grunts pouring down my throat and the sounds of our bodies slapping together.

  It’s completely raw.

  No banter, no fooling around, just two of us chasing that feeling—that damn ecstasy I only want to come from his touch.

  My toes curl as I dig my heels into the mattress, coming apart beneath him. The orgasm hits strong and I shake through it. I’ve barely come down from it when he pulls out of me and brings his cock to my breasts. He comes over them, running his tip along my nipples as he grips himself. His shoulders are tensed, his chest is moving fast, and his tremors are bigger than mine.

  I stare up at him through bleary eyes, studying his face as he comes undone, wondering why he looks so surprised by the pleasure he feels.

  We catch our breaths, eyes trained on each other’s, and then he comes for me again.

  It’s like this all morning. He fucks me deeply, he pulls out noises I never thought I’d make. I call him sir, and he goes fucking wild.

  And then I just grip him to me; I grip him like he might vanish before me, and he senses that desperation. He lets me hold him, lets me take his head and rest it against my bare chest. I let him hear my raw heart beating for him—for us.

  Then he fucks me for the sake of being inside me.

  Until my stomach is empty and I’m hungry for more than just his flesh.

  “I need sustenance,” I finally groan.

  *

  We’re moving around the apartment, completely naked.

  He’s fired up some waffles in the toaster for me, and I’m grabbing at a wine bottle from the cupboard. I barely have the lid off when his arms wrap around me. He carries me to the living room, bends me over the couch and fucks me suddenly with my body bent over the arm of the couch.

  It’s quick and rough, his heavy breathing is loud in the room. I bury my head in the cushions, feeling every inch of him inside me. I feel the pulsing pleasure that follows, and I shudder through it as he comes hard, this time all over my back.

  I swear, he’s trying to coat me in his come. He doesn’t even wipe it off, either.

  I stand up unsteadily as he returns to the kitchen and plates the waffles. I take a swig straight out of the wine bottle, heart still hammering in my chest.

  We eat around the island, and I have to put up a hand as he approaches me in that predatory way.

  “Just give me a fucking minute,” I demand. “You should know better than to disturb a hungry woman eating waffles, Mr West.”

  He doesn’t smile or respond back.

  He just tenses his jaw and waits there, watching me eat every single bite. When I’m done, when I’m stuffed and my head is swimming from the wine I’ve guzzled, he raises his brows expectantly. “Are we ready—”

  “We’re ready,” I tell him.

  He picks me up and we retreat back to the bedroom, but not before he fucks me against the wall of the hallway, driving himself in and out of me like a crazed man. His thrusts are hurried, thorough and desperate. He buries his face in my neck, sucking at me as I tangle his hair between my fingers, eyes shut tight as he reduces me to this aching, pulsing mess.

  “Again,” he breathes heatedly against my skin after he’s come along my stomach. “Again.”

  What the fuck have I unleashed?

  *

  “It feels like my body is dying to be inside you,” he murmurs tiredly. “Like I’ve waited a very long time for this to happen.”

  I’m straddling him, rubbing him, feeling him harden beneath me. I look down at him, and he’s not staring at my breasts or my hips—he’s staring into my eyes, waiting for a response.

  “So have I,” I tell him. “Imagine remembering, Aidan, and not being able to do anything about it.”

  He settles a hand under his head, and I catch the way his bicep flexes at the action. My lower body warms, even as he looks imperiously up at me, demanding satisfaction.

  I rest my hands on his chest, and then I move.

  Aidan

  She moves at her own pace, her eyes shut, her hair falling all around her.

  My hands fall to her hips. I have to feel her motion, have to be part of the wave she’s creating. I feel myself deep inside her, and it’s not deep enough. I lean up, brushing my lips across her tits, wrapping an arm around her waist, fucking her with sudden quick thrusts because I can’t not.

  I’m ravenous, and she’s insatiable.

  Her tiny noises get me so hard.

  Her blue eyes are bottomless and bright—she is so fucking bright.

  And suddenly I want to remember her more than I want to breathe.

  I want to remember everything.

  Ivy

  Ana: I’ll be there in one week. I’ve looked up some delicious restaurants, and there’s a nice club we can crash if you’re up for it. Let me know. Also, what’s your address? I need to book a hotel asap closest to you.

  Aidan reads the message. It’s kind of hard not to because I’m lying on his chest, his arm is around me, his fingers are trailing my hip lightly, sending shivers through me. The phone is raised to my face in direct view of him.

  “Alex is coming, too,” he says then. “Warn her of what he can be like.”

  I let out a light laugh. “You don’t know what Ana can be like.”

  “Sounds like a match made in heaven.”

  I shake my head. “Ana isn’t looking for anything serious.”

  “Neither is Alex.”

  “I guess.” I bunch my lips to the side, thinking. “I haven’t heard from Alex. How do you know he’s coming?”

  “We spoke briefly when I was…thinking.”

  When he was pissy at me, he means. “Ah.”

  “Everything you sai
d was correct,” he continues, sounding thoughtful.

  “Did you think I was lying?”

  “No, but…sometimes you have to hear it from someone else.”

  Before I can respond, he slides out from under me and gets up. “Come,” he says. “Let’s shower.”

  I peer at him as he makes his way to the bathroom. He’s quieter than usual. I mean, it could be because we’ve fucked all day long and haven’t stopped. So, perhaps he’s tired but…no, his eyes are off. Like…he’s sad or something.

  I follow him into the shower. There’s no separate showerhead like there was in his other penthouse, so we take turns under it. I wash myself thoroughly, feeling sticky everywhere.

  “You missed a spot,” he murmurs, running the loofah between my shoulder blades.

  I let out a laugh. “What the fuck, Aidan?”

  He lets out a soft chuckle. “You had no issues with me shooting my load there—”

  “Don’t make it sound sexy or anything.”

  “When I…” he pauses, thinking, “thrust and oozed the outcome of my passion for your sexy, insatiable body. Better?”

  I spin around, water flowing down my face as I look up at him with a silly smile. “That’s…even worse.”

  He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I can be a poet, Ivy.”

  “Whatever makes you sleep at night.”

  “My cock buried inside you.” He drops his head and runs his mouth along mine. His hands run down my body, grabbing at my ass. He tugs me closer to him, until I’m out of the spray and against his solid body. We kiss deeply, thoroughly. Heat warms between my legs, and my body trembles as desire runs through me.

  His hand slides up my body, cupping my breast. He cuts the kiss short and drops his head there, sucking at my nipple. I arch into his touch, fingers back in his hair. He gives my other breast the same attention, swirling his tongue along my nipple, sending bolts of pleasure down my body.

  Then he drops to his knees and lifts a leg over his shoulder. I’m shivering by the time his mouth is between my legs, lapping at my folds. He pushes me back, until my back is pressed against the cold tiled wall. I buckle at the pleasure he builds slowly, driving me to the point of insanity.