by Maya Rose
When she doesn’t see Xavier, she asks me, confused, “Where’s--”
Inserting my fingers through her hair, I cup the back of her scalp and pull her into a hungry kiss. She kisses me back like she would much rather kiss me than breathe. On any other day, I could do this for hours. Feel the anticipation build as our tongues clash, dance, and make love. But today, I need to be inside her in the next five minutes or I’m not going to last. Lesson learned. No matter how busy we are, we gotta make time for fucking.
“On the hood or inside?” I pose the question to her, pulling her skirt and panties down, overcome at how oddly romantic this is. Fucking my girlfriend in the garage.
“Inside.” She replies breathlessly, getting with the program quickly, unbuttoning my jeans. I don’t wear layers of extraneous clothes anymore unless we have meetings that require it. Mostly it’s just a shirt or T-shirt, and jeans. Sometimes a blazer. She straightens and licks her lips when she’s dragged my lower clothes down and off. “69. I want your mouth.” She tells me.
Fuck, yes, and I want hers. I take our T-shirts off before opening the door of the Panamera. Getting inside the back seat, I lie flat on my back. It isn’t the most ideal of places and will take some maneuvering for what she has in mind, but we thrive under pressure. My hand wraps around the base of my cock, and I start to pump it, her eyes fixed on the precum that the tip is leaking. “Come sit on my face, baby girl.”
She gets rid of her bra and frees her curvaceous tits. Then ducks her head to avoid touching the roof of the car as she joins me inside, closing the door behind her. Turning around, she sits above me, her legs on either side of my head, one on the floor of the car, the other bent on the seat. Her arousal drips down, and I grab her thighs and slide my tongue over her slit. She shudders when it grazes her clit, because it’s been far too long. “You like that, don’t you, my dirty little princess? My tongue shoved inside your small holes.”
She whimpers and pushes her pussy down on my mouth. I swirl my tongue around her clit, faster, then bury it inside her wet channel, lapping and licking. My balls are lead, and my inflated cock slaps against my stomach with a dull thump. Until I feel her lips taking the head in, sucking the moisture away.
I growl, fucking angry that I went without this for a single day, let alone a week. She keeps making those sounds that kindle every primal instinct in me, and takes my cock deeper inside the wet slip and slide of her hot mouth.
“Fucking hell, Ariel.” I hiss a harsh groan. “Your mouth is too fucking good, baby.”
She moans when I hold her hips in place and eat her out, her pussy clenching when I push my fingers in to stroke the spot that’s a trigger point. We keep going, her deep-throating the fuck out of my cock, me licking her swollen nub relentlessly, my finger massaging her deep, on and on. My cock vibrates from her sounds, and she writhes, riding my mouth, playing with my balls, while I suck and slurp on the pussy that is designed for this. For me. When I suckle hard on her clit, my teeth combing over it gently, she comes, filling my mouth with her nectar.
“Shit, Eli!!!!” She hollers my name, pulling off my cock, and I wait till I have every drop, to sit up and pull her up, her back to my front.
“Gonna fill your pussy with my cum, princess.” I grunt in her ear, fisting her golden red hair to move it aside and bite on her neck, and gliding inside her wet entrance in one smooth, uninterrupted thrust. She throws her head back as her tight little pussy stretches for me, and I use my other palm to bounce and knead her tits. Pull and twist her nipples. Pumping up into her, slow, small thrusts at first, then harder and faster and deeper like she loves.
Her body convulses in my arms, as she comes again, and it makes me yield my own control. I release inside of her, and her amazing pussy milks me dry, tightening around my cock in a death grip.
I slump my back against the door, my hands around her waist, resting her on me.
“Can’t feel my leg.” She says dazedly, glancing at her leg that has stayed bent the whole time, squished between me and the back of the seat. Fuck. I turn her to face me, setting her back against the seat, and I rub my arms up and down her leg, bending and unbending her knee. “Your hair looks so...doable...after we do this.” She says in a lazy drone.
I laugh, in genuine humor that her words always invoke. “My hair looks doable?”
“Yes.” She says, and something about the way she says it, firm and loud, without post-coital tiredness, makes me look up from tending to her leg. “Yes.” She repeats, and my hands stop moving.
“Ariel.” I breathe her name, unsure how she found out. Unsure, but not surprised. Because it’s virtually impossible for me to keep a secret from her. And as far as secrets go, I’m guessing buying an engagement ring tops the list.
She smiles, shy and so fucking happy, it slays me. She’s had no anxiety attacks after the one in the car that first night. And she never fucking will.
“Yes, I’ll marry you, Mr King.” She intently answers my unasked question, immeasurable sunniness buzzing up my spine. She’s mine, and I’m hers. “I’ll love you and have your babies and take care of you and I will suck your cock so good--”
I kiss her hard for a few seconds, before separating, panting, “We don’t have to rush. We can wait for a few years if you--”
“I don’t wanna wait. We’ll tell mom when we visit this weekend.” She leans over and nestles against my chest. Her mother still has bad days, but she’s never hit again, and I’m always with Ariel there. The door I’m not opening is my mother. Ariel brings her up sometimes, but I’m not ready to ingratiate mom in our lives beyond providing for her. Maybe I’ll never be. I’m at peace with it. Ariel’s ambrosial scent wafting up forces all thoughts out, and I gaze at her deliciously sweaty skin pressing against mine. I want to lick every inch of her body, but I also want to simply hold her. “Also,” She murmurs, “...think of the tax benefits we’ll get if we’re married filing jointly.”
“True.” I chuckle, insanely relieved and deliriously contented.
She lightly trails her fingertips over my arm, before lifting her brown eyes to mine. “Selena said our new Chief Marketing Officer made a pass at you.”
Always so fucking direct. “Yeah, we’re going to let her go.”
Ethan left a few months ago to explore his spiritual side. It surprised me that no one seemed upset at him leaving. And no one said anything when I told them that I’m going to have to fire the new CMO. However you want to handle this, Eli, we’re with you--Steve said calmly when I told them haltingly about the cause. I thought it would take the whole meeting, but everyone nodded their agreement in 5 minutes, okay with whatever I decided. That’s a running theme in most of my meetings now. They’re human. So am I. They trust me and I trust them. We all miss Warren every single day, and that’s exactly how it needs to be. I wish Ariel had more time with him, but we’ve read extracts of the last nine years in his words over and over. We’ve both read his journal, start to finish, multiple times, and we both have our parts we like, but our favorite is the entry he made the night we lost him.
~How did I not see it before? They’re perfect for each other. I knew there was a reason Eli was not born my son.~
“Good.” Ariel kisses my chest, chucking all other thoughts out. “Hotel heiress has a catfight with new employee over CEO boyfriend would make for bad PR.”
“Yeah, but it would make for fantastic foreplay material.” I comment dryly, loving this. I love sex with her, but these are the moments I cherish. Sated, unhurried, tender, intimate moments where we talk and share.
“You have some kind of a lesbian fetish, Mr King?” She turns her face up, then narrows her eyes in a fake chiding expression.
“I have all kinds of you fetishes, Ms Walton.” I place a kiss on her chin, feeling her soft breath on my face.
She cringes and turns her nose at the name again. I thought with time, she might warm up to it, but it doesn’t sound right, she says. Now she abruptly goes still in my arms, and ca
sts a startled expression my way. “That’s it.”
I frown. “What?”
“It’s perfect!” She beams at me.
“What, baby? What’s perfect?”
“King. Ariel King. I love it! Do you love it?” She asks me, solemnly now, like there’s an actual probability of me not loving it.
I start with her lips again instead of answering the rhetorical question.
We’re late going into work that day, but who cares when we have everything we need right here with each other?
Letter to the reader
Dear awesome reader,
A little secret--I LOVE it when someone like you reaches out to me for a question, a comment, a complaint, or a compliment! If you have any of those, you can find me at
([email protected]) or on
Facebook @mayarosebooks.
Of course, for indie self-published authors like me, nothing beats seeing your wonderful thoughts in a review on Amazon or Goodreads.
Either way, thank you so much for sticking around till this page! I hope you had as much fun reading this book as I had writing it.
xoxo,
Maya