See You Monday: An Office Romance (Weekday series Book 1)

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See You Monday: An Office Romance (Weekday series Book 1) Page 25

by Tiffany Costa


  “When we first met, you wore that pink frilly top that stops right above your tits. And I’d have done anything for you to have been some slut I met at a bar so that I could fuck you against my bookcase.”

  I took his entire length into my mouth, shutting him up. He moaned. I bobbed my head twice over just his tip and let go.

  His voice was shaky, and he gripped the edge of the couch, as if the torture I administered was too much for him to handle. “I went running that day,” he gasped as I took all of him and stilled, “because I had a hard-on just watching you pulling your hair up.”

  I licked up his shaft.

  “Most of the days I went running was to stop myself from picturing you naked.”

  I took his whole cock in again. He whimpered, his fists tightening so hard his knuckles were white from the strain of keeping his hands off of me.

  He took several deep breaths, and his tortured tone changed. Low and commanding, he continued, “And when you bite your fucking pen all I’d see was you—”

  I sucked him in hard and quick, my clit pulsing. Fuck, I wanted to climax so bad. I reached between my legs and circled it slowly at every word he said, the feel of him filling my mouth, touching the back of my throat, his soft skin against my tongue was maddening.

  “Sucking my cock like this. I know you fucking love it.” He growled and grabbed the nape of my neck, stopping me. I felt his cock pulse and twitch in my mouth. He was close. A rush of pleasure washed over every nerve ending from my scalp to my toes. So close to the edge, I had to stop my circling fingers. I grabbed his balls and dipped my two wet fingers just behind them, to the sensitive smooth skin of his perineum. “Look at me.” He commanded and I released his cock altogether and smiled innocently up at him, pressing my fingers against that skin a little harder.

  § Isaac§

  After a second of silence, she took me into her mouth and hummed her pleasure into me, the vibrations making me whimper.

  “I do love it,” she gasped before plunging me deep inside the silken warmth of her throat. Her fingers returned to working circles on her clit, the other mimicking those circles on the unbearably sensitive skin behind my balls. I could tell from the way her spine undulated that she was as close to the edge as I was.

  I grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her face up to meet mine. “I didn’t say you could cum yet.” My words were met with her impish grin.

  “I don’t always do what I’m told,” her eyes dropped to my cock, lips glistening. Her bangs fell from my grasp and brushed across her brow.

  “If we finish now, I won’t fuck you later,” I warned.

  “Yes you will.” She shook her head, freeing herself, and dropped her mouth to me again, licking every inch of me before sucking me inside of her again. Her head bobbed rhythmically, dropping deeper with each thrust.

  If I wasn’t well aware that both of our orgasms would be amplified by one more edge and denial, I would have spilled into her right then. Instead, I grabbed her wrists before she understood what I was doing and pulled her up to my lap. Her cunt slipped down my shaft, and Celeste ground her clit against me. Taking her ass in my hands I lifted her hips, stopping us both.

  “Just wait a moment,” I said, my voice faltering. Her lips were on mine instantly.

  Celeste pulled away and kissed my cheek. “We’re even now.” She stood, crossed her thighs to control her orgasm, a flush painting her cheeks. She pulled on her panties and stalked away. I heard the telltale sound of the refrigerator opening and the ruffling of its contents.

  After a long wait for my cock to soften I did the same and joined her. “Now,” I kissed her neck, “no touching until after dinner.”

  “We’re almost done with this fucking project. If we stay up all night, we could finish and then just edit tomorrow.” She dropped the diced onions into the copper pot lined with butter.

  I pulled the chicken out of the packaging and prepped it while we talked. “I’m a terrible person for wanting this, but if we get this interview with Sarah Taylor and she tells us she was trafficked, it might finally shed light on the horrors of the Seminovik family. Finally prove they’re mafia.”

  “I agree. She could help prove a lot of your theories, laundering, trafficking, drugs, all of it.” Celeste pulled out the spices and passed them to me, sniffing the aromatic turmeric before adding more for me. “I’m actually dreading the interview. I know she implies that she willingly and consensually sold herself, but I’m scared that she’ll have a terrible past that…. is at odds with that.”

  “Whether she wants to tell her story or not, at this point she’s on the world stage. Her life is about to become very public. She can either tell us, and have the truth released, or let the media paint her as a prostitute turned violent rioter. That’s the story Russia is going with, that she incited all this violence because she was a prostitute, not because she knows things.”

  “Is that really choice? She’s going to become a target. She already is.”

  I thought about it for a long moment while the chicken browned into the spices and butter. “Sarah Taylor has to know the worst parts of the Seminovik ‘business.’ She was their captive in some way. Why else would she turn on them? We will probably become targets, too. There is no right answer here, Celeste. I understand if you want to step away from this.”

  “Fuck no!” She spat. “I want to see all those rich assholes burn.”

  “Me too.” A darkness surfaced, putting us both in our thoughts.

  CHAPTER 36

  Celeste

  We sat at his counter and ate the spicy chicken, soaking up the sauce with rice and naan. A sweet sense of safety had me eating until I was full. The silence wasn’t awkward.

  “So what do you do for fun Miss McAlaster? I want to take you on a real date.” He asked, nudging my knee with his.

  “You,” I answered.

  “Not stand-up comedy, I see.” He took a bite and smirked.

  I burst out laughing, covering my hideously full mouth with the back of my hand. “I like to go out dancing.”

  “After I fuck you senseless and we finish this damned report, would you like to go out dancing with me?”

  “I’d love to.” I leaned in. He stopped me with a finger to my lips.

  “Did I say you could touch me yet?”

  “This game is awful.”

  “Isn’t it?” He stood and gathered his plate, tossing it in the dishwasher. “I’ll meet you in the bedroom.”

  When I joined him, he held a riding crop in his hand and had set out a tie at the foot of the bed. “Our safe-words are red, yellow, and green. Red, for stop. Yellow, a warning that it’s becoming pain and not pleasure. And green for when you’ve had enough and want to cum.”

  I nodded.

  “Unless you want to hold the crop.”

  I considered it for a nanosecond before deciding. “Next time. I want you to be in charge today.”

  Isaac tucked my hair behind my ear and kissed me softly. “If you misbehave, I’ll tie you up. Understand?” He didn’t wait for my response.

  Isaac pushed me back to the edge of the bed. “Tie your hair up.” He demanded, ripping the elastic from my wrist. I arched my back to gather my hair and felt the biting sting of his crop. I yelped from surprise.

  Isaac waited. “Harder?”

  I turned my back to him and he nipped me again, this time a little harder. It rippled through me. “This okay?” I nodded. Isaac spanked me, the warmth the hit left behind melting into pleasure.

  “Yes.” I crawled to the bed on all fours.

  “Naughty girl,” he purred. I peeked over my shoulder at him. Isaac smiled and whipped me again, even harder.

  I took in a sharp breath. “Yellow. That’s perfect.”

  “Arch your back.” He dragged the crop down my spine.

  I stretched my hands out in front of me, resting my cheek to the crisp sheets. Isaac continued dragging the crop from my ass down my legs, ticking me with the light tou
ch. I felt the warm wetness of his tongue run up from my clit to my opening, his tongue dipping in and out. He struck me again lightly.

  He repeated this several times. Every caress and strike more forceful than the last. I shamelessly pushed back into his tongue moaning loudly, drifting away from my thoughts, abandoning my reserve and misgivings. All that remained was sensation, pleasure and pain, the sound of Isaac’s growls as he struck me. I stopped thinking about why I liked it, what it meant, why I’d never tried before. I just lived in the building pleasure of my climax.

  “Come here,” Isaac grabbed my ankles from under me and flipped me over. He pinned me by my hips with his legs, his hard cock settling against my clit, the pressure edging me. Isaac ran the crop from my cheek down to my belly button and clapped me on my side. This pain was sharper. With only a flick of his wrist, I flinched.

  My pussy tightened and I felt a rush of wetness, making the place where our bodies joined slippery. I ground against him and he sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Red.” I grabbed his nape and pulled his lips to mine.

  Isaac kissed my body from where he’d whipped my waist to my breasts and up my neck. “Don’t fucking move. Understand me, love?” His voice was low, raspy, heavy in a way I’d never heard it. It sent a thrill down my spine. He was as lost to me as I was to him. I pulled him close to me, raking my nails up his spine. Isaac reached between us and thrust his whole cock inside of me.

  He stilled inside of me, groaning his pleasure into my ear. I closed my eyes, focusing on the sensation of his cock filling me. I felt him run his knuckles from my hip up to my breast. He peeled my hands from around his back and pinned them above my head with one hand, binding me at the wrists.

  He pulled out of me right to the tip and thrust into me hard, punishing.

  “You feel so fucking good,” I whispered into his ear.

  Isaac slowed his rhythm even more.

  I squeezed the muscles of my pussy around him, “Fuck. Celeste, I said don’t move.”

  I relaxed and squeezed again as he thrust into me. “Why? Are you afraid you’ll cum before me?” I nipped his neck. He growled, the primal sound shattering me. I tsked into his ear, in tandem with three hard pulses around his length. “Just fuck me, Isaac. You know you want to.” My voice was just above a whisper. I could feel how hard he was trying to stay slow and steady, but he faltered and fucked me quick for a few thrusts. I gripped him as hard as I could. I might have been pinned down, but I was in control.

  Isaac came up to his knees, lifting my hips, gripping my ass, still sore from the lashing, and pulled out of me. “Only if you’re a good girl and do as you’re told.”

  As I fought to sit up, Isaac put a hand to my chest and pushed me back down onto the bed. I grabbed the crop he’d tossed to the edge of the bed and swung at him, striking his arm. He gasped, more from surprise than the sting. “I said, fuck me,” I yelped with a grin.

  Isaac’s eyes lit up with his smile and thrust deep into me. “Like this?” He thrust hard and deep.

  “Yes!” I screamed as he slammed into me over and over. The tension built until I stumbled over it, my orgasm breaking and ripping through me.

  Isaac cried out as he came, spilling into me, thrusting one last time and digging his fingers into my ass. I clamped down on his cock as he came, his eyes rolling back and closing. I bolted up drove, myself down onto his cock, impaling myself on him. “Celeste, no—it’s too much.” I ground into him, stretching his orgasm thin, aware of how sensitive and deliciously torturous it felt for him. He moaned into my neck, and I lifted myself again and fucked him until he was chuckling into my neck, our bodies touching everywhere. Our breath mixing between us as we kissed.

  We stayed like that for a while, as he softened inside of me, kissing and teasing each other through sated smiles. I didn’t want to let go of him, the feel of his warm skin against mine. The way my nipples and breasts pressed against his hard chest. I rode the high of my orgasm in his arms, brushing his dark hair from his forehead just to gaze into his cobalt eyes. He did the same, tucking my bangs behind my ears and fluttering kisses against my brow as he did.

  § Isaac§

  I wasn’t satisfied. I wanted more. More of her. Every part of her. It wasn’t enough for me. It would never be enough for me. The way she cradled my head in her hands and refused to pull away had me hoping, wishing that she felt the way I did at that moment.

  I laid her down gently back on the mattress and pulled out of her. She panted and sighed, eyes closed and smiling. As I watched her naked body, knees crossed, flushed and beautiful, I thought I might break. I’d fallen in love with this woman. There was no denying that I was bewitched by her.

  I lifted her ankle and kissed the little groove of her instep. Then headed to the shower to burn under the heat of what I shouldn’t feel. I’d told her it was just sex. That was the deal. And I’d been stupid enough to think my little crush would end with that.

  CHAPTER 37

  Celeste

  “Ugh, I have to call my mom.”

  Isaac kissed my shoulder, his body pressed against mine everywhere. “Has she been behaving?”

  “Do you mean, has she been scheming with the devil? Not that I know of. But probably.” I rolled over to face him, coming nose to nose with a man that made me feel… wanted.

  Safe. The word skipped past my consciousness and I shook my head as if I could toss away the thought.

  “Whatever happened with that?” Isaac’s hand on my cheek was doing things to me. Things that weren’t entirely sexual.

  “Nothing. I haven’t called her since, and I’ve ignored all her calls.”

  “I understand. I did that for years with my mum.”

  “You two seem so close. I hear your phone calls.”

  Isaac chuckled and took my chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Eavesdropping is rude, Miss McAlaster. But, yes, we’re close now.” A kiss to the tip of my nose. “I think we should both call our mothers. I haven’t heard from mine this week. I’m beginning to worry.”

  The second to last person I wanted to talk to on earth was my mother.

  Nevertheless, once Isaac was gone down the hallway I rolled over and dialed, semi-hoping it would go to voicemail.

  “Celeste, If I were dead you wouldn't even know. I have some news you might want to hear about Monday.”

  I steeled my expression. I could see the back of my skull from how far back I rolled my eyes. “Hi, mom. I've been busy and the time change makes it hard.”

  “That’s a great excuse. Did you come up with it all on your own?”

  I am used to this. This is just how she is. This is just how she is. This is just how she is.

  Do not engage.

  “Yes, mom. With all the brain cells I have left. I clapped them together to make that excuse.” I said cheerfully, throwing my pleasant plan to shit. I was furious, resentment boiling over within me. I struggled to reign it in, to tamp it down, turn off the burner. I was good at that.

  I’d always been so good at that.

  “Are you calling to see if you’re getting your money back?”

  Fuel to the fire. I raised my voice, careless that Isaac could hear me—a petulant child—in the other room. “That would be a bonus. But no, I’m calling you, actually, because I miss you. But if this is how our conversations are going to go then I think we need to take a break from each other.”

  What are you doing? Don’t engage!

  “Don’t you dare talk to me like that!”

  “Or what? What mom?”

  “What the hell has gotten into you?”

  “You know, I just knew—I knew—you were going to start a fight. How about, ‘hey honey, how are you? Are you healing from the trauma of being left at the altar?’”

  “You left him,” she spat. “Without even saying anything!”

  Laughter bubbled over, peals so loud and uncontrolled that my mother’s sputtering went silent.

  “I don’t even recognize you. M
oving to London has changed you. You used to be so respectful and good.”

  “Oh mom,” I wiped a tear from my cheek, “it has.” Isaac appeared in the doorway, arms folded, leaning against the doorframe. “I finally feel like myself, and it’s okay if you don’t like that. I found people who do.”

  Her end of the line went quiet for a long time. I could see it, if I closed my eyes, my mother’s disapproving nod, her lips curled down in disgust. It must kill her that she can’t slap me, I thought. It must kill her that she can’t glare me into submission. But I wasn’t anyone’s pet anymore, performing for friends and family to applaud what a good job she’d done raising such an agreeable girl.

  “Mom?” I knew she was still there, but my voice came out shakier than I intended. “I know you can’t understand, because you really like Anthony, but I’ve moved on. Completely. When you accept that, call me. I’m not fighting with you about this anymore. Ever. I love you.”

  She hung up on me, and despite the pride in my chest, it stung a little.

  “That went well.” Isaac lingered in the doorway.

  “Yeah. You?”

  “Mum didn’t pick up.” The worry was plain across his face.

  “Do you think we should go and check up on her?”

  He considered it for a moment and shook his head. “No. She’s probably fine. I’ll worry when it hits ten days.” He nodded to himself. I could see that he was convincing himself not to panic, so I dropped the subject.

  We showered, shaved, and dressed separately. I sat at the kitchen counter while Isaac finished writing across the room on the couch we’d defiled the night before. The comfortable harmony of our work stretching out for hours between us. When dinner rolled around, we were bleary-eyed and ready for a distraction. Which I instigated, dragging Isaac to the floor and riding him until we were both satiated and ready for sleep.

 

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