Forbidden Desires Box Set
Page 11
I opened my mouth to respond, but then his fingers were at my apex, circling around that little button that was oh-so-ready to be touched.
He teased me, winding around it over and over again until I felt like I might just go insane right then and there. Finally, just when I wanted to hit him in frustration, he put direct pressure on that bundle of nerves.
I let out a wanton moan, head falling back against the pillow, but I could hear the smile in his voice as he talked.
“That’s in, sweetheart. Let me take care of you. Just let go.”
Oh, I wanted to, I did, but I felt like I was being wound tighter than a top, all the muscled in my body bearing down on a single point of sensation that was driving me utterly insane.
Then his hand shifted, turning so that it was his thumb stimulating my clit. I didn’t get why the change was necessary until I felt a finger slide into me.
“Oh!”
There was a slight pinch, then a feel of slightly uncomfortable stretching. I tensed, and Mr. Fitzgerald was pressing gentle kisses all over my face.
“Just relax,” he soothed, his finger gently pulling out of me before sliding in again. “Breathe for me, okay?”
I nodded, drawing a deep breath in and then letting it out. Once I got over the foreign surprise of the pressure, it wasn’t that bad, and the pleasured throbbing from his thumb’s work quickly overrode it.
“You ready to keep going?” he murmured, deep, dark eyes seeming to stare all the way through to my soul. “We don’t have to.”
“Please,” I panted, my arms wrapping around his shoulder to try to yank him to me. “Please, keep going.”
“That’s my girl,” he murmured, pressing another kiss to the side of my head.
All I could do was hang on as he slid another finger into me. Now the pressure was more intense, and I found my lower half trying to bare down on his digits, as if I could push them out of my body.
“You’re so tight for me, sweetheart. You’ve gotta relax, okay?”
“How am I supposed to relax?” I panted, that hot rise of a climax burning towards me once more.
“Like this,” he responded, applying more pressure with his thumb and curling his fingers inside of me while making a ‘come here’ motion.
I didn’t know what he touched, but whatever it was felt like it caused an explosion inside of me, and then I was coming even harder than I had on his desk. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t think. Everything in the world vanished, leaving only the unadulterated waves of ecstasy that were shorting out my brain.
“Shit, Mr. Fitzgerald! Shit!” I cried out between my wanton moans, no other words coming to mind. He held me until I finally let go of him and melted into a mess on the sheets.
“You can call me Fitz at this stage of the game.”
“Oh, so this is a game then?” I wheezed, feeling like a sack of putty. I didn’t care what I looked like or how sweaty I was, I was far too blissed out. “In that case, new high score.”
He laughed slightly then pulled away from me enough to lean over the side of the bed. I just watched him, only vaguely curious, until I saw him pull a condom from his nightstand.
Oh. Right. Safe sex.
After all my thinking that I was a clever, put together woman, I had completely forgotten about protection. Thank God Mr. Fitzgera- Fitz- was experienced enough to keep his head about him.
But if he had a condom, that meant that it was about to happen, right?
He posted himself on his knees, his thighs on either side of my hips and his length was bobbing against my soft, round stomach. I didn’t think it was possible, but it looked even more angry and needy than it had before.
I swallowed several times, not sure what to think, and then Mr. Fitzgerald’s gaze found me again.
“Is this alright?” he asked, pausing with the golden foil packet still in hand.
I looked from him to his erection, which was practically weeping for me. It made me feel a little intimidated, but at the same time a little powerful. I had done that to him, just by virtue of being attractive.
Wow.
“Isn’t it, uh,” I scrambled to find my words again. Geez, I missed the day when I was eloquent and snarky. “… a little big?”
He grinned wryly at that. “It’s above average.”
“And it’ll fit?”
“If we’re careful,” he answered, his voice strained. “We don’t have to, though.”
“But you’re already like this!” I objected.
To my great surprise, he just shrugged. “My state doesn’t matter. You’re allowed to change your mind at any time and I’m more than capable of taking care of myself.”
I looked up at him in wonder. “What about blue balls?”
“A myth made up by weak men who have to pressure women to have sex with them rather than finding a willing partner.”
I found myself swallowing harshly again. “You’re a lot more understanding than anyone else who’s tried to get into my pants.”
He almost growled at that and suddenly he was kissing me again. When he pulled away from me, he looked so solemn that I wondered what I had said wrong.
“Then none of those men deserved to even look at you. You owe your body no one, not me, not them. That’s what makes sex so intimate. It’s a choice between two people, not something you owe someone or a transaction.” He kissed me once more as if he was trying to make sure I got it. “That’s why it makes me so hot that you chose to share this with me.”
“Oh,” I murmured, his words making me flood my panties yet again. “I think I’m ready.”
“You think?” he murmured ruefully.
“I am ready.”
He nodded and sat back up again, tearing the little packet open with his teeth. I was still a bit too embarrassed to watch him put it on, so I closed my eyes until I felt something pressing against my entrance.
…it felt a whole lot bigger than two fingers. My eyes flew open in worry but then he was doing that thing where he kissed me all over again.
“Just breathe for me, sweetheart. Breathe and relax.”
I tried to do as he said, but each time his hips slid forward it felt like he was trying to shove a soda can into me. The stretch was intense, and the burn was something else. I’d always had a high pain tolerance, but this was something else entirely. Something that made my toes curl and my heart skip a few beats.
But the thing that kept me going was that it would only take a single word and I knew Fitz would stop right then and there. He wouldn’t pressure me to keep going, he would just listen and pull out and then that would be that.
I held onto that idea as he kept going, pushing in bit by bit, the lubrication my body provided helping out a whole lot. I only let myself focus on breathing until finally, he stopped, his hips flushed to mine.
“That’s it, baby girl, you’re doing so good for me. So good.”
He held himself still above me and for a moment I didn’t understand why, but then he gave a little rock of his hips that caused a wave of discomfort through me.
“Ow,” I murmured.
“It’s okay, sweetheart, just let yourself adjust. I won’t move again until you’re ready.”
And the crazy thing was I absolutely knew that he wouldn’t. He would wait there until the world ended if I made him.
And that idea was so utterly intoxicating that I felt myself relax.
Sure, the feeling of being stretched wide open was weird. Alien. Uncomfortable. But with each second that passed, with each kiss that he pressed to my skin, I felt that pinch turn around until it was something else entirely.
I couldn’t say how many minutes had passed, a handful, maybe more, but after long enough there was a strange sort of need in me. Like I had been filled but that wasn’t enough. It wanted movement. I wanted stimulation.
“Please,” I whispered, unsure to communicate exactly what it was that I wanted. But Fitz seemed to get in instantly and slowly pulled backwards.
God! The feeling that he dragged out of me wasn’t fair, and before my mind could even contemplate it, he was sliding back in again. A braking whimper of need escaped me, and he repeated the motion with maddening patience.
“More,” I begged, lifting my legs to wrap around him along with my arms. “Please, oh God, please more!”
I didn’t need to ask twice. He picked up the speed, diving all the way into me then pulling out before repeating it again. With each movement I felt myself grow slicker, accommodating him more and more until all of the discomfort was gone and all that was left was pleasure and a faint sort of achiness.
Time did that funny thing again, stretching out and narrowing at random, making everything that was happening to me into its own event. I felt like my body was changing, my world shifting, and that nothing else would be the same again.
That same feeling was building within me again, and I could feel my lower body fluttering on Fitz’s length as he rocked in and out of me. He was still being careful, I could tell even in my inexperience, and I couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like if he really let loose.
“Come for me, sweetheart,” he growled in my ear, his breath heated even against my burning skin. “I want to feel you lose control around me.”
“I… I’m trying,” I gasped. “I’m close, so close.”
But there was something missing. Something that I didn’t quite understand. Did he? He seemed to, because he nibbled gently at the shell of my ear before his hand slid in the scant space between us, his fingers finding the apex of my slit once again.
It only took a couple of presses to that button and then the wave hit me again. But it was completely different from all the others I had ever had by my own hand, and even the two that Mr. Fitzgerald had given me. It was deeper, achier, a throbbing sort of completion that made my heart skip and the world wink away once more.
Every muscle in my body tightened for a second, then fell away into ruin. I was blinded, completely overwhelmed by the pleasure that radiated through every part of me, and then I came crashed back to my body.
“That’s my girl,” Fitz panted, looking down at me with such certainty, such desire that I couldn’t help but tremble. I felt shaky and drugged, as if I had tasted a bit of heaven and had somehow stolen my way back to Earth. “You did so good for me, so good.”
Each of his words were punctuated by a deep, hard thrust that went further into me than I thought possible. If I wasn’t so boneless and wet from my own climax, it might have hurt. But instead it just rocked me further and I watched his face as he came undone inside of me.
It was something to behold.
His orgasm didn’t seem to last nearly as long as mine did, and after a few beats we were still, just laying pressed into each other in the most intimate way possible.
“…wow,” I whispered, the word not doing nearly enough to describe how I felt.
But he just chuckled slightly and pressed a chaste kiss to my forehead before withdrawing slowly. I whimpered at the strange sort of emptiness, but he just patted my cheek.
He left the room and for a moment self-consciousness swamped me at everything that I had done. But then he was back, sans the condom and with a glass of water.
“Here,” he murmured. “Drink.”
I nodded and gulped down the cool liquid, which I hadn’t realized I had needed so thoroughly.
I downed almost all of it before handing the glass back to him. He drank the rest before setting it down on the nightstand and slipping back into the bed.
I relaxed, letting him pull me flush to him. He felt so strong, so secure against my back, that it wasn’t long before I slipped under the gentle waves of sleep, my body throbbing in all the best ways.
Beverly
When I woke up, the first thing I was aware of was that there was an unfamiliar ache between my thighs, one that spoke of rites of passage and new bonds. Memories of the previous night and what I had done swamped me, and I found myself blushing into my own hands.
But I felt good. Like I had passed some barrier that I had been holding myself behind and I was finally ready to move forward with my journey into adulthood.
I rolled over to look at Fitz, realizing that for all of our sex the previous night that I hadn’t done much touching of him. I’d never run my fingers through his light chest hair, never let my fingers explore all the striations in his muscles.
Oh well, maybe next time.
I flushed at that. Next time? Goodness, I was getting a little ahead of myself, wasn’t I?
But it was like something had been unlocked in me and I could feel myself wanting to know more, feel more, until I knew everything there was to know about both myself and Fitz.
My stomach fluttered and suddenly I needed to do something for him. Easing out of bed, I headed towards his kitchen to see what I could do for breakfast.
As I got out from under the covers, I realized that I definitely didn’t want to get back into my tight dress from the previous night. Considering that his dick had literally been inside me, I figured Fitz wouldn’t mind if I stole one of his shirts.
Trundling over to his dresser, I found one that was long enough to go past my butt, although it was a bit tighter than I would like. I put that on before fishing out a pair of stretchy boxers that I put on as shorts.
Now that I was a bit decent, I headed out to the kitchen.
He actually had an amazing spread in his fridge and I found myself soon mixing batter for pancakes and cutting up fresh fruit while putting the coffee on. He had once of those fancy French presses that I only knew how to use because I had a haughty caffeine obsessed roomie in college.
I hummed to myself as I moved around, enjoying the pleasant sort of twinging within me that reminded me that I had experienced something that still felt pretty magical.
Oh goodness, was I turning into one of those girls? Ones who went all sappy and romantic at the slightest bit of skinship?
No, I didn’t think so. I was still me. Just a me that I had shared a little with someone I trusted.
Although it was probably pretty damn stupid of me to trust my boss.
No, I wasn’t going to think about that. I had made my choice and lamenting about it wasn’t going to change what was done.
“What’s all this?”
I turned around, having been just about to put another pancake on the stack I had been building up. Fitz was standing there in the door, leaning against his elbow and looking at me with a sleepy sort of appreciation.
“I thought you might be hungry from all your hard work last night,” I said, smiling sheepishly at him.
Oh God. I remembered several of my friends telling me about awkward morning afters and I hope that I hadn’t overstayed my welcome. Was I supposed to have slunk out to do the walk of shame? That wasn’t the impression I had gotten when I had fallen asleep in his arms.
“Hard work? That’s one way to put it.”
I relaxed at that. “Well, I definitely recall being hard definitely had something to do with it.”
He groaned and approached me, wrapping his arms around my waist and kissing the side of my neck. “It’s too early for word play.”
“If you say so, but I’ve been up for a while.” I pulled myself away and patted his cheek. “Sit. Eat.”
“You know, I normally don’t let people push me around.”
“Only when they’re feeding you, right?” I shot back.
“Yeah, only then.”
I pushed a plate full of food towards him then set about making my own spread. Mine was heavier on the fruit because pancakes had never really been my thing, but soon I was sitting right across from him at his kitchen island.
We ate in a comfortable silence, just enjoying each other’s presence. I liked it, and I hadn’t realized that it was something that was possible with anyone, let alone my boss who had at least twenty years on me.
We finished around the same time and I hopped down from my stool, gath
ering our plates to put in his dishwasher. As I was putting the last thing in, I felt his presence behind me.
I turned, a smile on my lips as he pulled me into a kiss. He tasted like blueberries and sugar, so this time I was the one who’s tongue darted out and begged entrance.
He made a contented noise at that, which made me ache in the best way, and his hands came to squeeze my waist.
The next thing I knew, he was picking me up and setting me up on the counter. I let out a breathy laugh at that, then wrapped my legs around his waist once more.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” I murmured, pulling away from his kiss just enough to speak coherently.
“I don’t know, are you thinking of me carrying you to my bed for a repeat performance.”
“Yeah, that’s pretty much exactly what I was thinking.”
He kissed me again and I quickly felt myself go dizzy when he pulled away suddenly. “Oh, wait a moment. I forgot.”
He left to go to a room that I hadn’t been in. I wondered if he was going to get some sort of sexy secret toy or tool or something, but instead he returned with a thick stack of paper that was bound together.
“I need you to sign this,” he said, placing it in my hands then giving me a pen.
“Wait, you need what?” I asked, looking at it. But my entire body went cold as I recognized exactly what it was. I had viewed a couple of them in my month of working with him, but I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why it was in my hands. “This is an NDA.”
“Uh-huh,” he said, stepping between my legs again and going to kiss me. But I pulled away, my mind trying to wrap around what was happening.
“This is a legal, binding document.”
“Yeah,” he said with a laugh. “You’ve looked at them before, why are you staring at it like it’s in French.”
“I speak French,” I shot back. “But what I don’t get is why you’re giving me an NDA. What, is your house some sort of Area 51?”
He chuckled like I was oh so hilarious, but I felt my temper quickly mounting. “Don’t be silly. It’s for us sleeping together.”