Getting Rough

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Getting Rough Page 27

by Parker, C. L.


  “Good. Now suck cock,” he ordered, putting his other hand on my shoulder and pushing me down in front of him.

  And I loved that, as well.

  Sinking to my knees, I let him cup the back of my head and press the head of his cock to my lips. It was sticky and wet with my orgasm, so I stuck out my tongue to taste him, an act that made him groan in approval. Shaw was a visual sort of lover. He liked to watch, and he appreciated the show. So I gave it to him. Swirling my tongue around the head, I closed my eyes and moaned at the taste of myself on him.

  “Jesus, that’s sexy,” he said in that breathy sort of way.

  I looked up at him, a sudden rush of wetness coating my still-exposed pussy again when I saw the way his teeth were pulling at his bottom lip. I wanted to bite that lip, so I chanced a little dominating act of my own and yanked at his arm, making him bend over and release his hold as I grabbed his head with both hands and kissed him. I was pretty sure the only reason he’d let me was because he’d wanted to taste me, too, but I’d only just begun before he’d gotten wise to my agenda and tried to pull away again. I was pretty damn proud of myself for managing to hold on long enough to bite into that juicy morsel I’d been craving and forcing him to nearly split his lip with his attempt to pull free.

  “Enough,” he said, straightening again. He licked the spot, checking for blood and giving me a look of admonishment when he saw the way I delighted in it.

  “Yeah? You think you’re cute?” he asked, and I nodded. “Take your shirt off,” he told me, and I pulled the stupid thing over my head, reaching behind my back to also pop the clasp on my bra and tossing it to the side.

  “That’s my girl,” he said with approval. “Now let’s see how cute you look gagging on my cock. Suck me off.”

  Grabbing the back of my head again, he pushed his cock past my lips and into my mouth. “Wider,” he ordered, and I fell in line, letting him stretch the corners of my mouth with his thickness until he could go no farther. And his “Good girl” was my reward.

  Though we were both playing our roles, Shaw was careful not to get too rough. He knew my limits, and though he tested them, he never pressed too far.

  With a pace that was preferable to him, he thrust in and out of my mouth. I did my best to keep up, and I did a pretty good job of it, too, but there was a whole lot of Shaw to take. He helped with the task, stroking that part of his cock that he couldn’t fit into my mouth, watching the whole time.

  The veins in his arms were thick with his blood, the tendons taut and moving fluidly beneath the skin with his strokes. Shaw’s lips parted as his breathing became labored, and I knew he was close. God, I would’ve loved to have been able to see those glorious ass muscles flexing as he fucked my mouth, but I would be denied. It didn’t matter because I could see his face; his brows furrowed in concentration, his messy hair hanging over his forehead and in need of a trim, and those blue eyes looking down at me like I was the most beautiful, most seductive woman in the world.

  And then he made this sound that I lived to hear. A sort of whimper that turned into a grunting growl. His engorged cock swelled even more in my mouth and I braced for the eruption, even though I really didn’t want him to come in my mouth. I would’ve let him because I wanted to please him. But Shaw proved himself once more when he chose to respect my preference on the matter, and instead, he pulled out of my mouth, continuing to work himself until his semen made an appearance, a stuttered spurting that sent the hot, creamy substance all over my bare breasts.

  I’d thought the sound he’d made before was sexy, but it was nothing compared to the one he made with his release. I loved it. So much that I didn’t even care that he had come all over my tits. I’d give this man anything he ever wanted. And I knew he’d do the same for me.

  Life could be rough. Shaw was a walking testament to that. And it was stupid hard to face alone, though we’d both proven we could do it. But why do it alone if we didn’t have to? Even a person as independent and capable as the two of us were, needed someone else they could depend on, someone to be their ride-or-die. And I was glad Shaw turned out to be that for me. Because if I was going to face the world with someone at my side, I couldn’t think of a more worthy person.

  We’d started out as each other’s most formidable competitor in business, but had somehow become partners on a personal level. And yes, the personal partnership was a risk, but one well worth taking. Our mentors, Wade Price and Monty Prather, would be proud. Though they really didn’t need to know about the coming-on-the-tits thing. Shaw and I would keep that our very dirty little secret.

  Epilogue

  Two months later…

  Mia

  Mornings were my most absolute favorite time of the day. Sitting behind my desk with my laptop in front of me and a beautiful view of downtown Stonington and Penobscot Bay, I could watch the new day’s sun crest on the horizon while letting my imagination run wild. The move to my new home had been like a dream come true, and the townspeople of Stonington had welcomed me with open arms as one of their own.

  And speaking of the townspeople, I was in absolute awe of them. In two months’ time, most of the cleanup from Hurricane Ayla had been completed and construction was well under way to restore some of the homes and businesses lost. Tourism had not suffered, and the lobstering industry had not taken much of a hit. Everything seemed to be business as usual. I wasn’t sure any other town or major city could’ve been quite as resilient, but I guess that was just the sort of stuff Maine’s islanders were made of.

  I’d tried to use their resilience as inspiration for my own career. As the deadline for the manuscript I’d been working on drew nearer, I was in full-on panic mode. The words had been harder to come by and I was running out of story to tell, falling short of the word count I’d been contractually obligated to provide. I was worried. And the more I worried, the more I stressed. The more I stressed, the harder it was to write.

  Maybe I should’ve waited until after the manuscript was complete to move. Maybe I should’ve been less distracted by my personal life and more concerned with my career. But I was a Pisces, and Pisces were notorious for being overly romantic and dreamy, which was both helping and hurting my career at the same time. Though finally, with more stability now present in my life, I was settled enough to get my head back in the game and the words were flowing a little easier.

  I just hoped it wasn’t too little too late.

  A fresh cup of coffee, mixed with three Splendas and plenty of Cinnabon creamer, magically slid in front of me on my desk.

  “Good morning, beautiful,” a sleep-laden voice said at my ear.

  I smiled without having to see where the voice had come from, but of course I wanted to. All my worries about the deadline melted away the moment I turned to look up at my roommate. Casey. My Casey.

  His hair was still sticking up all over the place – which might have been compliments of his pillow, but I knew it was because of my own fingers – and his beard was nice and scruffy, just the way I liked it. He was shirtless but had managed to put on his favorite sleep pants – though I would have preferred he hadn’t – and still smelled like sex.

  “Good morning, gorgeous.”

  Casey leaned down and kissed me, the sort of kiss that made my toes curl, and then he peered over my shoulder to read what I’d written.

  “Wait, I’m pretty sure we did that last night,” he said.

  “You are correct, sir,” I confirmed. “You are my muse after all. I’m still stuck on this one part of the scene, though,” I said, scrolling up to show him the gap at the beginning.

  He read over the part I’d indicated, as genuinely interested in my career as I was in his. And he was always quick to offer suggestions about the story, though he was a guy, so he’d thrown in the idea of a murder or two. Which was a gruesome twist for a romance novel, but at least he tried.

  “Huh. Well, let’s see if I can give you some inspiration,” he said with a wicked sort of glint to h
is eye. Over time, he’d caught on to, and had become quite fond of, the more sexy elements of my job. He’d reaped the benefits, after all.

  Casey turned my chair to face him as he went to his knees before me and hooked his fingers under the waistband of my panties, giving them a hard tug. I giggled as I lifted my bottom to make the task easier for him. God, but I loved the way this man inspired me.

  I wasn’t sure where my panties landed once he’d thrown them across the room, but then again, I really didn’t care. Casey had me bare before him and had pushed my knees apart so he could kiss the inside of my thighs. And even though I was perfectly aware that it was his mouth suckling at my skin, I closed my eyes and let him take me away to a place inside my head where fictional stories came to life.

  I was a lucky, lucky girl, and he was a talented, talented man.

  With his hands behind my knees, he yanked me forward until my ass was on the edge of the seat. And then he tasted me.

  Casey was never hurried when he ate my pussy. He liked to savor the experience, and I was all too happy to let him. His lips were soft as he lightly kissed my clit, and his tongue was generous between my folds. Two thick fingers eased inside me and he worked them back and forth, slow at first and then quickening once I’d acclimated to the presence and he’d found my G-spot. He was an expert at finding it now. Having been quite traditional when we’d first started making love, I’d convinced him to open up to new experiences, which had led to a whole lot of pleasure not only for us but for my characters, as well.

  His thumb found my ass and he slipped it inside, a move that forced me to fist his hair from the all-encompassing pleasure his multiple manipulations gave. His mouth on my clit, his fingers working my pussy, and his thumb’s presence in my ass would make short work of my journey toward one hell of an orgasm.

  Casey’s head moved back and forth between my legs, his hair tickling my thighs while the warmth of his face beckoned them closer. But it was the scruff of his beard that teased me to no end. He knew it, and he used it to his advantage every chance he had.

  Suckling my clit, he moaned when I tugged at his hair. It was a warning, one he knew I’d ignore because my punishment would be my reward. His fingers plunged knuckle deep inside me and his mouth became more persistent while his thumb began to move in and out.

  “Baby… Oh, God… Don’t stop,” I begged, even though I knew he wouldn’t.

  Harder and faster his fingers and thumb worked. I spread my legs wide, giving him room because it would only benefit me more if he had free rein. Casey did not disappoint. I abandoned all thought of my characters and their story, opening my eyes to watch him as his tongue and lips did unspeakable things to my clit and the muscles in his arms became taut with his insistence. The thumb abandoned my ass, but I was okay with that because it was the only way he could fuck me with his fingers properly, really utilizing their length. And yeah, they were as long as they were thick.

  His mouth was the next to go, and he sat back to watch as the end result of all his glorious work came to a head. Casey knew my body like no other. All the signs were present that my orgasm was there, and he loved to watch it coat his fingers. Harder, he pounded into me, his knuckles smacking against my folds and jarring my entire body.

  My breathing and heart rate were off the charts, and my abdomen tightened. Baring down, I allowed my orgasm to come flooding forward with a hearty moan that was none too quiet.

  Casey watched. Watched and licked his lips. And then just as it ebbed, he pulled his fingers free and gathered his reward in his mouth. Another orgasm hit, and although instinct made me want to close my eyes and arch my back to it, I didn’t. Because I was hypnotized by the sight of him between my thighs.

  He continued to work me with his mouth until I finally came down. And then with one last soft kiss to my very sensitive clit, he sat back with a smirk.

  Getting to his feet, he leaned over and kissed me fully on the mouth so I could taste myself on his lips. “Write that,” he whispered into my ear, and then he sauntered out of the room with all the swag and confidence of a man who’d earned the right to.

  “I love you!” I called after him.

  “I love you, too!”

  Cassidy

  Having an affair with the boss was not an easy thing to manage. But so far, so good. Shaw and I had kept up our previous bitchiness toward each other while stealing precious moments together behind closed doors. Truthfully, the arguments had fueled our lust for each other even more. Neither of us was the sappy type, and it had been the constant cutthroat attitudes we mutually shared that had landed us in bed with each other in the first place. So it was just like any normal day. Only when Shaw was done bending me over a desk to fuck some manners into me after I’d shown him up in front of the boardroom, he’d cap it off with an “I love you.”

  We’d spent every night together, except for the few between the time Shaw had had to return to San Diego and when I was able to leave Stonington to join him. Those were tough nights, but I’d thrown myself into helping out Ma and Da as much as I could before they’d practically shoved me out the door and onto a plane to send me back to him. Apparently, I’d been moody without him and driving them up the wall. Go figure. They’d spent years making me feel guilty about not returning home often enough only to tell me I’d overstayed my welcome.

  I was glad to get back to my reality, though. And I couldn’t wait to get back into Shaw’s arms. I’d spent every night curled up next to him in bed. Sometimes his, sometimes mine. We hadn’t done anything stupid like move in with each other, but we did keep things like pajamas and toothbrushes at each other’s apartments.

  Shaw had managed to hang on to his title as partner of Striker Sports Entertainment despite the catastrophe Denver’s little disappearance act had nearly caused him. A catastrophe my roommate, Quinn, had been in the center of. I was happy for Quinn. Denver had come out of the closet during a press conference, and despite the derogatory backlash that we’d all expected would happen, he and Quinn and their relationship had survived. It was big news for all of about a month, though eventually it had settled down. I honestly thought Denver would be disappointed when the circus left town, but he was still making headlines with his skills on the field, which kept him in the limelight, so he was satisfied. He was a total attention hound. As was Quinn, which made them the perfect couple.

  And speaking of perfect couples… Landon and Sasha were still going strong. He treated her like a perfect gentleman should treat a lady, and the only tears she cried now were tears of joy. We honestly expected he’d propose any day now. Landon was one of those undercover romantics, so it wouldn’t surprise me in the least.

  What I was surprised by was the fact that Chaz had finally gotten over himself and his hang-up about his financial ranking long enough to ask Demi out. The little slut had been so excited, she’d given it up to him on the first date – a fact that Sasha, Quinn, and I reminded her of every chance we got. And she used every chance she got to brag about how good he was in the sack. Good for her.

  Monkey Business was still our favorite hangout spot, and it was becoming more and more crowded. Though our table was still safely guarded by our favorite barkeep, Chaz. There was something to be said for preferential treatment. It was our place, our home away from home. So that was where we found ourselves sitting today, just like any other normal day. Only thing was that I hadn’t had a cold beer in a really long time. I wasn’t sure my stomach could handle it.

  I’d been sick for a couple of weeks now. Nothing more than a bit of queasiness that came and went. I’d attributed it to the stress of travel and readjusting to life back in San Diego with a hurried routine, while trying to catch up on all the work I’d missed while away. Things had really been piling up. Not that Allie hadn’t done all she could to keep things nice and tidy. Some of my clients simply required one-on-one attention from their agent and weren’t satisfied with speaking to anyone other than me. I was okay with that, just really ex
hausted all the time.

  Shaw was at the bar with Landon and Chaz, nursing a frosty mug, and it made my mouth water. Well, I wasn’t sure if it was the sight of Shaw or the ale that turned on all the gotta-have-it, but since I couldn’t exactly mount Shaw here, I’d decided to go for the amber. With no more than a nod in his direction, Chaz caught the cue and slid one down the bar.

  The bottle was ice-cold in my hand, the aroma of the hops teasing my olfactory senses and really making me crave the taste. I’d no sooner raised it to my lips than it was yanked away. My narrowed eyes and a growl took aim at the culprit, Demi.

  “Not gonna happen,” she said, handing off the bottle to her partner in crime, Sasha, who passed it over to a confused Landon.

  Just then, the bell above the door chimed and Quinn came bounding in. He was light on his feet, giving the evil eye to a couple of patrons who’d crossed the beeline path he’d been making toward us.

  “I’ve got it,” he said, motioning toward a plain brown paper bag under his arm. “Come on, let’s go.”

 

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