Hostile Work Environment: A Dirty Billionaire Boss Romance

by Dark Angel

  Mason raises his eyebrows. “Oh, snap.”

  Keagan

  I drift in and out of a restless sleep. Sometimes, only a minute has passed when I look at the clock again, and sometimes, it’s more than an hour later when I open my eyes again.

  I was hoping I could talk to Dana about going public soon. I know that it might damage my career, but I’m confident enough in my social media program to know that despite my personal scandals, the venture won’t fail. People are too reliant on new technology and software.

  And I want to be with Dana. I hate hiding everything we’re doing. I’ve cared for her for a long time, and I want to be able to call her mine.

  If she doesn’t want it, there is nothing I can do. I didn’t know she was so against it. Her actions, her sex and the way she is with me, told me a different story.

  I know she said those things to Susan to get the woman off our backs. Susan can be a handful, at the best of times. Dana’s words stung, though, and I don’t know what to make of them. I don’t know how much what she said is true. Dana is open and honest with her mom about everything. Why would she lie about something like this, then?

  It doesn’t make sense to me.

  It bothers me that Dana wants to keep it casual and private. It’s not what I want. I want to be serious. I want to get into a relationship with her, date her, spoil her, and go the full mile. I want it all. When I date, I’m the kind of man that will dote on his woman. I can’t do it if we’re restricted to the apartment. We barely spend time here as it is.

  I turn onto my side, trying to get comfortable. Tonight, the sheets scratch against my skin. I’m irritated and horny. After everything, including the emotional upset, my body still has needs. And it wants Dana. I want Dana.

  My cock grows hard when I think about her, and I move around in bed, turning and turning again to get comfortable. I lift my head and look at the clock again. It’s three in the morning. I don’t know how much sleep I got in. Most of it was so light, I don’t think it counts. Still, I’m not tired. I’m wide awake and I have only one thing on my mind.

  In my mind’s eye, I flash on the image that is now my favorite. Dana crouching in front of me, my cock in her mouth and those big blue eyes staring up at me. I palm my dick and move my hand up and down. It’s the motion I have done for years to the thoughts of Dana doing something like that to me.

  It’s just not the same. I can’t jack off to my fantasies about her, now that I’ve had the real deal. I can’t do it with her just down the hallway, sleeping in the next room.

  I roll over again, frustrated. My cock throbs, and my balls hurt like I’m sexually frustrated. You wouldn’t think I’d had the best orgasm of my life just two nights ago.

  I close my eyes and conjure up more images of Dana’s body. Her curves, her breasts, her nipples. Her pussy. I lick my lips, and I realize how hungry I am. Hungry for her body.

  I get out of bed. I’m only wearing boxer shorts. My cock strains against them, pushing the elastic away from my body so I can see right into my shorts.

  I creep down the hallway, silent as the dead. Moonlight falls into a window with open blinds and lights my way. I put my hand on Dana’s doorknob and swallow before I carefully turn it. The door opens without a sound. I let myself in and close the door again.

  She hasn’t drawn her curtain, and the moonlight lights up her room more than enough for me to see by.

  Dana is curled on her side, her covers tucked around her waist. She’s small in the middle of the double bed. I get into bed next to her. The mattress dips under my weight. I lie behind her.

  I can hear my heart beating in my ears. I don’t usually do things like this, but Dana’s forward attitude the other night makes me confident that I can get away with this.

  I reach for her and turn her gently. She shifts in her sleep, laying on her back. She stretches her leg down, the other still pulled up. Her breasts are flatter on her chest without a bra and with her on her back. I put my hand on her breast and massage it, rubbing my thumb in circles over her nipple through the material of her t-shirt. She sighs in her sleep. Her nipple responds to my touch and hardens beneath my fingers.

  I slide my hand down her body, over her ribs, her flat stomach and then her hips. When I reach the hem of her shirt I tug it up. She’s wearing French cut panties, and they look fantastic on her. I tug them down a little and push my hand between her legs.

  She moans when I open her lips and push my finger into her slit. She’s not as wet as she usually is. I pull up her shirt even further with my other hand, balancing uncomfortably on my elbow, and take a nipple into my mouth. I suck her nipple and stroke her clit, drawing slow circles. She gets wet as I go along, and she starts moaning. Her breathing speeds up, even though she’s still asleep.

  When she’s wet enough, I push my finger into her and pump it in and out, as much as her panties will allow. My cock aches with desire, but I won’t fuck her while she’s sleeping. Finger fucking is plenty.

  She moans a little louder and opens her eyes. She looks at me, her face confused for a moment. Her eyes close for a second again as she relishes the feel of my hand between her legs, and a smile spreads across her face.

  When she opens her eyes again, she looks at me and shakes her head.

  “You’re being naughty,” she whispers.

  We’re alone in the apartment, but something about the quality of the night makes us both stay quiet. I keep fingering her. She moves her panties down, pulling them off. She pulls her shirt up and over her head, and then she’s naked, bathing in a pool of moonlight, no sign of self-consciousness at all.

  She rolls against me, and my erection presses against her stomach. She frowns and looks down.

  “Looks like someone wants attention,” she says.

  She takes my hand and removes it from between her legs. She kisses me before she pushes me to lie on my back and moves down my body. God, I know where this is going, and I couldn’t be happier. I’ve been in her mouth before, and the anticipation alone gets me hot and bothered.

  She peels my boxers away, and my cock springs free. Her hand wraps around the shaft, and a moment later, her lips close around my cock. I close my eyes and give myself over to the feeling. She bobs her head up and down on my cock, taking me into her mouth the way she did at first in the bathtub. She closes the rest of the distance with her hand. I don’t think she’s at the right angle to deep throat me, but I’m not complaining.

  She’s fantastic at sucking me off.

  I’m getting closer and closer. My worked-up state already gave me a head start. When I look at her, glancing down my body, I nearly come immediately. She’s sitting on my legs, her hair brushing against my thighs every time she moves down, and I can see my cock sliding in and out of her mouth, glistening with her spit.

  “I don’t want to come yet,” I say, reaching down and stroking her hair.

  She slows down her pace and sucks me slowly a few times before she lets me go. I exit her mouth with a pop.

  “What do you want?” she asks me, the way I asked her before. Her voice is almost a whisper and seductive as hell in the darkness.

  “I want to fuck you,” I say. “But first, I want to taste you, too. Fair is fair. A good blow job deserves a return.”

  She smiles, but she shakes her head.

  “I don’t mind,” she says.

  I sit up and take her by the arms, pulling her toward me.

  “I do,” I say and I turn her, laying her down on her back.

  She doesn’t fight me. I push her legs open and dive between them, finding her pussy. I lap at it with my tongue, and she shivers. I lick at her like a lollipop, flattening my tongue and drawing it over her lips, from her entrance to her clit. She gasps.

  I don’t want her to come, either. Not yet. I want her to experience pleasure, anticipation, desperation. The same emotions I’m feeling.

  I start licking her clit, flicking my tongue over it. Every now and then, I slide my tongue
to her entrance and tongue fuck her a little. I can’t go very deep, but I know the sensation is different because it’s my tongue. Her moans and whimpers let me know I’m right.

  I close my lips over her clit and suck. She squirms beneath me. I press my hand down on her hips so she will lie still. I push a finger into her, sliding in and out slowly. I don’t want her to orgasm. I want her just on the edge.

  Her moans get louder, her body shudders, and I know she’s getting close. I stop sucking on her and flick my tongue over her clit again. She jerks. Her scent is in my nose, covering my face, on my fingers, and it’s driving me crazy. I want her so badly. My cock throbs, and my resolve to make her wait for it is disappearing. I want to give in myself.

  When I can’t bear it anymore, I stop. She moans in protest. I love it when she does. It makes me feel like I’m still in control. Even though I’m barely holding onto it.

  “Bend over,” I command.

  Dana sighs, and it sounds like one of pleasure. She rolls onto her stomach and pushes up on all fours. Her ass points at me, and she’s ready for me. She waits patiently as I admire her ass and her glistening pussy. I run my hands over her back and her ass, worshiping her body. She’s beautiful.

  Dana

  I’m on all fours on the bed, putting myself on display for Keagan. His eyes are on me, and I can imagine the look on his face without looking over my shoulder to confirm it.

  His face will be riddled with lust, already devouring me with his eyes. I stay like this, letting him look at me, letting him build up his desire for me until it’s unbearable.

  I like it when he looks at me like that. It makes me feel sexy. It makes me feel like I have power over him, rendering him useless until he gets what he needs.

  Sex is a game of give and take. So far, we’ve been sticking to the rules and playing fairly. Keagan seems to like control, to like it rough. I want to see that side of him.

  When he tells me what to do, I listen. When he asks for my body, I give it to him. And when he takes what he wants, I show him that I like it by moaning louder and gasping. Men are instinct driven, and sounds push them forward.

  I don’t have to try very hard to make those sounds, either. Keagan works magic with his hands. And his tongue. And his cock.

  The anticipation is driving me crazy. My skin tingles with my eagerness for his touch. My core tightens. My body is ready for what he wants to do to me. I take a deep breath and blow it out with a shudder. I try to picture us. Me on my hands and knees, ready for him. Keagan behind me, with his cock hard, his eyes drinking in my naked body.

  It’s hot as hell.

  Keagan shifts on the bed. The mattress dips as he moves and puts his hands on my hips. I love it when he does this, when he guides me where he needs me. I know he’s positioning himself, lining himself up to plunge into me. I want it. My body yearns for it.

  I thought he was angry or disappointed with me when we came home. He was sulky and sullen and barely speaking to me. Keagan in a bad mood isn’t pretty, and I’ve known it for as long as I’ve known him.

  But it turns out, he’s over his little fit. He might have slept it off. Maybe he’s restored his own ego. Whatever it is, he’s here now. He wants me, too.

  When his cock pushes against my entrance, I hold my breath. I shiver and wait for him to slide into me. His cock pushes my walls apart, making a way for itself until he’s buried to the hilt. He’s large, filling me up. I move my hips, relishing the feel of him.

  He’s hard and smooth, all at the same time. I shudder. The feeling of his cock inside of me is pure bliss. I gasp when he pulls out again, almost all the way, then shoves himself back inside me.

  “Is this what you wanted?” he asks into the dark.

  I nod. He knows it is. I don’t have to answer him. Whatever happens between us when we’re not fucking, whatever we disagree about or feel for each other, it all falls away when our clothes come off. I like that we are just ourselves, that the only things that matter are bliss and pleasure and ecstasy.

  He starts fucking me, harder and faster. His cock drives in and out of me. I tip my head back and moan. He’s going deeper and deeper. My body rocks back and forth, and my breasts swing freely. His balls slap against my pussy, and I jerk now and then when he nails my clit. The sensation is exactly what I’ve been waiting for. I moan and cry out and let the sensations sweep me away.

  “Fuck, Dana,” Keagan says with a grunt. “I love your pussy.”

  His words are dirty, and I love them.

  “I love your cock,” I reply, but the words leave in bursts of air, in time with his fucking. “I love it when you fuck me like this.”

  Keagan groans when I talk dirty back to him, saying the same kind of things. There’s something about talking dirty that heightens everything. For a while, all I hear is our moans, my cries, his balls slapping my pussy, and the squelching that comes with sex.

  The room smells like sex, too, a mixture of my arousal and his masculine scent. And I love it. Keagan reaches around my hips and finds my clit with his fingers. He rubs it roughly. The sensation, although crude, creates more pleasure. An orgasm starts building at my core. If he keeps going like this, I’m going to spontaneously combust.

  My arms start giving out. My body goes numb when I get closer and closer. I lay myself down so that my chest is on the bed. My body slopes up to my ass, still in the air.

  Keagan lets go of my clit all too soon and leans forward, his hips pumping relentlessly. He touches my cheek with his hand, and his fingers graze my lips. I turn my head and take a finger into my mouth, sucking while he hammers into me from behind. He groans. The finger in my mouth is erotic. The more parts of my body he engages, the more I enjoy it. When he uses me for his pleasure, it gives me pleasure, too.

  He doesn’t keep this up for every long, either. It’s like he’s searching for something that will tickle his fancy, something that will push him over the edge. He can keep searching. The sex is great, and whatever he does, it pushes me further to the edge.

  Keagan’s hand slides over my hair. He pushes his hand into my hair and closes his fist, grabbing a handful of hair. When he pulls, it doesn’t hurt. He’s got enough hair in his fist. He tips my head back without me being able to stop it.

  With my head back, I’m forced to arch my back and stick my ass out farther. My body is pulled into position, and Keagan uses my hair as leverage to fuck me harder and harder until I’m crying out.

  I can’t lie down anymore, my body back in the proper doggy style position. He runs his other hand over my back, my ribs, my hips, caressing me. His name and other words tumble out of my mouth. I like it rough. I’ve never had it rough before, and Keagan is showing me what it can be like. He’s taking what he wants. I want him to take more.

  Keagan seems to know what I want. He pounds into me harder and harder. I arch my back as far as I can, his grip on my hair tight and unrelenting. I close my eyes and let the wave of ecstasy consume me.

  When he’s had enough, he lets got of my hair. I lean forward, gasping. He pulls out, and I feel his absence acutely. He runs his hands over my hips before he grips me. He flips me over, and I land on the springy mattress, rolling over so that I’m on my back.

  Keagan’s face is tight with concentration. He looks serious. Keagan takes my legs, hands on my shins, and he holds them together. He puts them up against his chest and over one shoulder. I’m pressed against him.

  I look at him, breathing hard. There is hunger in his eyes and something primal. My ass is lifted off the mattress enough for him to reach me, and he guides himself with his hand, pushing into me.

  I groan and feel him plunge deeper than before.

  He pumps in and out of me slowly a few times. It’s for my benefit, I’m sure. So I can get used to him. Then he picks up his pace. He goes in so deep it almost hurts, but it’s a good pain, and I clench my jaw and cry out.

  My moans erupt in the rhythm Keagan has adopted. He pounds into me hard and fast, h
olding onto my legs, keeping me there. I splay my arms to the sides to steady myself on the bed. My breasts jiggle, and my breathing is fast and shallow.

  Keagan is moaning and groaning, too. His lips are parted, and his eyes are on me, sliding over my body, taking in the sight of me, naked, legs up in the air. I close my eyes and give myself over. I focus on his cock, stroking over my G-spot. My orgasm builds again. Keagan has a way of postponing my orgasms, drawing them out, building them bigger and bigger, until they shatter me when they finally happen.

  It drives me crazy every time with lust and desperation, but the orgasms are so intense, I don’t want him to do it any differently.

  He’s doing it again now, building another orgasm. I don’t doubt that I’ll be denied a release for a while longer still. I can see it in his eyes, feel it in the way he fucks me. We’re not close to finished.

  The sex is intense. Darkness wraps around us, except for the silver moonlight. The night has a quality to it that’s different than before. Everything feels surreal. I’m caught in a dream where I’m living with Keagan, the man who I’ve grown up with as my stepbrother, and we’re fucking. It doesn’t make sense, but we’re doing it, and I’m letting it happen because it feels so good.

  Being around him as often as I am feels so good. I have no idea where we stand. I don’t know what I feel, and I don’t know what he wants from me besides the obvious. I know that the sex is fucking good when we have it. For now, it’s all that matters. Right this minute, the pure pleasure trumps everything else. I will keep doing this, and only this, if that’s what it comes down to.

  I can’t think rationally about anything when I’m having the best sex ever, and I can’t be real about anything when I’m on the edge of a mind-blowing orgasm. I push the thoughts away. I stop thinking and allow myself to just feel.

  I focus on the feeling of his cock pounding in and out of me, his hands wrapped around my legs, his eyes on my body.

  Keagan is grunting and groaning. His tongue darts out to lick his lips, and he has a look of concentration on his face. It’s endearing when he gets this serious about it.