by Mia Caldwell
She had given her permission, but in that moment it would not have mattered either way. She was going to be mine. I was going to be her first, the standard by which she would measure all her other lovers. I intended to make them all pale in comparison.
"Lean back," I ordered. She obeyed, leaning back on her elbows so that her perfectly heavy breasts jutted toward the ceiling. Their caramel perfection distracted me from my goal for just a moment, and I allowed myself one healthy squeeze before I knelt before her.
The glistening flesh of her untouched pussy beckoned me like a lighthouse. I gently spread the delicate folds, exposing the hot, wetness to the cool air. She made a small, kittenish yelp as I bent my head to her.
The first lick was for me. Just a taste, to let the sweetness flood my mouth. My cock throbbed painfully as the nectar hit my tongue. "God, you taste good. Just as sweet as you look."
Her only answer was a stifled moan. She was still holding back. I couldn't have that.
I flattened my tongue along the whole of her sex, lapping slowly from the base of her puckered opening all the way up to that hooded nub. Her stifled moan became louder as she squirmed under me. I kneaded the flesh of her thighs, pinning her in place so that she was completely at my mercy as I swirled my tongue along her untouched opening, priming it expertly before moving back upward. I concentrated on that buzzing little nub for a moment, delighting in the way her hips moved in time with my strokes. Her breath was coming faster now, short little panting gasps that let me know what she needed.
A flood of wetness poured over my tongue and I knew she was ready for the next step. Still concentrating the whole of my tongue's ministrations on her clit, I drew my index finger along her folds. At first I just let it dip into her, just to let her get used to my presence there. She bore down, inviting me inside.
Then I plunged my finger inside of her and hooked it forward, catching the spongy flesh of her G-spot as I flicked my tongue over her clit.
"Fuck!" she swore as her spontaneous, uninhibited orgasm nearly lifted her from the desk. She surged upward, pressing herself into me as she ground out her ecstasy into my eager face. I kept at her, not allowing her a moment's rest and as the second orgasm pulsed against my finger, I slipped a second one inside of her, stretching her opening, preparing her for her first time.
My sweet Nakia had turned into a wildcat. She bucked and hissed against me, wordless cries like the calls of an animal tore from her throat. I let another finger slide in almost by accident. She was so hot. She was so wet. She was so ready.
When I felt her ecstasy die away and she lay gasping back on the desk, I stood up. My cock was rigid in my hand. I stroked myself lazily as I let myself appreciate the sheen of her naked body.
"Jesus, Zachary," she cried.
Nakia
☼ ☼ ☼
He grinned a crooked grin and twined my hair in his fist. Yanking my head backward, he dove down to my exposed throat. I tumbled backward onto the floor. I knew what was happening. I was ready.
"Take me, Zachary. Do it now."
The head of his cock spread the lips of my pussy. He hovered there for a moment. Then he surged upward.
The sudden pain was nothing compared to the intense pleasure of being filled. Suddenly I was feeling places inside of me come alive, place that I had never knew even existed before this moment. I gasped to feel fullness where I had never knew there was emptiness.
As he began to move, I felt my own hips moving to accommodate him. I wanted more. I wanted him inside me. I wanted to feel him everywhere. The burning pain only intensified the pleasure.
"Ah!" I gasped.
When his mouth found mine, I grabbed for him desperately. His tongue swirled around mine; possessing my mouth like his cock possessed my pussy. I belonged to him; I was made for his pleasure. He thrust harder now, my whole body rocking forward with the power of his motion. I clutched his back, raking my nails into his flesh as he bore into me. Harder and harder he thrust. And the harder he took me, the greater the sensations I was feeling grew, until suddenly I felt something inside of me break wide open and I was falling and flying at the same time as the waves of pleasure crashed over me. His lips found my neck and he sank his teeth into my skin as he ground out his own stifled cry.
He pulled back, his face contorted in a mask of ecstasy.
I lay there under him for a long time, as long as I could. "Sir," I finally whispered.
"Hmm?" He sounded like he had fallen asleep, though I couldn't see how that was possible. It was just...his voice was so peaceful. I hated to disturb him.
"Sir, we have a meeting," I reminded him, peering over his shoulder at the clock on the wall. "Ten minutes."
"Cancel it," he murmured against my neck. "I'm taking you out tonight."
I felt giddy. "Okay," I laughed out loud.
"Go home and rest for the rest of the day, that's an order." I could hear the smile in his voice.
"Okay," I repeated. I certainly didn't feel sick any more, but I definitely felt sleepy as hell.
When Zach pulled away from me, I felt colder all of a sudden. Separating from him seemed almost impossible. But he was my boss and the rest of the company couldn't know what had just happened.
What had just happened....
The thought clanged in my mind like a bell, tolling over and over as I rode the elevator down to the main lobby. As I made for the door, August popped her head over the reception desk. "Heading home?" she asked brightly.
My tongue stumbled and I felt my cheeks flame. "Yeah," I muttered, and ran for the door before I could betray myself any further.
I reached my apartment, my head spinning over what had just happened. I had slept with my boss. And what's worse, I had lost my virginity to him. My body flamed when I remembered how eager I had been, how completely slutty and uninhibited. How was I ever going to work with him again? How would he ever take me seriously? How could I walk into work with my head held high, wondering if anyone had any idea what had happened? He was too old for me, too rich, too dominant. I was completely crazy for doing what I had done.
But it wasn't until I took off my work clothes to change into my pajamas that I remembered the real problem.
Zach hadn't used a condom.
Zach
☼ ☼ ☼
Dalton was standing in my doorway, staring at me for some reason. All I wanted to do was think about Nakia: Nakia's body, Nakia's lips, Nakia's little cries as our bodies came together. I didn't want to be looking at an aging, balding, football hero when I was busy thinking about Nakia.
"What?" I snapped.
"Have you sent Miss James home for the day?" Dalton asked, one eyebrow raised.
I gripped the handlebars of my chair tightly so as not to punch something. "Yes," I said shortly. "She was sick."
"Mmmhmm. "
Dalton's raised eyebrow was really starting to piss me off. "Was there something else you needed?" I barked at him, opening up a folder and staring daggers at it.
"No sir," he said smartly and turned on his heel.
I sighed and shook my head. He could be trusted, I told myself. Dalton Cole had kept his lips sealed when the tabloids had hounded him about Dana's affair. If he knew what Nakia and I had just done, I could rest assured that no one else would know.
I hoped.
I sighed again and rolled up my sleeves. Without Nakia here, I was completely lost about where we were with the licensing agreements. I looked at my phone, wondering if I should text her to meet me somewhere.
Then I shook my head. That seemed wrong. I wanted to take Nakia out. A night on the town, spoil her a bit. I wanted her to know she was more than just a workplace distraction for me.
It all fell into place at once, the way my best plans always do. I grabbed my phone and hastily tapped a message before I lost my nerve. The car will be waiting outside your place at seven, wear something nice.
Then I set my phone back down. Nakia would come through for me. She alway
s did.
Nakia
☼ ☼ ☼
"I should be working."
I said it out loud this time, hoping that if I spoke sternly enough, I might finally listen to myself and stop lying here in my bed, huddled under the covers.
But for once in my life, sleep seemed more important than work. I needed to rest, and what's more, I really needed the peace that would come from a few hours of not thinking about Zachary Kingsley.
"Okay Kia, you can go to sleep now."
I said this out loud too. But it seemed like the minute I made up my mind to take a nap, I snapped wide awake again.
I rolled over, frustrated by everything. Every time I relaxed enough to let sleep overtake me, I jerked awake again, the memory of what had just happened repeatedly battering around in my head. "Dammit," I moaned, pulling my cool pillow over my overheated head. "I am so fucked."
Somehow it felt better to hold the pillow over my face. Like it was a barrier that nothing could get by. Gradually my heart rate slowed and I relaxed.
Then my phone nearly buzzed off of my nightstand.
My eyes flew open and I sat up in bed, my heart racing once more. For a moment, the edges of my sight dimmed and my head swirled dangerously. I had to blink several times before I could see straight.
When I saw Zach's number, the tears came unbidden, gathering in my eyes and obscuring the words on the screen. I hurriedly knuckled them away, pissed at myself for being so weak.
When I saw what he had written, I gasped and quickly flung it to the floor.
The car will be waiting outside your place at seven, wear something nice.
Was he insane? Was I insane for even considering it? Were we both completely nuts and that was why we had just had sex in his office like something out of a movie? That was the only explanation I could come up with, because nothing else made sense. I was twenty years old last month. He was in his late thirties at least. I was born poor, raised poor and continued to struggle. He was richer than God.
Besides… He was an experienced man of the world, already married and divorced.
I had only just lost my virginity.
To him.
There was no way in hell this could possibly work.
I felt a twinge of pain and looked down to see that I was gripping my leg so hard that my fingernails were digging little half moons into my skin. Next to my finger was a little mark, tiny little pinpricks of blood beneath the skin.
A mark from his finger from where they had delved into my thighs as he lavished his attention on my shivering clit.
Fuck.
I sat bolt upright. Sleeping wasn't going to work. There was no way I was ever going to be able to be able to sleep again until I handled this. "If something's worth doing, it's worth doing right," I chanted to myself as I fired up my wheezing laptop.
And I had done absolutely everything wrong.
When I had finished the letter and cajoled my balky printer into actually printing something legible for a change, I stood back up again. The edges of my sight dimmed for a moment, and I sat dizzily back down on my bed. I had been so intent on what I had to do that I hadn't even noticed the dull aches settling into my joints. Feverish prickles ran up and down my skin. Hurriedly, I gulped down some water and grabbed the paper from my printer tray.
"You have to do this," I told my reflection, trying to ignore just how heartbroken the girl who looked back at me appeared. I tried wearing my mother's scowl, but only succeeded in making my lips quiver. "You need to do this right."
The walk back to the Kingsley Building might have taken a second, or it could have taken a year. My head felt like it was floating off of my shoulders by the time I made it into the overly air conditioned lobby.
"Kia." August's voice was strangely tight.
"Hey there November," I croaked, trying to smile. She smiled back, but it didn't meet her eyes.
I slid the envelope over the desk. "Can you make sure this makes it to Mr. Kingsley?"
She eyed it without reaching for it. "You're not going up there yourself? That's surprising."
If I had felt better, I would have asked her what she was getting at. Each word dripped out of her mouth laced with meaning. But I felt too shitty to spend any more time on my feet. "No, I'm not. Thanks, girl."
I turned to wobble out the front door. The blood was rushing in my ears, but underneath it I swore I could hear a small exhalation.
"Gold-digging bitch."
Zach
☼ ☼ ☼
It was right there in front of me. Right there in black and white. But I refused to accept it.
Instead, I set the letter of resignation on my desk and put my chipped coffee mug right over the offending words. If I didn't have to read them then they couldn’t be true.
I reached for my phone and pulled up Kia's number. "Call me," I texted rapidly, then thought again. "Please." I added, then paused, waiting for her to respond. "Kia, we need to talk about this," I wrote, trying to ignore how badly my hands were shaking. "Please don't quit."
I waited, watching the clock display. One minute went by, then two minutes. I stared at the phone as if I could will her to write back. Hot rage boiled up in my veins and I turned and threw my phone against the wall as hard as I could.
"Sir?" Dalton's bald head poked in the minute the resounding crash was over. He eyed my shattered phone, expressionless. "Shall I purchase you a new phone?" he said smoothly.
I sat back down in my chair, gripping the armrests tightly. "Yes," I answered tightly, before I buried my head in my hands. "And Dalton?"
"Yes sir?"
"Bring the car around, I have somewhere I need to go."
"Of course."
I grabbed my suitcoat and was almost out of the door when I stopped and remembered something. Turning, I rushed back to my cluttered desk, rifling anxiously through my papers until I finally found that random scrap written in Kia's bubbly script. Clutching it tightly, I rushed down to the lobby.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Kingsley," the girl behind the front desk....April or May or whatever her name was, sang out.
"Yeah," I grunted, rushing out the door the minute I spied my car being brought around.
I didn't want the driver. Even with the panicked lump that was threatening to close off my throat, I still maintained enough foresight to know that I needed to be alone. I didn't need to complicate Kia's life any further than I just had.
The address belonged to a building only a few blocks from mine. I don't know why that struck me the way it did. Suddenly I understood why Kia was always breathless when she arrived at the office.
She walked all the way here in those delicate, vintage shoes.
I slowed down, pulling over into an open space and peering at the building. There was a coffee shop at the main level, but just underneath it, off to the left, I could see a glass-blocked basement window. It was hung with a saffron curtain the same exact shade as the cardigan Kia was wearing on the first day I met her. In fact, I would wager money that it was cut from the same bolt of cloth.
Seeing that little blaze of color, that small artistry on display did something strange to my insides. I felt like my heart dropped straight into my stomach, splashing me with the simultaneous feelings of hope and dread. Because I knew without a doubt that this was where Nakia James was living.
But behind the saffron shade, the room was pitch dark. There was no one home.
I picked up the piece of paper again. I knew the address was correct, but she was not here. I had sent her several text messages, but she had not replied. And now?
Now I had no idea what to do next.
I didn't know what classes she took, I didn't know her friends. I didn't know where she liked to spend her time, what she enjoyed or really anything about her personal life.
With mounting shame, I pulled out into traffic, narrowly avoiding a delivery truck. The horn blared loudly, but it wasn't enough to drown out the noise of my own guilty conscience screaming at m
e.