Sweet Seduction Sayonara

by Nicola Claire

  Instead I say, “Lean forward and press your tits against the glass.”

  She moans as the chill from the window meets her nipples.

  “Rub them back and forth. Let that guy over there in his office see your beautiful boobs, baby.”

  She makes a whimpering sound, it’s low and throaty and fucking sexy.

  “Press your cheek to the glass, too,” I say, running my free palm over her bare arse and then slipping a finger down between the crack in her butt cheeks, shifting the thong to the side.

  “Do me,” she orders.

  “I’ll fuck you when I’m good and ready,” I say. “Play with yourself.”

  “Drew,” she complains. I swat at her arse. She gasps, her breasts pressing up against the glass harder. A moan follows.

  And then she lowers a hand, slips it under her dress, and starts fingering herself.

  Nice.

  “Are you getting off, Kelly?” I ask.

  “Yes.”

  “Is it red yet, baby?”

  “Need you.”

  “Need me to what?”

  “Fuck me.”

  I chuckle. Of course she does.

  “You want that guy to see you getting fucked by your husband, yeah?”

  “Yes,” she says, panting, rocking against her fingers and my cock, misting up the glass of my office window.

  Who am I to deny her?

  “All right, then,” I say, gripping her hip and tilting her arse toward me. “Hands back on the glass. I want you looking directly at that office worker over there. Willing him to look up and see you taking it hard.”

  “Yes,” she hisses enthusiastically. Her slick fingers coat the window with her juices, making her hand slip when she goes to rest it there. But then she catches herself, bracing for my first thrust.

  I undo my belt, unzip my pants, and fish out my cock, stroking it while I watch Kelly writhe with anticipation before me. She’s panting, mewling, making all manner of sounds that should anyone else be in the office this late on a Friday, they’d be able to hear what my little wanton wife desires.

  “Is this what you wanted when you told me you’d suck me off at Sweet Seduction?” I ask, pressing the tip of my dick against her folds.

  She smirks. I smile. God, I love this woman. No man could have it better than this. A wife so hot she begs me to take her every morning. And then teases me for the rest of the day, until I repeat the act. She’s always horny. But lately, she’s been hornier than usual. Swinging by my office in the middle of the day, giving me a blow-job at my desk.

  My secretary walked in on us yesterday. Kelly was kneeling out of sight on the floor, between my spread thighs, under my desk. She sucked particularly vigorously while Marjorie went over my afternoon schedule.

  I grip her hip now, and thrust into her hard. She screams out my name, fists her hands against the window, and arches back to meet every rock of my hips, every glide of my cock deep inside. She’s hot and wet and squeezes me in a tight grasp, her pussy clenching and unclenching and driving me wild.

  “Like this?” I say, panting on each possessive thrust.

  “Faster,” she orders.

  “So keen to get to the opera?”

  “I want you as mad for me as I am for you,” she gasps.

  “Sternchen,” I murmur, lowering my face to her bare shoulder and offering an open mouthed kiss. “I can’t get enough of you. I’m lost to you. You’re my everything.”

  “Drew,” she says softly. Then, “I think he’s spotted us.”

  I lift my eyes, but don’t remove my lips from her skin. I look across Queen Street, and sure enough, the guy in the office opposite has stopped working and is looking directly at us.

  It’s dark in here and bright out there; I’m fairly positive he can only see shadows. But ADK owns this entire building, and everyone knows our offices are on the top floor. He’ll either think it’s one of my partners or associates, or he knows our floorpan and puts it together.

  “Do you think he knows it’s you and me?” I say, continuing to thrust into her slowly.

  She just bites her lip, reaching up and playing with her nipple, and then lets her head roll back, exposing her neck, moaning loudly.

  I smile against her feverish skin, and nibble my way up her neck to her ear. My hand at her throat shifts down over her collarbone, and wraps around her free breast. I cup it up further, as I pump into her hot sheath from behind, and then tweak her nipple in a way that, should that guy have superhuman night vision, he could see Kelly getting off on my touch.

  “Fuck,” she says, moving again, rocking back to greet me.

  Yes, fuck. Fan-fucking-tastic fuck! I get off on this as much as Kelly. She’s made for me. She’s perfect in every possible way. There is nothing I would change about my wife. Not a thing. I love her zest for life. I love her adventurous spirit. I love the way she embraces living. Tries everything. Never says no to something new and exciting.

  My world has never been so full of love and laughter. So full of colour. But the illicit hook-ups we plan and play out are just a mere part of what makes us… us. The rest is deep inside. Ours alone. Our love for each other. Our desire for each other. Our complete and utter understanding of each other.

  Kelly is my everything. She is more than just my wife. More than just the mother of my child. She is a part of me. Buried so deep, I sometimes can’t tell where I end and she begins.

  I pull out, both of us sweating and panting, gasping at the separation. But I don’t stay away for long. I never can. Kelly’s body calls to me like a siren. I spin her around to face me, she’s flushed and bright, her eyes shining, her cheeks pinked. She is spectacular. Kelly is a stunning woman at the best of times, but when I’m fucking her… she is wild and alive and electric and addictive and utterly, completely, entirely ravishing.

  I grip the hem of her skirt and thrust it up over her bare arse, and then lift her up, wrapping her legs around my waist, as I thrust back into her. Her back hits the glass. The danger is not only in the guy across the street seeing her bare cheeks pressed up against it, but whether or not the fucking thing will hold.

  And then I make love to my wife. Hard, fast, frantic, no holds bared, bare and dirty, filthy, glorious sex.

  “Yes! Yes! Yes!” Kelly screams as she comes apart in my arms.

  Fan-fucking-tastic!

  I look at her. Not the guy watching. I look down at my wife and feel my heart almost explode with wonder. She picked me. Me. Over everyone else. And Kelly had her choice of lovers. But she picked me.

  And every day I thank God that she did.

  “Drew,” she says, staring up at me from under hooded lids. I’m fucking her hard, so when she speaks, her words come out between little grunts and gasps. “Fuck, I love you,” she says.

  I groan. I can’t talk. I’m so fucking close. And I think that guy across the street has got binoculars on us.

  “Baby,” she says, holding on and rocking back against each bump and grind of my cock. “You feel so good.”

  So does she. Fuck, so does she. I’m going to come hard.

  “Guess what?” she says between harsh breaths.

  What? She wants a conversation now? I don’t slow down, I just suck on the side of her neck and keep thrusting. I’m so fucking close.

  “I’m pregnant.”

  Fuck! I spill myself inside her and the orgasm just keeps coming as I bite down on her shoulder and groan out so fucking loud, I swear the entire building hears it.

  Several seconds pass as I catch my breath and my heart stops pounding.

  Then I pull back, look down at Kelly’s sweat dampened face, and say, “What?”

  She smirks up at me, then runs a hand down my chest, inside my shirt, venturing even lower.

  “I’m going to be extra horny for the next eight months,” she says in a purr.

  I arch my brow and feel my cock hardening again inside her.

  “Then, I guess we better get started.”

&nb
sp; She smiles and gasps as I start rocking again, and then I’m spinning her around and lying her down on my desk, and making her moan loud and long.

  I don’t look back across the street again. I just take in my beautiful wife.

  And make our world red.

  Chapter 15

  And She Doesn’t Say No

  Finn

  The office is dark, but everyone at Sweet Seduction said Drew was here with Kelly. I walk through the reception area and head toward his door. Within a few feet of it, I can tell they’re screwing. I run a hand through my hair in frustration, feeling awkward and entirely too embarrassed.

  Ten long minutes later, I hear the tap running in Drew’s attached bathroom. I wait an extra minute, counting to sixty slowly inside my head, and then knock.

  I hear Kelly giggling first, and then the door finally opens and Drew stands there in a dinner suit, looking immaculate. They’ve had a lot of practice at covering their tracks.

  “Hey,” he says. “What brings you here?”

  He opens the door and steps to the side. I nod my head at Kelly, who’s sitting on Drew’s desk in a sexy as fuck slinky dress. She offers a smile and a wave, and looks extremely impressed with herself. Or the situation.

  Dom and I have long ago decided to pretend we see nothing. Hear nothing. Know nothing.

  “I need to ask you something,” I say, moving into the room and into the light.

  “Well your timing couldn’t have been more perfect,” Drew says, sounding pleased with himself. “We’ve just…”

  His sentence hangs in the air as Koki Tanaka follows me into the room.

  “What’s wrong with your face?” Kelly asks, perhaps before she sees Koki behind me. “Did you get in a fight?”

  She’s up and off the desk and reaching up to turn my cheek into the light in the next heartbeat. Now she does not look impressed.

  “Motherfucker!” she says. “Who was it? I’ll beat the fucking shit out of them.”

  Kelly is very protective of her friends.

  Koki clears his throat from behind me.

  Kelly stills and narrows her eyes at him.

  “You know about this, Tanaka?” she demands. Drew smirks, slipping his hands into his trouser pockets and watching, amused, as his little momma-bear extends her claws.

  “He did it,” I say, dropping the fucker in it as soon as I can.

  “You deserved it,” Koki immediately replies. I’m not sure he believes that; it’s all part of the front he puts on. Why else did he stay after his father and Tadashi stole Momo from my bedroom? From me. Why else did I wake up with a packet of frozen peas on my jaw and Koki standing over me?

  “What the fuck?” both Drew and Kelly say.

  “It’s a long story,” I offer. “That’s why we’re here. We need your help.”

  Drew steps forward immediately and rounds his desk, taking a seat; his attentive, business face on.

  “Whatever you need, my man,” he says.

  Kelly fusses a little longer over my bruise, but eventually rounds the side of Drew’s desk and perches next to him. I take one of the chairs in front of them, Koki reluctantly slides into the other. But he’s tense. His eyes darting from one shadowed corner to another. His shoulders bunched, brow low.

  He looks lethal. And highly strung.

  Koki has always appeared highly strung to me, but this… this is different. He’s borderline psychotic with anger.

  And I’m pretty sure it’s not anger at me sleeping with his sister. Which is a surprise.

  “What’s going on?” Drew asks. “And before you say anything, know that Dom has been worried, too. We both have. You know we’re always here for you.”

  Having gotten his little reprimand out of the way, I man up. I tell him about Momoko and the Triad thugs last Friday. I tell him everything, aside from falling in love with the woman and having mad monkey sex whenever we get together, that’s happened in the last week.

  Silence fills the office air afterwards. Koki just glowers sullenly.

  “OK,” Drew says, dragging the word out. “What do you need?”

  I turn and look at Koki. He doesn’t meet my expectant gaze. He says nothing. Jaw clenched shut. Hands fisted on thick thighs.

  I look back at Drew and Kelly. “She’s being coerced,” I begin by saying.

  “In what way?” Drew asks, and then holds up a hand to stop the diatribe I’m about to unleash at him. “Bear in mind that she’s an adult. Completely compos mentis. And can say no at any time she so wishes.”

  I open my mouth, but Koki beats me.

  “She cannot say no to our father.”

  We all stare at him.

  Kelly’s the one to break the silence. “Why not?”

  “It’s dishonourable,” he simply says.

  “I call bullshit on that,” Kelly exclaims. I’m with her on this one.

  “That’s ridiculous,” I announce. “He’s strong arming her, sure. But he’s not got her shackled. What’s he threatening her with that has her playing along with this farce?”

  “He doesn’t need to threaten,” Koki explains. “It’s how we’ve been raised.”

  “She’s an intelligent, independent business woman,” I argue. “I can’t see her not fighting this.”

  “She’s fought it,” Koki advises. “But our father is persuasive.”

  “She doesn’t love Tadashi,” I point out. Hell, no. She loves me. I know this as surely as I know without her, I cannot breathe.

  Koki sighs, but doesn’t speak. He almost looks defeated.

  “OK,” Drew says into the burgeoning silence. “Let’s look at this logically. Legally,” he adds. “Unless her life is being threatened by her father, there is little the New Zealand courts can do. You know this, Finn. She may not want to marry this Tadashi character, but for all intents and purposes, she’s not physically being forced. She could walk away. The legal system would just assume, because she isn’t walking, that she’s agreeable to the marriage.”

  “It’s blackmail,” I argue heatedly.

  “But is it blackmail you can prove?”

  I can’t. My word alone is not enough. And although Koki agreed to come here to discuss legal options for getting his sister out of this fucking mess, I don’t think he would go against his father.

  Tanaka-sama rules his children with an iron fist.

  I look at Koki now and wonder if there’s more to this. He’s a highly capable man. Completely badass. Totally in control of his professional life and, I had thought, his life in general. He’s one of Nick’s best men. Silent. Lethal. A fucking ninja on a motorbike. I don’t get this. My father was strict with us growing up, but a tyrant? Never. He gave us love as well as guidance. Direction as well as a shoulder to lean on.

  The Tanaka family dynamics make no sense. At least, they make no sense to me.

  I shift my focus back to Drew and slowly shake my head. “Neither Momo or Koki will speak up.”

  Koki doesn’t even bat an eyelash at my statement. Therefore, I can only assume it is correct.

  “I don’t know what to tell you, Finn,” Drew says softly. “This is their fight.”

  “It’s mine. It’s my fight,” I say. Drew just stares at me. “I love her,” I blurt.

  Koki shifts in his seat but remains silent.

  “She loves me,” I add. “It’s my fight, too, now.”

  “Fuck,” Drew whispers, reaching out and clasping Kelly’s hand. I’m not even sure he knows he’s doing it. It’s a knee-jerk reaction to my impossible situation. He’s picturing not being able to claim Kelly as his wife. As his woman. As his.

  I rub at my chest, feeling an ache start to build inside me. It won’t go away and I’m scared it’s going to grow so big, it’ll consume me. I ache for her. I ache for us. I fucking don’t understand why this is happening.

  I get up and start pacing, running frantic hands through my short hair.

  “Maybe you should run,” Kelly says quietly.

 
I stop pacing and turn to look at her.

  “You know,” she says. “Grab her and go. Far away from here. Where her father can’t reach her.” She turns a frosty glare on Koki. “Would she do it? Could she do it?”

  Koki stares back at her, his eyes hard. “It would be dishonourable,” he finally says, but I notice he hasn’t denied it either.

  “And is kowtowing to someone else’s deranged demands not dishonourable to herself?” I ask him.

  He sighs. Then leans forward and rests his elbows on his spread thighs. “You have to understand Japanese culture,” he says. “Everything we do is for the honour of our family. Our people. Ourselves. Bushidō,” he says. “Honour until death. We live in a world where sacrifice matters. Where appearances are more important than fact. Shame. Guilt. Ostracism. Control. It is what we are. It is what makes us strong. What makes our families strong. Our minds strong. Our hearts strong. We are strong because we honour our fathers. We honour them until death.”

  There’s not much I can say to that. It’s ingrained in him, that much is obvious. But it also chafes. I’m thinking Koki Tanaka would dearly love to break free, but he is too much his father’s son.

  Too much a son of honour.

  “Hasn’t there ever been,” I say quietly, “something that you’ve wanted that your father has denied you? Something precious. Something you don’t think is possible to live without. Something your sense of honour has stolen from your life.”

  He lifts dark eyes to my face and holds my accusatory stare.

  “You know nothing, Finn Drake,” he eventually says and then looks away again.

  I won’t give up. I can’t. It’s not in my genetics. Maybe it’s not in his to deny his father’s wishes. Not in Momo’s either. But I can’t stop trying. And for now, Koki is my only hope.

  “What about your father?” I say. “Was it honourable for him to leave the Yakuza?”

  Kelly sucks in a breath of air. Perhaps I didn’t divulge everything that’s happened this week.

  “He had no choice,” Koki says.

  “Did they boot him out? Has he been dishonoured and that’s why he’s so hell bent on making you both pay?” Because sure as shit, Koki is paying for their father’s tyranny as well. I don’t know how. But it’s written all over his face.