by Parker Grey
"Tonight, you're doing the work," I say, relaxing further into the couch.
She bites her lip, smiling.
"Strip," I say.
Chapter Seventeen
Emmeline
I've never stripped for someone before. I don't really know how to do it so that it's sexy, but from the way Colton's looking at me, I have the feeling that I don't need a lot of finesse to make him enjoy it.
But still, I try to go slow. I undo one button at a time on my flannel work shirt, then slowly pull it off myself, tossing it onto the chair with my jacket.
I turn around, unhook my bra, my body heating up unimaginably. I can feel Colton's eyes on me, watching, practically devouring me as I remove my clothes, and God it feels good. The idea of being watched has never appealed to me before, but right now, I can't get enough.
I slide my bra down over my arms, covering my breasts with one arm, and look back at Colton, dangling it from my hand. He hasn't moved, but his cock is bulging in his pants, a huge mound underneath the denim that makes me soak my panties through instantly.
I toss my bra away. I sway back and forth, seductively, I hope. I unbutton my jeans, unzip them, and slide them and my panties down my legs, bending over to give Colton a good view of how wet he makes me just by watching.
Now I'm completely naked, wondering if I should have made my striptease last longer, but I'm too impatient and eager to wait that long. Colton's still watching, a deep hunger in his eyes. That's what gives me the courage to run my hands down my body, slowly, showing off for him.
I pinch my nipples, lifting my small breasts in my hands. I keep going, sliding my right hand between my legs until I reach my soaking wet slit, and I can feel how swollen with excitement I am.
He hasn't even touched me yet. Not for a few hours, at least.
"C'mere," Colton finally says.
I walk over. His hands are still behind his head, but he's controlling me without even touching me, and there's something incredibly hot about that, too. That even now, I'm under his command.
I straddle him, glancing down. His jeans are practically straining at the seams with the force of his erection, and the sight alone makes my breath catch in my throat.
Colton chuckles, his voice rough.
"You see something you like?" he asks.
I put my hands on his chest, sitting back on his thighs.
"Of course," I say, trying to tease him with a smile. "Can I undress you first?"
Something flashes in his eyes, like I've somehow said the magic words that unlock another, even rawer thing inside him.
"Yes," his says, his voice rasping.
I sit forward, my pussy almost against his jean-clad erection, and unbutton his shirt slowly, button by button. He doesn't move as I reveal his hard, muscled chest, running my hands down to the slight, furry trail that heads south from his navel.
God, I'm wet. I'm probably soaking through his jeans and onto his skin right now, I'm so wet for him, just from taking his shirt off.
I lean forward to kiss him, but he stops me, grabbing my shoulder hard.
I gasp in surprise.
"Ask first," he murmurs.
I lick my lips, looking him in the eyes, and suddenly I understand: even though I'm on top I'm not in control. I'm never in control.
"Can I kiss you?" I ask, my voice barely a whisper.
He smiles and takes his hand from my shoulder, putting it back behind his head.
"Yes," Colton says.
I kiss him fiercely, his tongue in my mouth. I don't mean to, but I grind myself against him, the delicious friction of his jeans against me driving me completely wild.
When I pull away, I drag my mouth across the stubble of his chin to his ear and lick the outside delicately. I'm not sure what I'm doing, but from the way he growls at me, I think it's good.
"Can I take your pants off?" I whisper, letting my lips brush his ear.
"Yes," he says, his voice half a groan.
I undo his belt and slide his zipper down, forcing myself to go slow, almost one tooth at a time. I can't believe how hot it is to do this, to ask his permission, while I'm already completely naked and he's in charge, still clothed.
"Can I touch your cock?" I murmur into his ear.
It's right there, taunting me, but I need to hear him say yes first.
"Yes," he says.
I slide my hand through the hole in his boxers and wrap my fist around it, pumping him from root to tip, my mouth still against his ear. I bite my lip and whimper, my whole body quivering with pure, unadulterated desire.
I want to fuck him, right here, this instant, but I make myself keep stroking him, trying to keep my crazy libido in check. He makes me feel so good, all the time, that I want to do something for him.
"Colton," I say, still into his ear, practically moaning by now. "Can I please suck your cock?"
There's a quick hitch in his breathing, and then he runs one hand down my back from my shoulder blade to my ass, and he chuckles.
"Yes," he says.
I kiss his throat, then his shoulder, and then I'm sliding ungracefully off the couch and landing on my knees. I pull his pants the rest of the way off and lean over him, his legs on either side of me, and take his cock by the base.
Then I suck the thick, bulbous head into my mouth and he groans. I know I'm not very good at this — I've gotten to third base before, but not much — but I suck and lick at the head, pushing my lips down his massive, thick shaft as far as I can take him.
It's not even halfway before he hits the back of my mouth. I push down and swallow, running my tongue along the underside, and he grunts above me, one hand in my hair.
I'm going to be honest: I googled how to deep throat a really big cock. The answer seemed to be start with a smaller cock, but failing that, I'm supposed to just relax and keep trying, since I'm not interested in any other cocks.
I relax. I keep trying, sucking and slurping on him as I pull back. My eyes are watering just a tiny bit, but it feels good to have Colton's cock in my mouth like this, for him to be growling and thrusting slightly.
I suck and slurp and lick, relaxing my throat, and I can feel myself getting closer and closer to letting him in. Finally, when I'm nearly successful, he pulls my hair hard, arching my back, my hand still around the base of his cock.
I'm panting for breath, my eyes watering a little. I swallow.
"Can I make you come in my mouth?" I ask.
I don't know why, but I really want it — there's something so satisfying about swallowing him, feeling him unload himself again and again onto my tongue, taking it all like a good girl while he holds my head there.
He looks down at me, muscled chest breathing hard.
"No," he says.
I look at his cock, my hand still around the base, and wipe my mouth off with the back of the other hand.
"Can I—" I falter, suddenly not sure how to phrase it. I look up at him.
"Say it," he growls.
"Can I ride your cock?" I ask, still on my knees.
He grins.
"Fuck yes, you can," he says, and in seconds I'm straddling him again, his hands on my hips as I guide him to my entrance, absolutely aching for him.
Then he holds me up by the hips, and even though the head of his cock is between my lower lips, I can't seem to get him inside.
"Go slow," he says, his eyes heavy-lidded. "I want to watch you feel every inch of my cock as you fuck me, Emmy."
Jesus.
He lets me go, and I lean back, steadying my hands on his knees, Colton still watching me with that ravenously hungry look on his face.
I take a deep breath and let my weight pull me down, the head of his cock pushing its way through my lips and into my entrance. He rubs slowly against that perfect spot on the front wall of my pussy, the delicious pressure making me moan.
"You know how fucking sexy it is watching you take my cock?" he says, his voice low and rough. "I love watching your sweet pu
ssy stretch around me while I fill you up."
I slide another inch down, slowly. My brain feels like it's buzzing with pleasure, and Colton's still watching me.
"And I love watching how fucking good it makes you feel, darlin'," he goes on. "It's like your brain goes off when my cock goes in."
He's not wrong. I keep sliding him into me, even though it feels like forever, and it's pure torture to go so slow.
And I think he knows. I think he likes torturing me like this, watching me gasp and moan at the pure pleasure he brings me.
Finally, he's all the way in, every last inch, and we both groan explosively at the same time. I feel so full, like I could barely move even if I weren't achingly, perfectly situated on this amazing cock.
"Don't move," he growls.
Chapter Eighteen
Colton
Goddamn, Emmy feels good. I know I'm torturing her, just a little. I know if I said the word right now, she'd be coming in seconds, bouncing up and down on my cock and I'd be right there with her.
But there's a slightly cruel part of me that likes this. Likes making her wait, keeping her right on the edge. I like the way she looks, the way she talks when I'm inside her and she'd do anything I wanted.
It's not easy. Even though I tell her not to move, her muscles are gripping and pulling at me, her tight pussy still somehow drawing me in. It's a struggle not to come, just like this, inside her.
I start at her hips and run my hands up her taut body, lithe from a lifetime of hard outdoor work. She moans when I reach her small, full, perky breasts and pinch both nipples in my hands, her hips bucking against me, my cock rubbing against her inner walls.
"Make me come," she whispers, her head back, hands firmly planted on my knees. "Please make me come."
I'm right on the brink myself, but I like savoring this.
"Not yet," I tell her, still pinching her small, rosy, puckered nipples.
"Colton, I can't hold on very long," she says, her face flushed, her eyes closed. "This feels too fucking good."
She's rocking back and forth slightly. I don't think she knows she's doing it, but I take her hips in my hands and pull her toward me, just a little, my cock shifting inside her tight pussy. Emmy bucks her hips against me and moans.
I fight the temptation to tell her to ride me as hard as she can, to pump myself into her deep and hard. Instead I keep one hand on her hips, rocking her back and forth gently, my thick cock pressing against all her walls, and with the other I rub her clit with one thumb.
She gasps.
"Colton," she half moans, half whispers. "Fuck, Colton, please don't stop."
I don't let her move more than she is, just barely, my cock rubbing and stirring inside her. Her pussy is already squeezing and fluttering like she's losing control, and I rub her harder, buried deep inside.
I like knowing I can make her come just from this.
"Please," she murmurs, rocking back and forth like she's hypnotized. "Please, Colton, let me come."
Her hips are moving faster and harder, more urgently. I'm still barely moving inside her, but now she's whimpering, her muscles on the verge of spasm.
"I don't know if I can stop myself," she whispers.
I pull her down hard on top of myself, burying myself deep as she moans.
"You can come," I say.
Emmy lets go. Her nails dig into my thighs and she throws her head back, her hips moving and bucking hard as she clenches around me, moaning.
And she says my name, over and over, shouting it and whispering it, like it's a prayer. It feels fucking good when she comes around me, her pussy like a fist closing around me.
Besides that, it's fucking beautiful to watch, and my balls clench against me as she writhes in ecstasy.
As she finishes she leans forward, her forehead against mine, and kisses me desperately. She doesn't ask permission, but that's okay.
Emmy bites my lip as she pulls away, then frowns, shifting.
"You're still hard," she says.
I grin, then smack her ass. Her pussy clenches quickly around my cock.
"Now you can give me a good, hard ride," I say.
I don't have to ask twice, because Emmy steadies herself against my shoulders and raises herself on her knees, coming back down, her tight pussy stroking the length of my cock.
Fuck, it's good.
"Just like that," I tell her.
She bites her lip and keeps going, riding me mercilessly. It's fucking incredible, because I love the things she does for me, and how enthusiastic she is. Before long, she's flushed and panting again, and I'm squeezing her hips, fire gathered in my belly as I'm ready to shoot myself deep inside her.
"Can I come again?" she asks, still bouncing, the rhythmic motion of her breasts nearly hypnotic.
"Fuck yes," I gasp.
Her hand on my shoulder tightens, her nails digging in as her eyes go blurry and out of focus. She clenches around me again, and this time it's too much.
I release myself inside her as she moans and whimpers, her perfect pussy drawing me in, and I buck again and again until I'm completely and utterly spent.
Emmy leans forward. We kiss again, for a long time, and I stay inside her. Even though I'm spent and going soft, she feels good.
Like this is right.
A little while later she gets dressed and goes back to the main house, to her bedroom underneath her parents' room. I hate to see her go, but I know that she has to, because we can't get caught.
I watch her walk away, her body bathed in moonlight, and I stand there on my front porch, deep in thought.
I should have never given in. I should never have let my control slip for a moment, not around Emmy Winchester, but I did.
Now I'm here, watching her walk away, and it hurts. I don't want it to be like this. I want her to fall asleep next to me. I want to wake up with my arms around her, my face buried in her hair.
I wish I was just fucking the bosses' daughter, but this is becoming more than that, and I don't know what to do. I've been with plenty of women, but never one like this.
Never one I fell in love with.
Chapter Nineteen
Emmeline
After that, I’m at Colton’s cabin every night. I know that I should probably give it a break once in a while — maybe I should give him a break, except he never seems to want one — but I can’t bring myself not to go.
I think I’m addicted to him, to the incredible way he makes me feel. Even after a week or so, I spend all day thinking about that night, and he’s never disappointing.
I didn’t think I was this girl. The girl who begs a man to let her get on her knees, the girl who gets wet at the sound of a belt being taken off and cracked.
He ties me to his bed again. Face up, face down. He ties my hands behind my back. He blindfolds me, ties my wrists to chair legs so I’m bending over and fucks me that way.
Once he licks me, a finger in my ass, until I come. Then he adds another finger and makes me come again, then again, until my ass is stuffed and I don’t think I can come any more but then he fucks me, and I do.
That’s the night I beg him to take my ass, but he refuses, saying not yet. I know better than to press, and I know it’s dirty as hell, but I want him there.
I want Colton to have all of me, to take every last inch of my body.
A few days later, when I wake up, I’m looking at strange curtains in a strange room. I wonder where I am for a moment, and then realize all at once that I’m somewhere I’ve only ever seen at night.
It’s morning and I’m still in Colton’s cabin.
Fuck.
I practically fall out of his bed, completely naked, the sun just barely over the horizon. He wakes up suddenly and looks over at me, half on the floor, in horror.
“I fell asleep,” I whisper.
“Me too,” he whispers back.
We don’t talk more. I find my clothes and put them on faster than I ever have. Colton kisses me very qui
ckly and then I’m practically sprinting out the door, just praying that my parents and Cecilia aren’t awake yet.
When I reach the main house, I pause for a moment. I put my back up against the wall by the side door — the most out-of-the-way entrance — and stand there for a moment, listening. My heart beating almost out of my chest, because I’m up before I normally am, wearing the same outfit I was in the day before.
I can’t believe I fell asleep, I think, over and over again. What’s wrong with me?
I know what’s wrong with me, actually. What’s wrong with me is how much I like Colton. Not just the incredible, mind-blowing sex. Not just the dirty, filthy things I let him do to me because they feel so good.
I like talking to him about horses, about thunderstorms, about Hemingway. I like being with him in his little cabin when he makes us midnight snacks and then we eat together at his table, like any regular couple, laughing at inside jokes.
And worst of all? I like snuggling into his arms at night, in his bed, and pretending we’re really together, even though I know I’m just some summer fling of his, someone he’d never consider his girlfriend.
I like pretending, even though it’s dangerous.
Like it is right now.
I reach out and grab the doorknob, hesitating like it’s electrified or something. It turns quietly and I hold my breath, pushing the door in slowly, hoping against hope that it doesn’t squeak.
The door is silent. I side-step in as soon it’s wide enough for my body, trying to be as quiet as possible as I can on the rug by the door as I push it closed again behind myself.
Finally, the lock catches quietly. I exhale and bend down, pulling off my boots. The staircase to the second and third floors is at the other end of the house, but at least I’m inside now. The worst part is over.
In sock feet, I pad through the empty hallway, avoiding the open doors to the living room and dining room, even though they’re probably empty at this hour.
Still, people are starting to get up, and I can hear them walking across the floor over my head as I turn the corner toward the staircase.