by Stella Rhys
Uh oh. I knew from just the sound that the tables had turned – as if being tied and spanked over his desk weren’t a good enough hint.
“But now that you’ve had your fun – ” Julian audibly stroked his cock behind me with the wetness I left on his shaft. “ – I’m going to have mine.”
He smoothed his hand over my ass again, building my senses up to brace for another tingling blow.
But what I felt instead was the warm flat of his tongue on my pussy.
My mouth fell open as my knees buckled hard against the desk. I moaned as Julian securely gripped my legs, holding them slightly bent and together as he switched between licking and furiously lapping at me. He groaned low, with pleasure, as if I were the best thing he’d ever tasted.
“Holy shit.”
My eyes shut tight as Julian devoured me, squeezing my knees together and lifting my heels off the floor while still licking my pussy. Oh my God. I writhed on the desk, gasping at my sheer instability – at the fact that I could still feel such ecstasy while having no control of my balance whatsoever. My legs trembled in Julian’s grip, my hands still tied behind my back and my feet now well off the ground. All I knew for sure was that my cheek and breasts were pressed against his desk, and his tongue was sliding so deep in my pussy I could hardly fathom his skill.
If there was a definition for at his mercy, this was it.
And while I was sure that Julian wouldn’t let me come, he made me his priority for the last five minutes that he had before his meeting, his tongue bathing my pussy till I saw stars behind my eyes.
My orgasm was a second from tearing through me when he stopped and rose to his feet.
“Julian!” I cried loud enough for at least someone to hear outside, but he only gave a dark laugh.
Freeing my wrists, he spun me around and hoisted me up onto the edge of his desk, right in front of his chair. Taking a seat, he spread my legs wide, draping them over his shoulders before leaning in and licking the full length of my sex.
“Oh my God.”
That was all it took to launch my senses right back to where he’d left me. Jerking his own cock, Julian furiously sucked on my clit till I was grasping his hair and gasping his name. When my furious orgasm hit, I barely muffled my lips in time. I was delirious. My back arched taut as a surge of wetness rushed onto Julian’s tongue, and my cheeks burned as I tried pushing his head away. But he refused to budge. His wicked mouth was greedy, sopping me up like I was his own personal supply of honey.
“Oh my God, Julian…”
“Fuck, I’m going to come.”
His words were harsh, tight, and they filled me with an unfamiliar sense of urgency. Before I knew it, I was back on my knees in front of him, my mouth wrapping around his cock and giving two wet pulls before his liquid heat flooded my tongue.
“Fuck, Sara,” Julian groaned, staring down at me. He watched me bring him to a true finish, cleaning him off with my mouth and then tucking his still-hard cock back into his boxers. “Jesus fucking Christ, you’re so sexy,” he growled, releasing his handful of my hair. “Get the fuck up here.”
He pulled me up onto his lap and for the last sixty seconds we had, he kissed gently along my neck while stroking my thighs. And just like the last time, it felt a little too dangerously good.
14
JULIAN
It was my turn to be late for once.
I kept the Roths waiting on the roof as I sat in the back of my car, parked directly in front of the hotel’s side entrance. My stare was trained out the window, giving only occasional glances at Turner’s asinine texts.
TURNER: 6:02 Hoult. Are you shittin me??
TURNER: For your tardiness you will be drinking copious amounts of tequila with me tonight.
TURNER: Same goes for that little assistant of yours
TURNER: Might have to do body shots with her
The last one came in just as I spotted that long dark hair down the block.
I tensed as I sat forward. I hadn’t seen Sara since she’d milked every drop of cum from my cock this morning, and I was practically fucking dizzy looking at her now. She was wrapped in a light brown dress that didn’t show so much as a hint of cleavage, but it was form-fitting with a hem that skimmed several inches above mid-thigh. It made me want to lick those fucking legs from ankle to pussy.
Christ.
I wasn’t entirely sure how I was already missing the taste of her skin on my lips. I’d gotten more than my fair share of satisfaction this morning, but seeing her now, I was back to square fucking one.
“Hey.” Her greeting was breathy, half-surprised when she saw me. “I thought you’d be upstairs already. It’s past six.”
“Yes. Turner has kept me painfully aware of the time,” I said, walking slightly behind her as we entered the hotel. “He’s early again.”
“Shocking, actually. And you’re late.”
“I preferred to wait for you to go in.”
“Mm. Didn’t think I could handle being alone with those two?”
“No, I didn’t want those two to see the way I looked at you tonight. I needed some time to react alone first.”
“Oh.”
That certainly shut her smart mouth. My lips twitched with amusement as we entered the hotel through the lesser-known side entrance, our eyes finding each other as we waited for the elevator we’d met in.
“So have you fully reacted yet?” Sara teased. I smirked as, on cue, the elevator arrived.
“Almost,” I replied as we stepped in.
The moment the doors closed, my hands were on her.
She moaned as I palmed her pussy under her skirt, sucking her lip into my mouth.
I tortured myself as I groped up her body and felt no bra under her dress.
Every little breath of hers went straight to my balls. Every little whimper sent my blood fucking rushing.
But just as quickly as we’d started we stopped, standing apart as a couple entered on the tenth floor. They rode with us up to the roof, stepping off before us and giving me a chance to rub my hand over Sara’s ass before we were promptly greeted and taken to meet the Roths.
SARA
There wasn’t so much as an umbrella to provide shade for us at our table, and every time I fanned myself, Turner stopped what he was saying to watch me.
“I’ve got a surprise for you. Don’t you worry,” he grinned every time.
I had no idea what he meant. In fact, Carter looked as confused as Julian and I did. But I didn’t ask questions. A part of me hoped that whatever the surprise was, Turner would forget after enough margaritas.
He was on his fourth, Carter on his third.
Julian and I were on our second – technically. Turner insisted, but while he and I spoke after he ordered, I spotted Julian’s quick exchange with the waitress from my peripherals. And with that, we were served virgin drinks anytime Turner ordered.
“I’m sorry,” Julian had whispered to me. “I’m not drinking tequila with these guys. We’ll get actual drinks when this is over.”
I did my best not to grin over the invitation for a private night out. Carter had already caught a flirtatious look I’d given Julian at the start of the meeting. After, he’d kept his stare pinned on me till I looked at him, as if forcing me to acknowledge what he’d just seen.
“Obviously, we’re going to need more than a few rooms when we go out there,” Turner said, still on the topic of what kind of suites Julian would offer him for the trip out to the resort in Biarritz. “It’s not gonna be just me and Carter out there. I’ve got my business advisors, financial consultants, lawyers.” He lifted his eyebrows at Julian as if waiting for him to be impressed, or daunted maybe. Of course, he was neither.
He looked calm, collected, far too dashing in classic Persol shades and a white linen shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He looked to me like he should be driving some shiny wooden speedboat in Lake Como, not dealing with Turner Roth’s insufferable drunkenness.
; “I look forward to meeting your advisors,” Julian said evenly.
“You should. They’re smart men. I’m bringing the whole fuckin’ team, and they sure as shit ain’t gonna share rooms.”
“It’s high season, but once you agree on an actual date, I’ll be sure to call the resort to arrange for the proper amount of suites,” Julian said.
“Yeah… I’m bringing a bunch of old fucks who sleep at like, ten, so their rooms actually matter,” Turner snorted, draping an arm over the glass railing of the balcony. We were twenty floors above ground, but with a flick, he tossed his garnish over the side of the roof. “The four of us though… I hope you know we’re going to have some late nights in Biarritz.”
“And why is that?” Julian asked.
“Well, I haven’t been out there in years, and you two are the experts. You gotta show me where the gems are. I gotta feel like I wanna take my business to that town, you know what I mean?”
“That just sounds like an excuse for you to get shitfaced instead of work,” Julian said.
My jaw fell open. A brief silence followed, and I looked up from my drink to see Julian and Turner smiling at each other despite the palpable tension at the table.
“What can I say? You know me by now, Hoult. I work hard, and I play hard.”
Julian’s laugh was genuine, and I knew it was because he found only the latter half of Turner’s claim to be true. He played hard, and he played hard. Even I knew that at this point.
“Well, regardless, I’ll at least have your advisors on board at that point. That’ll guarantee me at least a couple sober minds to talk to.”
“Yeah, maybe you can all talk shop and sleep at ten while I take Sara out for drinks. How about that?” Turner asked, his glassy eyes unblinking at Julian.
“How about we get back on topic?” Julian suggested, his mouth still curved slightly up despite his voice sounding as brittle as ice. Even Carter flashed me a what just happened look over the exchange.
I had no idea, and Julian wasn’t giving me any directions, so feeling slightly awkward, I excused myself.
In the bathroom, I used a paper towel to dab at the beads of sweat forming on my hairline. I was dying to put my hair up, but I’d left my only racer back bra with Julian, and I had no intention of giving the Roths that much of a show. Besides, the biggest battle was almost over. Turner and Carter had agreed on the trip to the Biarritz resort, and once we got out there, their advisors would more than likely tell them the purchase was a no-brainer, and this would all be over. We’d probably complete the trip within the next few weeks, and then negotiations would take place for some time after.
Well before the end of the summer, this would all be done.
Holding my hair off the back of my neck, I stared at myself in the mirror.
I didn’t want to admit to myself that I already feared this being over. But that was a difficult truth to suppress considering anytime I so much as looked in the mirror lately, I saw the body Julian couldn’t keep his hands off of. I imagined the heat of his broad chest behind me, his lips on my neck and his palms smoothing down my hips.
He was the one responsible for whatever reawakening I’d had since quitting my job, and now I was screwed. Now, I couldn’t imagine wanting anyone else. I’d seen plenty of good-looking men since meeting Julian - at the gala, at Hoult Tower. They were all polished, handsome and put together. Technically, Turner and Carter were handsome. But Julian’s allure had completely spoiled me to the point that I found myself almost annoyed by how little my favorite actors and TV stars did for me at this point.
He really had ruined my taste and ability to have a normal attraction for others. So what was I supposed to do with myself when he moved on from me? Become asexual? The thought made me feel grim.
But I couldn’t afford to be grim.
I had to be strictly bright and engaging for the Roths, so with a splash of water to my face, I snapped myself out of it, or at least tried.
Of course when I returned to the table, I found Julian looking just as dark and somber as I had a second ago.
“What’s going on?” I asked, feeling wary when I noticed Turner’s big, shit-eating grin.
“Oh, I was just telling Julian that before we set a date for the trip, we gotta make sure of one thing.”
I cocked my head. “What’s that?”
Turner wiggled his eyebrows.
“We gotta make sure you know how to surf.”
15
SARA
Lights beamed up from the bottom of the indoor pool on the twelfth floor. There was a blue tint to the long stretch of a room, and the tranquil reflection of water glittered on the stone walls, making them look as if they were slow dancing. Luxuriously white chaise lounges lined the edges of the pool, flickering candles centered on the low tables beside them.
It was all for us.
But as beautiful as it was, Julian and I were stiff and silent as Turner, drunk and swaying, led us into the space.
Floating ominously in the middle of the water was a surfboard – bright white with my name painted in pink cursive over the top. He’d spelled it “Sarah” with an h, but I said nothing. I wasn’t pleased about what he wanted me to do, and neither at all was Julian, but I couldn’t let it show.
Not with Turner holding the entire trip over our heads.
“Couldn’t possibly commit to a date for the trip till I knew Sara had the basics down,” he said, seeming to enjoy whatever disbelief had struck both Julian and my face. “Besides, you can’t possibly say no when I went to such great lengths to make this a nice night. Right?”
He didn’t actually wait or care for an answer. From roasting us like pigs on the roof to providing swimsuits, since he knew we wouldn’t bring our own, it was clear Turner had long planned to get me in the pool and to get Julian to play the game his way for once. The moment he stepped away to say hi to the girls Carter brought in, Julian turned his back on him to face me.
“He’s trying to see how much he can get me to do for free before committing to the trip,” he said. Both his expression and his voice were neutral, but his eyes were livid. The pool water glimmered in his intense stare. “And, obviously, he wants to see you in a swimsuit.”
“I figured as much,” I said under my breath as I held the bag of bikinis Turner gave me. It felt as if I was his puppet tonight, but for fear of getting Julian more worked up than he was, I played it down. “It’s not a big deal, Julian. We’ll take a swim, we’ll pretend to party for him, and then we’ll set a date for the trip. If humoring Turner gets us to Biarritz and connects you with his advisors, it’s worth it. At least then you won’t have to deal with trying to talk to him or Carter about business they clearly don’t know how to discuss.”
Julian eyed me. For the first time since meeting the Roths tonight, I detected a real smile on his lips.
“What?” I whispered, the hard t sound bouncing off the walls of the quiet room. Julian dropped his voice.
“That was oddly arousing.”
“What was?”
“You taking control. I can only imagine how good you look on top.”
I smiled despite my blushing. “We can find out tonight. That is, if you’re interested.”
“I think you know at this point that I’m interested, Sara,” Julian murmured, his eyes scintillating. “Whether I want to be or not.”
My smile wavered. “You had to add that last part?”
“Why shouldn’t I?”
“I don’t know. Because it hurt,” I said truthfully.
“You know what it’s like to have rules,” Julian said, unapologetic. “You should know how it feels to break them.”
“It’s felt nothing but good for me so far,” I murmured as I saw Turner coming back. “But I take it you regret what’s happened between us.”
He had exactly two seconds to respond, but he didn’t use them. And soon enough, Turner came back to ask what we were doing. From there, we went in opposite directions to ch
ange in the locker rooms.
Not a single drop of water sounded in the stone and marble locker room.
It was completely still and quiet, and somehow even quieter as I stood alone by the empty glass and marble showers, staring numbly into the mirror.
I noted vaguely that I actually liked this simple black bikini, but despite my eyes on my reflection, I wasn’t really looking at myself anymore. I had finished changing five, maybe ten minutes ago, but I didn’t move. I was daring someone to come in here and get me. If not, maybe I’d stay here forever. I needed to reflect, anyway. To understand how I’d even gotten to this point.
Gathering my dark hair over my shoulder, I moved my eyes across my reflection, trying to recognize even a part of myself. No dice. My familiarity with myself had faded completely since the last time I’d been here less than three weeks ago.
Eighteen days, to be exact.
Eighteen days ago, in this hotel, I’d met Julian Hoult. That never sounded like much time to me before. Back when I had deadlines, assignments piled on top of assignments, eighteen days was nothing. But since the day I quit, that amount of time had somehow become an eternity.
It was enough to break me out of the box I’d spent years building around myself, and it was enough to hook me on a brand new addiction. Gone was my dependency on working day and night, on finding my worth in the thrill of just making it every time – just meeting the deadline and somehow staying alive in the process
Replacing it now was my need for a man I tried to remind myself I didn’t know.
I knew his name. I knew what he did for a living. I knew that he made me realize the full capacity of what my mind and body could feel.
But beyond that, I knew nothing. I didn’t know where he lived, how he lived, how or if he spent his nights at home. Ninety-nine percent of the time, I didn’t know what he thought, what he was capable of, and if one morning I’d walk into the office to find his wall up again.
I didn’t know any of that, so why was I risking these feelings for him? Why was I wasting my hurt on the fact that he regretted sleeping with me?
I stared at myself.