by Nic Saint
And while my mind was still reeling in the afterglow of my climax, I suddenly felt Remington’s cock swell up even more inside me.
“Come inside me,” I panted. “I want you to come inside me, baby.”
With an animal snarl, he bucked against me, then, and a pained expression came over his face, as he closed his eyes.
I reached up and took his head between both hands. He opened his eyes, and I said, “Look at me when you come, Remington; look into my eyes.”
His face softened and he leaned in to kiss me, then locked eyes with me, as another grunt escaped his lips, and in that moment, he came, shooting spurt after spurt of white hot cum straight into my cunt, coating the walls of my vagina with load after load of his semen.
As his body relaxed, he covered my mouth with his, and when our tongues connected, his cock still burrowed deep into my vagina, I felt so ecstatically happy, that I simultaneously broke out into tears and laughter, surprising him.
“What’s wrong?” he said, kissing away my tears.
“Nothing’s wrong,” I said, trailing my hands all across the hard planes of his face as if seeing him for the very first time. “I just feel so happy, Remington. So fucking happy…”
He smiled as he kissed the palm of my hand and hugged me into him, our bodies fully connecting—then we kissed and I felt so close to him it was if I disappeared for a moment, and we were one body, one heart and one soul.
“I was sent here to spy on you,” I suddenly blurted out against his cheek. “Celeste… She told me to come here and spy on you so she could destroy you.”
“What?” He jerked up, his face registering shock.
This time I cried for real. “I was sent here to destroy you, Remington,” I sobbed. “And now I’ve fallen… in love with you.”
Chapter 8
My confession had an adverse effect on Remington. He stared at me wide-eyed for a moment, then pushed away from me as if stung.
“You work with Celeste?” he said, his face working.
I nodded tearfully.
“Get the fuck out of here,” he growled, his mouth a malevolent slash and his eyes shooting fire. “Get the fuck out of my company!”
“But Remington,” I cried, reaching out a tentative hand.
But his face had turned to stone. He grabbed his clothes from the floor and stalked out, slamming the door behind him.
I collapsed onto the desk, completely naked and still in the position he’d left me in. Remington’s cum was oozing from my pussy onto the desk but I didn’t even care. The sight of him leaving was like a stab through the heart, and now I really wailed, the pain so intense my chest was wrecked by the spasms that heaved through me.
I’d screwed up royally, I knew that now, and the worst thing was, I’d really fallen for him—I’d fallen for the one man I’d betrayed.
“Oh, God,” I cried, my breath coming in gasps as tears flooded my face. I leant up and slowly moved into an upright position, supporting myself with my hands splayed on the desk behind me. I stared down at my breasts, wet with my tears and Remington’s sweat. I noticed a single chest hair of his, still stuck to my nipple, and watched as more cum gushed from between my lips, pooling onto the desk.
I broke down in tears once again.
Then all of a sudden the door burst open and Remington stood there, large and unforgiving, his face a thundercloud.
“Are you still here?” he boomed. “I thought I told you to get the fuck out.”
“Remington,” I cried. “I didn’t mean to—” I reached out a hand in his direction, but he remained unmoved.
“You should have thought of that before,” he said. “So what are you, a professional call girl? They hire you to seduce guys like me?”
“No, no, of course not,” I said, aghast. “I’m a call center agent at Flowers For You. I’m not a whore!”
He frowned. “You’re a call center agent?”
I nodded.
“Oh,” he said. He waved his hand in my general direction. “So what’s this all about then. Celeste put you up to this?”
“This?” I said, not comprehending.
“Your little seduction routine. Was that planned all along or just spur of the moment?”
“I don’t have a… seduction routine,” I faltered. “I just… fell for you. I never planned any of this.”
“Uh-huh,” he said, his scowl deepening.
For a moment, neither of us spoke. I saw him take in my naked body, my chest still rapidly heaving and falling, my sweaty breasts quivering, and the small puddle of his cum and my juices pooling between my legs. His face softened.
“So what you’re saying is…”
I swallowed. “What I’m saying is… I came here to steal your web design, and fell in love with you in the process. I didn’t plan for this to happen. I’m not that kind of girl.”
“I know you’re not,” he said, relenting. He came over to where I still lay, and helped me to my feet, then handed me a box of Kleenex so I could wipe away the remnants of our passionate encounter.
“I know you’re not,” he repeated softly, putting a hand on my shoulder. At his touch, I instantly threw myself into his arms, and he caught me.
“Celeste told me—forced me—to do this,” I stammered. “I know I shouldn’t have agreed. I’m so sorry, Remington. I’m so sorry.”
He didn’t speak, but merely held me close, gently stroking my hair, enveloping me in his arms.
“I never had this much trouble with Gladys,” he murmured. “Of course I never felt sexually attracted to Gladys, so there’s that.”
I laughed through my tears, then started bawling once again.
“There, there,” he said. “It’s all right. No harm no foul.”
“I love you, Remington,” I murmured, and I could hardly believe I said it. Had I really fallen for this man, all in the space of two hours? Was that even possible? Still, my heart felt the way it felt. There was no denying it. I’d fallen head over heels in love with this attractive man.
He held me at arm’s length, and studied my face for a long moment, as if trying to probe my very soul with his intent gaze.
“Let’s take things slow,” he finally suggested. “Why don’t you get dressed and freshen up a bit. Then let’s sit down and start over. Pretend none of this ever happened.”
He held out his hand and I shook it. “Hi,” he said. “I’m Remington Carswell, your new employer.”
“I’m Erin Gould,” I said. “Your new… secretary.”
“Welcome to Hearts & Flowers, Miss Gould.”
I smiled. “So you’re not kicking me out?”
He shook his head, his green eyes plumbing mine. “I’m not kicking you out. I do feel you deserve to be punished, though. But we’ll deal with that later.”
“Punished?” I said weakly.
“Every crime deserves its punishment, Miss Gould. I’m a great believer in that principle. So prepare to get yours. Tonight.”
And with those ominous words, he swept from the room, leaving me naked, cold and shivering in quiet trepidation. What punishment? What was he talking about? At the same time, I knew that whatever punishment he’d decide to lay onto me, I’d happily accept it, if only we could be together again. Just then my pussy twitched, mirroring those sentiments exactly. I’d do anything to feel Remington’s cock inside me again. Anything at all.
Chapter 9
After I’d freshened up, Remington did sit down with me, only he was so civil and nice that it was as if nothing had ever happened between us at all. No more mention was made of our hot tryst, what we felt for each other, or even Celeste for that matter. It was as if he’d turned a switch and now he was my employer, I was merely one of his employees, and that’s where our relationship ended.
I tried to go along with this new routine, taking notes as he explained the nature of his business, and what would be expected of me as his executive secretary. He could probably tell my mind was far from work, and focused
entirely on him, but if he did, he didn’t let on.
He was kind and professional and it nearly drove me crazy.
“Remington, but what about Celeste?” I finally said when I couldn’t stand it anymore.
He arched an eyebrow. “What about her?”
“What do I tell her?”
“You don’t have to tell that woman anything,” he said, finally some real emotion showing through his mask of professionalism as he gritted his teeth. “When the time comes, I’ll deal with her.”
“When the time comes,” I murmured, searching his face for a sign of the passion we’d felt that morning when making love. But once again, his mask was firmly in place, and he merely gave me a polite smile.
“I think that will be all for today, Miss Gould,” he said, closing the file folder on his lap. “Any questions?”
I had about a million questions, but they would have to wait. Right now there was only one thing I needed to know. “Do you… care about me?” I asked in a small voice, and instantly regretted posing the question, for his face turned to stone.
“I fail to see the relevance, Miss Gould. As your employer, of course I care about your well-being, as I hope you care about Hearts & Flowers.” He leaned in closer, and fixed his intense gaze on me. I shivered. “What you need to ask yourself is where your loyalties really lie. I suggest you ponder that question.”
I swallowed with some difficulty. He’d clearly not yet forgiven me. Only one question remained. “What about Tamara?”
He was silent for a spell, seeming to think things over. Then finally, he said “Tell your friend she’s welcome here. Provided she sever all connections with Flowers For You first.”
And with those words, he abruptly rose to his feet and turned to leave.
“Oh, one other thing,” he said. “Be ready at eight.”
“Eight?” I said, my pulse quickening. This could only mean one thing.
The corners of his mouth jerked up into a devious smile. “Have you forgotten already, Miss Gould? Your punishment awaits. Eight o’clock sharp. Transportation will be arranged.”
He gave me a once-over, his eyes lingering dangerously long in the vicinity of my chest. “Dress appropriately.”
***
“Oh, God, I love him,” I said, sulking into my cup of coffee.
“Love who, honey?” Tamara said.
“Remington,” I said.
“Who the hell is Remington? Why haven’t you told me about him? What’s going on?” she said, getting all worked up.
We were at Marcy’s again, for our daily after hours get-together, and once again I was feeling miserable. This time it wasn’t Celeste or crazy customers that had soured my mood. This time I only had myself to blame.
“Remington Carswell? He runs Hearts & Flowers?”
“Oh, that Remington,” she said, as if she counted at least a dozen Remingtons amongst her acquaintances. She creased her brow, giving me a skeptical look. “And you say you love him? How did that happen?”
So I told her the whole story, from our serendipitous meeting in the elevator, to the hot sex on Gladys’s desk to the utter and complete fiasco that followed in its wake, and my meltdown.
“Dang, girl,” she said, holding a hand to her heaving bosom. “You’re a fast worker. Hot sex with the hot billionaire playboy. I didn’t think you had it in you.”
“Well, apparently I did,” I said. “And now he’s going to punish me, whatever that means.”
“I’m dying to find out,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows. “But if you ask me, it just means more hot sex. I think the guy is going to show you all the corners of his bedroom tonight. And then some.”
“I doubt it,” I said. “He’s been so infuriatingly formal all day. As if nothing ever happened between us at all. And yet I’m sure he felt the same way about me when we were up there on that desk. I could feel the connection.”
“The connection of his prick with your devious little cunt is what he felt,” said Tamara.
“No!” I laughed. “Our hearts connected, I’m sure of it.”
“Yeah, right. Look, girl, save that kind of stuff for the Disney movies. In real life, billionaire playboys don’t fall head over heels in love with their secretaries just because they get to fuck her once. That just doesn’t happen!”
“Well, I’m sure it did,” I said morosely. Though after all that had happened I was beginning to seriously doubt if it actually had. Perhaps Tamara was right and he was just that: a billionaire playboy who liked to fuck every girl who was stupid enough to throw herself at him. “Is he really such a playboy?” I said.
“You better believe it,” she said. “Just google him. He’s got so many notches on his belt he must have a closet full of them by now. Belts I mean. Not hot babes. He doesn’t keep them longer than strictly necessary. It’s merely catch and release for that guy.”
“Oh, hell,” I said, and plunked my head on the table. It seemed to be my favorite position these days. “So that’s what I am, huh? Just another notch on Remington Carswell’s belt?”
“Be proud, honey,” she said, patting my head as if I were a Chihuahua. “He usually only beds celebrities and socialites. Hey!”
I looked up. “What?”
“Now that he’s branching out below the poverty line, do you think perhaps I should have a crack at him? He’s one fine fellow. And I could use me some cock. I’ve been celibate for all of two weeks now.”
“Don’t say that, Tamara!” I cried. “I love him!”
“Just kidding, honey. Just kidding. He’s all yours.”
“Yeah, right,” I said. “His hot ass belongs to me and about a gazillion hot celebrities.”
She grimaced. “Yeah, there’s that, of course.”
For a moment, neither of us spoke, then I suddenly remembered something. “Oh, that’s right. I almost forgot. How soon can you quit your job at Celeste’s?”
“Quit my job?” She frowned. “Why the hell would I want to quit my job? Unlike some people, I need my paycheck.”
“I got Remington to hire you.”
She wavered. “Was this before or after he dumped your ass?”
“After.”
Her face cleared and she pumped her fist in the air. “I got hired by the billionaire hottie?”
“You got hired by Remington, yes,” I grinned.
She hugged me across the table, her boobs clearing a path among the empty cups and saucers, salt & pepper shaker and the menu card. “Woo-hoo! Thank you, hon!”
“You’re welcome,” I said. At least something good had happened that day.
She sat back with a wide smile. “And for the best part, I get to tell Celeste to fuck off and eat shit!”
“You’re not going to—”
She nodded vigorously. “Oh, you bet your tiny hiney I’m gonna!”
“I better do the same,” I said. “Well, not in those words exactly, but—”
“Don’t you worry about a thing!” Tamara said. “I’ll quit my job and yours as well. Two for the price of one!”
“Thanks for the offer, but I feel I have to do this myself.”
“Fair enough. Now let’s celebrate!”
“Yeah, let’s,” I said, though I didn’t really feel all that celebratory.
Chapter 10
That night, as I anxiously awaited the clock to strike eight—figuratively, at least, for I don’t have a clock, only my cell informing me what time it is—I wondered if Tamara’s parting words hadn’t been true. It couldn’t be love I felt for this man Remington. No-one falls in love like that. Probably what had happened was that I’d fallen in love with his cock. Something that wasn’t all that uncommon, Tamara assured me. It even happened to her. She’d gone out on a date with Robbie—her green grocer’s cousin and ugly as fuck, but the man had such a delicious cock on him, that for weeks afterwards, Tamara couldn’t help lusting after his fifty-year-old ass. Or rather, his dingus.
Was that what had happened to me? But t
hen I remembered the way he looked at me while we were making love, the way he touched me. Those soft lips, the loving words he whispered in my ear, that sweet caress… My body tingled just thinking back to that morning. No, it was definitely more than physical attraction alone. My heart had been touched—he’d reached deep into my soul and I’d come away wanting him so much it hurt. But what hurt even more than his physical absence, was the emotional distance he’d created upon finding out I was working for Celeste.
I checked herself in the mirror. I’d found a flimsy strapless black dress in my closet, hugging my small frame and pert breasts, perfect for just this occasion. At least, that’s what I hoped. Since I had no idea what Remington had in mind for me, it was hard to dress appropriately, as he had requested.
My doorbell rang, and my heart jumped into her throat. Eight o’clock already? I flew to the door, and checked the intercom. I was surprised to find it was Remington himself standing on my doorstep! I buzzed him in, took my tiny black velvet purse with the gold trim, and sped down the stairs.
A hot blush was mantling my cheeks by the time I reached the bottom step. The door was ajar and Remington stood framed in the golden light from a street lamp nearby. He looked absolutely stunning in a three-piece suit. I noticed he’d even shaved for the occasion.
“Miss Gould,” he intoned, holding out his hand.
As I stepped into the street light, his eyes widened perceptibly at the sight of me, and the hint of a smile flickered about his lips.
“You look nice,” he said gruffly, taking me by the hand.
“Thanks,” I said breathlessly. “You don’t look too shabby either.”
He couldn’t resist a smile, but instantly wiped it from his face. “Are you ready?” he said coldly.