by BETH KERY
“Why are you doing this?” she moaned, because it felt so good. So dirty.
“Because I want to,” he responded without hesitation. His gaze rose to fasten on her face. He continued to massage her breasts and pinch at the nipples. “I’ve wanted to do something like this since the second you walked out the door the other day.” Holding her stare, he dropped one hand. Harper watched, slack-jawed, as he ran his hand up and down over his cock. The shape of his erection—the long, thick shaft and the succulent, defined cap—were made clear against the fabric of his dress pants and his stroking hand. Saliva filled her mouth, making her close her lips. As if he’d known what reaction he had on her, he lifted a hand to her mouth and pressed his thumb against her lower lip, applying a firm pressure and running it back and forth.
“Jacob—” she mouthed.
“I told you that you were going to have to pay for making me want you this much. I haven’t had a moment’s peace since I went away,” he said.
“That’s not my fault.”
“No. But you’ll still be the one to pay.”
He forced her mouth open with his thumb. Instinctively, Harper slicked her tongue along her lower lip, licking his finger in the process. He gave a muted groan, and then plunged his thumb between her lips, running it over her tongue. She closed around him, sucking him deeper and laving his skin with her tongue.
He pushed his thumb in and out of her mouth several times before he removed it. He held her stare as he began to unfasten his pants. She watched as he freed his cock, shoving his trousers and boxer briefs down to his thighs. A moment later, he held his naked, stiff cock in his hand. She stared, rapt, as he fisted himself and moved his hand up and down, squeezing the shaft hard as he reached the flaring crown. He groaned, rough and deep. A droplet of come beaded at the slit. There was a roar in her ears. It was her blood racing in her veins, but distantly, she realized he’d turned on the tap water to create white noise to muffle their activity.
He let go of his erection and reached, gathering her unbound hair with both of his hands. Harper panted softly, her gaze fixed on his cock. He gathered her hair into a tight ponytail at the back of her head. He held it with one hand and grasped his erection again.
“Spread your lips,” he directed quietly.
Harper opened wide without hesitation. She saw his cock jump slightly at her eager display. He was crazy, and she was nuts for agreeing, but this was a delicious madness. She felt raunchy. Slutty.
Cock-starved.
“Spread your knees,” he demanded.
When she’d followed his instructions, he stepped closer to her. He reached down and grabbed the hem of the skirt she wore, shoving it up her thighs to make room for him. With no further ado, he pushed his cock between her lips. She moaned softly at the sensation of his stony flesh breaching her, stretching her lips wide. The defined crown of his cock passed her clamping lips, and she closed her eyes in peaking lust. She jerked her head back and then forward again, pulling hard with her mouth, intensely aroused by the sensation of that thick rim. By his taste. Her precise action made a wet, popping noise. A rough sound vibrated his throat, and he urged her with his hand at the back of her head. Harper was already bobbing her head again, however, eager to experience the sensation again.
He slid further into her this time, his rigid flesh gliding across her tongue and crowding against the top of her mouth. For a stretched, tense moment, she worked him deeper. His hand on her head was firm. He demanded a lot of her, but even that aroused her. She found herself wanton. Desperate. His cock—his concise hunger—liberated her, somehow. It shocked her a little, how much she wanted to please him, to mount his lust and see him break in release.
She made a strangled sound of dissatisfaction when he suddenly flexed his hips back, using his hold on her head to move her backward. His cock popped out of her mouth. He almost immediately reinserted it between her lips.
“Suck hard,” he ordered thickly.
He repeated the action three more times, pulling his cock from her pursed lips and then plunging it into her again, overfilling her mouth while she pulled on him for all she was worth. She knew he liked it—liked the sensation and watching himself pierce her—when she heard his low feral growl. On his last pass, he flexed his hips forward and held her head firm. Her eyes sprang wide at the sensation of him approaching her throat, but she stilled her gag reflex. She managed to do it by focusing on sucking him.
She managed to do it because her hunger matched his.
He groaned roughly and jerked his cock out of her mouth again. He held himself in his hand and massaged her saliva onto the staff.
“Keep your mouth spread wide,” she heard him say above her. “That’s right.” He plunged his swollen cock between her lips once more with a taut, forceful gesture, and then withdrew. “Such a sweet little mouth. So hot,” he muttered. “Is your mouth sore, Harper?”
She lunged forward, eager to have his cock filling her again. He pulled firmly backward on her ponytail, halting her greed. She blinked, her lust pierced. She looked up at him dazedly. His mouth twisted slightly.
“Is your mouth sore?” he repeated.
“No,” she lied. Her lips and jaw ached. So did her pussy, but in a different way. He was a mouthful. She was desperate to see him lose control, though, wild to feel him explode in such an intimate place.
“That’s a very sweet lie,” he said, before he thrust into her mouth again.
Chapter Two
For a moment, he didn’t hold back. He thrust into her forcefully and rapidly. Harper strained toward him with each pass, keeping pace, but barely. She lost herself, bobbing her head back and forth as he pounded into her mouth. Even though she was eager, he controlled the rhythm and pressure with his hips and hold on her hair. He was demanding—to say the least—but he never caused her any acute discomfort.
He pulled the fat, flaring crown of his cock out of her mouth, bouncing tantalizingly just inches from her lips.
“Relax. Close your mouth for a few seconds,” he commanded.
She moaned as she followed his instructions, watching fixedly as he fisted and stroked his slick erection.
“Your mouth is so pretty. Better to fuck than I imagined. You’re so hungry, aren’t you?” He lifted his hand and caressed her jaw with damp, warm fingertips. “But you’re very small, too. You are sore, aren’t you?”
She’d groaned from the pain of intense arousal, not physical discomfort. But her mouth did ache dully. So did her lips. Even that turned her on. Her pussy was wet. Hot.
“Yes. Let me suck it more,” she said hoarsely.
It was like another woman uttered those words: a woman who craved it tense and rough and lewd. A woman who got off on having her hands tied behind her back and being forced to suck cock hard and deep in the bathroom of her workplace . . .
His caressing fingers paused at her words. “You shouldn’t say things like that, Harper.” The next thing she knew, he thrust his cock into her mouth again while forcing her head forward.
“Is that what you want?” she heard him rasp darkly from above her as he pumped aggressively. Just when the tip of his cock was a whisper away from tickling the back of her throat, he slid out of her and thrust again. His low, restrained grunts rained down on her, sending her into a frenzy. She ground her hips down on the hard toilet seat as she took him. She could come from this, just from being the recipient of his unchecked, greedy hunger.
“Hold still,” he ordered a moment later in a voice that sounded muted, but hard. Angry, even.
He began to fuck her mouth in a manner that would have caused her shame if she wasn’t nearly as mindless with lust as he was. He pumped the base of his cock with his hand while he thrust into her mouth. She pressed down with her hips, getting pressure on her sex. God, she was a whore. He was using her for his pleasure, and she loved it. She moaned shakily around
his cock. He paused.
“Open your eyes.”
Her eyelids blinked open at his tense command. She stared up at him with his cock spreading her lips wide. Helpless. Hungry.
He mumbled a harsh curse. His cock popped out of her mouth. He jerked her up from her seated position.
“What—” she squeaked in confusion when he abruptly turned her in front of his body. He’d been on the verge of coming. She’d sensed it. He wrapped his arm around her waist and hauled her against him. She whimpered.
“Be quiet,” he grated out as he dragged her skirt up to her belly. He shoved his hand beneath her panties and pressed against the back of her. “You’re soaking wet,” he said as he rubbed her outer sex forcefully. She whimpered. “Shhh,” he hissed, his mouth just above her right ear. “You don’t want anyone to hear you come, do you? Did you cry out when you masturbated here before?”
But Harper was too lost in the clutches of hot, blinding lust to reply. She circled her hips, grinding her ass against his balls, getting more pressure on her pussy. Suddenly, he lifted his pleasure-giving hand and gave the side of her ass a muted slap. A startled cry popped out of her throat.
“Answer me. Were you silent when you brought yourself off in the bathroom before?” he said tensely right next to her ear. His front teeth fastened on the shell of her ear, giving her a rough, arousing caress. She moaned.
“Harper,” he growled.
“I . . .” She struggled to think. The only thing she could focus on was her craving for him to put his hand back between her legs. She hadn’t realized it was so hard to think when she was this aroused. Maybe she’d never been this turned on before? That must be the reason she was writhing against him like a horny slut in the bathroom of her workplace.
“I don’t know,” she muttered. “It happened more than once.”
“What?”
“You’re making me crazy too, Jacob,” she bit out bitterly in a muted tone. She was so aroused, it was like every nerve in her body burned. “What do you want from me?”
There was a tense pause.
“I want you to answer my question. Were you able to keep quiet before? The other times, when you came in here?”
“I kept quiet,” she panted, clamping her eyelids shut.
“Can you this time?”
“I don’t . . . know,” she admitted brokenly. Her body shook in barely restrained arousal. “I don’t think so.”
His encircling arm rose to her mouth. He pressed his forearm against her lips. His deft fingertips resumed rubbing her lubricated, sizzling clit. “Come,” he whispered hoarsely near her ear.
She climaxed thunderously, her cries muffled by his sleeve-covered forearm crushed against her mouth.
“Sit down, Harper. Now.”
She blinked in disorientation. She’d lost herself to flooding pleasure and heat there for a moment. Jacob had turned her again, and was urging her back down on the toilet seat. The feeling of hitting the hard seat jolted through her dazed state. She opened her mouth to ask a question. He stepped closer and thrust his cock between her lips. She made a surprised sound. He began to thrust, his hand at the back of her head.
She immediately came back to herself at the sensation and began bobbing her head, taking him eagerly. He halted her by grasping the hair at her nape.
“Stay still. I’m going to come,” he ground out. He fucked her mouth tautly for several seconds, the incipient power in him making her eyes spring wide. He jacked the base of the staff with his hand even as he pierced her mouth forcefully. She felt his cock swell.
He withdrew almost entirely from her suckling mouth and began to come. Did he think she didn’t want him to come in her mouth? Harper leaned forward, thirsty for the first thick, white ejaculate that began to shoot from the slit. He suppressed a throat-burning groan. He gripped his fingers tighter in her hair, stilling her. He squeezed the base of his cock.
“All right. Open,” he said in a choked voice.
She did what he asked. He angled his cock into her mouth and finished coming on her tongue. She stared up at him, wide-eyed, undone as the taste of his semen entered her awareness. His big body tensed and shuddered several times.
After a moment, he exhaled raggedly and withdrew. He lowered his hand to her cheek and caressed her jaw. “Close, Harper,” he said thickly.
He held his glistening cock just inches from her face. She looked up and saw him watching her with that feral focus of his as she closed her lips and swallowed.
* * *
It aroused him unbearably, even in his sated state, to see the convulsion of her throat, to witness her taking him into her body while she looked up at him, her beautiful eyes glazed with lust . . . and trust.
Discomfort trickled into his awareness. Her lips were reddened and puffy. He’d been hard on her. As usual. He gently stroked her bee-stung lower lip with the pad of his thumb. Her lips parted. She continued to stare up at him, something in her expression amplifying his guilt.
His need swelled yet again, unexpected and harsh, despite the fact that he’d just come explosively. Made even more uncomfortable by the realization, he took a step back and jerked up his briefs before he reached around her, unfastening the wrist restraint he’d brought with him. He shoved the thin, padded cuff into his pant pocket.
“Are you going to make a habit of this?” he heard her ask quietly.
He glanced up from zipping his pants. Was he behaving coldly again, in the aftermath? His gaze flickered downward to her breasts. They were still exposed, poking out from the lowered cups of her bra. Regret sliced through him. Selfish regret. He wanted to haul her out of the Gazette’s office and take her home. He wanted to lay her on his bed and put his mouth on every inch of her.
“Coming to this bathroom, you mean?” he asked warily.
She nodded. Relief swept through him. She wasn’t referring to him being distant. “Given this time, I just might,” he said, holding her stare as he tucked in his shirt.
Her lush mouth tightened, and he sensed her volatile state. Well, what could he expect, given what he’d just done to her?
Out in the hallway, he heard heels clicking briskly on the tile floor. From the sudden frozen expression on Harper’s face, she’d noticed, too. The footsteps paused outside the door. He leaned and turned up the water pressure on the tap, making a louder white noise. There was a slight pause, and then he heard the steps going down the hall again.
“Maybe you’d like to see me fired from my job?” Harper asked.
“Why would I want that?” he wondered, stepping toward her again. He took her hands and lifted her to a standing position, drawing her against his body.
“So you wouldn’t have to worry about me being a reporter anymore,” she said soberly, looking up at him.
“The only motive I had in coming here,” he said softly, brushing his fingertips over her cheek. “Was seeing you.”
“Wouldn’t it have been easier to call me and ask me to dinner?”
A smile pulled at his lips at her droll tone. Again, he caressed her slightly swollen lower lip.
“You’re right. I didn’t come here to see you. I came here because I had to.”
“Like a compulsion?” she murmured, moving her lips beneath his stroking finger.
“Maybe,” he said, dipping his head. He brushed his mouth over her lips, all too aware of how he’d been so forceful with her earlier. Regretting it.
Wanting to do it all over again.
“Yes,” he amended. “A compulsion.”
“When did you return to Tahoe Shores?” she whispered next to his lips.
“Just now,” he murmured. He plucked at her mouth and drew her closer with his hands at the top of her buttocks. Despite his desire to bring her nearer, she started back and met his stare.
“Just now?”
Undeter
red, he leaned down and nipped at her lips again. He didn’t reply until she reciprocated.
“Yes. My driver is in the parking lot, waiting. We came directly here.”
Again, she pulled her head back. He saw the question in her eyes.
“I’m sorry about having to cancel our dinner the other night,” he said, guessing what was behind her unease—or part of it, anyway. “I wouldn’t have done it, unless it was completely necessary.”
She nodded, and pulled out of his embrace. With her back turned to him, she straightened her bunched bra and buttoned her blouse. She smoothed her hands down her hips and thighs, straightening the narrow skirt she wore. “I understand that things come up, Jacob. Honestly. I do.” She turned and faced him. “But you might have called yourself, instead of having Elizabeth do it. It felt very impersonal.”
He blinked at her bluntness. For a few seconds, irritation flared in him. He’d grown unused to having someone call him out.
“I thought it’d be easier to have Elizabeth do it.”
“Easier for whom?”
His mouth slanted. They just looked at each other for a strained few seconds.
“I should get back to work,” she said.
“Harper, don’t be mad at me.”
He grated his teeth together in irritation at himself. He didn’t say things like that to women. Jesus. It was something he would have said to her when he was thirteen years old—he had said it to her years ago.
“You come into my workplace, pull . . .” She waved impatiently at the toilet, where he’d just fallen on her like a hungry wolf. “Whatever that just was, and then tell me not to be mad?” She stepped toward him aggressively.
“Are you mad because I did it? Or because you liked it?”
She gave him a fulminating glance. He shut his eyes in mounting frustration.
“I’m sorry,” he said stiffly after a moment, meaning it. He didn’t know where he stood with her. He didn’t know where he stood with himself in regard to her. The need to touch her, to possess her, was overriding everything else, including his doubts about her. He reached up and cradled her jaw with both his hands, lowering his head until it hovered over her upturned face.