by Mia Madison
“A new coat as well,” he burrs against my lips, before dragging my mouth into his again.
My tits are crushed against his chest, solid as a prison gate. His hand glides down over my hip to rest on the outside of my thigh while his fingers yank my skirt up, up, up. I moan into his lips as the fabric comes over my ass and I'm completely exposed.
The air on my dampness is invigorating, sending flickers of lust high into my chest. My boss fills his hand with my flesh and squeezes hard. So hard it almost hurts, hurts enough to send a wave of pleasure through my core. Shocking me with its force.
My hands are all over him, relishing the hard swells of muscle like twined rope and then I reach for his shirt buttons. But Darcy bats my hand away and takes a step back. He's breathless but not nearly as much as me, panting and hitching for air.
For more.
For him.
“Take it off,” he says, pointing to my own shirt.
I do as he says, undoing each button then sliding the top down my arms until it pools on the ground on top of my coat.
“And the bra.”
I shake my head.
“Someone might come.”
“Take it off.”
I feel compelled to obey his command. I can't refuse him. I reach behind and unhook the bra, then drop it too, brazenly to the floor. Darcy's eyes sear into my breasts, lapping them up with all his appreciation I enjoy, making me feel desirable again.
This man wants me. His dick is straining in his pants for me. I almost don't care that we're standing in a public parking lot and anyone could come out of the elevator with no warning. Maybe there are cameras and that surly concierge at the front desk is watching.
I don’t care. All I care about is that I can't wait any longer for my boss to fuck me. I need him inside me, stretching me, forcing me open for him. He's driven me wild for the last twenty four hours playing my body like a fiddle and now I yearn for relief with a painful intensity.
He drinks up my body, his eyes trailing from my tits down to my bare slit, my thighs and all the way back up. He extends his hand again, which I take and he hauls me into him so I come crashing into his rock hard chest wall. My bare tits mash into his ridges as his hands cup my ass cheeks and my flesh squeezes between his fingers.
I pull his head down to mine and kiss his mouth hungrily. Again he pulls away and turns me to face out from him. He pulls me into him so his chest wall lines my back, his arm wrapping my ribs so my tits are shelved and spilling over his filthy thick forearm. His hand smooths down over my tummy, over the bunched up skirt and traces over my slit.
I shudder, pinned tight in his arm as sparkles fly up my core. My clit is bulging and swollen with lust for more of his fingers delving into me. Pushing inside, opening me up. He rubs circles around the ravenous point until I'm shaking in his hold, moaning and losing every corner of my soul.
His bind around me loosens and he pushes me to bend forward. Lower and lower until my hands have to reach to catch myself on the edge of the low-slung Onyx and I'm at a perfect right angle. With my ass cocked high in the air, my bare breasts dangling and swaying. Bent over before him, Darcy's huge hand is resting heavy on my butt making my pussy clench and twinge with anticipation.
“Someone might -” I start to protest.
My bare ass and pussy mouth are spread for anyone emerging from the elevator to witness. This is crazy. Crazy fucking good but still, total madness. But my body is hungering forward, insisting that there's no turning back. I need release and now.
Before I finish protesting my complete exposure to strangers, my words are suppressed by my sharp hitch of breath when his hands comes down on my tender cheek. I try to stand upright and tell him I am not a girl he can spank, except his free hand is holding me prone and I can't move an inch.
Also liquid is now running freely down my inner thighs from the warm suffusion of pleasure spreading through my body. My ass cheek stings but in a delicious way that has me begging for more.
I don't have to wait long.
Darcy's hand comes down again and again, raining sharp little slaps on my butt that makes me whimper with the pleasure of pain. So close. His hand so close to my pulsating hole. The definite craving to be spanked across my pussy has me writhing beneath him like a mad thing.
“You like that, Ma Belle?”
I quiver, gasping so hard and biting down on my lips so as not to scream out, all I can do is nod vigorously. The way he says my name in the old French version – Ma Belle – My Pretty - makes every pore tingle with need.
“Good. You want more?”
I nod fiercely again.
“I want you.” I plead.
Chapter TWELVE
Darcy
She looks more tantalizing than anything I have ever seen in my entire life. So fucking hot, bent over my car, bare tits hanging, her naked pussy pulsating eagerly under my brute hand. I could gaze on her all night, like some art in a pricey gallery.
Except she is priceless. A sweet and pure woman with powerful emotions that run the entire gamut of sensation. And now she's mine. I had no choice but to claim her the instant she mentioned she'd finished with the jerk and that he was trying to get her back.
Now I know I've always wanted her from the first time she stepped into my office but the desire was repressed. I may be unworthy of her goodness and purity but that's for her to decide. Right now, she's begging for my cock and that's what she's getting.
When I'm ready.
Because I intend to take my sweet time. Enjoying her wild side as she lets me spread her even though she believes anyone may come into the garage. Savoring the blood rising faster to her pale soft skin with every clap of my hand. The vision of her pink ass cheeks makes me want to lick her slit from end to end. I want all of her at once. To flip her over and bite her bulging little clit. Then flip her back around and lap up her ambrosia from hole to hole. Lap her juices then shove them into her tight little asshole. I will never have enough of Mabel.
“I need you,” she pleads, trying to turn her head to look at me.
“What do you need?” I ask.
I need her too. Naked. Stripped totally bare for me. The skirt around her waist is a serious impediment.
“You,” she mewls. “Inside me. Please let me come.”
“So pretty, Ma Belle.”
I corkscrew one finger inside her tight pussy. Fuck, she is so tight. And she immediately clamps down on me, tugging me deeper, harder. She pushes down on her palms to arch her back and grind and buck her pussy down on my thick finger. Fuck, she's a little wild cat once she's incited.
I am so tempted to take out my searing dick that's pounding its own way through my pants. She looks incredible bent over my car and there could be nothing hotter than sliding into her wet pussy and having her hug my fat girth.
But I can feel her orgasm rising through every inch of her tunnel. She's thrashing and moaning, her body quivering on my fingers as I shove a second one inside her and pump her dripping pussy harder. I'll let her come but not on my cock. Not yet.
“Come for me now, Mabel.”
She moans louder and it requires only a few circles of her clit and then another ramming in her hole to make her shake through a riotous climax. I ride her on my fingers, pressing against her g-spot as she screams out for more.
When she's finished, I withdraw my fingers and raise her up. I sit on the low car and pull her between my legs, sitting her on one thigh. Delicious how her pussy juice is leaking through the wool of my pants and the scent of her climax rises between us. So fucking arousing. My dick is still rigid with lust for her especially with her perfect big tits crushed against my muscle.
I give her a little taste of her pleasuring from my fingers then stroke her relaxed clit, giving her aftershocks of orgasm that make her curl into my shoulder. She makes a couple of attempts to pull her skirt down or try to hide but I prevent her. I want her naked. If I could keep her naked in my office, in my bed permanently, my life
would be ideal.
“I feel so exposed,” she mewls against my neck.
“You're perfect,” I tell her.
“But someone might come. They'll see me.”
“You think I would ever allow another man to look at your body now I've claimed you for myself?”
“But we're in a public garage,” she whispers, not wanting to contradict me.
“My garage.”
“Yes, but filled with lots of other cars.”
“My cars.”
“All these belong to you?”
“Yeah.”
“Wow.”
I know I'm as asshole but what else am I gonna spend it on? I already own about a hundred orphanages in Africa and stuff.
“It's pretty hard to spend a billion dollars when you keep earning more.”
“I can imagine,” she says. I'm relieved to hear no disdain in her voice.
“So you don't think I'm a spoilt asshole?”
“Not at all. I know how hard you work. You deserve your pleasure.”
When she uses that word, her cheeks turn pink in that adorable way.
“You deserve yours too and I intend to give it to you.”
I kiss her on the lips and only then do I stop swirling the juices in her pussy, lap her up from my fingers lasciviously and pick up her clothes.
“Get dressed. I'll take you home.”
I don't miss the small pout that she quickly erases. I get the idea she wants to spend the night now that I've made her mine. I'm right if the frown that replaces the sulk is any indication of what she's feeling.
“That's it?” she says as I hold out her coat for her to place her arms into.
“You want more already?” I smile. “Greedy little girl.”
“It feels weird going home after all that – passion between us. What about you?”
“What about me?”
“You know what I mean.”
“I do but I need you to be direct with me. Always.”
“Don't you want to get off?” she says bluntly.
That's my girl.
“What makes you think I didn't?”
“I – don't know.”
I close her door and head around to the driver's side.
We're halfway across the bridge before I speak again. Her confusion is becoming painful for her and I won't ever be the source of anything that hurts her.
“What does your ex want with you every day?” I ask.
“Oh, he's apologizing for what happened in Mexico.”
“Which is?”
She tells me everything and I want to kill the asshole even more violently than previously. I hate men that treat women like that. It's childish and beyond selfish to inflict that kind of pain. Especially on my doll.
“And he wants me to go out on Valentines Day so he can show how sorry he is.”
“Right,” I grit.
Over my fucking dead body.
“So Darcy Eglinton is a very aristocratic name for a mechanic's son,” she blusters, clearly embarrassed at bringing up the big romance day with me. “I always imagined you came from a huge mansion, I mean. I don't know as much about you as I thought.”
“No you don't.”
She looks hurt by that so I have to add something more.
“My grandfather was pretty well off. But my old man was a drunk and an abuser. His father cut him off so I guess you can say he was an inspiration.”
“Maybe negative inspiration can be more powerful,” she says. “If that's all there is.”
I can't believe I've got the sexiest, purest, sweetest girl who also happens to be smart as a street scholar. It makes me want to kiss her when we reach her small apartment building and I open the door to help her out.
“Goodnight then,” she says when it becomes clear that I'm not going to.
“Goodnight, Ma Belle.”
She laughs lightly at my corruption of her name then goes inside.
Chapter THIRTEEN
Mabel
I don't know whether to feel confused or delighted by the incredible hook up with Darcy. I've never had a man give me so much pleasure and take none for himself. But he said he did get off, so what the hell does that mean?
I call Wen to ask her unbiased outside opinion and I can't think of anyone else I want to share this with. Just in case Darcy is toying with me and I have to face a bunch of smug I told you so's for sleeping with my boss. Not even sleeping, not even sex, I let him use me as a sex doll. I shouldn’t feel so delicious but it was the most decadent and hottest thing I've ever done. I don’t regret an instant. My pores are still swelling with the lusciousness of what he does to me.
By the morning though, I'm feeling a little less secure about everything. Darcy doesn't allow me to touch him or share his body with me. He pulls unbelievable explosions of pleasure from my body but doesn’t permit me to do the same – or try to.
And when he's done with me he drops me off like a worn out pack of cards at a gaming table. I can't continue going into the office as Darcy Eglinton's fuck toy. I've loved him for so long and that only makes this more difficult.
A text comes in as I'm running out the door and I grab at my phone. Hoping it's one certain person.
It's a Valentine card.
From my bestie, Wen.
A picture of a Mexican sombrero holding up a placard that says;
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Tamales are hot
And so are you
It makes me smile all the way to the subway, knowing that my friend is trying to cheer me up after being dumped the week before this romantic day. I've got no cell service during my journey and it's too cold to reply when I come up from the underground into midtown.
I dash toward the office, desperate to get inside the warm building and see Darcy's face.
“Mabel.” A shout behind me has me wheeling around. “What's the rush?”
“Sam, what are you doing here?”
My heart sinks at the sight of him yet again.
“I'm here to say Happy Valentine's of course.”
He hands me a single long stem rose that makes me think of the ones The Bachelor hands out. Although in this case, I've already been sent home.
“It's too late,” I tell him.
“It's never too late. If you'll just come out with me tonight, let me explain.”
“There's nothing you can say to change what I saw. Please I have to go or I'll be late.”
Sam tries to grab me but I wrench my arm away. Not before he pushes the stalk into my purse so as to not be left standing with the rose.
“I'm not giving up on us, Mabel,” he shouts down the street so people stare as I pass, no doubt wondering why I'm being so mean.
I arrive at the penthouse floor of the office filled with anticipation. As well as some trepidation. I love my job and I love my boss. Sadly those two things can't go together. Not now. I've been compromised and I don't regret it but I wonder how I'll ever find a job as good as the one I have.
Once I have coffee, I check the diary and my heart sinks. Darcy has an all day meeting out in Denver. He must have flown out on his jet early this morning. And he won't be back until after office hours. I didn't expect him to be my valentine but I really need to see him. I need to know what I am to him now. All this is driving me to the edge of distraction.
I'm super busy all day but the time still drags without the thrill of seeing Darcy's gorgeous face coming in or out of his office.
“Miss Trellis? Mabel Trellis?”
“Yes, that's me.”
I look up to see a delivery guy holding a massive bunch of red roses. The huge headed velvety kind. Sam really meant it when he said he wasn't giving up.
“Thank you.” I start to dig around in my purse for a tip.
“Over here,” the delivery boy signals to another man waiting down the hall.
He picks up the bundle waiting on the desk and comes toward me, his arms laden with beauti
ful flowers.
“Wait, are these all for me?” I ask, in shock and a little embarrassed that the other women in the office are looking over and pointing.
“You sure have a lot of admirers,” Alana says, walking past at the wrong moment.
“No, these are all on one card,” the delivery man says, “And it's all good, the gratuity was included.”
My desk is surrounded suddenly with other secretaries, all clamoring at the same time to know who sent me the flowers. Did I get back together with the ex? I'm too overwhelmed to speak and Penny has to help by running to the kitchen for extra vases.
“Who are they from, Mabes?” Penny asks.
“She doesn't know. It's an anonymous admirer. Is it you Trey?” Someone asks the copier boy.
“Could be.”
“Where's Darcy today?” Penny inquires.
“Out,” I snap, way too fast.
“Oh, I bet he has a bunch of cards in his mail from all the lovesick supermodel billionaire hunters.”
“I'd send him one if I thought I'd stand a chance,” someone else quips.
Finally they all drift back to their own desks and I'm left surrounded by the beautiful aroma of the roses and lilies that I know came from my boss. Sam could never afford all this and wouldn't think of it if he could.
I open the huge box of Belgian chocolates and hand them around to everyone. Darcy sent two boxes, one large and one small with a luxurious silk bow that's too good to pull apart. I just want to keep it like an ornament and look at it always.
I notice that there are designer shopping bags piled up on the leather sofa in Darcy's office. I'm dying to take a peak but it seems wrong. A couple of the bags are from women's stores and I don't want to imagine what I'll find. Or who those are for. Perhaps he has a list of gifts to buy for Valentines longer than at Christmas, which I shop for him.
I loiter around the office as late as possible, until everything is in absolutely perfect order and I have no excuse to wait longer. He's not coming back. I'll have to wait until tomorrow. Oh well, at least I have armfuls of flowers to take home and my desk is still covered by more.
“You little slut.”
I whirl around on the sidewalk and see Sam red faced and swaying slightly from one beer too many.