by Marian Tee
He couldn’t move fast enough at her words. Staffan pulled her down the ledge in one swift, graceful move while taking care to ensure that no one ever had the chance to see what was – or wasn’t – underneath his trench coat. His heart was beating fast as he made his way to the elevator, with Saffi in his arms.
One thing he had to say about her: she was great for cardio. With her around, there was always a reason for him to move quickly, his heart beating a mile a minute.
When the elevator doors closed on them, Saffi barely had time to breathe before Staffan had her legs wrapped around his waist, his lips slamming on hers. They groaned in unison when her sex rubbed against his cock as she locked her arms around his neck. She pushed herself closer to him, so desperately eager to have every inch of their bodies touching the same time her tongue entered his mouth and her nipples stretched and pricked his chest.
“Staffan.” Just being able to say his name out loud as Staffan kissed and held her in his arms was an exquisite pleasure, and it drove her crazier.
He shuddered, even more aroused by the way her voice lovingly wrapped itself all around his name. She was a natural born temptress, needing no sexual experience to beguile men. All men.
But no one else would fucking have her because Saffi March was his.
The elevator doors finally slid open. Saffi stiffened, and his hold tightened in response. Keeping her in his arms, legs still wrapped around his waist, Staffan walked briskly down the hallway.
Encountering the surprised gazes of housemaids and bellhops made Saffi flush red, and she quickly tucked her face in the crook of his neck, closing her eyes, and inhaling his scent.
Oh God, he smelled so wonderful. He had taken a shower during their flight, and the fresh scent of his shampoo just made her more eager to find out what it would be like to have Staffan make love to her.
Not Staffan Aehrenthal the billionaire rockstar.
Not Sweden’s #1 Sex God.
Not Mr. Rockstar Chic.
But just Staffan – the man she had secretly felt so incredibly close to even though they had never met.
Serendipity, she thought giddily then giggled when another thought occurred to her. “Serendipity” wasn’t enough. If it was Staffan he would call it something else.
Fucking serendipity.
Staffan sensed Saffi smiling against his skin as he took them out of the elevator, and the thought of it made his heart kick up a weird fuss. But it also intensified his arousal and he quickened his pace, practically running towards the suite. Forget about being looking fucking cool! All he wanted was to fuck Saffi March and he was going to fucking kill anyone who fucking stood in his way.
Bob opened the door to his suite for him.
Staffan paused just before going in. “H.” It was an effort to speak when all he could think of was finally making Saffi his.
“Mm?” she mumbled against his skin, the heat of her cheeks telling him how mortified she still felt.
“Do I need to buy condoms?”
“No,” Saffi answered without hesitation. She had bought her pills three months ago, the moment after he called, but he didn’t have to know that.
“Are you sure?”
“The pills are inside my bag. You can check them.”
He pressed a kiss to her hair, unable to help it. “Sorry for being an ass. I just wanted to be sure.”
She kissed his neck. “I understand.”
The tenderness of her action and her words didn’t escape Staffan – or Bob. He looked at his bodyguard, whose face was expressionless. “No one disturbs us,” he said in a hard voice.
Politely keeping his gaze off the girl in his employer’s arms, her face a picture of embarrassment, Bob answered, “Yes, boss.”
The door slammed shut in his face, followed immediately by a long, loud whimper.
Bob allowed himself a small grin. For almost a year now, Staffan had been an unfeeling bastard, uncaring of what happened in his life. Following the breakup, Staffan had been careful to maintain the same image, allowing him to be photographed with different women. But what no one knew outside his crew was that none of those women had made it to his bed.
Who would have thought that someone like this “H” – whose cute and clueless ways made Bob and everyone else suspect her as anything but a groupie – would be the one to get the famous rockstar to start living – and having sex – again?
The Sex God was back.
Bob silently prayed it would stay that way. A happy sexually satisfied Staffan Aehrenthal was a much easier employer to serve than someone who was celibate, perpetually drunk, and violently bad-tempered.
~~~
The moment they entered the room, Staffan pushed her back against the door, kissing her even more hungrily, one hand supporting her while his other hand hurriedly untied the knot keeping his trench coat close around her. Groaning, she helped him get rid of the coat. It fell to the floor, the same time Staffan gently lowered her to the ground without breaking their kiss.
“I’m dying to fuck you.” His voice was a rough, low murmur, his breath fanning her ear as he spoke, and it was like having him sing to her and only her.
Her insides melted at the thought, and she trembled for more than one reason.
Staffan pulled away to rip her cropped top away, leaving her completely naked.
Saffi whimpered, unbearably turned on at the realization that she had nothing on while Staffan was still fully clothed. It was deliciously decadent, something that no one who knew Saffi March would ever imagine happening to her.
His eyes devoured her, and he growled in protest when she started to cover her breasts and cross her legs together in order to shield herself.
“Don’t tell me an experienced woman like you is shy about being naked.”
Knitting kingfish!
She had almost forgotten what she was supposed to be tonight and the rest of the weekend. Saffi forced herself to let her hands fall away from her body. Straightening, she slowly walked past him, her hips swaying---a timeless and instinctive wile that she unconsciously used.
His dick grew larger and harder, and his eyes followed Saffi’s every move. She could never be a groupie. Saffi was just too beautiful inside, too innocent, and too refined to be one step above a paid whore. But she was a natural-born temptress, and every second that went by convinced Staffan that he had finally found the girl who might just erase the vile bitterness of the past.
She turned around, and his throat became dry as her long, curly hair swayed becomingly against her back as she turned to face him, her beautiful breasts pert and upright, nipples outstretched, and the pink tender flesh between her thighs begging to be kissed.
Saffi tried not to frown nervously when she realized that Staffan hadn’t followed her further into his suite. She shifted on her feet, not knowing what to do or how to act. It was hard to keep still when she was naked inside a room with Staffan Aehrenthal.
The thought of it made her want to pinch herself.
Staffan still hadn’t moved.
“Ahem.” She tried to sound confident and demanding.
He did his best not to smile. He also tried to ignore the way his dick ached like hell.
“Why are you there?”
“I’m waiting for you to tell me what I’m supposed to do next,” he answered lazily, delighting in the way her big dark eyes became even bigger. “I want you to call the shots.”
Saffi stammered, “Uhh, no. You call the shots.” She tried not to sound so panicky and desperate. If he left her to call the shots, nothing was going to happen and she wanted, oh dear Lord she wanted something to happen between them. She was dying for it.
Staffan slowly shook his head. “I want to see how good you are, H.” He raised a brow. “Or are you telling me all those stuff you said are just lies?”
“Of course not!” She was really getting used to lying. In fact, she had completely lost count of the number of lies she had uttered in less than 24 hours that sh
e had spent with Staffan.
He said simply, “Then show me.”
Right. Show him. What had she gotten herself into? Saffi cleared her throat. “Well…” She tried to recall all the steamy scenes from her favorite books. “Do you want me to undress you or…”
“Your call.”
Saffi inhaled sharply, feeling like Staffan had this God-given ability to torment her.
He waited patiently, knowing that she was going to surprise him.
And she did.
Saffi pushed herself up on the executive table behind her, trying to do it like a sex siren but then she accidentally shoved the marble ash tray off, causing it to crash on the ground. The sound made her jump. “Romantic razorfish!”
This time he had to ask, “Did you say anything?”
Saffi thought quickly. “A romantic Robin Thicke song, I said.”
“Are you sure?” he asked straight-faced. “I think I heard you say something –ish in the end.”
“A song-ish?”
“I see.” Staffan focused on removing his watch, using the time to control his amusement.
“I…I need some music to get me going.”
“Ah.”Playing along, he walked where his iPod was docked – all the hotel suites he stayed at were always pre-arranged and pre-equipped according to his needs. A few seconds later, the instrumental beats of Lost Without You filled the room. Staffan turned to her again. “Is that okay?”
The amused gleam in his eyes stung a little. Maybe he was comparing her to other Gs and found her wanting? Without thinking, Saffi slowly let her legs fall open, deciding to just wing everything from this moment.
Staffan’s jaw dropped, and it dropped even lower when Saffi slowly cupped her breasts.
“I thought I’d give you reason to take your clothes off.”
“Fuck yes.” His fingers swiftly worked on his buttons.
The fire in his eyes made her wet, and Saffi could feel the moisture building between her legs, making her folds slick. Knowing that the heat in his gaze was for her - only for her - made Saffi bolder, and it felt entirely natural that she moved her hands again.
When he saw Saffi slowly hold her nipples and gently roll it between her fingers, Staffan groaned, his fingers fumbling to a stop.
Her fingers ceased moving.
“Don’t stop,” he said harshly.
“Then don’t stop taking your clothes off.”
“Deal.” He worked on the last button again and her fingers started moving once more, this time pulling her nipples up, as if wanting them to be more erect. His shirt finally fell to the floor, and his dick thrust all the way up at the sight of Saffi’s eyes widening in open fascination. She stared at his chest like it was the most magnificent thing she had ever seen, her eyes lingering on his abs.
He flexed instinctively.
She gasped.
“Do it again,” she whispered.
Saffi’s innocent demand made Staffan want to tear across the room and just take her. But he managed to quell the wild desires of his body and focused on flexing his muscles again.
She pinched her nipple with each flex.
She moaned. He growled.
“Pants,” she gasped.
“Pussy,” he ordered as his hands went to the buckle of his belt.
Saffi couldn’t help but whimper at what he was asking, but even so her fingers were already moving. Her parted legs shook as she slowly let her fingers graze her wet flesh.
“Does it feel good?” he asked hoarsely as he threw his belt to the floor.
She couldn’t help tracing her own folds, up to down, imagining it was Staffan touching her. The sensation her fingers created, coupled with the heated images inside her mind, made Saffi arch up in blatant need. “Yes.”
Saffi’s desire-coated voice almost pushed him to the edge.
She looked at him and could have wept when she realized he still had his black briefs on. “I want you naked,” she half-demanded, half-begged in a voice tremulous with need.
And he wanted to fuck her, over and over, until she would be completely filled with his cum.
Staffan managed to say, “Then open yourself to me.” When she stared at him with wide eyes, he gritted out, “Now!”
The command made her whimper again, but it also heightened the need inside her, making her almost desperate to do what he asked. When she reached for herself for two hands, he shook his head.
“Just one hand.”
Her left hand fell back while her other hand moved closer. And then she was parting her own folds, pulling it open as widely as she could with her thumb and middle finger. She gasped as she stretched herself open. It made her feel so beautifully exposed to Staffan’s ravenous gaze.
Staffan reached for his briefs and pulled it down.
When he straightened, his dick was finally out for her to see, big, long, and oh so hard and eager to be inside her.
Saffi moaned again. “Staffan!” Now she realized why he wanted her one hand free. Because he knew she would need it to touch herself. And so she did.
The sight of Saffi touching herself, of wanting him so much she had to masturbate, demolished what little control he had over himself.
“Staffaaaaan!”
Suddenly he was there, down on his knees, head between her legs, and mouth – oh his wonderful wicked mouth was on her flesh. He started to lick her, hard enough that she went completely limp in desire. Her body fell back and her hands gripped the table’s edge behind her head.
“Staffan!” She couldn’t help screaming his name as he continued to torment her with his tongue, which danced just as beautifully as the rest of his body. She felt Staffan pushing her legs up and then placing them over his shoulders. She immediately locked her legs around his neck.
Saffi’s pink, quivering pussy was the best he had ever tasted. Staffan didn’t know why. He simply knew it was so, and right now the fact that her pussy was the best he ever had was more than fucking enough for his dick.
“Staffan!” Her screams were making it harder and harder for him to control himself. Staffan had planned to torment her, to seduce her into telling the truth but right now he knew those plans were going to hell. He hadn’t counted on being insane with need, of dying if he did not let his dick bury itself in her moist, warm passage.
“Staffan!” His name broke out in a shocked gasp as she suddenly found herself being carried, her thighs resting on his shoulders, his mouth still on her. She swayed and had to grip his hair for balance, but still Staffan kept moving until he reached the bed.
He knelt on the bed before slowly lowering Saffi on her back, even as his kiss relentlessly continued in driving her mad.
“I’m c-coming!” Her legs dropped from his shoulders and fell splayed open on the bed.
He moved up to bite her clit. “Is that so?”
She screamed and beat his shoulder, hating and loving the taunting tone of his voice. Her head tossed and turned on the pillow. “Staffan, please.”
“What is it?”
She squeezed her eyes shut in embarrassment even as she gritted out, “Make me come!”
He laughed, the sound triumphant and possessive. “As you wish, H.” He thrust his tongue in.
It was more than enough.
She came with a scream, her body jerking at the strength of her release.
Staffan pulled himself up, knowing it was the optimal time to take her virginity.
Her dazed eyes met his, desire and understanding in it. “Staffan,” she whispered as his arms rested against each side of her face.
“I’m going to take your virginity now.”
She nodded.
He buried his dick, and her wet and quivering pussy took him all in, her own release smoothing and easing his passage. There was no pain, and he was more than glad for it. He hadn’t wanted to see his Saffi hurt for any reason.
Saffi could feel the last of her juices dripping out of her, but even so she could already feel her desire buil
ding, her inner muscles slowly tightening around Staffan’s dick, which felt wondrously large and thick, almost too much so.
Above her, Staffan’s jaw was clenched hard, and she knew he was exercising extraordinary control to keep himself moving.
My love, she thought.
The sudden reappearance of the dreamy smile he was so fascinated with made his body jerk.
She gasped.
He gritted his teeth. “Fuck. Sorry. Does it still---”
Her smile came back, and its emotion was mirrored by her doe-like eyes as she looked up at him. “Do it again.”
Staffan didn’t need to be asked twice.
He pulled almost all the way out before sinking in.
She moaned.
He did it again and again, reining in his impulse to ram into her like a stallion in a rut. Staffan was rewarded just a few moments later as Saffi’s hands crept over his shoulders, her nails reaching into his back before digging deep into his skin.
“More.”
One hand went under her nape while another went under her butt. And then without warning, he was pounding into her, fast, hard, and furious and all she could do was hang on to him and let Staffan take her as he willed.
The positions of his hands took away her equilibrium, making it seem as if she was but a doll that was entirely his to please. And she loved it. Every second of it. Every way of it. She wanted more and wished it would never end.
“More, Staffan,” she panted, shameless now in her need, deliberately spurring him to possess her.
“Fuck!” Her words inflamed him, and his hips began to pump into her more furiously.
Saffi’s head fell back, her nails digging deeper. “Staffan.”
“I know, baby.”
That one term of endearment did it for her.
She screamed, convulsing around him.
“FUCK!” He pistoned into her as fast as he could, his balls slapping heavily against her pussy. And then he was there, too, joining her over the edge of their release, and he shouted her name as he shot his cum inside her.
When his body fell heavily on top of her, she immediately tightened her arms around him. Her legs went around his hips, too, and she wished it was enough to keep his dick and his cum inside her.