by Sara Fawkes
Fingers slid between my thighs, running along the thin cotton of my panties, and a moan escaped my mouth. My hips pressed down seeking more contact but again the hand disappeared and I bit back a groan. The respite allowed me to gather my thoughts to answer, although it was difficult. “Some place where I mattered and helped people.”
“Good answer,” he murmured, then the hand was back pressing at the soft flesh between my legs, turning me into a writhing mess. My palms pressed down on the desk, nails digging into the cool wood as I felt a rush of heat in my belly. A hand smoothed over my back and down one hip as the fingers continued to tease and torment me. I kept my trembling arms on the desk as something hard pressed against my backside. The fingers finally moved beneath the panties and pressed inside me, sliding easily along the wet folds. I choked on another cry, trying and failing for silence.
“My office is sound proof and the door is locked,” he murmured, answering a question I hadn’t thought to ask. Fingers penetrated deep inside me, causing my body to quake. “Before we go any further however we need to get rid of these.”
The thin cotton panties I wore were pulled down my legs and without questioning I stepped out from them as they hit the floor. A shoe pressed against the inside of foot, widening my stance as his hips pushed against my backside. The fingers between my legs never let up their exploration; my breathing was rough as Jeremiah lifted the skirt to bunch at my waist, his bulge thrusting against my backside.
His thumb, which had previously been massaging the hard bud between my legs, slid back to my rear opening. I surged forward in shock, the desk and his hips holding me prisoner as the thumb eased around the tight hole. The idea of a man being interested back there had never occurred to me; I wasn’t so naïve as to be ignorant of the idea, but it had never come up before. Thinking proved difficult however as he continued to manipulate my body until I was trembling with need.
Lips pressed against my neck. “Eventually,” he purred in that deep voice, the word a promise, as he caressed the opening once more then moved his thumb back to my clit. By now nearly every breath was a moan as I tilted my hips up, desperately needing to be filled. His fingers teased and tormented but never let me fall over into orgasm.
Something shifted behind me; Jeremiah lowered his body along my bare bottom, then teeth grazed the skin over one buttock as hands spread my cheeks. Before I could even comprehend what was coming, I felt for the first time in my life a tongue against my most intimate of places, licking up the crease then pushing inside my weeping opening. I surged forward against the desk with another loud cry, and couldn’t stop myself from making another as he controlled my body’s responses with tongue and fingers. The unfamiliar and exotic feel, unlike anything I’d ever experienced before with my limited activities, pushed me over the edge. I came loudly, my nails scratching against the hard surface of the desk and my body bucking uncontrollably.
I laid my head on my hands as I heard the crinkle of the condom wrapper, then a moment later the hard length of his cock slid between my ass cheeks. The fingers were pulled out only to be replaced by a thick presence that forced its way inside my tight opening. I moaned again as he pushed inside, one thick arm reaching around my waist and pulling me tight against his body. He pressed me down against the desk as he slid out then in, stretching and electrifying the tender skin. Still riding the wave of my orgasm, his movements left me panting and frantic, pushing back against him wildly.
“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he murmured in my ear as he thrust hard, earning another cry from me. I braced myself against the edge of the dark wood as he pounded into me, his thrusts shaking my entire body. One hand lifted to my neck, tilting my head back against his shoulder and partially restricting my breathing; it didn’t stop the breathy moans I made as another wave washed over me and my body shuddered for the second time in as many minutes.
My head fell to the side and teeth grazed my neck, running along the line of my shoulder as his hand pulled away the material of my blouse. The soft feel of his lips across my skin was a direct contrast to the hard pumps of his hips, but I reveled in the experience, allowing him to set and control the pace. Two orgasms left my body limp, drained from the experience, but Jeremiah held me up easily in strong arms. I arched myself back against him even though my skin was almost too sensitive for his thrusts, the pleasure too much.
Like before, his teeth sank into my shoulder as he shuddered, his hard thrusts almost lifting me from the floor. He let out a ragged grunt and with one last stab he shook against my back, coming inside me. The hand around my neck released and blood rushed to my head again, making me dizzy. He laid me carefully atop the desk, resting his hard body atop mine as we both struggled to catch our breath.
After a moment he pulled out and stepped away, leaving me alone against the cool wood. It took a moment before I finally became aware of how exposed I was, but I still spent another minute catching my breath before I lowered my skirt. I was wet enough that sitting in the chair would stain my skirt so I wobbled on my heeled pumps, using the desk as a brace.
“That wraps up this interview. By the way, you’re hired.”
Still breathing hard, I turned my head to look over at Jeremiah Hamilton standing at a small coffee bar on one side of the office. His suit and dress pants were back in place, as impeccable as if nothing had just happened. The look on his face was probing and inquisitive, but I couldn’t tell what he thought to discover. I tried to feel shame, anger, outrage at my wanton actions and his taking advantage of my situation, but all I could come up with was a deep exhaustion and sense of security.
I am so screwed.
A hand at my elbow turned me gently, and a glass of water was pressed into my hands. “Go clean yourself up,” Jeremiah said as I took a sip of the cool liquid, his voice as soft as I’d yet heard. “I’ll make arrangements and we can leave once you’ve come back.”
My brain wasn’t firing on all cylinders so I thought perhaps I had missed something. “Arrangements for what?”
“You said you carry your passport with you?”
I blinked, back to being confused. An odd question. “Um, yes, I do?”
He nodded as if that answered everything. “Perfect. Then you’ll come with me today and can serve as my escort.”
I took another sip of the water, still baffled by the direction of this conversation. “Your escort where?”
“Paris. We leave in an hour.”
About The Author
Sara Fawkes has always loved spinning tales. One who’s been writing since she was a little girl (and has the home made books from preschool to prove it), she loves creating stories and characters and interesting messes for them to get into. And for the handsome guy to always get the girl in the end. An avid traveler and adventure motorcyclist, her dream job includes selling everything off and leaving civilization to see the world on two wheels, writing in cafes in each country she visits, and living off her writing. In the meantime however, she lives in California with her menagerie of pets and, when not writing, loves to rebuild old motorcycles/cars and practice her fiddle. You can find her online at http://sarawriteserotica.wordpress.com talking about whatever strikes her fancy.
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