by Eden Proctor
“Then why did you come?” he asked.
She looked down, her hair falling forward to hide her face, and then she lifted her hand and reached out.
On instinct, Milo did the same, his fingers brushing hers for one electrified minute. Then, the next thing he knew, a light piece of metal, warm from Constance’s touch, fell into his palm.
“I wanted to give this back,” she said.
It took him a moment to process the words, but then he looked down and saw the key that he had given her years ago.
So this was it? She was coming to finally end things?
He looked at her, everything in his body rebelling at that.
Eyes on hers, he reached for her hand and deposited the key back into her palm.
“You’re keeping it,” he said.
A look of pure bliss crossed her face, but the expression immediately darkened and she shook her head.
“No, Milo. I’m done. I don’t work for you anymore,” she said, her voice tight, strangled.
“No, you don’t,” he said.
She frowned, looking confused and then continued. “Then why…?”
“Think of it as a symbol,” he said.
“Of what?”
“Of the key to my heart. You have it, Constance. It’s yours. Forever,” he said.
She furrowed her brow deep, frowned even deeper. “What?”
“My heart. You own it. Keep the key to remind you.”
“What are you saying, Milo?”
“I love you, Constance,” he said.
She flinched as if he’d punched her and then stared at him, her eyes blazing. “Don’t say that, Milo. You don’t mean it, and it’s cruel of you to say so just to get me to work for you again.”
Milo’s own heart squeezed when he saw the anguish on her face, and he went to her, capturing her face between his hands, his eyes on hers. “No, Constance. I mean it. I love you. I want you with me forever,” he said.
She didn’t look away, but he saw the doubt that warred with hope in her eyes, prayed that the hope would win.
“Do you…? Do you mean it?” she whispered, almost as if she couldn’t quite get her words out.
“More than anything I’ve ever meant in my life, Constance. I want you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” he said, his eyes searching hers.
When she looked down, his heart dropped, but when she lifted her eyes, it soared. The feelings he felt, so deep they shook him to his core, were reflected in her eyes. He wanted to yell his happiness, but instead he leaned forward and caught her lips with his.
At the first contact, they both sighed deep, Constance’s response telling him she had missed this as much as he had.
The kiss, which had started out slow and soft, deepened, intensified, and soon Milo was kissing her ravenously as his hands roamed over her body. He cupped her breasts, letting their fullness overflow his hands, the plump, heavy softness ripping a moan from his throat.
After a moment though, he dropped his hands to her ass and pushed her flush against him, her soft tits smacking against his chest, his hard cock throbbing against her stomach.
Without breaking their kiss, he quickly opened her pants and pushed them down her thighs, taking off her panties with them. He paused for only seconds and then drove his hand between her legs, wetness leaking from her to coat the inside of her thighs. Milo let his fingers play there, the little throaty moans that pushed out of Constance’s throat to get lost in his mouth making his already hard dick iron.
And when he pushed two fingers inside her soaking pussy, she pulled her lips from his and cried out, her body pulling tight. She rocked her hips, fucking his fingers with abandonment, and Milo watched her, wondering how he had gone even a day without this.
He decided then he wouldn’t go a minute longer.
Ignoring her greedy pout, he pulled his fingers from her and quickly worked his own pants open, his cock springing from his pants as if seeking her.
When she closed her small, soft fist over his shaft and trailed her thumb across his slit, his knees buckled.
But he recovered and walked them back to his desk.
Constance rested her ass on the edge and spread her legs wide, her sex glistening in the dim light. Milo thought he would come on the spot, but he maintained his control and followed quickly, stepping between her open thighs.
His cock unerringly found her center, and the first hint of wet heat against his sensitive skin again threatened to send him over.
Again he fought the urge and grabbed her full hip in his hand.
Eyes locked on hers, he guided himself into her, not relenting until his cock was buried root-deep in her heat. He stilled for just a moment, enjoying the feeling of her pussy throbbing around his cock, her soft hip in his hands, her warm breath against his neck.
It was heaven, perfection, and he swore he would never go another day without this or go another day without her.
He thrust hard, the motion enough to rock the desk. But Constance simply held him tighter, looping her arms around his neck as he fucked her with all that he had.
“I. Love. You.”
Each word was followed by a hard thrust, but soon, there were no words, only heavy, needful breaths that filled the entire room.
“Milo!” Constance cried out sharply, her body shuddering her climax.
This time, Milo didn’t fight his climax and, with her legs wrapped tight around him, he filled her with his cum.
He held her in his arms until their breathing returned to normal.
Constance pulled back and looked into his eyes. “You meant it, Milo?” she whispered.
He kissed her and then looked into her eyes. “And I’m going to spend the rest of my life proving it.”
* * *
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