Mr. Corporate (Mister #3)

by JA Huss

  Her hands fist my hair a little tighter. Her back arches just the slightest bit more. Her breathing kicks up a level. Sex with Tori isn’t boring because, while she does like to be worshipped, she also likes to hear my dirty mouth as I do it. It turns her on so bad, she gets animalistic and wild. Just like she is in real life.

  Everything about Tori and me is real.

  Except all the things that aren’t.

  Push it down, Corporate. Time for that later.

  “Licking you between your legs, Miss Arias… well, there’s enough sweetness in your pussy to give me a toothache.”

  She giggles this time. But her thighs also come together and squeeze against my shoulders.

  I push my tongue inside her, sucking on her desire, and then withdraw and crawl my way up her body. Her lips are already there, meeting mine so she can kiss me.

  She likes to taste my mouth after I lick her.

  We kiss for a few moments, one of her hands letting go of my hair so she can reach down between my legs and wrap her palm around my thick cock. Our tongues are seeking, and pushing, and twisting as she pumps me—slowly at first, then with a regular rhythm.

  “What comes next?” I ask. She might not like the kink, but she has always loved the talking. Sex with Tori has always been about the foreplay. We’ve had whole conversations during sex. We’ve had fights during sex. We’ve made plans during sex, and plotted vacations, and told each other just exactly what would happen on said getaways. We’ve even had philosophical discussions during sex.

  And it has always turned me on that I can make her come while discussing politics, or an art exhibition we saw the night before, or our grocery list.

  “Next…” Tori says, tracing a fingernail down the curve of my bicep. “You probably want me to suck your cock.”

  I smile and let out a small laugh. “I would not turn it down,” I say, pushing a finger between her legs so I can continue to play.

  “I bet the only reason you’re sorry there’s no lights is because you won’t be able to see my lips as they wrap around your tip. You won’t be able to see my tongue as I lick you like candy.”

  “We’re going to do this again tomorrow morning, so I’m not the least bit worried about it.”

  “You’re a cocky bastard,” Tory says. “Thinking I’ll just be here for you whenever you want me.”

  “Nah,” I say into her mouth as I kiss her again. “I don’t think that. I think every time is the last time, Tori. So I’m going to make the most of right now and hope for the best tomorrow.”

  She’s silent. But she never stops kissing me. Her palm never stops squeezing my cock. Her hand never stops fisting my hair.

  I want to fuck her so bad right now. But I already messed up the last time by not letting her come first. And I won’t do that again. She might get the wrong idea about my intentions tonight.

  So I break our kiss and take my lips to her breasts. I gather one together, squeezing. They are so big, my hand barely fits around them. And even though I can’t see her nipples, I know they are large, and round, and just a shade or two darker than her skin. I bite, her back arches, her fist leaves my hair and her hand comes to rest on the side of my stubbled face. Her other palm squeezes my dick.

  “I missed you,” she says in a low somber voice.

  I pause from licking her nipple and place my lips on hers. I kiss her words away. I kiss her fear away. I kiss it all away and say, “I’m still here. I will always be here.”

  Her legs open for me, just a little. But it’s a signal I know well. So I ease forward until my cock is pushing against her entrance. She draws in a deep breath as I enter. Slowly stretching her to make room for me. Slowly penetrating her to connect us together.

  Both fists are in my hair now, and she’s tugging me down. My face to her face. My lips to her lips. We kiss as we start. This is how she likes it. Slow, and soft, and filled with silent words of worship and promises.

  “I think I’ll keep you forever, Miss Arias,” I say, when she takes a breath. “I think I own you.”

  “Don’t be a caveman, Mr. Conrad. You know I’m nobody’s property.”

  “You’re wrong,” I say, starting to pump her harder. “You’ve always been mine and you know it. You just hate the fact that I’m right and you’re wrong. You just hate the fact that you love me, even though I’m pushy, and controlling, and want you to wear an apron—”

  She slaps my face, but she moans as she does it. “Stop talking,” she says.

  But what she really means is… keep going.

  “I’m gonna come inside you tonight. I’m going to get you pregnant, and marry you, and then make you walk around the house naked.”

  “Except for that apron, right?” she breathes into my mouth.

  “Except for that apron. And your belly will get big, and your tits will get bigger, and your pussy will be swollen and sensitive as I bend you over the dining room table and fuck you from behind as you arrange the place settings for my dinner.”

  “You’re a pig and that is never—”

  But I’m fucking her harder now. Her tits are bouncing against her chin and she can’t go on.

  “I’m going to fuck you during dinner. And then I’m going to fuck you as you do the dishes. Bend you over the counter. Let you look out the window at the neighbors as I take your ass. And let you scream to the world as I make you come. Domestic life with me, Miss Arias, won’t be what you think.”

  I grab her under her ass, hoist her up, and walk her over to the wall. I push her back against it as she wraps her arms around my neck and her legs around my hips.

  Every time I’ve done this, my dick has never slipped out of her pussy. It’s like her personal mission is to keep us connected. And she has never let me down.

  “You’re gonna come now, Victoria,” I say, pushing my dick deep inside her as I whisper in her ear. “I’m gonna fuck you against this wall…” My finger slips into the tight pucker of her ass and she gasps. “And I’m going to come with you. Inside you. Get you pregnant, make you mine, keep you forever. You belong with me. Say it.”

  I’m pumping my cock into her hard now. It’s the only way to finish off a caveman fuck. Pressing her against a wall. Smothering her with my power and my body. Telling her all the things she wants to hear and all the things she doesn’t, at the same time.

  She will never admit it, but she likes my version of her future and that’s why she pushed me away. She wants it. She just won’t admit it.

  Chapter Twenty-One - Victoria

  “Shut up, shut up, shut up,” I say, over and over again as West continues to fuck me. Why does he have to say these things?

  “I’m gonna put a ring on that finger, Tori. I’m gonna give you the wedding of a lifetime. I’m gonna fuck you like I’ve never fucked you before that night. And then I’m going to take you to an island, just like this one, and rip your clothes off. Make you walk around naked with me for days, and weeks, and maybe forever. I will eat your pussy everywhere we go on that island. On the rocks, in the waves, lying in the hot sun. I will taste you and then I’ll kiss you, just the way you like. Let you taste it too.”

  “I’m not marrying you,” I say, almost breathless. His finger in my ass is driving me wild. I just want him to put me down, bend me over, and fuck me from behind. I want to feel the weight of him as he collapses onto my back when we are spent. God, why can’t he just do that instead of all this damn talking? “I’m never getting married, I’ve told you that a hundred—”

  But I can’t continue.

  Because he’s reading my mind. He’s carrying me back to the couch. He sets me down and I whimper when his cock slips out from inside me. He bends me over the back of it. Not hard and demanding. Just matter-of-factly. Like my wish is his command.

  My body is weak and I bend when he tells me to bend. I open my legs when he tells me to open them.

  And I wait. The seconds seem like hours as I wait for his dick or his fingers, or his… oh, my God, hi
s tongue.

  He licks me. His fingers are inside me. His hands spread my ass cheeks open and his tongue probes my ass, slips down to my pussy, and… holy shit.

  “You will marry me,” West says as he thrusts his cock inside me again. I’m so wet, he just slips right in.

  But his finger is still playing with my ass and that is what I love. He knows it. I love it, I want him in there too, I want him everywhere, inside me every way. And in that same moment he’s withdrawn and relentless. His cock is painful as he thrusts forward. My back arches and I scream as his dick goes in my ass. His hand is on my hip, and then it’s not, it’s between my legs, strumming my clit.

  I throw my head back and see him. Looking down at me. As I come.

  There is that moment when we are looking at each other. And then there is that moment when we have to close our eyes and see nothing.

  He pulls out and spills his semen all down my back.

  And then he completes my fantasy. He bends forward and covers me with his weight. We are breathing hard, almost gasping for air. And he says, “I’m still gonna come inside you, Miss Arias. I’m gonna get what I want from you. But right now, I think we need to sleep.”

  West gets off me and I miss him immediately. But he’s only gone a second. He’s got a towel when he stands me up. He cleans off his chest, then my back, and we sink into the couch cushions together.

  “I love you, Victoria. I have always loved you.”

  “I know,” I whisper back.

  “You should rethink your life. You should try to imagine the life I’m offering you. Not as a trap, like you always said. But as a… a sanctuary. From all the bad, and all the stress, and all the worries that come with being alone. You don’t have to be alone. You don’t have to be in charge. You don’t have to be in control. It’s really not all it’s cracked up to be.”

  I can see his point. I hate to admit it, but all these years later, after being in charge, and being in control, and being single… I can see it.

  I’m lonely, and scared, and stressed out. I am on the brink of losing everything. People are counting on me and I’m about to let them all down. I am in a bad, dark place.

  But I am also wrapped up tight in Weston Conrad’s arms.

  And I can’t help but wonder if this is what it would be like for real.

  If I was his good little wife.

  Chapter Twenty-Two - Weston

  “Wake up, Tori.” I give her a little nudge and go back to packing the dry bag I found in the closet with the snorkeling gear.

  “What?” she asks, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. Her hair is wild, her face is flushed from the humidity and heat that is making this place feel like a hothouse, and she’s still naked from last night.

  Jesus fucking Christ. I should not have done any of that yesterday. It’s going to be so hard to walk away from her again. But I can’t help myself. She’s so familiar. So easy to fall into. So… perfect. It really sucks that we can’t get along. That we have almost nothing in common when it comes to future plans. That we are both so stubborn.

  She agrees with me during sex sometimes. She slows down and gives it some thought, at least. But I know it’s just the sex talking. She’s in a state where she has to give in. But the next morning she’s always back to her old self.

  We just don’t want the same things in life.

  “What are you doing? What’s going on?”

  She’s so goddamned cute when she wakes up. All confused and innocent. It’s the only time of the day that she lets her guard down.

  “We’re gonna leave,” I say, grabbing her bra and panties and throwing them to her. “Get dressed. I washed your panties, so put them on. I’ve got your skirt and blouse in the bag with my stuff so we’ll have dry clothes once we get there.”

  “Get where?” She’s irritated now. “Where the hell are we going? Is the storm over? Did the pilot come back?”

  “No. But there’s a lull in the storm so we’re going to try to swim over to another island. I saw it when we landed. There’s a building over there. Maybe they have a radio.”

  “Why can’t we just stay here?”

  I ignore her and just continue packing the bag. I’ve already got the handguns in the bottom. I don’t want her to know I’m taking them. And I’ve got two towels, because I have no clue if that other building even has necessities.

  “West? What’s going on?”

  “We just can’t stay here. I have a feeling that storm yesterday was only the beginning. The purple mess is still off in the distance. Like it’s hovering or moving very slowly. But it’s even bigger than it was yesterday. I think it’s a hurricane.”

  “Hurricane? For real?”

  “Yeah, this place is no good, Tori. We need to leave. It’s low, only like thirty feet above sea level. This house will probably flood. That other island was bigger. Higher up. We need to make for it while the break in the storm lasts.”

  “But what if—”

  “It’s not far, Tori. We made it to the sandbar yesterday, right? Well, I know it’s a neap tide right now. The full moon was last week. So even though the water level is higher because of the storm, it’s lower than it should be because of the alignment of the moon and the sun. I think that sandbar is probably submerged a few feet at most. We should still be able to walk on it. I’m betting all those sandbars are like that. We won’t have to swim far. Think of it like a causeway.”

  Tori sits up, looks around, then stands and plants her hands on her hips. “You’re serious? I’m not going in that ocean.”

  “You are. You don’t have a choice.”

  “I have plenty of choices. I think that if there’s a lull in the storm they will be looking for us. We should wait here and—”

  “No one is looking for anyone until that hurricane passes. Don’t you get it? We’re fucked.” I didn’t want to scare her, but I have no choice. We don’t have time for a fight. People could come back. And I’m pretty sure that’s the worst possible thing that could happen. There’s a reason we’re here. And there’s a reason that closet was packed full of guns. I’m trying not to think too hard about it yet, because I don’t want to face some inevitable facts. But none of this is good. It’s bad. Far worse than I first thought before we found those guns.

  “You don’t know that,” she says, still defiant.

  “Do you want to stay here alone?” I don’t want to threaten her with that, either. It’s a low blow and she feels it immediately, because she recoils. But I have no other option. We need to get the fuck off this island. “Because I’m leaving. So if you’d like to stay behind all by yourself, that’s your choice.”

  Tori huffs out some air, silent, but defiant. I let her stew. She’s coming. I know she’s coming. She won’t stay here alone.

  “What if they come looking for us and we’re gone? I think we should leave a note.”

  “We’ll deal with that later. And no,” I stress. “We’re not leaving a note. Just do what I say and things will be fine.”

  “What do you mean, later? And why no note? No. No, no, no. That makes no sense.”

  “It does make sense, Tori. You just don’t have all the information.”

  “Then tell me,” she growls. “What are you keeping from me?”

  “I’m making a decision and that’s the end of it. We’re leaving. So put on your bra and panties and let’s go. The low tide will be here in like an hour. We don’t have much time if we want to take advantage of that.”

  “How do you know all this shit anyway? Since when are you an expert on tides?”

  “I told you,” I say, starting to lose my patience. “I worked on a boat for seven years. This is common knowledge for sailors. The pilot said it was low tide when we landed yesterday, and the tides are regular. They come at regular intervals each day. Can’t you just do what you’re told for once? I mean, unless you’ve got some secret tidal training I don’t know about. But I’m guessing not, because if you did, you’d know I was right and w
e wouldn’t have to argue about it.”

  I stuff the last of the gear into the bag and seal it up.

  “You’re taking one of those knives?”

  “All of them,” I say. “We need to hunt, right?”

  She huffs out more air and rolls her eyes. “You’re some kind of survivalist now? Please.”

  “Yeah, well,” I say under my breath. “I’ve been in survival mode since I was seven. It’s nothing new for me. Now let’s go.”

  I’m only half right about everything I told Tori, but it’s enough. The trek from our island to the new island takes four hours. It’s not more than two miles away and it takes four hours. She balked at the edge of the beach. So I pointed to the storm, still stirring in the northern sky, and threatened her with a high tide if she didn’t get her South American ass in the water.

  She swam to the first sandbar, which was more than a couple feet submerged, so I was wrong about that. But she was still able to touch the bottom for about two hundred yards, so the part I was right about was the only thing that counted.

  It kept her going, and that’s all that matters.

  But once we got to the edge of that sandbar and she realized the moment of truth was upon her, she panicked. I’m talking full-on panic attack with hyperventilating and fearful eyes, and claims that she was going to die.

  It’s been a long time since I’ve seen her this way.

  I hate it.

  I’d rather see her with another man than see her so scared.

  We had to stand there on the edge of the ocean, the water swelling higher and higher as we waited for the episode to pass. I had to coach her constantly while we swam to the second island, which still had land above water, but the low tide was over by then and the ocean was rising fast. When I pointed back to our island she was shocked that so much of it was hidden under the waves.

  “See,” I said. “We would’ve died over there.”

  She got her fear under control after that and swam to the third island without comment, even though it was a struggle from start to finish. I was actually scared that time. She’s not a strong swimmer. Nothing like me. I know what to do with an angry sea.