Sir

by Kelley R. Martin

  He never does that.

  “Any questions?”

  Only about a million.

  Instead of asking any of them, I shake my head. “No, sir.” My panties are instantly soaked as I walk out of his bedroom.

  Tomorrow can’t come soon enough.

  EIGHT

  Clayton

  Stella was right. I am an impatient man.

  It’s almost noon. Her appointment was three hours ago and I haven’t heard from her yet.

  Grabbing my phone off my desk, I text her.

  Where are you?

  Three little dots appear as she types, then this pops up:

  On my way to Laraby’s to pick up your lunch.

  Me: Stay there. I’ll meet you.

  I grab my jacket from the back of my chair and text her again.

  Tell them we want a private room.

  Her answer is immediate, and immediately gets me hard.

  Yes, sir :)

  ***

  Getting across town this time of day is an absolute nightmare. When I finally pull up outside the restaurant, I climb out of my car and toss the valet the keys, anxious to see Stella.

  It’s been three weeks since we started fucking and I’m already addicted. I find myself counting down the hours, minutes, seconds until it’s time to see her again.

  I’m seriously contemplating putting her at one of the empty desks in the office, just so I can be around her all day. But I know if I do that, we’ll just wind up fucking in my office five times a day.

  Not that I have a problem with that, but the other employees might.

  I pull open the glass door to Laraby’s, the hostess smiling as I approach her. “Mr. Castle,” she says, grabbing a menu. “Your room’s ready. Please, follow me.”

  She leads me through the restaurant, toward the back where the private dining rooms are located. I slip my hand in my pocket as we walk and pull out a folded up $50 bill. When she stops at a door and holds it open for me, I lean in, lowering my voice as I slip her the money.

  “No one’s to disturb us while this door is closed. If it’s open, you may come in.”

  She smiles and hands me the menu. “Of course. I’ll let the servers know.”

  “Thank you.”

  The door swings closed after she leaves, and I turn, about to walk over to the table, when Stella runs up and jumps into my arms. I stumble back in surprise as I catch her, my hands automatically going to her ass to support her weight as her legs wrap around my waist.

  She seals her lips over mine, absorbing the sound of my moan as she locks her arms around my neck. Her tongue slips into my mouth, teasing and flicking, until I’m greedily kissing her back.

  Stella pulls away a second later, her lips puffy and pink. She smiles wide, and it tightens something in my chest.

  “Sorry,” she says. “Was that unprofessional of me?”

  “Extremely.” And I loved every second of it.

  She bites her lip and leans close, until our mouths are almost touching. “Then I guess it’s really unprofessional to say that I want you to fuck me in here. That’s why you got us a private room, right?”

  “Am I that transparent?”

  “No, I think you’re just that horny.” She presses a quick kiss to my lips. “I am, too.”

  She slides down me, taking my hand as she leads us to the table.

  “How’d it go this morning?”

  “Good. I’m clean.”

  “I didn’t think you weren’t.” I pull out the chair next to hers. “Just trying to be responsible. Did Dr. Hendricks give you a copy of my results?”

  Biting her lip, she nods. “Do you want to see mine?” she asks, reaching for her purse on the table.

  I trust her. This was mostly so she would know that I’m clean.

  Grabbing her hand I spin her around, backing her into the table. “The only thing I want to see right now is my bare cock sinking into your pussy.”

  Her breathing catches as she places her hands on my lapels and pushes me down into my chair. I spread my legs as she stands between them, reaching for the knot on the side of her dress.

  She unties it, letting her dress fall open to reveal her naked body underneath.

  Fucking hell.

  My cock’s straining against my slacks as I reach up and place my hands on the soft skin of her hips, helping her straddle me. “You’re not sore, are you?”

  I was kind of rough with her last night.

  Stella unbuckles my belt and undoes my fly, stroking my cock once she frees it. “Would it stop you if I was?”

  “Of course,” I say, even though stopping is the last thing on my mind. I’m not even sure having the waiter come in would stop me at this point. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “But you came all the way down here for this.” She sits up, running the tip of my cock along her already-wet folds, lubing me. “Didn’t you? You left work and came all the way across town at lunchtime just to feel this,” she says, sinking down on my cock.

  I groan as her wet heat envelops me. “I did, yes.” My head falls back as I grip her hips, slowly thrusting into her.

  She feels so tight, so hot, so wet. If I loved the way her pussy hugged my cock before, then fucking her bareback is nothing short of a spiritual experience.

  Her hands cup my face as she grinds against me, her lips brushing mine. “You’re so impatient, Mr. Castle.”

  I flick my tongue out, teasing her, before sucking her plump bottom lip into my mouth. How does she taste so fucking good?

  My breath is harsh against her skin as I kiss down her neck. “You make me impatient, Miss Moretti. You make me desperate. I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you, the way I have to have you.” I cup her tit in my hand, leaning down to suck her little pink nipple into my mouth.

  Stella clenches around me, moaning, as I tease the pebbled skin with my tongue. “I’m yours, sir. All yours.”

  Damn fucking straight.

  Popping her nipple out of my mouth, I say, “Lean back. I want to watch.”

  She rests her elbows on the table behind her, giving me a phenomenal view of her body. I don’t know where to look first.

  Her perfect fucking tits, so round and full, her flat stomach and tiny waist as I guide her hips, or the glistening shaft of my cock as it disappears into her pussy, her stretched lips clinging to my dick like it’s a fucking Hoover vacuum.

  Licking my thumb, I bring it between us and rub her little clit. Stella’s walls tighten as her breathing accelerates. “Just like that,” she says, throwing her head back as she grinds against me at an agonizingly slow pace.

  She’s close, I can feel it.

  If there’s one thing I love more than fucking Stella, it’s making her come.

  I take her clit between my thumb and forefinger and gently milk it, massaging the sides like I’m jacking her off. Stella cries out, her pussy clamping down on me as her whole body goes rigid.

  I put a little more pressure on her clit and start thrusting harder, since her cunt’s clenched so hard it’s like it’s fighting me.

  Her cry cuts off abruptly as she bites her lip, grinding her pussy against me harder, faster. I grab her ass and stand, setting her on the edge of the table as I lean over and start fucking her with reckless abandon.

  The table shakes as my cock slams into her, and Stella wraps her arms around my neck as she holds on for dear life. Her pussy spasms and clenches again as she chants, “Oh God, oh God, oh God— Fuck!”

  She moans as she comes on my dick again, the wetness seeping out onto my balls as her walls hug me tight, like they’re afraid to let me go.

  It’s enough to push me over the edge. I feel my orgasm barreling toward me, drawing my balls up as it starts at the base of my cock and explodes upward like a volcano. I choke out a grunt that turns into a groan as hot, sticky ropes of cum coat the inside of her pussy.

  My hips jerk, losing momentum as I shudder. My heart’s beating so fast it echoes in my ears
as I slow my thrusts and eventually stop.

  Stella’s breathing just as fast as I am, her eyes searching mine as she clings to me. It makes my chest feel tight again as a foreign emotion floods me, practically choking me.

  It makes me lean down and kiss her.

  Deeply.

  Slowly.

  I feel it shift whatever we were doing before to something … more. Something I’m afraid might be permanent.

  When I pull out of her, I sit back in my chair, spent. Stella smiles when she looks at me, slouched, with my cock still rock hard and hanging out.

  She giggles. “Did I break you?”

  “I think you did,” I say, grabbing a linen napkin to wipe myself off.

  “Good.” She bites her lip, leaning back on her hands, when my cum starts to dribble out of her.

  “Let me see.” Scooting my chair forward, I lift her leg and set in on my shoulder, opening her up.

  Her pussy’s flushed a gorgeous shade of pink, her folds wet and shiny with our combined cum as thick, white globs of my seed ooze out of her tiny entrance. My cock throbs, ready for round two as I take my fingers and push it back inside her, then bring them out and smear the wetness around her clit.

  Stella trembles.

  “That’s fucking beautiful.”

  I set her leg down and kiss her stomach, wanting to fuck her again, but knowing I probably shouldn’t. I don’t want to hurt her or make it to where she needs time off to heal. Pushing my chair back, I stand and tuck myself into my pants.

  Stella climbs off the table and reaches into her purse, pulling out a pair of panties. She slips them on and closes her dress, retying the sash on the side.

  “I have to fly to San Francisco tonight,” I say, buckling my belt. “I want you to come with me.”

  “As your assistant? Or your sexretary?” She smirks.

  When we’re both decent again, I head over and open the door, propping it open with the mounted doorstopper on the bottom. “Sure.”

  “Well which one is it?”

  I sit next to Stella and grab the menu. “Let’s just say you’ll have your hands full during the trip. As well as your mouth, your pussy…”

  She closes her menu and looks at me like I’ve said something insane. “You want me to go all the way to San Francisco just to be your personal sex toy?”

  I shrug and look back at my menu. “You said you were here to assist me in any capacity. My cock needs your assistance.”

  “Am I getting paid for this trip?”

  “Of course,” I answer absently.

  “Wrong answer.”

  The waiter chooses that moment to come in, setting two waters on the table as he asks to take our drink orders. I order a Dewar’s on the rocks, while Stella says she’s fine with the water.

  When he’s gone, she sets her menu down.

  “Look, I’m okay with blurring the lines when I’m actually doing work for you, but not when the only work load you have for me is the load you want to release into my pussy. That makes me feel icky. Like you’re paying me for sex. Either I go because you genuinely need me as your assistant, or I go … because we’re dating.”

  Sighing, I set my menu down, too. “I wouldn’t say we’re dating.” All we’ve done is have sex.

  Lots and lots of mind-blowing sex.

  She gives me a pointed look. “So I’m allowed to fuck someone else?”

  I scowl. “Not if you want that someone else to live.”

  Stella crosses her arms. “Are you fucking anyone else?”

  “I told you I wasn’t,” I mutter, trying not to stare at the way her crossed arms are pushing up her tits.

  “And why aren’t you? You’re gorgeous and you have more money than God. You could literally have any woman on this earth.”

  The only woman I want is already sitting next to me, being a giant pain in my ass.

  Stella laughs. “Why can’t you just admit it?”

  Because I’m scared. I’m not ready to admit that what we have is real because I’m not ready for it to be real.

  I grit my teeth, feeling my jaw tense. “Why do you need me to? You’ve already made your point.”

  Stella’s teeth scrape her lip as she looks down. “Is this about Claire? Are you still in love with her?”

  “What?” I have half a second to wonder how she knows about Claire before I realize it’s a matter of public record. The internet never forgets anything, and Stella has apparently done her homework. “No. And no. I— Maybe,” I suddenly admit.

  “You are still in love with her,” Stella says, her face falling.

  “No,” I tell her emphatically, turning to face her head-on. “But maybe this is about her.”

  I huff out a breath, wishing we weren’t doing this right now. Talking about my feelings is bad enough, but talking about Claire is even worse. Not because I’m still in love with her, or anything. I just don’t want to talk about the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.

  I guess I’m weird like that.

  “Claire … wrecked me. I thought I’d never be happy again, and a relationship of any kind was the last thing I wanted. I certainly wasn’t looking for one. And then one day you showed up.” The side of my mouth hitches into a rueful smile. “You’re so beautiful and innocent, yet fearless and sassy. I can’t stop thinking about you, Stella. That month after you ran out on me, when I thought I’d never see you again? It was torture. And then when you did show up again, it’s as my new assistant. Also torture. I wanted to throw you on the counter and finish what we’d started, but you were off-limits then.”

  She bites her lip, trying to tamp down her grin. “That didn’t stop you.”

  I laugh. “No, it didn’t. Nothing seems to be able to stop me, even though I remind myself every day that I’m your boss and I’m way too old for you.”

  She shrugs. “Sixteen years isn’t that—”

  “You’re twenty-two?” I groan and hang my head. I knew she was young, but Jesus Christ.

  “And you’re thirty-eight. I don’t care,” she says, threading her fingers through mine. “We’re both consenting adults.”

  “Barely.”

  She drops my hand like a hot potato. “You want to stop fucking me?”

  “No.” I sound like a petulant child.

  “All right, then. Shut up.” She grabs her menu and starts looking it over, scowling the whole time.

  Feeling like an ass for pissing her off, I lean over and nuzzle my nose against her earlobe. She relaxes when I kiss her neck, silently accepting my unspoken apology.

  “Do I have to call you my girlfriend?”

  She shakes her head. “Just call me Stella.” Glancing over at me, she smiles shyly. “Or Miss Moretti, if you’re feeling naughty.”

  Fuck me sideways, I think I’m falling in love with this woman.

  NINE

  Stella

  It was dark when we landed in San Francisco. From what I saw of the twinkling lights in the city’s skyline, it’s a beautiful city.

  You know what else is beautiful? Clay’s ass in those jeans.

  I was pleasantly shocked to see him dressed down for once when he picked me up to head to the airport. I’m so used to his power suits—and birthday suit—but he’s rocking the hell out of those faded jeans and his v-neck tee.

  Mama likes.

  Eye-fucking my boss while he checks us into our hotel, my phone rings in my purse. Stepping away, I pull it out, surprised to see Brenda’s name on the caller ID.

  I swipe across the screen and hold the phone to my ear. “Hey, Brenda. What’s up?”

  “You tell me,” she says, sounding annoyed. “Your mom says you’re in San Francisco with Mr. Castle.”

  “Yeah. He, uh, needed an extra set of hands on this trip.”

  “You must’ve made quite the impression on him. Even got a promotion, from the sound of it, because I sure never got invited on his business trips. Then again, I’m not as young and beautiful as I used to be.”
/>   Shit. She knows I’m sleeping with him.

  My eyes squeeze shut as I try and figure out what to say. “Look, Brenda, it’s not as bad as it sounds—”

  “You’re fucking him, Stella! I didn’t give you the job so you could assist him in bed.”

  “I know!” I hiss as quietly as I can, glancing at Clay at the front desk. “I wasn’t the one who came on to him. I didn’t initiate squat. And if you think he’s my sugar daddy, then think again. It just happened, Brenda. Neither one of us saw it coming, and now… Now I think I may be falling for him.”

  She sighs on the other end. “I know you didn’t seduce him, Stella. I know you’d never do that. Just … be careful, okay? There’s no such thing as anonymity when you’re involved with Clayton Castle. Everyone wants a piece of him, and there are people who would literally throw you under the bus to get him.”

  I watch Clay hand our bags over to the bellboy before approaching me. “Okay. I, uh, gotta go. Talk to you later.” I hang up the phone, staring at it for a second, and then slip it back into my purse.

  “Everything okay?” he asks.

  “Brenda knows we’re sleeping together.”

  He frowns. “How?”

  I sigh before the words tumble out. “She’s my aunt, and apparently my mother said something about me coming to San Francisco with you, and … yeah. I guess she put two and two together.” I wince. “Are you mad?”

  Clay shrugs. “Half the employees in my office know I’m fucking you. What’s one more?” he says wryly.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Lifting my chin, he smiles down at me. “Don’t ever be sorry for fucking me, Miss Moretti.”

  My guilt and worry automatically melts away when he smiles at me like that. Stepping closer, I fist the front of his shirt and tilt my head back until our lips are almost touching. “I’m not sorry about that. I’m just sorry I couldn’t be quieter when you were making me come in your office.”

  I cut off his groan with a kiss as his hands rest on my hips, digging into my sides. I know from experience he likes to cup my ass when we kiss, but he’s probably refraining since we’re still in public and all.