Unleashed #3

by Callie Harper

  “I don’t think you understand. I mean what I say,” I barked to the men on the phone. I took Kara’s other nipple in my fingers, pinching it and tugging it so that it matched the other, both nipples aroused and straining from my touch. Kara bit her lower lip and a soft sound came from her throat, needy. Pointing at her notes, I whispered, “Make sure they’re neat.”

  She squirmed in her chair and I wondered how wet she was getting, no panties, showing her tits to me. My sweet Kara, so pretty and so nasty.

  On the phone, I called the shots, the alpha male, the prick. I owned this deal. I knew I did. They knew it, too. The guy caved. He agreed to my terms, signing an e-document before we even got off the phone. And that was how you got things done.

  Shutting down the phone, I turned to Kara.

  “Read back the transcript. Now.”

  She shook slightly as she held the pad between her fingers. Good. I wanted her nervous, aroused, anticipating, feeling that adrenaline surge when you stood up in front of class and read your paper aloud. If she messed up, she’d get in big trouble. She began reading her notes back with a tremor in her voice.

  “Bring your chair closer,” I told her, gruff, pointing between my thighs. “Here.” She stood and slid her chair closer, right between my legs. “Now pull your skirt up before you sit. I want to see if you were a good girl and dressed like I told you.”

  Biting her lip, she gathered the sides of her neat, gray pencil skirt in her fists and then drew them up her silky thighs. She brought the fabric up right to the start of her pussy, then sat down with her legs slightly parted.

  Naked, I could see now, her sex bare and glistening and already ready for me. Just how I wanted her, my Kara.

  “Read,” I ordered. A few tendrils escaped her bun as she began reading back the notes she’d taken, her large breasts exposed and heaving. Her hands shook as she held the pad of paper.

  “That’s right. No mistakes,” I told her. Slowly, I reached over and traced my fingers up her thighs all the way up to her sex. As I first touched her, drawing two fingers along the outside of her wet pussy lips, her eyes closed and she tilted her head back. Her milky throat exposed, her mouth parted with a moan.

  I withdrew my fingers and pinched a nipple hard in reprimand. “I said read. No mistakes.”

  Her eyes opened again, her breathing becoming a pant as she resumed her secretarial position to read back the notes, keeping the pad down so I could see every inch of her thrust-out breasts. But she opened her legs a fraction more and I let her. She wanted to give me more access.

  As her voice began again, I brought my fingers back to touch and stroke her sex, so wet for me, so sweet and hot. I parted her folds and found her bud, stroking it, circling it, drawing out her honey. She kept reading and I began to finger-fuck her, forcing my two fingers up deep inside of her, then drawing them out slowly. She bit back a moan and kept reading, doing as she’d been told.

  “Good girl,” I praised her, plunging my fingers up inside her, deep. She whimpered in response and I could tell she was already getting close.

  Fingers out, I drew back. “Pour me some water.”

  Slowly catching her breath, she drew her legs closed, her eyes half-lidded.

  “Over there.” I looked over at the wet bar.

  She put the pad of paper down on my desk, stood and began to pull her skirt down again.

  “Stop.” I kept my gaze focused on her pussy lips, slick and glistening and still begging for my touch. “Keep the skirt up.”

  Perched on her stiletto heels, she walked over to the wet bar and pulled out a glass. Her ass peeked out in the back, underneath where she’d raised her skirt, the soft curves of her cheeks teasing me.

  “Fill the pitcher and bring it over here.” I wanted her closer to me again, by my side while she served me.

  The sight of her walking back in those heels, skirt forced up, shirt opened, breasts spilling over her bra sent me into overdrive. I gripped the arm of my chair, watching the way her hard nipples bounced as she walked. Soon I’d have them in my mouth.

  “Here,” I motioned to my desk. She placed the glass down. “Now pour me some water.” As she bent to serve me, her breasts overflowing, I brought my hands to her needy nipples and stroked. “Don’t spill,” I warned her as I gave them each a twist. She sucked in her breath and bit her lip, but she didn’t spill a drop.

  I brought my other hand to her still-exposed pussy. Dripping wet now, I slid my fingers into her sex and began to stroke. She brought her hand to the desk to steady herself and bucked into my touch, working to get more contact. She needed to come. I loved her like this, desperate and panting, eyes closed, lips parted, thinking of nothing but my hands on her and the building, pulsing pleasure coursing through her system. I owned her right now, but the truth was she owned me as well. I couldn’t even look away from her, bringing her so close, about to come.

  My phone rang. I took my fingers out and licked them while it got to the third ring, her eyes glazed and heavy as she drank in my intimacy.

  The seller had called back. He was having last-minute reservations. Stern and sure, I walked him through why this transaction was going to happen as arranged.

  Pointing down between my legs, I looked at Kara. She knelt right where I’d directed her. Unsure, she brought her hands to my inner thighs, then up to my zipper. Our gazes locked and I nodded yes, this was what I wanted.

  Eager, she unbuttoned my pants, unzipped my fly and brought her hands to my briefs, pulling them down. My prick sprang out, thick and swollen, veins pressing along the side, a pearl of pre-come at the tip of my crown. With a soft sound of satisfaction, she brought her pink tongue to it and swirled the tip, tasting me. Closing her eyes, she murmured, “Mmmm.”

  I wasn’t going to last long, I could tell. Fisting my hand in her hair, I brought her hot, wet mouth down on my long, steel cock. She took me in, deep, far down her throat, sucking and bobbing her head as I forced her down along my length. It felt so good, so tight and wet.

  The seller went for it, signed off this time for good. I ended the call.

  Both hands in her hair, I thrust my hips up into her face, rough, hard, demanding. This wasn’t a slow lesson in teaching her to suck cock the way I liked it, this was fucking her face, making her work for me. She made deep noises of pleasure and I could feel her mewls deep in her throat against my shaft.

  “I’m coming, Kara,” I growled, going down deep into her throat. She looked up and met my eyes, her plump pink lips wrapped around my huge, engorged cock, a look of immense pleasure on her beautiful face. That did it for me. My hot come shot out deep down her throat, spurting out in waves. She sucked it all down, her hands up to either side of my hips, holding me like she couldn’t get enough of my come. She stayed on my cock like that, sucking every last drop, until I collapsed back into the chair, spent. Then she sank back on her heels, still kneeling, licking her lips to get every last taste of me. Her bun had come loose from my fists and her hair now spun out around her like golden silk.

  “Kara.” It was all I could get out, a hoarse grunt. This girl killed me, so sweetly gorgeous and so nasty all at once. I’d come so hard, but I wasn’t done yet. Not with her.

  “Declan,” she purred between my legs, resting her contented face against my inner thigh. “Mmmm,” she sighed. I stroked her neck, traced her ear, caressed her shoulder. Her breasts still sprang out from her shirt, exposed. Bringing a hand down, I scooped her flesh in my palm. She sat up, kneeling between my legs again, giving me full access to both breasts.

  Looking down at her, I unbuttoned the remaining buttons of her shirt, then slipped it down off of her. As much as I liked the sight of her forced up and out of the bra, I wanted it off. I wanted nothing between us. I unclasped it and threw it to the ground. Now she kneeled before me, her huge tits out, her small waist narrowing in below them, the perfect playmate.

  Hands up, giving her breasts attention, I looked her in the eyes. “Kara, baby?” She gazed
up at me, contented and trusting. “Did that make you wet? Sucking me off while I was on my call?”

  “Yes,” she whimpered, her nipples responding under my fingers. Oh, she liked being dirty. She liked it, and she loved it when I forced her to admit it.

  “Take off your skirt,” I commanded. “Show me.”

  On shaky legs, she stood in front of me. Unzipping the pencil skirt, she slipped out of it, nothing between us now at all. Examining her as if looking for evidence, I brought my face right down to her lovely, slick pussy. With two fingers, I spread her folds wide open, leaving her clit swollen, dark pink and exposed to the cool air. “You’re very wet,” I observed and she whimpered again. “You’re so swollen.” Then I blew gently right on her drenched, throbbing clit. She gasped and arched her back, hand back out on the desk to steady herself.

  “And you still haven’t come yet, have you?” I asked, blowing again directly on her clit.

  “No!” she called out.

  With a wicked smile, I leaned down and asked her so close I knew she could feel my breath on her pussy, “Do you want to come?”

  “Yes!” She moaned, panting. “Yes.”

  I chuckled. “Not yet.” I touched my tongue light, brief, teasing to her sensitive bud and she cried out. “Not yet,” I continued, pulling back and sitting in my chair. “I want you to touch yourself for me. Show me what you do when you think about me. When you fantasize about my cock.”

  Desperate, Kara rested her bare ass against my desk. Past being hesitant or shy, she spread her legs wide and brought her fingers right down to her slit. I watched as she started to finger-fuck herself, bringing her fingers in and out of her slippery hole. All the while she circled her clit with her thumb, touching it just like I did, bringing herself closer and closer.

  “I’m going to fuck you on this desk,” I explained as I stood again, placing both hands on either side of her. “And I’m going to fuck you hard.”

  “Yes,” she cried out as I reached down, my shaft already erect and ready again.

  “Brace yourself,” I told her as I slid a hand underneath her ass and angled her toward the huge crown of my cock. She brought her hands to the desk. With one hard, long thrust I slid full into her. Screaming, she pushed into me, raising her hips and pressing wildly to take me deeper.

  Incoherent, I began thrusting into her. She wrapped her legs around my hips, her arms around my neck. I grabbed her ass in my two, large hands and rammed my cock deep into her again and again. I could hear the sound of our wet, slick fucking, my balls slapping against her. She took everything I gave, banging into her relentless, pounding her on the desk.

  I could feel her shuddering, her moans and screams in my ear, her pussy starting to squeeze around my prick.

  “Come for me now, Kara. Come for me,” I growled. She surrendered into a long, deep orgasm, the noises she made, pleasure sounds, release and gratification, animalistic and out of her control.

  “Kara!” My burning, coiled heat exploded into her, shooting deep inside of her. She took me in, her legs wrapped around me, my tool buried in her. I shuddered and nearly collapsed, resting my hands back on the desk, my face in the crook of her neck.

  Together, we panted, heavy and fast. Deep inside of her stretched, wet pussy, my cock gave one final pulse. She shuddered and moaned, instinctively pulling against me, turning her face to my shoulder and kissing me there.

  My heavy, big arms encircled her and I brought her closer, if that was even possible, cupping my hands around her ass and curving my mouth into the side of her neck. Nuzzling in, I smelled her, almost the way an animal would scent its mate. I’d never felt anything so right in all my life.

  CHAPTER 5

  Kara

  Enveloped in hot steam, I closed my eyes and let the water pour down over my body. Before this week, I thought I’d known what showering was. I now understood how wrong I’d been. Technically, a weak spray out of an old showerhead into a chipped tub next to a plastic curtain that had seen better days was a shower. But, oh my, the enclosed glass, the steam, the multiple showerheads plus side jets, the water pressure. Hot damn, it made a girl want to weep with joy.

  I’d miss the showers, that much was true. Come Sunday when this week was over and my coach turned back into a pumpkin, of all the luxuries I thought I’d miss the showers most of all. But I knew I’d get over it. I’d get back into my day-to-day, the memory of pampering like that of a good vacation—it made you smile, but you didn’t expect every day to be that good.

  But how was I going to do that with Declan? I didn’t have any tricks up my sleeve to help me get over him.

  He rocked my world. The man had me playing naughty secretary for him. And loving it. He made me feel so good it was like the pleasure took over entirely. My body said, “It’s OK, we’ll take it from here,” and my brain nodded and left the building.

  All the worries and anxieties that flooded me in other, more lucid moments suddenly disappeared when were together, just the two of us. Should I be doing this? Why did I like this? Nothing else mattered once he touched me. I felt it all so intensely, so intimately. Logically, I knew that had to be due to my inexperience. This couldn’t possibly mean as much to him. These were the kinds of games he played all the time with women far more skilled than me. I should be holding back, if not physically than at least emotionally, to protect and guard my sanity when this all ended. It was already Wednesday afternoon. We didn’t even have a full four more days together.

  But I couldn’t get enough of him. It felt like a live current shot through me, as if a switch had been flipped on inside and I couldn’t turn it off. As the water beat down from above, I could feel the sensitivity of my nipples, raw from his pinching and twisting. With the memory, they grew taut and needy once again, insatiable. I brought a finger down to my sex, slipping between my folds, still swollen and tender.

  I’d never felt more satisfied than when I’d knelt down between his legs and sucked him off while he’d done his business call. Closing my eyes, I remembered how it had felt to listen to him, so commanding and powerful, making demands and orders. He was so strong, so dominant in every fiber of his being. I loved taking him in my mouth, down my throat deep, sucking and licking and making him so hard. It gave me a thrill of pleasure to see his reaction, his mouth slightly parted, his eyes so dark and hot as he looked down at me sucking his cock. I nearly orgasmed myself when he shot come down my throat, my clit swollen and throbbing as he fisted my hair and forced me to take all of him. I didn’t want to miss a drop.

  Opening my eyes, I brought my palms to the tiles of the shower wall. I had to get a grip. I needed be more careful. All signs pointed to my falling for this man. Again. The last time around, my infatuation had known no bounds. It was like that from the moment I met him, like the volume on everything else got turned down real low. Colors elsewhere got less vivid. He, alone, stood out in my world as real.

  After he’d stomped all over my teenage heart and fed it to the pigs for breakfast, it had taken me forever to even force myself out on a date with someone else. It was one thing if you did the leaving; you got a whole new scene change and cast of characters with which to recreate yourself. But what about the one who was left behind? I still had to live every day with not only the memories, but also the reminders. I’d head into the barn and see him standing there, looking up with that slow, burning gaze. The small cabin where he’d slept that summer still stood on our property, haunting me in the moonlight.

  It would be so much harder this time around, having had this week with him. I should turn and leave while I still could. But just like before, Declan was the flame and I was a moth. I knew I’d technically entered into this agreement for the money, and at the time I’d let myself use that as an excuse. Now, I couldn’t even pretend. I was doing this because I couldn’t stand not to. I had to be with him, as much as I possibly could, for as long as I could manage.

  I couldn’t let my heart get broken again. Something told me it mi
ght already be too late.

  I stepped out of the shower into fluff and warmth, huge towels and heated floors. My body heaved a full sigh at the deliciousness. Tonight Declan was taking me to dinner and a Broadway show. It all felt unreal. Did it to him? I couldn’t get a clear read on it. Sometimes it felt like he was seeing New York City through the same lens as me, like we were both in on it together, checking out the big city carnival, but our hearts both belonged back under the wide Montana sky. Other times, I didn’t know. There was still so much I didn’t know about him, not just about his life now but about his childhood, how he’d grown up, his family.

  It was a good thing I was in a hotel, not his penthouse, or I might have been tempted to start snooping, rummaging through his drawers to see what I could find. That never ended well. Knowing my luck, I’d probably find a whole stack of photos of him with gorgeous, sophisticated, sexy women. He’d probably look far more satisfied and happy than he ever had with me.

  It didn’t seem fair that I was such an open book. There were no secrets to me. And, deep down, I craved opening up to him, making myself vulnerable in every way. With Declan, it wasn’t a matter of thought, it was instinct, simply how I responded to him. With other men, I had no problem being the ice princess. With Declan, all he had to do was stroke me with a piece of ice and I melted into a begging, pleading, quivering mess. God, I hoped he’d do that again.

  Everything about him pulled me to him like a magnet. I guessed it was true, the old cliché: opposites attract. Back in high school I’d been a light-hearted, carefree kid. Who had I gone for? The dark, tortured ranch hand with the checkered past. Never mind that everyone thought I should stay the cheerleader to Bruce’s quarterback.

  Funny thing about Bruce, now he was divorced, broke and back in town. He’d texted me a few times over the summer. It was pretty easy to ignore his messages.