He paused his movements as he released my hair from his grasp.
“That what you want?” he asked, his voice raspy with need.
“Yes.”
His hands gripped my hips and pulled me closer to him. His hips drew back and he thrust into me, shoving me up onto the bed. I clawed at the sheets as his cock throbbed against my walls, stretching me to new widths as I whimpered.
Over and over and over again, he pounded into my pussy. He shoved me so far up the bed with his lust that I had to brace myself against the headboard. My body was shaking and my tits were jumping. The bed was banging against the wall and my clit was pulsing. He dropped his body on top of mine as his muscles shook, then I felt his hand snake between my folds as his fingertips found my clit.
“Cum with me,” he said.
I bucked back into him as we writhed against each other. My body shook as he pressed into my clit, circling it around and flicking it expertly. His lips nibbled on my ear lobe as his hot breath pulsed against my neck. I was washed away by the scent of him. The musky scent bleeding from his pores and dripping onto my naked skin. Never in my life had I felt so wanted. So desperately needed by a man like Preston Walker.
My jaw unhinged in silent pleasure as his tongue traced the shell of my ear.
“That’s it,” he said. “I can feel you. Don’t hold back. Let it go.”
My toes curled and my eyes screwed shut. My back arched and my pussy pulled him deeper. He thrusted into my depths one last time, his body stilling against mine as I tilted my head off to the side.
I captured his lips in a kiss, my mouth swallowing his grunts as our bodies reached their end.
I could feel him spilling into my body. I could feel his hot cum spurting against my walls. His cock pulsed deep inside of me, filling me to the brim and spilling out onto my thighs. I collapsed to the bed, aching with precious desire as he collapsed on top of me. The both of us were heaving for air, his sweat dripping onto my skin as he kissed and nipped at my shoulders.
He fell off to the side and took me with him. His cock was still buried deep within me as the two of us fell asleep. His strong, beautiful arms blanketed me all night, keeping me warm while they made me feel safe. For the first time in years, I slept all through the night. Not once did I wake up to the pang of being alone in my own bed as the sounds of the city wafted around my head.
But when the sun came streaming through Preston’s apartment windows, I took a good look around me. The high-vaulted ceilings. The California king-sized bed. The satin sheets that were stained with the evidence of our debauchery and the crusted cum that cracked off my thighs.
How many other women had seen this view? How many other women had breathed their lecherous memories into these walls?
I slid from his arms and climbed off the bed. Preston was fast asleep, his perfect body bare for me to take in. My eyes raked up his legs, taking in his sinewy muscle and his perfectly-tailored hips. I memorized his arms, how they rippled with strength and boasted of warmth. I memorized his neck, long and ever-tainted with perfection.
He was a glorious sight, and the next woman he brought home would feel the same.
I left to gather my clothes and find my heels. I slipped them on as I tried to fix my hair. Even though I wasn’t a virgin, this was a first for me. Leaving a man behind in his apartment to go home in the same clothes I was in last night.
But I couldn’t stay here and play house. I couldn’t wait to see if he would offer me breakfast. I didn’t want to look into his eyes when he realized who it was he actually brought home last night.
So I gathered my things, slid out of his apartment, and went home without a word.
Nine
Preston
I woke up and stretched to find that beautiful woman. I wanted to roll over and thrust my cock into her again. I wanted to wake her up with my name dripping from her lips. I could still smell her in the air as I turned over to find her.
But when I went to smile at her, I was met with an empty bed.
“Delilah?”
I slid out of bed and went to go find her. Maybe she was in the bathroom or something. I peeked my head in and walked around my penthouse apartment. But when I didn’t see her clothes anywhere, I ran my hand through my hair.
That woman left me in the middle of the night.
No one left Preston Walker. That shit didn’t happen. I was always courteous to the women I allowed to stay over. She was a good one, too. I didn’t let just anyone stay over with me. Only the ones I wanted to taste again in the morning. I’d cook them breakfast, maybe take them one last time on the kitchen counter, then I’d send them off with a gift. A necklace or a bracelet I had in my stash of gifts I kept in my closet.
It was a nice little peace offering so there were no hard feelings.
I spent the entire weekend trying to figure out why the fuck she left. That night between us had been magical. I hadn’t cum that hard inside a woman’s pussy in years. And I knew she had a good time because she was practically clawing at my body. I still had fucking scratch marks on my chest from where she dug herself in. Holy fuck, I got hard every time I thought about it.
There was no way she left because she had a shitty time.
I tried calling her over the weekend, but she didn’t pick up her phone. I expected her to at least drop by my office on Monday, but she was a no-show. Her light was on underneath her door, but she wasn’t emerging. Not when I requested her to come see me, not when I knocked on her door, and not after I ordered her lunch.
What the hell was wrong with this woman?
I didn’t get it. I knew we had a good time and I knew I made her enjoy herself. There wasn’t a woman I had ever laid with that wasn’t begging me for seconds eventually. Usually, I was the one that had to cut ties. I was the one that had to tell them to stop calling or some shit like that. But now, I was the one tracking her down.
And there could only be one reason for that.
I needed to shower her with something different. Most women were okay with a diamond bracelet or a fancy dinner, but maybe Delilah wasn’t that kind of girl. She was weird. Artsy. Feisty, but in a different way. I ordered lunches and flowers and gave presents to all the other girls and they showered me with their attention.
So if Delilah wasn’t doing that yet, then I hadn’t found the right gift for her.
I walked over to my file cabinet and searched through the ‘K’’s. I pulled her file and started reading through it, trying to see if anything would jump out at me. Her resume was pretty basic. Her psychological profile was normal. There was nothing in her folder that jumped out at me as something I could use to really swing her attention back towards me.
Until my eyes grazed over her vacation days.
Holy hell, this woman had only taken two fucking vacations in all the years she had worked here.
No wonder Delilah had been so desperate for my cock. She wasn’t even allowing herself paid vacation time to recuperate. She was just letting her four weeks fall to the wayside every damn year. That was the kind of shit that could get this company in trouble. If we were to be audited and it showed that employees of my company weren’t taking vacation, then it could blow back on me.
So now, I knew how to fix two issues with one gesture.
I sat down at my computer and started my research. I looked for retreats I could send this woman on. A nice three-week spa retreat or a getaway in the mountains somewhere. The woman wore fucking cardigans and long ass skirts. There was no way in hell she owned a bikini. But as I was scrolling through retreats I could buy her, there was one that caught my eye.
A three-week art retreat in the Pocono Mountains.
I bought it without batting an eye and sent the confirmation slip to Delilah. I rented her a luxury vehicle she could drive so she wouldn’t have to put any miles on her car, then I sent her that confirmation as well.
And just as I suspected, I watched as she emerged from her office.
Sh
e padded down the hallway, her body making its way towards my office. I watched the doorknob turn on my door as it flew open. There she was, in all of her curvy glory, standing there in front of me with her eyes widened.
“Miss Kent,” I said.
“An art retreat?” she asked.
“What about it?”
“I can’t go on an art retreat,” she said.
“You can, and you will. It’s what you enjoy doing, and your file tells me you haven’t taken a vacation in almost four years. That could get this company in trouble.”
“What?” she asked.
“Because of you, I now have to go through every employee file to make sure everyone is taking at least part of their paid vacation. If we get audited and even one of our employees isn’t taking vacation every year, it makes me look bad. I could get fined for that, Miss Kent. You will go on the art retreat, you will enjoy yourself, and I’ll file your paid vacation paperwork with H.R.”
“You can’t just…buy me a retreat,” she said.
“I just did. Your rental car information is sitting in your email as well. You’re going to need something other than a compact car to get you into the mountains.”
“What makes you think I drive a compact car?” she asked.
“Your office is in a broom closet. You drive a compact car,” I said.
I watched a plethora of emotions scroll across her face. Shock. Astonishment. Curiosity. Wonder. She was getting used to the idea of the art retreat as a smile crossed her cheeks, and I knew I had her.
Hook, line, and sinker.
“Thank you, Mr. Walker,” she said.
“Enjoy yourself. You’ve earned it,” I said.
She nodded, then turned on her heels and started for her office.
“Go ahead and leave early today as well,” I said. “Once you’re finished with your numbers, go pack.”
“Yes, Mr. Walker,” she said.
The day passed on in usual fashion. Meetings Delilah accompanied me to and phone calls from the investors on new projects. I set up meetings with people to keep revamping the company and checked in on old projects that needed to be updated. I cleared Delilah’s schedule for three weeks and hand-delivered her paperwork to Human Resources.
I wanted to make sure someone would get it and process it before she left the office today.
Once I got back to my desk, however, I saw I had an email. One lonely little email from an address that made me grin.
Delilah has sent me something just before she left.
Mr. Walker, the email began.
Holy fuck, I loved it when she called me that.
I wanted you to know how thankful I am for the retreat you are sending me on. I’m not sure why you’re doing it, but thank you. I could have never afforded it on my own.
Good. At least she was becoming more appreciative of my efforts.
I wanted you to know that the time we spent together was special to me. I’ve never felt that way with a man before. It was a first, and I want to thank you for it. It has dawned on me that you are no longer the enemy. I know you’re here to help this company, but I also know there’s goodness in you. Behind that playboy persona and that bad boy attitude, there’s a genuine man. Thank you for showing him to me.
I didn’t know what the hell she was talking about, but I would take it.
Anyway. See you in three weeks when I get back. Remind the investors that their final quarterly investments are due by the end of the month. Just slide their paperwork underneath my door and I’ll take care of it when I get back.
D. Kent
That woman was a workaholic, but I didn’t care. Now that I had her relaxing on a retreat that would remind her of me for three weeks, it was time to start putting together a plan. I wanted her back in my bed once she was back from that retreat, and I wanted no more arguments. That was the first time she had ever experienced a man wanting her like that? Well, I was going to be the first and second. And third. And fourth. I was going to keep her at my place all fucking weekend and do with her as I pleased. I would cook for her, shower her with gifts, then devour her pussy over and over again until I was satisfied with the look on her face.
Once she came back from this retreat, I would be irresistible to her.
That woman didn’t have a damn thing to worry about when it came to her job. Because she was going nowhere.
Ten
Delilah
I took off before the morning sun, driving through the darkness of the dawn. The air was crisp and the night was clear, and my check in time at the cabin for the retreat was at ten o’clock in the morning. The luxury SUV that Preston had rented for me was more than I could have ever imagined. Heated seats. Bluetooth connectivity. Leather upholstery with hand-stitched patterns. It was a decadent car for a decadent trip I was going to be taking for three weeks in the most beautiful part of Pennsylvania. And as I drove through the Poconos, I was rendered speechless.
The scenery was beautiful. The mountains seemed to emerge from the horizon, encompassing the whole of me as I drove deeper into its caverns. The roads began to wind as the sun began to rise, casting an orange glow on the view in front of me. It was inspirational, this place. There were going to be so many things I wanted to paint and sketch so I could design them later on my laptop.
But when I got to the retreat, it was more than I could have ever bargained for.
When someone says the word ‘retreat’, it usually means a group setting will eventually be required. I expected some cabins, maybe some random people I would be meeting up with, maybe a little bit of rest and relaxation beside a lake. What I did not expect was a two-bedroom, two-bathroom, breathtaking log cabin all to myself. What I did not expect was a fully-stocked kitchen, a hot tub on my own private deck, and the most gorgeous view of the mountains in front of me. The high-vaulted ceilings and the roaring fireplace were welcoming as I dropped my bags in the middle of the living room.
But the surprises just kept on coming.
There was a lofted portion to the cabin I could access via a beautiful wooden staircase. I walked upstairs and found a beautiful pair of french double doors that opened up onto yet another balcony. But the loft area was filled with art products. There was an easel and different sized canvases. There were paints of all colors, glosses, and types. There were charcoal pencils and pens. Regular pencils and erasers. Artist pads I could carry around the resort with me and colored pencils to use as I wanted.
Anything I could have thought of that I would’ve needed to express myself was already stocked in the cabin’s loft.
I grabbed the double doors and threw them open, allowing the cool mountain air to grace my cheeks. I stepped onto the small balcony and sat down in the most comfortable patio chair I had ever felt. Tears sprang to my eyes as I watched the sun steadily rise over the mountain tops. They were covered with browns and greens, and at the very top of some of the highest peaks there were slight patches of white.
“Thank you, Preston,” I said with a whisper. “Thank you so much.”
I didn't have a bathing suit to use for the hot tub, but the ground-level patio was private. There were high privacy fences that blocked a neighbor from seeing me, even though there was no one occupying the cabins. There was no one in front of me and there was no one behind me. It was the off-season, so there was a good chance no one would be occupying the cabins on either side of me at least for the next few days.
So I went inside, closed the doors, shed my clothes, and went in search of a towel.
The night I experienced with Preston filled me with a renewed sense of vigor. I felt more confident than I had ever felt in my life, so I decided to make my first risky decision. I found a luxurious, fluffy bath towel in the fully-stocked bathroom that was easily the size of my apartment living room back home. I wrapped the towel around me and took a deep breath, then I made my way for the porch and out towards the hot tub. I looked for the dial on the outside of the deck that would control the timer for the
bubbles, and as the hot tub roared to life my towel dropped to the concrete.
I stood there, clad in nothing but my skin as I took in the site in front of me. Rolling green hills that led all the way to the base of some of the most majestic mountains this country had to offer. I descended into the hot tub, allowing the water to caress the nakedness of my skin. I sank down into the rolling bubbles and relaxed against the side, slipping into a cavern that was contoured to my body.
It was as if this entire cabin was styled just for me.
My mind was swirling with all of the things I would paint first. All of the beauty I had experienced just driving into these mountains. I closed my eyes and sank down to my neck in the hot water as the cool mountain air rushed over my face. I sighed, allowing all of the stress from work fade into the background as I enjoyed the first day of my three-week vacation.
When my skin was red from the water and I was sweating down my neck, I grabbed the towel waiting for me. I emerged from the water a completely different person, ready to take on the artistic world for the next three weeks. I wrapped the towel around me and made my way back into the house, opening the refrigerator to see what there was to drink. I smiled when I saw the flavored water. The same flavored water I had handed to Preston when we had lunch that day in his office.
I was right. He had tailored this entire cabin to my liking.
No matter what people thought about him, and no matter what I had first thought about him, he was not the man he appeared to be. This cabin and all it held was not the action of an airheaded playboy. This cabin, stocked with the best supplies any artist could want in their arsenal, was not done by the hands of a man who only wanted to screw around with women. This was done by the heart of a man who cared about everything he threw himself into. It didn't matter what persona he has painted for the media and it didn't matter what he had done to any other company before ours.
He could convince everyone else that he was a playboy, but he would never be able to convince me.
I grabbed an apple off the kitchen island and headed up the steps. I opened my bottle of water and drank it down, revitalizing my body and replenishing my energy stores. With the towel wrapped around me and my body drip-drying in the heat of the fire that was keeping this cabin comfortable, I sat down on a stool in front of the prepared easel. I started grabbing colors and squeezing them into a tray, my eyes dancing along the blank canvas. I could see the picture already jumping out at me. The orange glow of the mountains I was able to behold as I was driving here for this retreat.
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