Groaning, he lifted his head to look down at her. “Take it in your mouth, Virginia,” he instructed softly, gripping his cock himself and nudging it more forcefully against her lips.
She opened her mouth a little and slid the head in.
“Like that,” he murmured in approval.
He could feel a drop of pre-cum on the end as she seemed to get a little braver, taking a little more of his cock in her mouth before she abruptly pulled back, letting him pop out and bob against her face.
“I feel silly,” she said with a smile.
His breathing was heavy, his hands still in her hair and he could see the pearl of pre-cum at the end of his cock now, more seeping out just at her sophomoric play.
“You don’t look silly.”
If she’d really never given head, she was quite a talented beginner. She wasn’t deep-throating him, of course, like an old pro like Julie would do, but the sight of her ruby-red lips swirling around the head of his cock, and the feel of her long delicate fingers stroking him, excited him more than Julie’s practiced tending ever had. His grip on her hair got tighter as she moved her lips back to his cock and he dug his ass into the leather seat, holding off a climax. It wouldn’t do to come in her mouth…for the first time.
The limousine pulled to a halt. Smoothly, thank God. “We’re here, Aaron.”
Ralph’s voice over the intercom read Aaron’s resolve, or lack thereof, pretty accurately. He was giving them a warning before coming to open the door. Good thing, too.
Aaron took a deep breath, then reached over to push the button and answer. “Give us a minute.”
“God, that was awesome,” Virginia said with a grin. “Your penis was so hot against my tongue. No one told me how it would feel, the skin so velvety and smooth.”
He pulled Virginia up by the elbow to sit back next to him, and carefully zipped up his pants, willing himself to calm down.
Chattily expounding on his cock had never figured into his daydreams about this woman, no matter how wild. But apparently tonight, she was really letting go.
“And so big, too. Long and thick.” She looked at his now-covered crotch and reached out one hand, which he quickly grasped in his hand to forestall any further action on that front for the time being.
“I felt it against my hip that other time, but—”
“We’re ready now, Ralph,” Aaron called into the intercom hastily.
Two seconds later, Ralph opened the door on Virginia’s side and thank God she dropped the subject of his nice big cock. Although he’d be happy to take it up later.
Looking at the tall familiar building, she asked incredulously, “My office?”
Aaron laughed at her surprise. “I want to show you something.”
Some workaholics were streaming out of the building into the cool fall night and Virginia nodded at one or two of them who she must have recognized from her company. The security guard at his monolithic marble post blocking the entrance to the executive elevators smiled at Virginia. “Miss Beckett,” he said and then turned to Aaron. “Mr. Winston, welcome to the building. I have your keys right here. The management office said they weren’t sure when you’d be picking them up.”
Aaron thanked the guard and ushered Virginia toward the alcove of executive elevators, not the one she had taken almost every day during the last few years, but the one marked “P” for Penthouse. He inserted the key the guard had given him into the penthouse elevator, opened it, and they stepped in. “I bought the residential penthouse apartment in this building,” he explained to Virginia as they soared up seventy-five stories. Actually, the information about Beckett Family Delicacies that Aaron had originally looked at weeks ago had mentioned that the penthouse apartment in their headquarters building was for sale. It was only after his first encounter with the lovely—and at that time apparently unapproachable—Miss Beckett that Aaron became interested in purchasing the real estate. It seemed like a bargain and he felt a little proximity to Virginia couldn’t hurt. His agents closed the deal almost immediately after he had made the decision to purchase and his decorators were to have furnished the apartment yesterday, but he hadn’t been over to see it yet. Now seemed like the perfect opportunity to do so.
The elevator opened up into a two-story “great room” the size of most comfortable suburban houses. Floor-to-ceiling glass windows let in the black night, the lights of the city spread out below like a control panel to some monstrous computer. Aaron flicked on a light switch and several track lights overhead came on. Not bad. A deep blue oriental rug covered most of the expanse of the parquet floor, with deep blue sofas and love seat arranged tastefully in the center and a pristine white bar with mirrored back drop in the corner.
Now where the hell was the bedroom? He would fuck her first, just to take the edge off, and then continue his lesson in fellatio.
Turning with a keen sense of anticipation to Virginia, he found to his dismay that the beautiful blonde was heading straight toward the bar with a sexy, but distinctly swaying, gait. Rye’s words came back to haunt him and he studied Virginia with a frown as she moved behind the bar and reached below it, bringing out what appeared to be a bottle of champagne. She looked around distractedly, pulling open drawers and cabinets, and he moved to join her, smoothly removing the bottle from her grasp, glancing at the label in the process, and then placing it on the white tiled counter. “What are you looking for?” he asked her.
“A corkscrew.” Her adorable forehead wrinkled in concentration as she continued her search.
“That’s champagne,” he pointed out dryly, catching both of her hands in his, pulling her to him, and thereby effectively preventing her further foraging. “You don’t need a corkscrew. You just pop it open.”
She laughed. “You just pop it open,” she repeated, smiling at Aaron, putting her arms around his neck and shaking her head, as if wondering how she could have been so silly.
Aaron was starting to get a little worried. “You’re not really that drunk, are you, Virginia?”
“Yes, I believe I am,” she admitted and as if to prove the point leaned up on her tippy-toes and planted a kiss firmly on his mouth. He felt the electric shock of it right away, groaning as she pressed her body more firmly into his. He ran his hands down the length of her, giving what he discovered was a very plush high ass the proper amount of attention it deserved. Fondling those sweet, plump cheeks, he pushed her back against the bar and opened her mouth hungrily with his tongue. He could feel against his chest the hard points of her sweet tits through the silk of her gown and he moved one hand up to caress her, slipping under the loose neckline to brush a bare nipple with his thumb. She gasped and as if in reflex pushed his hand away, breaking away from his kiss to cry, “Don’t.”
He looked down at her, dazed, but before he could react she had flung her arms around his neck again and pulled his head down, kissing him with an abandonment that left him aching and hard and hungry for her. He cupped his hands around her ass again, his fingers reveling in the firm rounded feel of her, and lifted her up, grinding her against his cock, and then moved her gently back onto the high cushioned bar stool behind her. His lips trailed a burning path down her throat, his hands massaging the outsides of her thighs for a moment, still encased by the silk of her long gown, before he moved suddenly and purposefully to part and stand between them.
He pressed his cock, steely and needy, against the silk of her parted legs, his lips now in her hair, then at her ear, as he whispered hoarsely, “I want you…now.” But as he inched the silk of her long dress up and moved his lips down, now at her collarbone, now edging down toward that aching vicinity from which she had automatically pushed his hand away a moment ago, she muttered, “Slow down,” putting her hands on his shoulders to push him away. His head lifted and he fixed her with a heated gaze. The blue-gray irises of her eyes were almost completely obscured by the black pupils and her breathing was shallow. She was as turned on as he was. He knew she was. Realizing he had managed to get the
skirt of her dress as high as her thighs, he reached tentatively between them.
“All right. We’ll go slow if you like.” Although, shit, she didn’t seem to need it. When his fingertips reached her panties—a thong by the feel of it, he was pleased to note—she was as wet as she’d been before.
There was a serious disconnect between the lovely Miss Beckett’s words and her body. She was asking for it slow, but it sure felt as if she was primed and ready for a good hard fuck.
He dropped to his knees, pushing hers apart as her hands came to anchor in his hair, as if she was trying to keep her balance. He moved the thong aside.
“Nice,” he breathed against her. “I liked your ladylike white cotton panties, Virginia, but to tell you the truth, I always pictured you in a thong. Did you wear this for me?”
“No, I have to wear it for the dress. Otherwise, I’d have panty lines up my bottom. Showing through the dress, I mean.”
Holding the sweet pink lips of her cunt open to him with his thumbs, he just looked at her for a minute. Christ, she was perfect. Mere wisps of soft curls covered those plump wet lips and the distended button of her clit. “As slow as you want,” he assured her, blowing at first and then pressing his mouth to those sweet lips as her fingers clenched in his hair.
She tasted wonderful, fresh and clean and just a little tangy. He moved one of his thumbs to dip into that seeping well, rotating in circular motions as he tongued her clit.
“What are you doing?” Her voice sounded thick and a little confused above him, as if she really was asking, giving him pause. Jesus, if she was, she had really missed the class on oral sex, both ways, giving and getting.
He kissed the inside of one soft thigh. “I’m going down on you.” The fingers in his hair pulled him back to it and he began to eat her out in earnest. Pushing her thighs wider open to him, he concentrated on her clit, licking and nuzzling the engorged bud until her moaning moved him to thrust his tongue, hard, as far as he could into her pussy.
“My God. That is so…”
He glanced up to see that her eyes were closed, her head thrown back.
He wanted to feel his fingers up her again. Not to mention wanted to get her off pretty quickly in order to get to the main event.
His haste was unusual. He liked to eat pussy and hers was extremely sweet. But, fuck. He’d waited long enough for her.
His hands moved around to her ass to yank her farther toward him and to his surprise, the move unsettled her and she slipped off the stool, tumbling them both over.
He laughed, ending up on the bottom, the hard parquet floor beneath him, with one gloriously half-dressed beautiful woman spread all over him. He grasped her ass, completely bared by the thong which was no more than a strip of lace between the cheeks, and rubbed her wet crotch against the ridge of his erection. “Let’s find the bedroom. It might be safer.”
“Okay, but first some of the champagne.”
It took him a minute to register that. What the hell? He still could barely breathe from wanting her so much and she wanted to stop for a drink? He searched her face, its usually porcelain hue a rosy red, her lips moist and parted, her gray-blue eyes still wide and dark. Surprisingly, he saw an anxiousness in them, as well as something he couldn’t quite identify. She didn’t look drunk exactly, she looked… He couldn’t put his finger on it. What did it matter, anyway?
“All right, if you’d like.” He rolled up from the floor, pulling her upright with him, and picked up the champagne bottle from the bar. “But let’s drink it in the bedroom.”
The mirrored wall-to-wall closet in the bedroom reflected the blonde, white-clad Virginia and the dark-haired Aaron in tuxedo-black as a study in opposites, bathed in the soft golden overhead light. Aaron poured Virginia a glass of the chilled champagne. She downed it in one gulp, he noted uncomfortably, and then held the glass out for another, repeating the exercise after Aaron had reluctantly refilled it. When she attempted to pour herself a third glass, Aaron pulled her hand away from the bottle and said gently, “I think you’ve had enough.”
But she earnestly protested, without defensiveness or hostility, but just as if she were explaining the matter, “No, I don’t think I have,” and she poured and drank a third glass of champagne before she twirled over to the bed and fell back on it with a carefree giggle.
Aaron studied the sprawled white form, her long curls streaming over the edge of the bed. Jesus, had Virginia really had that much to drink? Personally, it’d take a fifth of scotch to have much of an effect on him, but then he’d had the sterling example of many an alcoholic foster father to show him how to hold his hard liquor. The genteel Miss Beckett was undoubtedly not so lucky.
“I think you could use a cup of coffee,” Aaron found himself, incredibly enough, suggesting.
Virginia stretched sensuously, the movement pulling the white silk of her dress tautly against her full tits, the effect agonizingly catalogued by a suddenly wary Aaron. This was ridiculous. Virginia Beckett was a smart, capable, grown woman. She headed her own company, for God’s sake. He didn’t need to patronizingly second-guess her. If she wanted to get roaring drunk before she got laid, who was he to object?
On the other hand, if this was her usual practice, the private detective’s report on her personal life that he had commissioned certainly would have turned something like that up. He was starting to get a bad feeling here.
“Virginia, honey, how about some coffee?”
She turned on her side on the bed to face him and wantonly held out her arms, beckoning him to her. “Coffee? Why, that would defeat the purpose.”
Oh, well, he had tried. He could still taste the sweet juice of her on his tongue and he had been restrained enough for one night. He shrugged out of his tuxedo jacket and began unbuttoning his shirt as he approached the bed. But when he came to stand before her, he just stared down at her, making no further move to join her. She was very beautiful. Improbably, trying to bolster his point that she was her own person and could make her own decisions—like getting drunk and then getting a nice hard fuck—he said, “I don’t think I’ve ever told you how much I admire your track record in your business.”
“Thanks. I’m sorry I can’t say the same about you,” she responded with a loose, charming smile. “I think you’re a cutthroat robber baron.”
Startled by her honesty, he laughed, leaning down to kiss her, intoxicated himself by the soft feel of her lips, the proof that she was so ready, so open to him, her legs slightly parted under the silk of her gown, her nipples visibly outlining her desire for him. But he didn’t kiss her. He pulled back. “How did you come to end up taking over BFD?”
“My parents died.”
He felt a faint stab of kinship. “So did mine.”
“I didn’t think you had any.”
“Ever?” He laughed. “That’s not possible even for me. But what I meant was how did it come to be you that was your father’s successor? Why not one of the others?”
“The others? You mean Allie and Nora? They had no interest in the business.”
“Their husbands then?”
She shook her head vociferously. “Especially not Brian!”
“Your brother maybe?”
“He was too young.”
“Not much younger than you, is he?”
“And I’m not a man, you mean.”
He sat next to her on the bed and ran his hand down her silk-clad hip and she arched, actually arched, into his touch, like some kind of satisfied cat. He almost lost his resolve to slow things down until she was a little more sober. “No, you’re most definitely and most delightfully not a man.”
She sat up, leaning back against the headboard. “I trained for it. For running the company, I mean. From the time I could talk. I’m sort of driven.”
“I hadn’t noticed.”
“Really?”
“No, not really. Of course I noticed. But driven why? What do you want out of all this?”
“Is thi
s some smarmy way to get corporate secrets out of me or something?”
“No, I’m saving that technique for later. I’m just warming up. So what do you want? More money?”
She guffawed. “Money!”
“Well, it comes out pretty handy down here, bub.”
“What?”
“Don’t you know your Frank Capra?”
“I do, but whatever is the cynical Aaron Winston doing quoting ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’?”
“Trying to keep from attacking you by keeping the conversation going,” he answered honestly.
“So attack me! What are we here for, anyway?”
“Oh, I’ll be attacking.”
“Promises…promises.” She twirled a lock of her hair. “I like what you did out there to me, Aaron,” she said, almost shyly, in a way that uncomfortably reminded him this may not be her usual pace.
“Going down on you?”
She wrinkled her nose and he laughed.
“You’re so…” Shaking her curls, she finished, “Earthy, I guess.”
He took a deep breath. Christ, he’d show her earthy. “Don’t tell me you’ve never done that before either?”
“No, I have. I just don’t think the guy, my boyfriend at the time I guess you’d call him, knew what he was doing. It didn’t feel like that.”
He was suddenly acutely aware of how ridiculous all this restraint on his part was. But still he hesitated and she went on, as if she hadn’t just complimented him on the technique of his tongue between her legs.
“Okay, so what do I want?” She took up the thread of the conversation, bouncing a little up and down on the bed. “I suppose I want to make my dad and grandpa proud.”
‘They’re dead.”
“Now that’s the Aaron Winston I know. I know they’re dead. But don’t you think our loved ones can see us?”
“No.”
“Well, I do. So there’s that. But I guess I want to prove I can do it, can be a success.”
“Haven’t you proven that already?”
“Look who’s talking!”
He leaned over to give her adorable nose a peck. “Touché. I guess people like us never get enough. I’m not sure that’s an endearing quality.”
Executive Perks Page 8