by Alexis Angel
"Cum," I gasp, feeling Zane's cockhead slide hard against my g-spot. "Let's stick with cum."
"And where should I stick my cum, Piper? Here?"
I inhale sharply as Zane rims my asshole with his thumb. Oh God. That touch is intense enough that my whole body shudders and my cunt twitches. As I tighten around him, more and more of his cum gets pushed out of my pussy. It makes the most deliciously wet, gooey noises I've ever heard.
And as much as I think I'd like his cum in my ass, right now, what my pussy needs is a refill.
"Zane, sweetie," I say, my breath ragged. "That's not where babies come from."
"No? You're sure?"
"Pretty sure, yeah."
His thumb teases past the rim of my pucker.
And like, holy fuck.
Zane Tanner has some thick fucking thumbs.
"Maybe we'd better try it out first," he says, like he's genuinely mulling the idea over. "For accuracy’s sake."
He pushes his thumb a little deeper. My tight little hole can barely even accommodate that much. Just a thumb. I can't even imagine what it would feel like to have Zane's entire thickness filling up my ass. Like trying to fit a beer can inside an extra small turkey on Thanksgiving Day, probably.
Only, well, I actually kind of can imagine. Just because Zane's thumb is a tight fit doesn't mean that he doesn't feel fucking good there. In fact, it's kind of undeniably awesome. Apparently, tight fits are my kind of thing.
It would explain why I like his cock in my pussy so much too, come to think.
Zane finally relents, withdrawing his thumb to an entire series of moans from yours truly.
"Little slut," he laughs, grabbing my hips. "When I'm done breeding you, I'm taking that gorgeous ass of yours next."
"Careful," I warn him. "I might like it."
"You will. Of that, I have no doubt."
He's fucking me more carefully now. Maybe because he has the luxury of it. I like to imagine that normally, he's so fucking rough because he knows he's on the clock, so to speak.
Lingering around, making love and taking your time with a one-night stand sends the wrong idea, especially when it's coming from someone so rich, handsome and hung as Zane.
But right now, Zane’s on my clock, which means that time is on our side. My biological clock might be ticking, but we're far from zero hour yet. I've heard some couples take years to get pregnant—not that Zane and I are a couple by any means.
I'm just thinking, we could spend years doing this. Fucking. Making love. Baking our cake. Whatever.
That's what really gets me. I might actually fucking like that.
Zane is a great lover, sure. Even when he’s just banging one out just to prove that he can. But the comforts of his body extend beyond what he does with his dick. Or his mouth. Or his hands.
Honestly? Being around a guy as sexy as Zane is…it's just plain fucking fun. The looks I get from other women when we're together. The jealous glances I watch him get from other men. There aren't many people on earth who are this world-shatteringly good looking, and I'd be a fucking liar if I pretend like it doesn't affect me. In the best possible way.
I've always thought Zane was too handsome for his own good, but when it comes to the baby we're making together, there's no such thing as too good. This kid’s going to have amazing genes. My golden hair, his hazelnut eyes. Lucky little shit is going to be the most beautiful kid on the planet, excuse my bias.
"What are you thinking about, Pipes?" he says, moving inside me so deliciously that I can't help but moan low and deep.
"Global warming."
That earns me another smack on the ass, which I guess is fair. I had that one coming.
"Mmm. Maybe I don't want to tell you. Maybe it's a secret," I moan.
He slams his cock as deep inside me as it will go, and I yelp with a jolt of pleasure. As far as interrogation techniques go, it's surprising effective.
"Okay, okay!" I relent. "I was just thinking…how handsome you are."
"Aww," Zane coos, wrapping his arms around me. He's so fucking warm. Like an electric blanket. "Piper, I'm flattered. If I didn't know better, I'd say you have a crush."
"Oh my God," I groan. "Just shut up and fuck me stupid already."
It's insane. I can't even see Zane's face, but I fucking know his gorgeous lips are spreading into his cockiest grin.
"As my lady wishes," he says.
Then it begins.
The Fuckening.
It starts out a tried-and-true signature Zane Tanner bang sesh. He's fucking the shit out of me in the way that it sometimes feels like only he knows how. It's a full body feeling, being fucked that hard, that fast and that fucking well.
You gasp for air and your every cell gasps for air right along with you. You close your eyes and see supernovas. Universes collide, condense down into black holes and create a bang so big that universes are born again, all in the span of one fucking orgasm.
And then you're twitching around Zane's cock, blinking and whimpering in a fucking daze, wondering when the fuck did he turn me over? Holy shit, did I just pass out or something?
You'll never know. Because that's what sex with Zane Tanner is like. Too hot to handle, but damned if you won't fucking try to take it anyway.
"Stay with me, baby," Zane says, grinning like a madman as his body moves over mine. "There's more where that came from."
And the wildest fucking thing of all? He's not kidding. He's totally serious, and he's totally right.
Zane worships my body while he fucks me. It's so fucking easy to forget that we're not at the top of the tallest building in the world, or in a luxury hotel room in Venice, or in a Parisian mansion fucking on silk sheets.
He has me laid out on top of his desk, but the way he's kissing me and caressing my every curve, it feels like actual heaven.
"You're mine," he says, sinking his teeth into my shoulder. "You're fucking mine, Piper Stewart."
"I'm yours," I whisper back. Because when the fuck is that good, you don't fucking question it. You just nod your head and try not to (maybe) pass out again.
"Your cunt is mine," Zane continues, rocking inside me rhythmically in the same way I've seen Buddhist monks on the documentary channel pray. "Your breasts are mine."
He dips his head down to my nipples, which are hard and rose pink and desperately in need of attention. Zane doesn't skimp out on lavishing them with affection in the slightest. He sucks on them hard and strong, and without any reservations.
It's kind of incredible, having a man like Zane expending every ounce of his seemingly limitless focus on something so delicate. So comparatively small.
"These are going to get fucking huge soon," he says, popping one nipple out of his mouth and moving on to the next. "Huge and heavy with milk. Do you want that, Piper? If you're going to be a mom, your tits are going to have to get even bigger than they already are."
I moan, biting my lip in response.
On one hand, I can hardly imagine them being any bigger than this. On the other, I can almost feel it. The heaviness. The way my nipples will turn all dark and swollen. The urgent need for release that will come along with it.
Zane's teeth claim my nipple, brutal and cruel, and holy hell…I'm coming for him again. I can feel the jolt of gorgeous pain at my nipple crashing into the overwhelming warmth radiating from my cunt. It makes my whole body seize like I'm the victim in an exorcism movie.
"I knew you’d like that, my cum-hungry little baby momma."
Just to prove it, he does it again: sinks his teeth into my nipple. Makes my body go all rigor mortis around his cock, just because he can.
"You know exactly how good it's going to feel. You've got such nice, big tits, Piper. It's only natural that you want to put them to work."
“You’re the one who needs to be put to work,” I purr back as Zane kisses further down my body. “Less talk, more filling me up, baby.”
“Where do you want my cum, honey? Here?”
“Or…here?”
Zane pulls out of me, and when he pushes back into me again, he’s in a different hole.
Oh my God. He’s fucking my ass.
As far as getting me pregnant goes, anal is obviously not the answer.
His cock is slick with my honey and his cum. My ass it tight, and Zane's cock is gargantuan, but unbelievably, he slides right in. It feels so fucking good, the fact that it's supposed to be bad just makes it even better.
Hell no, this isn't how he's getting me pregnant. But Zane has already pumped me full of cum in one hole. I don't suppose letting him take his lust out on the other could hurt.
I can feel myself stretching for him. He's pounding away at my ass with the kind of vigor that tells me he wants to be all the way inside, and I do whatever I can to help make that happen. I lift my legs in the air and he grabs my ankles, tilting me back on the desk and improving his angle.
He's going to do it. He's actually going to fucking do it.
Get his cock all the way inside my ass.
Shove it in. Force it in. If he has to, he'll fucking make it fit.
This angle actually more benefits than I first realized. And like, not just because I'm getting my ass stuffed so full of man meat that I'm going to fucking cream again.
From this angle, I can see how fucking sexy Zane looks when he's fucking me. Hair all messy and hanging down over his brow. Delicious beads of sweat pearling at his temples, salty and trembling with every thrust, in ways that make me want to lick it off him.
I thought men must always look the same when they fuck, regardless of who they're fucking. And I've seen Zane fuck before. The picture of him with those supermodels in my office is one that I'll never be able to get out of my head. I'll admit, he looked damn sexy then too.
But this is different, and it's not just the change of angle. Sure, I'm laid out on Zane's desk with eleven (and in a few minutes, twelve) inches of cock in my ass. That's an angle that any woman would pay good money to have on a man like Zane.
It's more than that, though.
It's the way he's not just looking at my tits bouncing and jiggling as I moan for him. The way he's staring into my eyes, intense and unyielding, like he's watching for my reaction with every pump of his gorgeous hips as he shoves his fat dick deeper and deeper into my ass.
His hands curl around my hips like I'm a piece of meat, but his thumbs gently caress my hip bones as he does it.
And when his teeth fall on my neck again, he brings his lips along with them. Kissing me as he bites my collar bones. Making love to me with his mouth while he fucks my ass like a cheap whore's.
It's fucking—plain and simple, but it's also so much more.
I'm catching feelings for this man harder and faster than I ever imagined possible.
Leave it to me to start falling in love with a man while his cock is balls deep in my ass.
Zane's arms wrap around me and he's picking me up again. Carrying me around his desk, stumbling and grunting, until we slam against yet another wall. No—not a wall.
A window. I can feel the blinds crinkling beneath me, twisting and turning and giving whatever poor bastards are out on the factory floor right now one hell of a show.
Zane's office overlooks the production floor, I realize. If I peek out between the blinds, I can see all the mechanics and machinery working together in perfect harmony. Zane's equipment, my product.
Our working relationship is rock solid. Even if he is a bit of an ass. Without his company, Lacy Desirables wouldn't be doing half as well as it is today. And without my company, Tanner Manufacturing wouldn't be half as successful either.
We're a good fucking team. In the bedroom and out of it. It only becomes clearer to me as my ass rocks against his hips and my vision unfocuses, blurring out all the moving parts of the factory and refocusing my attention to the delicate system of nerves that Zane has been stimulating, restimulating and overstimulating for what feels like hours now.
Holy shit.
He's going to make me come.
Are anal orgasms a thing? Like, actually? Fuck if I know. What I do know is that I can feel Zane's slick, throbbing cockhead pushing deeper and deeper into my tight little ass with every fucking thrust. The resulting sensation—pleasure, pleasure, pleasure—leaves me clenching around him, clawing at his back and moaning like a true and proper slut.
My ass loves being fucked.
And my cunt loves that my ass loves it too.
And my clit? My clit is going fucking wild without so much as a touch. It's spasming, twitching, building towards something that I don't even think should be possible—
"Come with me," Zane growls, reaching a hand between my legs and pinching my hot, swollen clit hard.
And as easy as that, I am.
Sparks fly. Angels sing. I feel Zane's giant cock launch hot, sticky stream after hot, sticky stream of his perfect billionaire cum as deep in my ass as the laws of physics allow.
"Oh my God," I gasp against his shoulder, clinging to him for dear life.
"Is that what you're calling me now?" Zane chuckles, holding me tight.
He's a cocky bastard as long as his cock is still inside me. And the worst part is, I don't ever want him to pull out.
17
Piper
“I can’t believe you have such a good fucking eye for design,” I tease Zane as I lay on the couch in his living room, wearing nothing but an oversized shirt that says ‘NYU’ on it.
“Just don’t fucking tell anyone,” he winks at me and places a finger to his lips.
I remove his finger and kiss his juicy lips.
“It’ll be our little secret.”
Zane scoops me up and tickles me, making me squirm, wiggle and scream with delight.
“Stop it,” I order playfully and hit him with one of the navy-blue throw pillows that accents his grey couch to a perfect tee.
“Are you sure you’re in the right profession?” I ask, teasing him further about his ability to blend colors for a perfect room design.
“I’m pretty fucking sure,” he says and hugs me close to him. I breathe in his masculine scent and his spicy cologne that makes my pussy quiver.
My body reacts to the slightest thought of him. But it’s not just for the pleasure. We’re fucking like bunnies, trying to get me pregnant.
“I have a good feeling about this one,” I say and lay down on the couch with my legs propped over his lap.
Of course, I’m referring to the amazing sex session we just had. He’s so fucking hot and I can’t wait to be pregnant with his baby.
“Oh yeah?” He props an arm over his head and leans back into the couch, sagging his body with relaxation. “You really think so?”
He seems curious, eager, and scared all at once. I’m not used to seeing Zane with his walls exposed, but here he is, permitting me into his emotions piece by piece.
“Well I hope so,” I giggle and play with a fraying edge of the white throw blanket next to me on the couch.
“I hope so too,” he says softly.
I lean my head up. In my experience, men don’t get too serious about talks like this, and definitely not at this stage of the relationship.
Whoa, hello, hold the fuck train. I totally didn’t just refer to this as a relationship. That’s not what this is, right babe? No way. Yeah. Totally not. I just have to remember that. Fuck.
Okay out of my head and back to reality. Let’s forget that shit real quick.
“Do you really? Or are you just saying that because you want me to be happy?”
Zane scoffs but I see right through him. I pretend not to let on, though.
“Please, Zane Tanner bows down to no one.”
“Unless he’s going down on someone,” I joke and he roars with laughter.
He scratches the back of his head.
&
nbsp; “Well yes, in that situation I most definitely have no problem being on my knees.”
We exchange a private look again and I tremble between my legs.
Fuck!
He has the most astounding magnetic pull when it comes to getting me hot that I’ve ever experienced in my fucking life.
“I’m so glad you’re on board with all this,” I admit.
“Yeah,” he looks up at the ceiling. “Me too.”
Something is different about him, something tender and gentle. Maybe his need to be an asshole in public is just for show. I’m not sure yet, but I’m ready to dig a little deeper until I find out the truth. And it has nothing to do with that random-ass thought from a minute ago. Nope.
I just want to know the guy that’s knocking me up a little more.
He looks over at me and grins lazily.
“Do you want something to drink?”
“Only if it doesn’t have alcohol in it,” I retort.
“I can do that.” He sighs and gets up to stretch.
“Bring me back something good,” I call out to him as he waves from behind.
I glance around his living room. He has a flat screen TV on the wall and windows that go all the way across the room to the open kitchen area, overlooking downtown Manhattan.
His style is a perfect blend of modern and traditional. It’s fucking weird, and I don’t know how he pulls off such different styles, but for whatever reason he’s able to get the job done because it’s charming, cozy and refreshing all at once.
“Hey do you want to come to my house? I’ll pay you to be my interior designer,” I tease, yelling to him from the kitchen where I hear him mixing up a drink for me.
“Fuck off,” he says in a joking tone.
“What? Can’t a girl give you a compliment?” I cackle. “I’m fucking impressed.”
“Then just move right in,” he calls back.
“Um, I’m not sure we’re there yet,” I counter and laugh.
I notice that there’s a photo album underneath his coffee table. I lean over and scoop it up, thumbing through the first several pages.
He comes back into the room holding some sort of orange drink with a cherry in it. I take a sip, and there’s a flavor explosion of juicy sweetness happening in my mouth.