Cunningham moved her hands, allowing her to rest on him, and Jonathan reached for her, angling her face into his lap. His cock was long and thick, with a bulbous head she loved to tease over her lips, and he smelled faintly of sex.
“Take me all the way, baby.” Jonathan fucked her mouth steadily, hungrily, then passed her to Cunningham.
She tried to catch her breath, but Cunningham nudged between her lips. “Open,” he growled as he forced himself deep into her throat, holding her there, reminding her that he was her boss, her dominant, demanding boss, and he expected her to perform to his standards whenever asked.
Her throat convulsed around the length of him, but she yielded meekly. Her lovers had taught her well, and her body would accommodate their desires. At last he eased up, then handed her to Nolan.
“I’d rather be fucking your ass, you know,” Nolan said gently as he tucked loose hair behind her ear.
It was a warning that he’d fuck her mouth roughly. Of the three, he could be the most violent in the bedroom. Sure, Cunningham was more likely to spank her until her ass was covered in welts, but Nolan would be the one to fuck her raw without a moment’s hesitation.
He breached her lips with his cock and held her head there, not forcing her down onto him like the others had. Elle’s breath hitched in her chest; she knew what was coming.
She closed her eyes and mentally tried to brace herself, but there was no possible preparation for what followed. He tightened his grip on her, then rammed into her mouth and throat, fast, unforgiving. It was far more difficult to breathe; at least when Cunningham’s girth filled her airway, it was more or less constant. This frantic, frenzied jackhammering was pure torture, and as such, absolute bliss for the submissive in her.
At last he slowed and stopped, then let her go. Only then did she realize that the chauffeur had brought the car to a halt, and that they were in front of her apartment building.
“Turn around and pull up your dress,” Nolan ordered.
She raised her eyes to Cunningham’s, hoping he would countermand Nolan’s order, but no such relief was coming… in fact, his expression suggested he didn’t appreciate her looking to him for a reprieve.
Stifling a little sigh, she wiped her mouth and turned. It took some doing to get the dress worked up over her hips while she was bent over in the cramped car, but she managed. She waited silently for the next order, feeling stupid as she hovered there with only her thin, soaked panties covering her pussy.
Jonathan pulled her to him. He gathered up her panties and ripped them between his strong hands, then lowered her onto his lap. His cock skimmed along her clit, making her quiver.
He pulled her back, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close. His breath sent tingles along her skin that collected between her legs and intensified. With his length pressed firmly along her folds, she could feel his cock pulsing.
“We’ve decided that because of the importance of tonight, we’re each going to pump you full of come,” he said. His deep voice vibrated where her back touched his chest. “Filling you seems an appropriate way to end the evening. Understood?”
“Yes, Jonathan.”
The men eased their stiff erections into their pants. “We’ll be back in an hour or so,” Cunningham told the driver, who quickly got out and opened the door.
Nolan slid out, then Cunningham, who shrugged out of his tuxedo jacket. Aware of her naked lower body, Elle hesitated to move toward the door, but Cunningham extended his hand to her, and she crawled toward him, her knees sliding over the sleek, luxurious seats.
Cunningham deftly wrapped the jacket around her shoulders. He was so much larger than she was that it covered her ass and then some. She wrapped it as tightly around her as she could and stepped into his waiting embrace.
“My place is a mess,” Elle confessed. And it probably smelled like the pile of orange peels she’d left on the counter a few days earlier.
“We don’t care,” Jonathan said. He leaned in, his eyes full of mischief. “We’re hard and you’re wet. The sky could fall and we wouldn’t notice.”
“Speak for yourself,” Nolan said. “Not all of us are ruled by our dicks.”
Cunningham propelled her toward the door while Nolan dug her keys out of the rhinestone-covered purse. As they walked through the halls, she noticed the scuffed walls, the stains spotting the carpet, and she was painfully aware of how mediocre her home was compared to the places her boyfriends owned.
When the door to the apartment was finally closed behind them, Jonathan tore the jacket from her body in a brusque movement that made her gasp and reflexively throw her hands up to cover her slick and naked lower half.
He was always horny, Jonathan, but usually he was too sophisticated to tear away her clothing. Now he looked brutally ravenous. She shifted, feeling exposed, but no matter how she tried to hide herself, she felt his eyes devouring her.
Cunningham pulled her to the bedroom, the others close on their heels. He lowered her on the rumpled bed and stepped back while he took out his cock. He glanced around her bedroom with a frown. “I can’t fathom why you’d prefer to sleep here tonight,” he said, his confusion genuine. “Especially tonight.”
Jonathan stepped forward, fisting his cock, and lowered his weight over her. “We’re going to pump you full of our come and leave you like this, on your back. If there’s any reason you want to get out of bed before the morning, do it now.”
With a little shudder, she rolled from under him and hurried to the bathroom, kicking off her stilettos. In the mirror, her hair was disheveled, but her makeup had survived the evening intact. Even her lipstick was only slightly smudged. She made a mental note to get the makeup artist’s phone number and ask the name of the brand.
She stepped out of the dress and hung it on a hanger she used to drip-dry her stockings. She also pulled off her bra, not wanting it to meet the same fate as her panties.
It took a few minutes to carefully comb the tangles out of her hair, then she flossed and brushed her teeth. When she felt ready, she went back into the bedroom. Cunningham was flipping through a scrapbook that she never left sitting out.
“Where did you get that?” she demanded.
“Under your mattress,” he said easily, matter-of-factly. And why wouldn’t he? He was Cunningham, and he helped himself to whatever he wanted. “You have ambitions of creating fine art?” he asked, handing her the book.
She closed it firmly and put it into a drawer, hoping that out of sight would truly mean out of mind. “Well, yeah.” She shrugged. It wasn’t an uncommon aspiration for people who’d attended art school.
“Then you should make it a priority,” Cunningham said.
“Right now?” she asked, arms crossed.
He stared at her, unamused, his fathomless dark eyes daring her to continue down that path. She looked away.
One of the men had ordered and smoothed the crumpled white sheets, making her bed look much more appealing than when she’d left.
“Get into bed.” Jonathan stripped away his shirt and stood there wearing only pants, from which his long, thick and slightly curved cock protruded. He helped her along with a firm grip on her arm. His cock, she noticed, was so swollen it had become tinged purple. He had to be dying for release and barely able to control himself. No wonder he’d gotten all pushy.
His eyes locked with hers, he generously wet his fingers and rubbed them over her pussy. It wasn’t necessary because her body was already primed for him, but she liked that he did it; it made her feel claimed by him. He pressed smoothly into her, raising her hands over her head and holding her wrists there. A dark flush tinged his cheeks as he rocked into her, loosening her body for him.
Cunningham approached around the side of her bed. His cock was so large that it looked fake, especially sticking out of his clothing like that. But she knew it was real, would fill her, choke her, dump mouthfuls of hot come into her.
“You’re going to stay on your back all ni
ght,” Cunningham said, his voice husky and irresistible.
“Yes, sir,” she whispered. She understood; they wanted to fill her up and know that she was a vessel for them. It was the opposite of how things had started, with Cunningham always pulling out of her pussy and forcing her to drink his come. That had been kinky sex. This was kinky plus so much more.
Cunningham turned her chin toward him. “We may break your sad little bed,” he warned. “You’re going to be fucked hard. Do you know why?”
She shook her head wordlessly.
“Because we want to.”
She trembled as he tapped his cock on her lips, then moaned as he slid the taut head over her tongue.
Jonathan released her wrists and pinched her nipples, riding into her body with steady thrusts that sent fire through her veins. “Are you ready for me, baby?”
All she could do was make a strangled noise around Cunningham’s battering cock.
Jonathan lightly flicked her engorged clit, working her into a spasming frenzy. She squeezed around him, her pussy and throat both tightening, pulling groans from the men inside her. Jonathan pushed deep and unloaded himself into her, gripping her breasts and holding her immobile and submissive while he wrung every last bit of pleasure from them both.
It wasn’t until well after the last of her body-shaking spasms subsided that he slowly and gently extracted himself from her quivering flesh. He sat back on his knees and tilted his head as he studied her pussy. “Good,” he said. “She’s holding me inside of her so far. Who’s next?”
“Go ahead, Nolan,” Cunningham said.
Nolan took Jonathan’s place on the bed. He was still dressed, the white shirt messy and untucked. He’d pulled his pants down enough that his erection was exposed. He moved forward, and his slightly cool balls dragged along her inner thigh.
Cunningham turned her head back toward him and began fucking her mouth again. “I’m going to come,” he said. “You’re going to swallow me, then keep sucking until I’m hard again.”
She shuddered and yielded to him—not that she had any say in the matter. Her dominant lover knew what he wanted, and if he told her ahead of time what to expect, it was a kindness on his part.
Nolan raised her ankles high in the air, forcing her hips back. He gripped her soft buttocks, separating them, and pressed balls-deep into her ass. Surprised, she sucked in air and went rigid for a moment, but that didn’t slow him down in the least.
He pumped with brutal strokes, pulling back so far that only the very tip held her open, then shoving in deep again. Cunningham twisted her nipple. There were so many places where her body hurt that her awareness was scattered. And Cunningham had gone larger and heavier in her mouth.
“That’s a good girl,” he murmured. “Drink up.” His hand on the back of her head was both a caress and a prison as he gushed into her throat. He fed her, the delicious, musky smell of him crowding her consciousness. She continued to serve him just as he’d asked. His softening shaft had become sensitive; she felt it in the way he shook a little as she nursed, but he didn’t relent.
His eyes met hers, and she concentrated on her technique, trying her hardest to get him excited. It wasn’t easy to perform well, what with Nolan slamming into her ass, shaking the entire bed.
“Jonathan,” Nolan rasped. “Can you—”
“Here.”
Elle didn’t know what they were talking about, but when Nolan pulled out of her ass, Jonathan handed him a little packet of wipes that she kept in a bottom drawer. Apparently they’d really made themselves at home while she was in the bathroom.
Nolan’s cock prodded into her pussy, and Jonathan flicked her clit, then rubbed around it in frustratingly loose circles. She surged up toward him, squeezing Nolan in the process, who wrapped his hands around her thighs and held her still while he fucked her.
“Oh god!” he screamed out. Jonathan got down to business, rubbing her clit the way she needed, and her body clamped around Nolan’s shaft, milking out every drop of come.
Like Jonathan, Nolan stayed inside of her until the last of her orgasmic tremors passed. Then he carefully removed himself.
“Room for one more, I hope,” he said, his voice hoarse. “You’ll have to be careful, Cunningham.”
But Cunningham was not yet fully hard again. She wrapped her lips tighter around the thick base of his shaft and sucked, putting her whole head and neck into the movement, swiveling on him.
Nolan slid off the bed and Elle’s body was left unfilled, her legs open wide, the backs of her thighs sticky with perspiration. She felt used and spent, but she dug deep and found the energy to suck Cunningham properly, using lots of wet suction.
“We’re not in a hurry,” Cunningham said reassuringly. “You’ll get me there.” Despite his comforting words, it was clear to her that he was taking a measure of pleasure in her failure. Maybe if he would stop resisting her, she could succeed…
“Perhaps I should use my hand,” he said.
She gave him a dirty look and cupped his heavy balls in her palm. He wanted her to work hard for his come. He was an extremely demanding boss, shoving her headfirst into challenges that she only barely managed to meet. In the bedroom, he was no different. One week he might be trying to wear her down with marathon sex sessions, then the next week he’d do something like this, using his mind games to twist her desire to please him, leaving her unbalanced and vulnerable.
But he hadn’t counted on one fact: she knew him. She knew exactly how to suck him to get him hard, and despite his efforts to frustrate her attentions, his large, sleeping cock twitched in her mouth. She felt him growing slowly, filling out. She closed her eyes and whimpered as his cock grew down her throat, and felt the moment he gave in.
He expanded fully in her mouth, deliciously hard.
“Good girl,” he said as he began to pull away. He lightly slapped her cheek, the tip of him still inside her mouth. “What do you say?”
“Thank you, sir,” she forced out, her tongue sliding over the slippery, swollen head.
He pulled out and came around the bed, shedding clothes as he walked. Elle’s pulse spiked at the sight of his perfect body. He knelt between her legs, rising over her like some kind of mythical monster. He was enormous, broad across his shoulders. She felt tiny and vulnerable when he loomed like this.
With a steadying hand around his erection, he nudged into her slick warmth. Her body yielded to him, opening, submitting. These men fucked her just how she needed. Her nipples hardened as her back arched high off the bed. Cunningham came down on one elbow, his rocklike chest brushing her excited nipples, and anchored his perceptive gaze in hers. “What do you say?”
“Thank you, sir,” she gasped. Slowly, she relaxed onto the bed, unable to hold herself in that position.
Jonathan sucked her left nipple into his mouth, and she moaned. When Nolan took the other one, need undulated through her.
Cunningham rocked between her legs, pinning her to the sheets. His hips rotated in a smooth, tight loop, and all along his body, muscles flexed with the exertion of keeping his heavy frame from crushing her.
“Bite her,” he said. “Hurt her.”
Elle cried out as agony pierced her nipples. When all three of her lovers were focused on one goal, she always ended up suffering. She cried out again, her plaintive wail ending in a breathless inhalation as they finally released her.
Cunningham scooped his palms under her buttocks, raised her up and slid himself deeper. “When you’re pumped full, then I’ll be happy.”
She whimpered. “Yes, sir. But… why?”
“Because you are ours,” Jonathan growled. He brushed his mouth close to hers and forced his tongue between her lips.
Cunningham began to pound into her with loud, wet smacks. Her whole body shivered, and she arched again, tilting her head back, presenting her neck to him. He was so dominant that he called out primal submissive behaviors, the existence of which she’d never suspected.
&nbs
p; “You’re not to shower tonight,” Cunningham said. “I want you flat on your back, cradling our come inside of you. Now come. Squeeze me. I want to feel your pussy begging my cock.”
Her breath caught as her body obeyed him. Jonathan’s tongue delved into her mouth. The orgasm swept her onto another plane of existence, and then she fell into a twisting, clenching abyss of dark pleasure, hurtling toward the solidity of these men who provided mental and physical shelter. She was their pet, their toy. She was also a smart, capable person. Yet when her bosses told her to open her legs so they could pump her full of hot come, she obeyed.
“I won’t move,” she gasped as Jonathan ended his kiss. “I’ll be good, sir.”
“That’s right.” Cunningham’s growl was almost a roar. His grip under her ass turned vise-like, pulling at her, forcing her wider for him. Jonathan moved aside just as Cunningham slammed himself deep, his shoulders flexing back as his thrusting slowed. Several long shudders gripped his body, and he dug his fingers into her flanks.
He gently settled her on the bed, his warm palm tracing soothing paths along her thighs while the puffs of his breath cooled her damp skin.
Finally, he withdrew. Her knees folded together, already missing him. Her limbs were exhausted from the struggle of staying stretched wide to accommodate the large men.
Cunningham positioned her, legs bent, soles of her feet flat on the bed. “Don’t move.”
“Ok,” she whispered. She wondered if he expected her to really stay like that all night. It was a lot to ask.
The men were getting dressed, fixing their rumpled tuxedoes, running large hands through sweat-dampened hair. She sighed as she watched.
Cunningham pulled a sheet out and covered her, his movements careful and tender.
Two hours later, still on her back, she couldn’t stop her mind from replaying all the things that had happened since she’d applied for the job. She now had enough money in the bank that if she wanted to take a year off, she could. She had the nicest clothes and jewelry that money could buy. She had an expensive car. And she loved her job.
Executive Package Page 3