by Cat Carmine
“Your wine, sir.” Saved — or maybe foiled — by the waiter. I catch my breath while he uncorks the bottle and pours a small bit into a glass for William to sample. William swirls the wine in the glass and then takes a small sip, which he swishes around in his mouth a little.
“Yes.”
“Very good, sir.” The waiter pours us both glasses. William orders for both of us — steak, grilled asparagus, oysters. I’m a little squicked out by the oysters but I don’t say anything about that.
After the waiter leaves we sip our wine. I don’t know much about wine but I have to hand it to William on this one — it’s absolutely delicious.
“The French, they really know what they’re doing,” William says, savoring a sip. “Their reds are just spectacular. Their champagnes too, obviously, but personally I think you can’t beat a good red.”
“Do you know I’ve never had real champagne?” I feel silly admitting it but William just shakes his head.
“We’ll obviously have to correct that. I think you’ll love it.”
We take another sip of our drinks. I try to taste as William must, but most of the subtle notes are lost on me. Chocolate? Peppercorns? Oak? Random non-food item supposed to make me sound cultured? I’d obviously be hopeless as a wine taster.
William puts his glass down. “What about now?” he asks, picking up our earlier conversation where we left off. “Are you close with your parents now?”
“My mom and I are pretty close, I guess. My dad died a couple of years after I left home.”
“I’m sorry.”
I wave it off. “It’s okay. I mean, it’s not, but I’ve had a lot of time to process. I think that’s probably why I got myself back on the straight and narrow. My dad died thinking I was a failure, and I didn’t want him to be right.”
Before I know what’s happening, William has reached across the table and taken my hand in his. It’s a gesture that stuns me, maybe more than anything else that’s happened this week. A shiver goes up my spine as he rubs my thumb with his.
“I’m sure he didn’t think you were a failure.”
Tears well up in my eyes and threaten to spill over. Something about his unexpected kindness is like a punch to the gut.
“Thank you for saying that.” I take a sip of wine, anxious to change the subject. “I told you mine, now you tell me yours. I obviously hit a hot button when I asked you if Godrich and Associates was your father’s company. What are your parents like?”
He snorts. “Exactly what you’d expect. Cold. Aloof. Impossible to please. Frequently drunk and more frequently fighting.”
“They’re still married?”
“Unfortunately.”
“Why do you say that?”
“They just should have gotten divorced years ago. My mother’s fucked every tennis instructor or bus boy at the country club and my father just … doesn’t care. He throws himself into work and ignores the whole situation. They just fight about money and the house and about who’s the bigger asshole.”
“I’m sorry. That sounds terrible.”
He shrugs. “It is what it is. If anything, it’s made me crystal clear about what I absolutely don’t want in my life.”
“And what’s that?”
“A loveless marriage. Kids to fuck up.”
“What about a happy marriage, and kids who don’t get fucked up?”
He snorts. “Is there such a thing?”
“I like to think so.”
“Well, then, Claire, you are very naive.”
“Maybe.”
We sip our wine and before we can change the topic, the waiter arrives with our oysters. Oh, here we go.
William sees me wrinkling my nose.
“Not a fan?”
“They’re just so slimy.”
“That’s what’s so good about them,” he says. Then he grins. “Just like eating pussy.”
I nearly spit out my wine. “Well, I can’t say that I’ve ever done that.”
“Then you don’t know what you’re missing,” he says, and winks. I think about our encounter earlier today, and my cheeks go pink.
William nudges the plate towards me and I reluctantly take one. He slurps his down quickly, never breaking eye contact with me.
“Just like I remember it. Your turn.”
I hold the shell up to my lips and touch the slimy little blob tentatively with my tongue. It’s briny and slick.
“Bottoms up.” William is grinning.
I take a deep breath and tip the oyster into my mouth. It’s salty and sticks in my throat as it goes down. I shake my head and take a sip of my wine.
“Is that really what it tastes like?”
“What?”
I lower my voice. “Pussy.”
William laughs, the first real genuine laugh I’ve ever heard from him.
“Why don’t you find out for yourself?”
“How?”
“Move over.”
I slide over in the booth and William crosses the table and slides in beside me. He drops his hand beneath the table and I feel him sliding my knees apart. The reality of what he’s doing hits me.
“William…”
“You asked the question, Claire.”
“I take it back.” I try to laugh, but William’s hand is sliding all the way up my thigh. I’m still not wearing any panties so when his hand reaches my heat, he has more than easy access. He slips his finger inside of me. My body shudders at the sudden intrusion. He swirls his finger around a few times, and flicks it in a way that drives me crazy. I take a sip of wine to try to calm myself.
When he pulls his hand away I can see that it’s slick with my juices.
“Open your mouth.”
Oh God.
But I do as he says. He puts his finger in my mouth and I lick it tentatively. It doesn’t taste as bad as I thought — not as briny as the oyster. A little sweeter and muskier. Almost as perfumey as cantaloup.
I lick his finger up and down and then, because I can see in his eyes that this is turning him on, I close my lips around his finger and suck. I move my mouth up and down his finger, as if I was sucking him off.
“Oh fuck,” he mutters under his breath.
“Mmmm,” is all I say.
William clears his throat. “Well, that settles it. Since you’re such a dirty girl, you will no longer be allowed to wear panties at the office. Ever. Do I make myself clear?”
I smile around his finger.
“I knew I liked you, Claire,” William smiles. “From that very first day I met you. Getting yourself off in the bathroom at Prescott & Bailey. I thought, ‘Who is this girl and how can I have her?’”
Shame flushes through me. My worst fear confirmed — William had heard me that day. I move my mouth away from his hand and wipe my mouth with a napkin. “Oh God,” I mumble.
William laughs. “What?”
“That’s so humiliating.”
“Humiliating? Claire, I loved that about you. A woman who likes getting off and can take matters into her own hand is a very sexy thing indeed.”
How do I tell him I’m not the woman he thinks I am? Up until I met William, I had never done a single kinky thing in my life. I’d had sex many times before but only with boyfriends and only in bedrooms. I’d never even had a one-night-stand before.
And yet…there is something about William that drives me to do things I never would have imagined before. Even though I wasn’t that girl before, maybe I’m becoming her now.
When our food comes, William doesn’t move back to his side of the table. We dig into our meals and end up talking about all kinds of things — books and movies and music we like, the pets we had as children. I don’t know why but I’m surprised that underneath William’s domineering exterior lies a normal guy.
Well, mostly normal. Can’t forget about the very kinky parts.
It’s dark out when we step out of the restaurant. The night air has turned chilly and there are lots of young pe
ople out on the streets, stumbling around and calling out to each other.
William pushes me up against the wall of the restaurant and kisses me. Not just any kiss. Rough, hungry. Haunted.
His tongue ravages me, taking me over. His hand winds itself through my hair, twisting and pulling my head back so hard that it yanks at my scalp. I think of him telling me earlier that I was going to have to beg him to fuck me. I feel like I can see the truth in that now. My body yearns for him.
Luckily the feeling seems to be mutual.
“You’re coming home with me,” he says, and there is no question in his voice.
No question at all.
12
Claire
William’s condo is exactly what I would have expected, except ten times more of that. A sprawling penthouse filled with slick black leather furniture, lots of gleaming chrome, and a view of the skyline that takes your breath away.
I don’t have any time to admire it though because William has me shoved up against the wall of the entryway. His mouth is on me like an oxygen mask, like he wants to own every part of me, even my breath, my breathing.
His passion is inexhaustible and contagious. I find myself kissing him back just as feverishly, wanting to devour and be devoured. Every doubt I’ve had about this relationship has dissipated, because in that moment, I want nothing more than to get well and truly fucked by my boss.
His hands are skimming all over my body, sending sparks up in their wake and lighting my skin on fire. I lift one leg and wrap it around him, pulling him closer to me, feeling his erection pressing up against me through his pants. I reach my hand down between us so I can stroke him, and he groans into my mouth.
“I have to have you,” he says gruffly. “Now. Later I’ll take my time, but right now I need this.”
I nod my permission and he reaches down and undoes his pants, unleashing a thick hard cock. He shifts my leg and then leans into me.
I gasp as I feel him at my entrance. My body is aching for him, filled with a kind of wanton need that absolutely terrifies me. I look at William and see that same need mirrored across his face. His eyes are partially closed and his breathing is quick and shallow. The question is written on his face.
“Yes,” I tell him. “Yes.”
We both gasp as he slams into me. It’s like my words unleashed a freight train. He pounds into me again and again, slamming my back up against the wall. He hitches my leg up so he can get even deeper, and I cry out at the sheer unbridled pleasure of having him, finally, inside me.
William leans in and kisses my neck as he fucks me. Every time he thrusts he smashes up against my clit, sending shockwaves coursing through my body. Soon my whole body is tensing and I cling to him. I squeeze my body around him, wrapping my knee around his hips to pull him closer to me, tightening my pussy around his dick so that he’ll feel me more. He groans again and his thrusts get harder, more punishing.
My core tightens, and then it’s happening, the orgasm ripping through me like a tsunami, pulling me down into the deep dark ocean, drowning me. My arms and legs turn to jelly and I cling to him, trying to stay afloat.
I feel him tighten, tense. His cock jerks inside me and with one last thrust, he groans as he explodes inside of me.
We stay there like that for a minute, both trying to remember how to breathe, clearing the water from our lungs. When he slowly slides out of me, it feels like loss. I feel empty without his warmth.
William must see something in my face because he smiles wickedly.
“Just give me a couple of minutes,” he says devilishly. “There’s much — much — more where that came from.”
We make a pitstop in the kitchen, where William opens a bottle of red wine and pours us each glasses. Then he takes my hand and leads me into the bedroom.
The first thing I notice is the enormous king size bed. A flawless white duvet, and crisp white sheets that look like they have a thread count of a billion or so.
“Women must love this,” I say.
“My cleaning lady says it’s a pain in the ass.” He shrugs. “She’s about the only woman who’s been in here lately.”
“I find that hard to believe.” I say it jokingly, but of course I’m trying to dig.
“Believe what you want,” he says. “Not that many women make it this far.”
“Wow, I must be pretty special then.” I say it flippantly but inside a tiny thrill is running through me.
William looks at me seriously. “You are very special, Claire.”
My cheeks flush. He is looking at me with such intensity that I almost want to look away. Instead I meet his gaze.
“Show me, then,” I say.
“Show you what?”
“Show me how special I am.” I can’t believe my own brazenness.
He grins. “With pleasure.”
He takes a step closer and winds his hand in my hair, tilting my head back to expose my neck. His lips trail a line from my ear to my collarbone, then back up the other side. He tugs my hair harder, drawing my head back as he twists his hand.
“You are so fucking beautiful.”
My entire body tingles. Desire radiates across my skin, emanating from my core and working its way across my limbs, to the tips of my fingers, to the ends of my toes. I can’t believe I’m here, doing this, with William.
He walks me backwards to the bed. With one fluid motion, he peels my dress off and lays me down on his bed. His mouth continues to move across my body, covering my shoulders, my breasts, my stomach. Then he moves lower, starting at my ankles and working his way up across my calves, my knees, my thighs. I squirm under his delicate touch but he holds me in place.
His mouth slowly works its way higher up my leg, until he’s kissing the place where thigh becomes sex. I hold my breath, waiting, wanting, to feel him on me.
When his tongue finally touches my clit, I tremble. He grins up at me. I’m putty in his hands and he knows it. He flicks his tongue over the nub, alternating hard and soft, drawing small circles that paint fire across my slick skin.
His tongue trails lower, tracing long lazy lines across my slit, and then circles my entrance. I arch my back as he plunges his tongue inside of me. The man knows what to do with his mouth, I’ll give him that.
My legs start to shake as he keeps working me, fucking me with his tongue. Then he brings his hand up, slipping one finger inside of me, and then a second, thrusting them in and out of me while I quiver under his touch. I want to feel him inside me so badly.
When he has brought me nearly to the brink, he slowly withdraws his fingers and stands up. He stands between my legs as he peels off his tie. Then his shirt. Then his belt. Then his pants. Finally, he slips out of his briefs. He’s standing there naked in front of me, and I am almost literally gagging with how badly I want him. His body is perfection — lean muscle, smooth skin, rock hard dick pointing eagerly towards me.
He climbs onto the bed and brings his mouth to mine again. His tongue in my mouth tastes like pussy, but it doesn’t even bother me. All it tells me is how badly he wants me, how hungry for me he is, and that’s more of a turn on than anything else.
He positions himself over me, waiting between my legs. When I nod at him, he groans and sinks into me. He does it slowly so we both feel every inch. When he’s in up to the hilt, with every last bit of space between us gone, he pauses.
I nod again, moving my hips in a slow sensual rhythm. William matches me, sliding in and out, slowly. Tantalizingly slowly. I squeeze myself around him, wanting to feel every last piece of him, wanting to savor every last second of this.
He looks down into my eyes. The usual mask he wears seems to crack as we come together, our bodies joined. William moves his hand up to my face, brushing my hair away from my eyes. The look on his face is one that’s more tender, more caring, than anything I would have ever thought him capable of.
I meet his eyes, touch my hand to his cheek. He groans and sinks deeper into me, his hips pistoning
above me.
“Oh fuck!”
“Come for me, Claire.”
I let my body ride the wave that’s coming. I couldn’t resist it even if I tried. I let go and then I’m coming, hard, my body practically convulsing under his, shudders racking me. I clench around him and that sets him off.
He thrusts once, twice, three times, deep inside me, and then I feel him jerk and still. He collapses on top of me, spent. We both lie there for a second. Our breathing syncs up as we try to recover.
I feel almost shy now. I can’t quite look him in the eye. I’m not sure I’ve ever had a sexual experience that intense before, and I don’t really know what to do with myself now.
William, on the other hand, is still William. He brushes my hair from my damp forehead. “You are going to destroy me,” he says, and though his words are hard, his tone is tender.
“Is that such a bad thing?” I ask, finally meeting his gaze.
“I haven’t decided yet.”
13
William
I wake up in the morning with a beautiful woman wrapped in my arms.
I honestly can’t remember the last time that happened.
Actually, I do remember. Lila.
I push her name and face out of my mind and look down at Claire. Claire isn’t Lila, I remind myself.
I let her sleep as I creep silently out of the bedroom. I brush my teeth and then go into the kitchen and turn on the coffee machine. I call down to the front desk and tell them to bring up my order.
Ramon, from downstairs, arrives just a couple of minutes later, holding a small brown bag. I thank him and give him a tip.
The smell of coffee is starting to waft through the penthouse, and I hear Claire stirring in the other room. I go in to check on her, still holding the bag.
“Good morning.” She smiles lazily up at me and it’s all I can do to not just climb back into that bed with her and fuck her senseless. She looks damn sexy lying there, tangled up in my sheets.
“What’s in the bag?”