As I sucked on her tits, I moved my hands up and down her body, feeling her up, her moans telling me she liked it. Within no time, I had her thrusting her pussy at me. I knew it wasn’t conscious, but it was what I was waiting for, and damn if I wasn’t going to take advantage of it. Still, I would keep my promise, which meant my poor, tortured cock had to stay in my pants. Though, it didn’t mean I couldn’t stick my tongue where my cock wanted to go.
I quickly moved down her body and planted my face in her pussy, making her gasp my name. I didn’t know whether it was a good or bad gasp, so I started softly nibbling on her outer lips, then licked up her slit.
She gasped louder. “What are you doing?!”
“Tasting you.” I licked up her slit again, flicking her clit with my tongue. Her body stiffened, her groan giving me approval. I continued sucking, licking, and nibbling her pussy, causing her to pant.
She began muttering incoherently, only a few words making sense: “Tom, no, yes, oh ... What are you doing? Oh God, yeees.”
Even though there was a no in there, there were more yeses, so I continued playing with her pussy. After a minute, she started thrusting it into my face. I took a hold of her hips and buried my face even more into it. She squirmed under me, her confused yet highly aroused state torturing my cock again. I wanted to pull it out and thrust it deep inside of her, pumping her so hard, but again, I couldn’t. I’d promised, plus the last time I’d taken a virgin I had to go slow, and right now I didn’t think I had that control.
Trying to do the impossible—not to start wanking off, I tightened my grip on her hips and went to town on eating that beautiful pussy. Fuck, she tasted so damn good, sweet, not manky like some of the other chicks I’d been with.
I inserted my finger inside her, crooking it and putting pressure on her G-spot, something Mrs. Andrews had taught me how to do. I continued lavishing Kelly’s clit with my tongue and mouth. She was now moaning uncontrollably, her hips pushing up against me, making my cock weep. Her legs started to tremble, telling me she was getting close, so I pressed on her G-spot more. She grabbed my head and rammed my nose into her pussy, shouting out as she came. I remained still, not wanting to ruin it for her, although she was smothering me, but fuck me if I was moving, because this was the best thing ever.
She shuddered, then went still, letting my head go. I pulled back and licked up her pussy, Kelly tasting so fine after coming. Again, I ached to stick my dick in there, but it remained in my pants, no matter how much it hurt. Instead of pulling it out, I climbed up the bed and pulled Kelly to me, resting her head against my chest. I ran a hand down her hair, wondering whether she’d even considered wanking me off, but I doubted it. She was probably still caught up with just having come, because with the way she’d shouted, I was sure I had given her a blinding orgasm. I smiled at the thought, rather proud of myself.
She wrapped an arm around me and sighed, sounding content. I held onto her, trying to ignore my cock, preferring to stay in the moment. After a few minutes her breathing evened out, making me realise she’d fallen asleep. I considered going outside and wanking off on the other side of the cabin, because my balls were going to hurt like buggery tomorrow. She let out a sigh in her sleep, causing me to shelve the idea. I didn’t want to let her go, because she was mine and I was hers, and it was going to stay that way.
15
KELLY
PRESENT
Someone knocked on my front door, making me swear. I was in freaking bed¸ typing up chapter twelve of my newest book. Yeah, it was almost lunch time, but I really didn’t want to get changed out of my dressing gown since it was my writing day.
“Probably another damn door-to-door salesman,” I muttered to myself.
I put the computer on the bed and headed for the door as the impatient pain in my rear knocked again. There was no way I was changing for them. I’d just poke my head around the door and tell them, ‘Not interested,’ as usual.
I kicked Remy’s shorts out of the way, the little nuisance having left them on the sitting room floor. I unlocked the front door and pulled it open a fraction, only enough to look out without showing what I was wearing. My eyes widened as Eric came into view.
Smiling, he held up an envelope. “I have your contract,” he said, holding a large box as well.
“Um,” I hesitated, lost for words. “I didn’t expect to get it until the party.”
“I had to come out this way for some business, so I thought I’d drop it off to you.” His eyebrows rose. “Are you going to invite me in?”
“Um, I’m in my dressing gown. I don’t tend to change when it’s a writing day.”
He grinned wide. “No need to worry, I’ve seen you in a lot less. So, can I come in or are you going to leave a gentleman standing out here with a publishing contract in his hand?”
“Yeah, sorry.” I opened the door wider for him to enter, realising a second later he was walking into a shit-storm of mess. Refraining from cringing, I closed the door behind him as he stepped inside. “I’ll go get changed.”
“No need to.” His intense green-gold eyes lowered down me, then moved back up, fucking my body with his stare. My hair was a mess and I was in a dressing gown, yet he was looking at me as though I was the sexiest woman alive. I fidgeted with my belt, wishing he wouldn’t stare at me like that, and especially not in my own home.
“No, I should get changed. Just take a seat,” I said, cringing again, the pile of clothes on the couch leaving very little room. “I’ll be back in a minute.” Humiliated, I turned and headed down the passage as fast as I could go, hoping he didn’t think I was a slob—although I was, the state of the sitting room enough proof.
I closed my bedroom door behind me and undid my dressing gown, slipping it off. I jumped as the door opened.
Eric stepped inside, his eyes locking onto my bare breasts. “Sorry, I was looking for the bathroom.”
Horrified, I brought my arms up to cover them. “Get out, Eric!”
“I will once you tell me where the bathroom is.”
“It’s down the hallway, first on the right.”
He nodded, but remained still.
“Eric!”
His eyes moved to the bed, then back to me. “Wouldn’t you much rather I stay?”
“No, get out of my room,” I snapped, using anger to hide my fear. I bent down and swiped up my dressing gown, quickly pulling it on. I fumbled with the belt, wishing he would just leave.
He walked towards me, backing me up into a pile of stuff by the window. His hands went for my dressing gown belt, making me inhale sharply. Smiling, he tied it into a bow, then stepped back. “All better?”
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out, the fact he didn’t undress me taking me by surprise.
He lifted a hand to my face, brushing his fingers over my cheek. “When a lady says no, it means no. Though, you can’t fault me for trying.”
I remained still, his touch heating me in more places than my face, but I still wanted him to leave my room.
He removed his hand from my face. “I’ll be waiting for you in the lounge.” He turned and disappeared out the door, closing it behind him.
I remained glued to the spot, wondering whether that had really happened. After a few moments of stunned silence, my brain started working again. I grabbed a skirt and pulled it on without taking my dressing gown off, then undid the belt, pausing for a moment. Feeling irritated over what had happened, I dropped the belt and quickly pulled on a bra and shirt, then headed back into the sitting room. Eric was sitting on the couch with the contract on his lap.
I indicated to the kitchen. “Would you like a drink,” or your arse kicked by my husband? God, if Tom found out what Eric had done, the contract would be out the window and his fist in Eric’s face.
Eric smirked. “No, what I want is off the menu.”
I grimaced. “Can you please stop with the innuendos?”
“I was referring to alcohol.”
I f
rowned, sure he was lying.
“You don’t believe me?” he asked.
“Everything with you seems to have a sexual tinge.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment, but I was truly referring to alcohol. I’m an alcoholic, though I’m proud to say I haven’t touched a drop in four years.”
“Congratulations,” I said, wondering why he was telling me this.
“Not exactly something I should be congratulated on, considering the mess I made while I was drinking. But nonetheless, I didn’t come here to talk about me. I came here to explain your contract.” He patted the seat. “So, come sit next to me.”
I remained still, not liking his tone, the man practically ordering me like some sergeant major.
He lifted up the contract. “Don’t you want this?”
“Does it require me to sit next to you?”
He smiled. “It requires you to listen to what I say since you will be working for me.”
“I work for myself,” I said, not pointing out that I also worked for my sister.
“With what I’m going to pay for your books, I will be your boss. So, sit next to me.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m fine where I am.”
“Is this a competition now?”
“No, I just don’t like being ordered around or ogled in my bedroom.”
“I apologised for the bedroom incident, and I wasn’t ordering you to do anything, because if I was, you’d be on your knees sucking my cock.”
I pointed to the door. “Get out.”
He dropped the contract on the coffee table and flicked through it, placing one of Remy’s toy cars on a page. He glanced over at me with a smile, then straightened and headed around the coffee table to the door. “See you tomorrow night,” he said with a lingering look, then stepped outside, closing the door behind him.
I walked over to the blinds and peeked out. Eric casually strolled down my front path with a hand in the air, waving at me, as though he knew I would be watching him. I let go of the blinds, thinking he was an arrogant arsehole. I walked over to the couch and sat down, focusing on the page he’d left open. My eyes widened in shock at the zeros after the number one. He was going to pay me one million for my first three books as long as I... I looked closer, reading the small print ...as long as I signed the contract and went on a book tour through New Zealand, Australia, and the United Kingdom, along with America.
“Fuck me,” I muttered, absolutely shocked. I picked up the card he’d left and turned it over, finding writing on the back:
In the box is a red dress in your size. Wear it tomorrow night.
I opened the box and pulled out the red dress, the front cut low. There was no way I could wear that, not only because it would show off far too much flesh, but Tom would go crazy knowing who I’d gotten it from. I put the dress back in the box and closed it, planning to wear my green, black, and white skirt coupled with my black evening top.
I picked up the contract and placed it on the box, starting to read it from the beginning. When I had finished, I got the phone and dialled through to Tom. He picked up after the first three rings.
“Hi, love,” he said. “What’s up?”
“I got the contract. I’ve been offered a million dollars for my first three books—”
“Fuck me! So, he’s genuine after all.”
“Yeah,” I breathed out, not sure if that was true, but then again, it was a million, which was way too much to waste on sex. “Though, there’s a stipulation,” I added. “I have to do a book tour through New Zealand, Australia, Britain, and America.”
“How long for?”
“Six months, although it’s split up.”
“When does it start?”
“April.”
“Then I’ll take off work in the middle of it and bring the kids for a holiday.”
I agreed, satisfied with that, though not happy about leaving the kids at all, especially Nicky. I looked down at the contract, wondering if I could talk Eric into shortening the book tour.
“I’ll have a read of the contract when I get home,” Tom said, sounding happy.
“Sure.”
“You don’t sound excited. I thought this was what you wanted.”
“It is. I just don’t want to be away from you all for that long.”
“As I said, we’ll combine it with a holiday.” He laughed. “And you never know, soon I might be a kept man at your beck and call.” His voice lowered. “You know what I mean?”
I smiled, preferring Tom’s sexual innuendos over Eric’s. “I most certainly do.”
“Good, because tonight I’ll let you suck my cock.”
“That’s not at my beck and call.”
“It is when you want to suck my cock.”
I laughed, Tom cheering me up. “Maybe.”
“Don’t give me maybe, give me definitely. Anyway, I better get back to work before the boss fires me.”
“You are the boss.”
“No, you’re the boss, which means I have to let you suck me off tonight.”
“How do you figure that?”
“Because I’m an ambitious employee who wants to get ahead—or is that to get head? Yeah, baby! Your mouth, my dick, it’s a date.” He hung up before I could reply.
I clicked the phone off, perplexed that two men had asked for a dick sucking in one day, though only one of them was going to receive it, because I wasn’t going to suck Eric’s cock again, no matter what he said.
16
I drove through Eric’s gate onto his property, more than impressed by his home. It was an Old English-styled three-storey mansion, set amongst a landscape of manicured lawns and rose gardens. I parked next to a Porshe, one of the fancier cars lining the driveway.
I got out of my car and picked up the box with the dress and contract in it, then locked up and headed for the front door. I pressed the buzzer. A few moments later, the door was opened by a bona fide butler. He appeared to be in his late sixties and had thinning grey hair.
“Hello, madam,” he said in a posh British accent. “May I ask your name?”
“Kelly Hamlin.”
“Welcome to Master Firth’s home.” He held out his hands for the box. “May I take that for you?”
“No, it’s fine. I’d like to hand it to Mr. Firth myself.”
The butler nodded and moved to the side, allowing me to enter. He closed the door behind me as I stepped inside. “Please follow me.”
I walked across the marble foyer and into a large, but crowded ballroom. The butler bowed, then left me alone with a bunch of people I didn’t know. They were wearing evening wear, making me feel extremely underdressed. Now I understood why Eric had given me the dress. Still, if he’d warned me, I could’ve chosen one of my own dresses without him picking clothes out for me.
Movement out of the corner of my eye caught my attention. I turned to find Eric walking towards me with a stern expression, making me feel even more self-conscious about my choice in clothes. He looked like he’d stepped out of a James Bond movie in his black and white tuxedo, the man beyond debonair.
He stopped in front of me. “Why aren’t you wearing the dress I bought you?”
“You didn’t tell me it was this fancy.”
“I didn’t have to. I gave you a dress to wear. We have some very important people here tonight that can do you a world of good, but not dressed like that,” he said, indicating to my clothes, causing me to bristle at his snobbish attitude. He took a hold of my arm and directed me out of the room. I allowed him to get away with it, because I just wanted to get the hell out of there, especially since people were now looking our way. Though, once we were halfway across the foyer, I yanked my arm free from his grip.
He frowned at me, but instead of protesting, he turned to the butler, who was approaching us with a question in his eye. “Gerard,” Eric said, tapping the box I was holding. “Please take Mrs. Hamlin to a room so she can change into appropriate wear.”
Annoyed, I shuffled off after him, glancing over my shoulder to find Eric already on his way to the ballroom. I turned back around, almost knocking into the butler as he stopped suddenly.
He opened a door and stepped aside for me. “You may use this room. It has a full length mirror.”
Thanking him, I stepped inside, closing the door behind me. I switched on the light, finding a bed in the middle of the room with ornate cabinets surrounding it, the furniture fit for royalty.
I put the box on the bed and quickly removed my clothes. I slipped on the red dress, realising I couldn’t wear my bra with it, though thankfully it had its own support. I did it up, relieved I’d at least worn high heels, not something common for me.
I walked over to the full-length mirror, grimacing at the image reflected back. The dress contoured my breasts perfectly as well as making my waist appear small, the red material hugging my curves, but the problem was, it displayed way too much skin. Though, it left me curious as to how Eric knew my size, the dress fitting like a silky glove.
I opened up my purse and pulled out a red lipstick, running it over the gloss I had on, the colour finishing the look. Once done, I picked up my purse and removed the contract from the box, then headed for the door, hearing the butler loudly call out, “Master Tate, no!”
The door burst opened a second later. A young man resembling Eric bowled into the room. He stopped at the sight of me, his expression surprised. Then a slow grin spread across his face, his eyes now fucking me.
“Nice,” he drawled. “Are you for me?”
“No,” I replied, realising he must be Eric’s son. He looked in his early twenties, a younger version of his father, just with dark brown hair and blue eyes.
Overwhelmed Page 13