Just the Sex: Erotic Shorts

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Just the Sex: Erotic Shorts Page 7

by Alessandra Torre


  “Kiss me,” he commanded.

  I shook my head with a smile. “No. Keep touching me.”

  A second hand joined his first, both palms sweeping up and cradling my breasts, the pull of the fabric joined with the rough skin of his palms temptingly perfect. He growled, low in his throat. “Like this?” He squeezed, a little rougher on my nipples, my breath catching.

  “Yeah.”

  “Then kiss me.” He bucked up with his hips, throwing me forward, his upper body lifting, his mouth looking for mine, but I turned my head, gave him my neck, giggling when he nipped it.

  “Not yet,” I whispered. “I’m not going to kiss you until his cock is deep inside of me.”

  His hands tightened on me, and he groaned my name as he tore at the straps of my dress, pulling the fabric from me, a shiver running through me as my upper body was exposed.

  There was a click of a door handle, and my breath caught as I looked up, seeing the black door swing open, a tall suit of gorgeous stepping inside, a phone at his ear, our eyes catching onto and holding each other.

  Click. The door shut behind him, and I froze, aware of my bare skin, Brad’s mouth making a wet path down my neck, his hands pushing me into place, arching my back as he traveled over my cleavage, flipping his tongue gently over and then sucking my nipple into his mouth. I gasp at the sensation, my eyes still stuck on Marc, and watch as he smiles, ending his call and tossing the cell aside, plastic on granite, a sliding sound fading into nothing as I watch him step forward, down the steps, into the sunken living room, his legs carrying him behind the couch, ‘til he stood in front of me and looked down. “You started without me,” he said softly, a bit of accent coating his words. Then Brad did something with his mouth, something on my nipple that made my body squirm, need growing, and I dropped my head back and broke eye contact.

  Brad leaned forward, laying me back, his hands replacing his mouth. “Do you want a blindfold?”

  “No,” I gasped, opening my eyes and propping my body up, meeting his gaze, my stare flicking to the man standing behind Brad, his hands resting on the couch back, his eyes meeting mine. Dark blue fire. A confident smile. So much like Brad in so many ways. It was strange to have my eyes open, knowing the man I was looking at was about to touch me. To fuck me.

  There was a soft slap of fabric as Marc removed his jacket and tossed it onto the sofa, fabric hitting leather, his hands unbuttoning and rolling back his sleeves. I watch his hands, avoiding his eyes, my cheeks warming, bashfulness overtaking me.

  “Nervous?” His voice was quiet, a tinge of playfulness in their tone.

  I looked up, meeting those dark depths. “A little.”

  “Don’t be. I play nicely. Plus,” he said, looking over to Brad with a smile, “I’m scared of the big guy.”

  “As you should be,” Brad spoke from underneath me, settled back down on the couch, his eyes on me, his hands running over my skin, over my breasts, rough then soft, perfect patterns that kept my nipples hard and my cunt wet. “She is my everything.” I smiled, looking down on him, his mouth tilting up, asking for, then receiving, a kiss. Damn. So much for that game plan. But I couldn’t stay away from his mouth. It fit too perfectly on my own.

  I saw, out of the corner of my eye, the man move. Walk to the bar, fix a drink, then move closer. I glanced at him, saw him watching me, his hand moving down for a quick adjustment before he sat next to us on the couch, but down a few feet. He reclined back against the leather, taking a slow sip of his drink, the clink of ice cubes registering to my ears. Brad pinched lightly at one of my nipples, drug my attention back to him. I leaned down, gave him a long kiss as his hands roamed me, strong drags of fingers across my skin, possession in every inch, every touch. He lifted up slightly, his hands pushing down my hips as he ground into me, the friction of his arousal causing my eyes to close, a small moan to slip out of me.

  “Get on your knees. The ottoman.”

  I looked back, understanding Brad’s directive when I saw the big leather ottoman, one that acted as a coffee table. I slid off him, letting him lean forward and drag the furniture piece over until it was flush with the sofa. He spread his legs slightly and pulled out his dress shirt. Unbuckling his pants, he drug down the zipper. “Your mouth. Come here, baby.”

  I climbed onto the ottoman, getting on all fours, my hands helping to pull his cock out, everything in the room disappearing as I lowered my mouth to him. I loved to suck his cock. I loved the taste of it. It tasted of need. Of raw, animal want, and never failed to cause a twinge in my stomach, a weight of arousal in my sex. I pushed him down my throat and felt him harden in my mouth.

  I was caught off guard when a firm hand closed around my ankle.

  ***

  I opened my eyes, my mouth full, and met Brad’s eyes. They stared into mine, no hint of a smile, nothing but raw possession in their depths. This is the animal Brad, my favorite side of him, a side I only see in these moments, when he is watching me with another, and every alpha male instinct is on high alert. His mouth moved, curved into a reassuring smile, but his eyes were dark. Aroused. I could feel his level of want in my mouth, hard and ready, his hand settling on the back of my head and pushing down. “Take it all.”

  I wouldn’t. I couldn’t. But I took as much as I could, feeling, all the while, the slide of Marc’s fingers over my skin, his weight as it settled onto the ottoman behind me. Felt his hands slide up my leg and gently work the ankle strap of my heels, careful fingers working the shoe off. Thud. One hit the floor, my foot released, his hands moving to the other. Thud. Then my feet were bare, free, and his hands were on the move. Sliding up my leg, the doggie-style position giving him a front row view to touch, travel, and then—gasp, his tongue caught me off guard—taste my skin as he moved up my legs and gripped my ass.

  ***

  He wasn’t Brad; he couldn’t compare, the condom was an additional irritant, but the man could fuck. Holy hell, could he fuck. And from the glimmer in Brad’s eyes, he loved my reaction. I laid on my side, on the bed, Marc kneeling between my legs, his cock quick and fast, thinner than Brad’s, but hard as a diamond. He played rough, spanking my exposed ass cheek, the first hand laid, ten minutes earlier, light and questioningly, my grin and nod urging him to continue. Now he slapped my skin with aggression, the rough fucks taking me closer and closer to where I needed to be. I looked at Brad, his legs spread, still fully dressed, settled into a chair, his bare cock upright and fisted, his palm slowly stroking its length. Dark playfulness in his eyes. Why did I ever wear a blindfold? Jesus, the look in his eyes … I’d get on my knees and scrub the kitchen floor naked if it would bring on that look. An intense heat, possessive and aroused. I cursed any moment that I missed out on it. Just a glance at it, and I was soaked.

  Brad stood, his cock at attention, forcing its way through the hang of his button-up shirt. He stepped over, climbing onto the bed and knelt before me, bringing his dick to my mouth, letting me have a taste of it before he sat back on his heels, stroking with his left hand, slowly and purposefully, just inches from my face.

  His right hand played over my breasts, squeezing, teasing, then traveling up to my neck, wrapping a firm hand around it, not enough to choke, but enough that I paid attention, my pussy tightening around Marc’s cock.

  “Fuck Brad, she’s gonna make me come.” The man swore out the words, his fingers digging into the meat of my butt, one finger stealing over and putting pressure on the pucker of my ass.

  “Don’t stop, she’s close.” Brad leaned down, kissed me, deep and hard, his hand on my neck, my eyes stealing a glimpse of his cock. He lifted off my mouth, his hand tightening slightly. “God, you’re beautiful.” He turned his head to Marc, keeping his eyes on me. “Faster.”

  Marc obeyed, giving me more, harder. Exactly. What. I …

  Fuck.

  I took a gasp for air, getting one final look before my world went black, and I came on Marc’s cock.

  Moments later, I tasted the man�
�s completion—hot and wet in my mouth. Brad finished the job inside of me. With Marc leaving us alone, Brad’s hard body above mine, one hand in my hair, his kiss on my lips, I wrapped my legs tightly, felt his shudder, and celebrated one more loosening of my sexual strings.

  The blindfold. I didn’t need it.

  semi-private.

  coming apart.

  in his hands.

  We ended the tour in an upper-level VIP room, seated at a private alcove that looked down upon the club. Janine killed power to a small video camera that looked into the space, and we sat down around a cocktail table.

  “When will the changeover take place?” she asked, leaning forward and meeting both of our eyes.

  “I’ve already transferred the stock certificates. Scott Burge, an attorney from my firm, will send over an operating agreement for you to sign. You should receive that this week. Once that is complete, I will be completely out.”

  She glanced at me guardedly, hesitating before speaking. “Julia, I’ve never been very good with tact, so I’ll come right out with this. Brad and Evelyn have left me alone, occasionally visiting the club and having monthly conference calls to discuss finances. I’m not used to having a boss, and that isn’t something I am particularly interested in.”

  Brad started to speak, and I silenced him, touching his arm lightly. “I plan on having the same level of involvement as Brad. I am not familiar with Saffire and have little to no experience in the business world. Brad says you are an excellent operator, and I trust his judgment. Assuming we continue or improve the current level of revenue, I see no reason to get involved in your business.”

  Her features relaxed noticeably. “I would appreciate that. Do you have any other questions I can answer while you are here?”

  I couldn’t think of anything she had missed during the last hour. I shook my head and glanced at Brad to see if he had any thoughts.

  He leaned forward, speaking, “I think we’re good, Janine. I’ll join in on the call next week with Julia, so we can touch base then. Look for that package from our firm.”

  She nodded, moving quickly to her feet, her eyes already roaming the club. “If that’s all, I’d like to get back downstairs.”

  “We’ll stay here and chat for a bit,” Brad said, throwing an arm over the back of my chair.

  “Just turn back on the security cam when you’re done.” She gave us both smiles and left, moving at a quick pace, speaking into a mouthpiece as she moved.

  I let out a breath, turning to Brad with a smile. “She’s nice.”

  He scoffed. “Did you expect her to be a bitch to her new boss?”

  My mouth turned up slightly. “I thought we just clarified that I’m not her boss.”

  “I never treated her like an employee, despite the majority ownership I held. I’m sure you will follow suit.”

  “You know I will.”

  Then his eyes changed, from friendly to dark, and I knew, before he even lifted a hand, what was coming.

  I felt the tug on my chair as Brad pulled me close to him. He captured my face in his hands, his eyes examining my features. “I love you so much,” he murmured, his eyes moving over and focusing on my lips before he tugged me to him, taking ownership of my mouth with a few soft swipes of his tongue. I opened my lips further, deepening the contact, my hands stealing into his hair. I broke the kiss, pushing my chair back and standing, moving closer to him and spreading his knees with my legs. He slid deeper in the chair, reclining back against the soft leather, gazing up at me with a latent dominance of the nothing-but-trouble variety. I grinned playfully down at him, and slid one strap, then the other, of my dress down, dragging the fabric until my bare breasts were exposed, lit softly by the blue-gray lights of the room.

  He groaned softly, a guttural sound, and stared into my eyes, tightening his knees against my legs. “Come here.”

  I shook my head and knelt, running my hands softly up his dress pants, past his muscular thighs, until I reached his belt. He watched me, his eyes darkening and he leaned forward suddenly, snagging my chin and pulling it up, his eyes grabbing me possessively before kissing me hard, a deep kiss that reclaimed his power before he released me, leaning back and watching me.

  “Do you always have to be in control, Mr. De Luca?” I purred the words, unbuckling his belt with one motion, then rubbed my hand over the zipper line, feeling the outline of his cock underneath the fabric, the shape of him hardening under my fingers. He didn’t answer, his eyes locked on mine, dark orbs of sexuality. I suddenly needed to see him, needed to have his bare skin in my hand, to feel the throb of what was mine. I looked away from his eyes, focusing, and unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. Then, he was in my hand, an impossibly thick, hard shaft, the skin hot beneath my palm. I stroked it, the firm grip eliciting an intake of Brad’s breath.

  “Put it in your mouth.” The order came through in a drugged tone, desire glowing at me from under heavy eyelids.

  I shook my head, increasing the speed of my stroke as I watched him. He frowned slightly, lifting his hips a bit, bringing the nine inches of insanity closer to my face. I spoke, my tone a mixture of dominance and bite. “What is your plan with the girl?”

  He sat up slightly, his eyes opening more, and watching me carefully. “What girl?”

  “The stripper. The one you fucked last time you were here.”

  “I thought that didn’t bother you.”

  I hissed. “It didn’t bother me last time. Things are different now. Are you going to talk to her?”

  “I feel like this is a test of some sort …” he mumbled. His breath hitched a bit as I squeezed his cock, loving the feel of complete stiffness in my hands. “What is you want, Julia?”

  I ran my tongue lightly, teasingly, over the top of his head, taking it into my mouth for one brief moment before I pulled off, my hands never pausing in their movement, a quick pace that traveled his entire length with every stroke. “I want you to handle it,” I said firmly. “I want her to understand that you will never have sex with her again.”

  “Never?” I released him, the sudden departure causing his eyes to open and a frown to settle over his features. “I’m joking. Don’t stop.”

  I resumed my movement, my free hand gathering his heavy balls in my hand, squeezing him softly as I stroked his length with a firm hand.

  “Come here,” he said, sitting up and pulling on my arms.

  “No.” I fixed him with my sternest look, my hand increasing in speed.

  “Julia, come here. I want to talk to you about this without being tongue-tied by your hands on my cock.” He pulled harder, his strong arms lifting me easily onto his lap, despite my best attempt at resistance.

  Sitting on his lap created a new set of problems. Mainly him, standing at attention against my thighs. I sat sideways on his lap and spread my knees slightly, my hand stealing in between my legs to grab him.

  He relented, shifting slightly so I would have better access and turned my face to his. Stole a kiss. I leaned back against his chest, my tension releasing slightly. His hand ran lightly up my thigh, gently, slowly moving toward the silk wisp of fabric that comprised my panties. “Are you trying to distract me, Mr. De Luca?” I breathed, my body tightening in anticipation as his second hand joined in, stealing up my stomach until it hit the exposed skin that was my breasts.

  “Never,” he said, his fingers caressing the silk of my panties, sliding over and over the triangle of fabric, my clit awaking underneath his touch, under the slow, perfect swipes of his fingers. I shifted, tilting my pelvis upward and pushed his hand down, letting out a soft moan when his fingers hit the place where my panties became practically non-existent. He stroked that spot, leaving the thong in place, his thumb strumming a steady rhythm over my clit as his fingers stroked my wetness. I moaned again, pushing on his hand, waiting, needing more. My eyes found his cock, heavy and thick against my leg, and I panted at the sight of glistening moisture at its hard tip.

  “You’r
e not going to get this subject to go away with sex,” I mumbled, as my mind threw out all reasonable thought processes and prepared to fully enter De Luca worship mode.

  “I believe,” he whispered in my ear, “that you were the one who brought sex into this conversation.”

  Then his finger moved, a strong motion that pushed aside my thong and thrust into my sex. I gasped, throwing back my head and pushed greedily down on his hand. A second finger joined the first, and they moved in perfect succession, fully inside and crooking inside of me, delicious swipes that had my eyes rolling back in ecstatic delirium. I reached out my hands, gripping his legs and squeezing, needing some type of grounding solidity to bring me back to reason.

  His arms held me still, one wrapped around my pelvis and ending at the wet burial between my legs, the other holding my back tightly against his chest, the forearm hard against my stomach, the hand traveling from breast to breast, squeezing, teasing, and worshipping my tender skin.

 

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