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“I’m a little sad that this is over,” I say to Chris as I come into the main room.
He frowns. “You don’t think I’m not going to see you in Seattle, right?”
“No, not that. I just mean that we won’t get to work together like this again. It was fun.”
He stands up and is by my side in three steps, sweeping me back into a dip and kissing me. He’s kissing me like the world might end tomorrow, and I don’t think I ever want to be kissed another way again. His tongue tangles with mine, and the way he has of exploring every crevice of my mouth turns me on like nothing I’ve experienced before. “The hell we won’t work together,” he says.
“What?” I ask as he sets me upright.
“I’ve put in a request back at the central office,” he says. “I want you to be transferred to my creative team. I want you to work with me on this campaign and all my campaigns. And when they ask you, you’d better not say no.”
“Say no? Why on earth would I say no.” I jump on him, forcing him to catch me. “That’s amazing, thank you.”
I try to kiss him but he pulls back. “Don’t thank me, you were right all along. You said that I would change my mind about you. You just didn’t know how much I would change my mind.”
“Maybe we should try terrible ideas more often,” I say.
He nods, carrying me over to the bed. “Yes. It has seemed to work out pretty well.” He sets me down, inspecting me. “I see that you changed your clothes. But the problem is that you still have way too many of them on.”
I raise an eyebrow at him. “Is that so.”
“It is,” he says, his eyes going dark. “I have plans for you this afternoon, and none of them involve clothes.”
I peel my t-shirt off over my head, and I watch his eyes devour me. I let the shirt fall to the floor, and then the bra. Chris reaches out, taking one of my breasts in his hand, rolling it in his palm, playing with the nipple. I close my eyes, and let the sensations echo through me, racing all the way down to my pussy where I’m already growing wet with anticipation. “I’m never going to get tired of these,” he says, squeezing my breast. “In fact, I remember saying that I wanted to fuck them.”
My heart kicks up a notch, and I watch as he slowly strips down in front of me. He reveals his delicious body piece by piece, and I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of looking at it. He sheds his pants, and his cock is already hard. I’ve not had the chance to examine it in detail over the last few days, but as far as dicks go, it’s pretty freaking gorgeous. Made even more so because I know exactly how it can drive my body mad. I slip off my pants as Chris disappears into the bathroom, reappearing with on of the hotels tiny complimentary bottles—hand lotion.
He hands me the bottle. “Put this on your breasts.” His tone leaves no room for argument.
I’ve never done this before, but like some of the other things I’ve done these past few days, the idea piques my curiosity. I tap a bit of lotion into my hand spreading it across my chest and down across my breasts. “Don’t rub it in,” Chris says. He’s watching me with avid eyes, his hand already stroking his cock. I repeat the process painting my breasts white with lotion while he watches. I move back on the bed, lying down, and Chris follows me. He over me, knees on either side of my ribs and his sheer size is intimidating. He’s towering over me, and he looks powerful. Strong. His cock is pointed at my mouth, and I open it. I suck the tip of him in, watching him close his eyes to savor the sensation. Then he reaches down, pushing my breasts together with his hands, slipping his cock in between them.
The sensation is entirely alien, slick and smooth and strange. Chris lets out a groan as he pushes his cock in-between my breasts, slowly at first. I reach up, replacing his hand pressing my breasts together. I press them tighter, making him work for every stroke. He holds onto the headboard, moving his hips faster, thrusting harder. Seeing the way he’s reacting, making small sounds of pleasure as he thrusts, turns me on, and I rub my legs together, hoping for a tiny relief to the pressure building down in my core.
Chris moves faster as he fucks my breasts, suddenly letting go of any hesitation he had. He curses, and I press harder on his cock. I move my own breasts up and down as he moves, against me, creating friction and heat between our skin. His mouth is open as he moves, totally lost in the feeling, and seeing him that way is really fucking hot. His rhythm starts to falter, and I realize that he’s close. He pushes is cock all the way though the channel, the tip of it nearly touching my chin when he spills over. He groans loudly, his cum spurting hot and fast over my breasts. He thrusts again, and with each thrust, there’s more heat.
He comes back to himself slowly, looking down at me with a haze of lust in his eyes. “Holy fuck that was hot,” he says, and I nod. Because it was, and now my body is dying for his attention. Chris disappears into the bathroom again and reappears with a damp washcloth. Slowly, carefully, he cleans me up. My skin heats under his touch, and by the time he’s finished wiping my breasts, I’m practically clawing at him. He tosses the cloth all the way to the bathroom, diving down onto the bed with me. With an ease that still marvels me, he pulls me on top of him, twisting and lifting our position of a few minutes ago so we’re reversed. This time I’m on top, and I’m dangerously close to his delicious mouth.
“I like this view,” he says, gazing up my body and past my breasts to my face. “I think I’ll have to see this view more often.”
His tongue darts out of his mouth, briefly touching my clit and waking up my nerves, and I gasp. “I don’t think I would have a problem with that.”
“I didn’t think you would.” His laughter booms in his chest and vibrates through my entire body.
Chris uses his mouth deliberately, taking his time exploring my pussy. His tongue teases my entrance, circling it and darting inside, only to dart out again and around. He places kisses on my clit, sucking briefly, before letting me go again. I’ve already figured out that he enjoys working me up with random patterns, so I don’t try to figure out where he’s going to touch me next. I do just as he did, reaching out to grab the headboard and let him do his work. He circles my clit with his tongue, sending shuddering waves of pleasure along my spine and causing my hips to buck against his face. He doesn’t seem to mind though, it actually seems to make him work harder.
His hands slide up my legs to grip my hips, and he presses his tongue deep inside my pussy. With long, sweeping strokes, he licks me from the inside out, and my wetness increases because it feels fucking incredible. My hips start to move and he guides me with his hands, encouraging me to go faster, harder. I press down, and he presses back, and now I’m riding his tongue. Having his tongue this far inside me feels unbearably intimate, and also exactly right. The swirling motion of it is waking up nerves that I never even knew I had. He moves his mouth to my clit, sucking me deep, but I can’t stop the motion of my hips, and he uses it to his advantage. Each time I pull away, his mouth pulls on me, and my clit feels deliciously stretched, only to be engulfed in the heat of his mouth again. Chris is using his tongue to stroke the underside with perfect consistency, and I can feel my orgasm building right behind my clit.
I’m breathing hard, my voice coming out in one long moan, and oh god that feels so good and I can’t stop, please Chris, don’t stop. I’m so close to coming, and Chris digs his fingers into my hips, forcing me to be suddenly still, and pulling me harder onto his mouth. He works me steadily with his lips and tongue, and my knuckles are white on the headboard because I’m so close, and sweet god—
Chris grazes his teeth over my clit, and it sends me over. I scream Chris’s name, my pussy flooding his mouth with my cum. My hips are moving again, desperately trying to get every ounce of pleasure from his mouth. My muscles are limp with it, totally sated.
He lets me down onto the bed, where he holds me as I recover. “Shit,” I manage to say, and he laughs. I’ve never experienced the kind of chemistry we have, and I’m so glad that he needed to blow off steam.
If he hadn’t, we might still be in separate rooms glowering at each other through the walls. “So, Mr. Flintlock,” I say, checking the time and seeing that we still have all afternoon before we have to be anywhere. “Do you have any more terrible ideas?”
He gives me that wicked smile, rolling over and pinning me to the bed with his body. “Oh, so many, Ms. Brown.”
