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“It’s too much. I can’t… please,” I beg. He gives my clit another couple of long, slow, intense sucks, then pulls back. He gets to his feet and looks down at me, spread open for him.
“You taste so damn good, Poppy,” he says. And then he pulls me up and lowers his lips to mine. I can taste myself on his lips, on his tongue, and it’s the sexiest, most erotic thing I’ve ever experienced. “I could spend all night with my face between your thighs, making you scream for me,” he murmurs against my lips. I whimper, and he deepens our kiss as his hands trail down my body, over my back, to my ass. He grips my ass in his hands, pulling me toward him. I can feel his erection pressing into my belly, and I moan. He’s massaging my ass cheeks, his fingers getting dangerously close to touching me where no one else ever has.
I press myself closer to him, and he groans. He pulls back, then pulls something out of his pocket. I recognize the foil packet immediately, and my pussy throbs in response. He’s not done with me yet. My body is so sensitized, so tender from what he’s already done to me, but I’ve never wanted anything so badly in my life.
He unbuttons his pants and unzips his fly, and I realize he’s going to fuck me while he’s still fully dressed, suit, tie, and all, and somehow that makes this all the more erotic. His cock springs free, and I moan. It’s long, thick, and I know he’s going to fill me completely. I watch as he rolls the condom onto his cock, and then he turns me around and bends me over the arm of the chaise. I grip the cushion and wait.
“So wet again, Poppy,” he murmurs. “Are you never satisfied?” he asks, and there’s a hint of humor in his dark voice. “Look at you. You’re dripping for me.”
I bury my face in the cushion of the chaise lounge, mortified, and more turned on than I’ve ever been in my life. No one has ever talked to me this way.
“So needy,” he murmurs. “So ready to please me. Aren’t you?”
“Yes,” I whisper. His hands are on my ass again, massaging, spreading me, and the thought that he’s looking at me, that he’s seen every part of my body this intimately, briefly has me wondering how I’ll face him when this is over.
He gives my ass a not-so-gentle pat, and I moan for what seems like the fiftieth time.
“Now, just relax,” he murmurs. And then his hands are on my hips, and before I can think of anything else, he enters pushes himself into me. I cry out as he stretches me, fills me so full I swear I’m about to split. The pain is sharp at first but then starts to recede.
“That’s it. Take it all, darling,” he purrs, and a moment later, I feel his balls pressing against my clit as my body tries to accommodate him.
I have a momentary flash, a twisted memory, of seeing my father fucking his secretary just like this, her bent over his desk, and it hits me, that it’s happening all over again—the older, more powerful man rutting the younger woman like an animal.
And then Nathaniel starts to pound into me harder, and it falls away, buried under my need for him.
“Oh God oh God oh God” is all I can manage as he slowly pulls out and then slips back into me, and I scream. “Again. Please do it again,” I beg, and he does, thrusting into me over and over again, giving me exactly what I’ve needed since the moment I first laid eyes on him. He’s holding my hips so firmly I wonder if he’ll leave bruises, and deflowering my sensitive, aching pussy as if he’s lost his mind, grunting with exertion and desire.
And then he starts taking me faster still, hammering into me, and he puts his hands on my shoulders and presses me down firmer, holding me in place as he takes me. This sense of being dominated, of being used, has me coming so hard I can feel my own juices wetting my thighs.
“That’s it, my little virgin. Come all over my cock,” he growls, and then I’m coming again, as if all he had to do is command it and it would be so. When I come down again, he turns me over and reenters me. Now I’m looking up at him, my hips tilted up toward him, and he’s so deep in me that I know no man—definitely no man my own age—will ever be able to satisfy me this way again.
He’s ruined me. One good, dirty, naughty, cherry-popping fuck and I know no one will ever compare to him.
His eyes are on mine, and he starts thrusting harder, faster, his hands gripping my breasts. He’s pounding into me mercilessly, and all I can do is hold on and take every mind-blowing second.
When he comes, he comes shouting my name, his voice hoarse with need and exertion.
When he’s finally spent, he pulls out of me, steps away, and takes off the condom, wrapping it in tissue and throwing it away. I stand up, feeling like I’ve just woken from a dream. I glance at him, and he’s looking at me, his gaze still hot, still possessive and hungry.
