AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I grin, sliding a piece from her hand to snap in place with the corner I’ve located. “Good thing we use the same methodology then.”
We work on the outline of the puzzle, quickly assembling the rectangle. Sometimes her arm brushes against mine and I love the feel of her skin, smooth and soft. Her apartment is warm enough that she seems comfortable in her sleeveless sparkle dress.
“So,” she says eventually. “You’re pretty comfortable with scientific lingo.”
I nod. “I run the machine learning department at Beltane Engineering. I think we started to talk about that, but I’m never eloquent at parties.”
“Oh, that makes sense.” Lyra nods. “I’m the CEO at Vinea.” I blink in disbelief. “You know, the data analytics company?”
“I know Vinea, yes.” My mouth is dry. This woman, Lyra Gwan, is CEO of the hottest tech company around. Their clients are Fortune 50-level elite. No wonder her damn cat is named after a legend. “Could I get a glass of water or something?” I tug at my collar and loosen my bowtie. Now I’m nervous again.
Lyra clucks her tongue. “Of course. God, I’m sorry. I should have offered right away. Are you hungry?” She busies herself getting water and a bag of crackers picturing a snarky whale. She slides back into her seat. “These were my favorite when I was a kid. My dad just brought them back from Korea recently.”
I reach into the bag, and pull out a puffy orange star. “Oh,” I say, biting in. “It’s like fish crackers.” She nods. We munch for a bit, occasionally reaching for a puzzle piece. “I’m just super impressed that you run Vinea,” I say, eventually. “I’d love to build a partnership with you guys. I mean…I dream of writing algorithms like yours.”
She smiles. “I don’trunVinea. Not alone, anyway. Our founder is the one who does the algorithms. I manage the business aspects and focus on partnership.”
We talk shop for a bit, quickly working through most of the puzzle, before Emilie jumps on the table and won’t be moved. We both laugh and finish off the crackers.
“I think this is the best birthday I’ve ever had,” I say, petting the cat and draping my arm across the back of Lyra’s chair. I do it without thinking, but she doesn’t shirk away when she feels my hand resting against her shoulder. Instead, she turns to me and smiles, her hand finding mine as we stroke Emilie’s fur together.
“Would you like to pet my cat,” she asks again, arching one brow and licking her lips.
I inhale sharply and my hand stills. “Was that a euphemism?”
She nods. And then she leans in and kisses me.
5
LYRA
I feel socomfortable with Ray, like nothing matters and everything matters all at once. When I lean in to kiss him, I taste the cheesy crackers on his plump lips but that’s soon overpowered by the pheromones. The essence of Rayland washes over me, whether I believe in that or not, and my lizard brain is very turned on.
I spent so much of my life focused on what I needed to do to get ahead. It’s a common story with children of immigrants—education is everything and anything else is a distraction. Well, I’m the CEO of an up-and-coming tech company, I have an MBA from Stanford, and I’m ready for distraction, damn it.
Ray moans as my tongue pokes at his lower lip and he opens his mouth a bit wider. He slides closer to me on the wooden chair and I feel the heat of his body radiating through his dress shirt. I want to feel what’s beneath that shirt. I want this man to pet my pussy.
I grip his shirt in both hands, bunching the fabric and appreciating the fine quality of the material. “Ray,” I whisper, pulling my head back just the smallest bit. “We should go into my bedroom.”
He nods and stands. I expect him to follow me, and I start to turn and walk away, but I feel his hands on my hips. I’m in his arms in a whoosh of giggles I wouldn’t have predicted and I look up to see his crooked grin as he hoists me into the air. Ray strides forward and grunts as he tosses me on the bed. Never believe that PhD computer scientists aren’t sexy, because I lie there with my weight on my elbows, watching as he strips for me.
“Before I pet your cat,” he drawls, “I think you should know I’m up to date on all my shots.”
I laugh at his ridiculous safety joke but he stops with his hands on his trouser button and catches my eye. “I don’t have a condom.”
I nod. “Well, Rayland, this pussycat is prepared for play time.” I stretch out my arm to my night stand and pull open the drawer. Ray peeks inside, and when he finds the tidy stack of condoms, bottle of lube, and hot pink vibrator, he pumps his fist in the air.
“We should probably get you out of that dress.” He slides his pants over his hips as I wriggle out of the sequined gown I spent so long agonizing over. “Oh fuck, Lyra, look at you.” I glance down, one hand falling to my stomach. My breath catches under the heat of his gaze and I nearly gasp as he dips his head to lick my tummy.
“Is that what your pussy wants, Lyra? My tongue?” At first I think Ray is really leaning in to this game where we talk about cats, but when he yanks my panties down my legs and settles himself in between my thighs, I realize there’s nothing playful about him right now.
He looks wild, nearly savage as he runs his tongue over his lips. A finger spreads me open so gently and I whimper as he ghosts the pad of his thumb over my clit. “Such a perfect pussy,” he says, his voice low. Gone is the nerdy puzzle enthusiast from my dining room. In his place is a connoisseur of my vulva, delicately petting and teasing me to the edge, before drawing back and looking up to check that I’m still here.
I lie on my back panting, my hands dropping to his shoulders as he teases me. “Please, Ray,” I beg after he touches every inch of my pussy except the pleasure center I so badly need.
He grins again and bends, licking me. I feel his lips on my bud, hear him moan in pleasure as I feel a band of fireworks spread along my spinal cord. “So good,” I purr and then I mash my fists into the blankets as Ray increases the suction. I feel his lips and his tongue everywhere, relentlessly gulping me down. Those fingers I first saw peeling the label from a beer bottle explore my channel, twisting and spiraling until—“Oh, shit, I’m coming!” I moan, a deep wailing sound, as I soar under his touch.
“That’s it, Lyra,” he whispers. I open my eyes and see him resting his chin on my hip bone, one hand pressing against my clit as I come down from the wave, the other wiping across his mouth to catch the moisture there. My moisture. “So hot,” he mutters.
