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“More,” she orders.
And then I’m moving inside of my mate. Faster and faster because soon I can’t contain myself. “Hold on,” I warn because now I’m pounding inside of her, losing my mind to the heat.
Camila cries out again and I can feel her channel clamping down on me, letting me know she’s in the throes of another release.
And then I’m coming. The feeling is so intense I throw back my head and roar out my release. I’m jetting out so much seed inside of her, it feels as if I’m emptying my entire body into hers.
Finally, I fall onto her side, the both of us sweaty and panting.
And I swear I felt the moment we created our first offspring.
6
Camila
Iwake up the next morning in bed with my boss.
He’s naked.
I’m naked.
I cannot believe any of it happened. Mr. Tusk is still asleep, and I look over and study him for a minute because the male beauty is stunning. He’s a work of commissioned art. His short dark hair is shaved close, but it still allows me to see the hint of grey at his temples. His tusks are retracted in sleep. Cut arms and a wide, hairy, muscular chest. The white sheet barely covers his hips and I can see the outline of his gorgeous penis at rest. The one that was inside of me many times last night, confirming I am no longer a virgin.
And he smells like sunshine and leather and…sex. Lots of sex.
I gave my virginity to Mr. Tusk?
I move and feel pleasantly sore between my thighs. We had sex last night once, twice. Another time at dawn. We ended up in the shower at one point but now I just don’t even know what to say.
I went home with my boss, gave up my virginity to him and agreed to marry him and have his babies?
He said my name is now Camila Tusk.
Since when do I make such quick decisions? Especially about something so life-changing? Normally, my sisters make fun of how long I deliberate over even the smallest choice. Almond or oat milk in my coffee? This could take thirty minutes. I’m cautious. I think through every step and the outcomes. That’s why I think I’m a good assistant because I do my homework before I act and make sure my employers have someone on their side who has thought everything through. And yet here I am with a new husband.
Yes, I’ve had a crush on Mr. Tusk since the first moment I saw his picture. Since I read that first correspondence. But that didn’t mean I’d ever thought anything could actually happen between us. My attraction for him started like a rush of admiration I’d have for a male celebrity. But it grew deeper as I got to know him better. I also knew he was unmated and single, which is why I allowed myself the freedom to daydream. I only knew him through our work connection, but how a person behaves at work says a lot about them as a person in general.
But I’d kept all those feelings tamped down and locked up tight. And now suddenly I’m in this alternate universe where we’re together and having sex?
What?
I get out of the bed naked, careful not to disturb my employer because I’m freaking out and I don’t want to wake him up. I slip away and grab my bag and sneak into the luxurious bathroom to use the toilet.
And then I stare at myself in the mirror over the sink. My makeup is smeared to hell and I’ve got serious bed head. Luckily, there’s make up remover wipes in my bag. And a travel toothbrush and toothpaste. Then I pull out my brush and work on my hair and tie it up into my favorite messy bun. And this is when I really notice the hickies on my neck and breasts and all the tiny red marks all over my skin from those amazing tusks.
I’ve been well used and fucked by Derwen Tusk.
My boss.
And in return I had my hands all over every part of his amazing hot body and my mouth took his cock, and I swallowed too.
My cheeks feel hot and so does the area between my thighs. Images of him taking me against the wall of the shower keep floating through my mind.
I step back out of the bathroom, still naked and find Mr. Tusk in our mating bed, looking like a sleepy superhero from an action movie.
Mating bed? Jeez.
I open a drawer really careful and quiet and find nothing I can wear. Then I find one of his shirts in the walk-in closet. A white shirt like one of the ones I picked out for him. I put it on and button it up and my heart lightens the moment I remember that this is a beach house. How could I have forgotten? The curtains are closed in this bedroom, but if I leave and explore the house in daylight, I can see all the views. And the thought of the ocean outside and nearby already settles me. I grab the same black jacket I used from last night, along with a pair of Mr. Tusk’s black socks, because it’s already chilly around here.
