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Xavier
“Rhiannon, come on.” I swear this girl will be the death of me. After the performance at the art gallery last week, I’m not letting this girl out of my damn sight. And that’s fine. I like the sight of her. She has one of those faces, you know? The kind you can’t turn away from no matter how hard you try. And I tried that night, when she looked at me as if I’d given her the moon. She's clawing her way in under my skin and fuck if I haven't thought twice about things. But then, I see my mother’s corpse and remember why I'm doing this. “Let’s go, Rhi,” I yell again to her closed door.
She finally opens it, wearing jeans and a flowery top that slides off the slope of one creamy shoulder. “I’m ready,” she says, brushing past me with a stubborn tilt to her chin.
“Took you long enough.”
She’s infuriating, but cute as hell. “And let’s not have a repeat of the last time I took you out,” I grumble.
She crosses her finger over her heart as a swear that's no doubt a lie, and we head off to my waiting car.
Once we arrive downtown, I lead her into the skyrise which houses my offices.
“Why are we here?” she asks with eyes so big I could get lost and never find myself.
“Business,” I answer, ushering her into my private elevator.
She lets out a sigh and leans her shoulder against the wall. I push the button and step away from her sweet scent.
“Just a little bit longer, and then you’re home free,” I tell her, letting my eyes linger on her petite frame.
From the moment we stepped foot in this building, I can’t stop staring at her. In the car, I worked through emails and made a few calls to distract myself. Otherwise, I might've shoved her back on the leather seat and threw her legs over my shoulders.
I run a hand through my hair just to keep it from touching her. Being alone with her, here in this tiny fucking elevator, has my body on high-alert.
I know I shouldn’t be enjoying the view of her cleavage swelling against her blouse. Or the way her throat moves every time she swallows. And I sure as fuck shouldn't be thinking about her swallowing me after I come in her mouth while she takes me between those pouty lips on her knees in this elevator.
But I am.
I’m imagining her dropping before me and palming my cock. The contact would have me groaning louder than I ever have before.
I’ve never wanted anyone this much.
She’d unzip my pants and push them down along with my briefs. My cock would jut out, and if she licked her lips, well fuck me. Heaven.
I’d ask, “You want a taste?”
She’d meet my gaze, nodding her head as I leaned back to give her better access.
She’d wrap her soft hand around the base, and I’d squeeze my eyes shut and let out a low hiss.
Nothing would prepare me for when her lips first make contact with the tip of my dick. I know it would be the best feeling. No doubt in my mind.
Nothing else would compare. Her lips would work magic, her tongue like a damn voodoo priestess. And when she put me in her mouth, I would grab hold of her silky hair, and she would suck, and I would pray to the heavens above to never let this end. Suspend time, please, someone, anyone. I’d beg for the moment to last forever and ever.
“Yeah, suck me,” I’d say.
My words of encouragement would have her lapping at my skin at a quicker pace.
She’d run her tongue along my balls, and I’d groan louder.
Fuck, it would be the best damn blow job in the history of forever.
She’d swirl her tongue around the tip, driving me insane, and then she’d take me completely in her mouth, going down as far as she could, and my dick would hit the back of her throat.
My cock is steel, straining on the other side of my zipper. But, my mind keeps going.
I would thrust into her hot mouth—hard—and I’d fucking love it.
