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Nate didn’t stop there. He cupped my backside, kneading gently to prove that this encounter was going to be heart stopping. I tilted my head back, thrusting my chest forward. I didn’t know why. There was no thought that went into it. I just let my body take over and do what it wanted. My nipples were raw and demanded attention. The dress was uncomfortable; everything felt hot and itchy and I wanted it off as soon as possible.
Nate understood. He slid his hands up my spine to the clasp at the back of my neck. Undoing the zipper, he peeled the fabric from my skin. I felt the blessed relief of cool air against my flesh. The office was an inferno, and I was about to make love to my boss.
He tossed the dress away. I didn’t care where it landed, but thought I saw it draped over the arm of the sofa. I was naked except for my bra, and my ugly birthmark was on display. He went straight for it, kissing my shoulder where it was discolored and red. I felt my heart soar. He didn’t care about the blemish. He was going to kiss all the embarrassment away.
He placed one hand on my hip, grinding his crotch up into mine. With the other hand, he held my upper back, helping himself to my chest. I undid my bra, pulling it off and tossing it aside. He sat, almost fully dressed, his tie tight against his throat. I didn’t have time to divest him of any clothing before he bowed his head and began to feast on my chest.
I moaned, running my fingers through his hair. His tongue was gentle and rough at the same time. He licked across my areola, circling the nipple before sucking it into his mouth. I wiggled deliciously, rubbing my heated skin against his package. He tightened his grip on me in response, to the point that I felt trapped between a rock and a hard place.
I was completely nude. If anyone walked in, our activity would be unmistakable. I had to hope that no one would call or stop by unannounced. I wasn’t ashamed of what we were doing, but I didn’t want to advertise it either.
Also, I desperately wanted to get him out of his clothes. It wasn’t fair that he was still fully dressed. I inched my hands beneath his chin and dug a finger into his tie. He pushed my hands away, but I was insistent. How did he think he was going to make love to me with all that fabric between us?
I tried again, this time successful in loosening his cravat. Sliding the silk out between my fingers, I draped it over the arm of the loveseat. He hardly paused in his pursuit of my honor, nibbling at my chest like a wild animal. I let out a shriek, unable to contain myself.
That got his attention. He reared up out of his seat, releasing my breast and pressing a finger to his lips. I wrapped my fingers around my mouth, my eyes wide in apology. He tipped me over onto the couch, so that my back lay against the cushions and my legs were spread wide around him.
He undid his buttons one by one, pulling his shirt off and tossing it aside. His pants were next, and his underwear followed, revealing his monstrous member. I thought it had been large when I grabbed it earlier that afternoon, but devoid of all clothing, it was truly impressive. I couldn’t wait to feel it enter my body. I would close around it, lapping at its heels, eager to feel all the euphoria it could bring.
He wasn’t done with me yet. Settling down on top of me, he refused to consummate the act. He kissed me on the lips, fisting a hand in my hair to pull my head back. I followed willingly, eager to give him whatever he wanted if only he would finish the job.
He broke the kiss, trailing his tongue down the side of my jaw to my throat. I writhed beneath him, my entire body on fire. He had the hose with which to soothe me, but he held back. I grabbed his shoulders, digging my fingernails into his muscle. It felt just as solid and strong as I had imagined. He gave me a glimpse of his naked form but wouldn’t allow me to fully appreciate it. By holding onto my hair, he forced me to look up at the couch and the ceiling in the distance. I could only feel the weight of his perfect body rubbing against mine.
I wanted to recapture my senses, to be able to look at him as he was clearly looking at me. But every time I tried to move my head, there was a tug on my hair that sent shimmers of discomfort down my spine. So I arched toward him, pressing my chest and my hips up, begging for release.
It worked. He let go, gliding his hand down the side of my body from my breast to my waist. I was able to see him, to drink in the beauty that he represented. His shoulders were solid, so well defined that I thought he must spend all of his off time in the gym. His chest sloped down towards his abdomen, cut like the finest Greek statue. I knew he was fit, but I didn’t know he was perfect.
I traced the line of his collarbone from where it began at his throat to where it disappeared under his shoulder. I was mesmerized, delighted and appreciative, as if it were Christmas morning and I was unwrapping a very expensive gift. He stole my breath when he chose that moment to penetrate me.
I was completely diverted by the sight of him, so wrapped up in my own musings that I didn’t feel him move. One moment we were separate, and the next, he slid so completely inside that I gasped in shock. My legs parted automatically, allowing him to settle deep within. He moved his hand from the base of his rod to my hip, then around to my buttocks to ease himself deeper.
Shuddering, I moaned, knowing that I was supposed to remain silent, but unable to comply. He was everything I thought he might be and more. His width stretched my tunnel, hollowing me out and filling me up at the same time. I circled him with my strength, holding him fast as he began to move.
Up and down he glided, washing me out from within, taking hold of my heart and never letting go. I could vaguely sense the couch around us, the expensive leather cushions acting almost like a second skin beneath me. His motions rocked the boat, making my chest bounce and the furniture squeak.
I dragged my fingernails up his arms, cresting at his biceps and his shoulders, diving down past his upper back to meet at his spine. I wanted all of him, every last inch. I wanted to gorge myself on his flesh, to hit the high note and send all my reservations packing. I needed him to complete me, more than I had ever needed a man in my life.
Everything about him was intoxicating. He was so strong and in control. In the office and in the bedroom, his word was law. Everything fell into place the moment he made his wishes known. He pumped into my core, straining and grinding, taking his pleasure as if he was accustomed to it. I longed to push him over the edge, to see the fireworks explode in his eyes.
It was a project I would gladly take on. I wanted that final bit of pleasure, the knowledge that I was the one who brought him to his knees. That was the last thought that passed through my mind before the orgasm took over.
I wanted him to cum. I wanted to gaze into his eyes and watch the transformation. Instead, I gripped him hard and doubled over, drowning in pure delight. He thundered through his final strokes, beating me into the couch as I floated sweetly in my own mind. A moment later, he, too, seized up, his muscles tensing as he released his final load.
I wrapped my arms around him, drawing him down into my embrace. He was hot and a thin film of sweat greased our bodies. I felt his heart racing, having just completed its ultimate objective. His breath came swift and deep with the practiced tempo of an athlete. We lay there together, him on top, me on bottom, for a few minutes.
When he pulled back, he was grinning, and I saw with relief the person that I wanted to unveil. For the moment, he was without reserve. He was completely in the moment, and happy to be there. Gone was all the people pleasing nonsense and the burning desire to be the best. He was just Nate, innocent and free, proud to have spent an hour pleasuring me.
He climbed off me awkwardly and began to hunt for his clothes. I came up off the couch, hearing the protest of the cushions as I removed my weight. We dressed and sat back down to pull on our shoes. Far from being ashamed of what had just happened, I felt closer to him than ever before. We were partners in this deception, equally culpable and equally in danger of consequences if word ever got out.
“Is there anything else I can do for you before I go?” I teased.
He gave me a sideways look, as if he didn’t appreciate the joke. “I’ll walk you down.”
“Really?” I was surprised. I expected him to stay and work late as he always did. Why should one passionate sexual encounter change everything?
“Really. I’m not going to be able to get any work done anyway.” That last statement was made sardonically, and I couldn’t help but feel disappointed. It looked like we were back to the way things used to be. He was using humor to deflect from true connection. He wasn’t ready to admit that anything meaningful had happened.
I was surprised and delighted when he walked me all the way to my car. I hadn’t been expecting such royal treatment. Although, objectively, he may have figured it was probably the least he could do after taking advantage of me in his office. I didn’t feel that way. Our relationship had nothing to do with our jobs.
