Bossy Valentine: A Steamy Older Man Office Romance Page 4

  “I need you like a man needs a woman, I need to own you completely. I need to taste you on my lips.”

  She draws a sharp breath that makes her splendid tits heave. It takes an enormous effort not to rip every button on her shirt and see those gorgeous mounds fall free.

  With my hand still holding her pinned, immovable at the back of her neck, the other hand reaches around to cup her ass. She lets out a little gasp of surprise but offers no resistance to me squeezing the deletable flesh I can't wait to have bare and burning under my palm.

  Fuck, she feels good.

  Just filling my hands with her curves has my balls tight and my cock straining in my pants. I slip my hand down and under the fabric and palm her tender buttock, squeezing and mounding the naked cheek. Then pull her closer so her hips crash against my pelvis, her little pink slit grazing against the rough wool of my pants and the rougher wood smashing up against the zipper.

  My fingers grind her ass cheek harder, the tips perilously close to her crack. As I squeeze, the chasm opens and her juice runs down her thigh and over my hand. So fucking delicious.

  My balls are heaving tighter with the need to plunge my dick into her heated tunnel, but I hold back. I need her to surrender her entire being to me before I give her mine. I can't even begin to describe all the things I want to do to this unbelievable body. How I want to take it and make it mine.

  Only mine. No other fucker will ever touch her or even look at her. Ever again.

  Her breath is falling fast across my lip as she pants out breaths of need. Her tits go up and down inviting me to crush them in my palms. I open my mouth and tug her lip into mine, lightly. At first. My hand unlooses its tight grasp on her ass and slides around the curve of her hip.

  I press myself between her thighs, less than an inch from her sweet heat. She shudders and swallows down her anticipation. Then I stroke on finger along the length of her bulging slit and she comes undone.

  Chapter NINE

  Mabel

  When my boss swipes a finger across my agonized clit, I grab at his shoulders, so broad and powerful beneath the exquisite smooth cotton fabric of his shirt. So fine, I almost feel his skin, the undulation of his muscle right under my fingers.

  The air has flown from the room making me haul at every breath as I shudder beneath his agile fingers swirling circles around the point he's avoiding and that I'm desperate for him to touch.

  “Please,” I push out.

  His fingers grip the back of my neck and dagger into my hair, as though he's about to use it as a rope to drag me into his lair. He does tug me, but closer to the solid bulge in his pants. So the swell at my pubis rubs against the hot and hard pulsation, causing me to quake even more.

  Suddenly Mr Eglinton spins us around so I'm shoved up against the desk, now caged in by his solid bulk. White shards like far-off lightning, pass through my thighs and I pull him against me, clawing at his shirt enough to rip tears in the fine material.

  “Heels on the desk,” he orders and I gasp with stunned surprise.

  I cannot ignore the flexing of his jaw, informing me I'd better not even think about refusing him.

  But I have to. I ought to. This is insane but I'm driven by some inner force telling me to do exactly as he wants.

  “I need to see you open and vulnerable to me,” he grits out. “I need to see your perfect pussy all pink and wet, throbbing with need for my cock shoving inside you.”

  Oh my god. No one has ever spoken to me with such filthy words, let alone my boss and I feel a gush of liquid flood out of me, making me even wetter.

  I want to say no. I have to refuse. But I can't.

  I lift one leg until my heel reaches the edge. I have to leave go of Darcy and reach my palms behind, leaning back enough to allow the space for the extra four inches of my shoe. My boss travels his gaze down the inside of my thigh toward my stretched slit.

  “The other one as well,” he rasps.

  His eyes are hooded with ravenous lust as he looks at my parted pussy lips. At last he's beginning to lose his self control, although nowhere near as much as I am. I'm naked and exposed to him, stretched across his desk while he's fully clothed and gazing on my bare pussy mouth. Or will be if I lift the other foot.

  I falter then, considering the possibility of unhooking the shoes to remove them. It's a strain with the extra height of the heels. I have to lean back and expose more of my most private area. My eyes fly to his, begging for help in taking off the shoes. But I find him rigid in his command that I open up. He clearly wants me spread as wide open as possible for him, laid out on his desk for him to drink up like one of his artworks on a gallery pedestal.

  Very slowly, I lean a little further back and do as he says. The grunt he lets out as my pink crevasse unfolds is one of pure animalistic desire. Raw, almost feral. The extent of his appreciation imparts a blast of confidence and I lean further and open my thighs to the fullest extent.

  The combination of humiliation and power is intoxicating. My pussy is glistening with readiness for his dick burying inside me.

  “You are so fucking hot and sexy, Miss Trellis. I'm going to fuck you so hard you'll be limping on both legs and will have a lot of explaining to do to the doctor. But not yet.”

  I let out a moan of frustration. I don’t want to wait a second more. He left me dripping last night and I've endured agonies of need for relief ever since.

  He steps in close and presses a finger against my mouth to quiet my objections. The musky sweet scent of my own sex fills my nostrils. Like a naughty little slut I open my mouth and suck his finger inside like I'm starving. His hand threads into my hair to grip the back of my head while I clasp his thick forearm to hold him in my mouth.

  When he slips his finger out of me, he travels down to clamp a hand around my inner thigh. His palm runs up the length, and he cannot fail to feel how I tremble under his touch. He holds my gaze hypnotized as he slides into my slick folds and I repress a shriek and clutch at his bicep. Noting even as I lose my mind how huge and hard it is.

  With one hand still supporting my weight, I drag and claw him closer right as he thrusts his finger into my tight hole. My eyes squeeze tight as I throw back my head against the exquisite agony of him stretching my tunnel and shoving another finger into me.

  “Look at me,” he demands, as usual.

  I open my eyes and gasp at breath as he pounds into my hole, his thumb strumming against my prodding little triangle. I'm about to lose it already, so tense from last night, eager for release and his expert caress.

  “Darcy,” I moan.

  “Sir,” he corrects me.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Come for me Ma Belle Mabel.”

  The rush of sensation is overwhelming as it moves up from my toes to gather in my pussy.

  “I'm going to -”

  The sharp rap on the door sends the climax flying straight back to my feet. I leap back as Darcy smoothly extracts his fingers from my hole.

  “Darce, you in there?”

  I recognize the owner of the voice, Simon Salmon, his partner. Oh shit.

  Darcy's eyes catch mine and the glint is infectious. He grins his enigmatic smile as he laps his fingers, licking off the taste of me.

  As he walks across to the door, he slides my underwear into the pocket of his pants.

  “Come on in, Man,” he tells Simon, like we were just taking an innocent letter or something.

  I managed to get my skirt smoothed down before he opened the door but I have no underwear on and my thighs are soaked and sticky as I stand up straight from my sprawl across Mr Eglinton's desk.

  Even though he had two fingers buried up to the knuckle inside my pussy, I still have a hard time referring to him as Darcy all the time. And I wonder whether Simon can detect the sexual tension in the room, or the aroma.

  He says nothing however and doesn’t even give me the side eye.

  “That'll be all for now, Mabel. Bring us coffee would you.”

/>   “Of course,” I say, all business as usual if you don't count the squeak in my voice.

  I cover it with a light cough as though clearing my throat and head for the door to leave the room.

  “Oh Mabel, I have my four o’clock so I need you to finish the Willerby contract before you leave. It'll need my signature before it goes out overnight.”

  “Yes of course, Sir.”

  As I pull the door shut on them, the feeling of air on the slickness between my inner thighs has me shuddering and tingling through every cell of my wobbly body.

  Chapter TEN

  Darcy

  I'm glad to get out of my office and away from Mabel the rest of the day. The woman is driving me into a state of delirium like I've never known. Her body makes my blood surge in my veins like a flooding river. I want every part of her. All at once. I want her in my hands, in my mouth and impaled on my dick with her exquisite tits bouncing in front of me.

  craving to slam into her tight pussy, while it twitched around my thrust, tugging me deeper in as her succulent nectar flowed down my fingers was more than I could stand. I was on the point of throwing her back across the desk, having her spreadeagled at all four corners while I slammed into her like a jackhammer.

  “Get down you bastard.”

  Just thinking of her glistening pink pussy turns the fucker into full on battering ram.

  The Willerby meeting doesn't go well. More than once, Anton Willerby asks whether I'm with him.

  “You seem like you're off with the fairies, old boy.” he utters in his peculiar clipped accent that I'm told comes from an education at an expensive school. I wouldn't know.

  “Considering my options,” I tell him.

  I leave go of Mabel's underwear still tucked in my pants pocket and steeple my fingers so he thinks I'm focused on the deal. I can do this deal with my eyes closed and my brain elsewhere. But it's easier without the distraction of images of Mabel arising from her panties in my pocket.

  I'm going to have to work harder, when the only thing filling every corner of my mind is Mabel's decadent curves. Only yesterday I was wondering how I'd never noticed her barely hidden sexy allure before now but now I know I've always harbored a desire for Mabel. I just didn't deserve her.

  I can buy whatever I want except a woman's genuine affection. And Mabel would never want a man like me, not for keeps. I would never have dreamed her body would respond to my dominance with such eager pleasure. She's always kept pace with professional efficiency and been her own woman. I spend the afternoon considering the change in Mabel from my organized secretary who has everything under control, into a pliant, willing sex toy.

  “I need that contract signed tonight,” I bark into my cell as soon as I exit the meeting. I can't ignore how desperate I am to call Mabel and hear her kitten voice in my ear.

  “I know, Sir,” she purrs. “I'm nearly done and I'll messenger it over to you.”

  “No,” I bark. “It's highly confidential. You need to bring it in person. I'll be at home.”

  “At home, Sir?” she questions.

  Every cell in my body prickles.

  “Yes. You do remember the address?”

  “Of course. Yes, Sir. I'll be there in an hour.”

  I can easily picture her bewilderment. Wondering why I want her in my penthouse, my bedroom. What I plan to do to her and what will happen next.

  It keeps me grinning all the way home. But the best image is of her battling through rush hour crowds without her underwear on.

  “I'm expecting my secretary to show up.” I speak into the phone that connects me direct to the front desk of my building. “When she arrives, send her to the garage.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Before heading down, I toss my jacket and tie but don't bother with a change of shirt. Mabel needs to see me in my customary disguise as her boss. I've been working for a while when the ding of the elevator interrupts me from the reverie of manual labor. She steps out and stops right on the other side of the door, her mouth a perfect circle of surprise.

  “I'm sorry I'm late, Sir,” she gasps in her breathy tone rather than her competent secretary tone, which makes me glad that she's rendered nearly speechless.

  She clearly didn't expect to find me up to my elbows in grease beneath the hood of a car.

  “What happened?”

  “I -er.”

  I can see she's considering a fabrication and my jaw hardens. I want her real. Completely real with me at all times.

  “It was Sam, Sir.”

  “The boyfriend?” The name almost blows a fuse in my brain.

  “My ex, Sir.”

  “If he's ex, why does he make you late for me?”

  I cannot fathom why I'm acting like a possessive douche over Mabel but the idea she could slip away is intolerable. It gives me a jolt of adrenalin to hear he's exed out of the picture. She belongs to me now.

  “He, it's nothing. It's over. He treated me badly in Mexico. Cheated on me, if that's not TMI. If it is, I'm sorry.”

  “There can never be too much information when it comes to you. I want to know everything about you.”

  Her eyelids flutter in concert with the slight blush on her cheeks that makes her even more beautiful. Good enough to ravage right here.

  “You're full of surprises, Sir. Would you like me to call a mechanic for the Onyx?”

  “I'm a mechanic.”

  Her eyes fill with doubt, then humor.

  “You find that funny?”

  “No, just – unexpected.”

  “Because I wear a suit, I have to keep my fingernails manicured?”

  “That would likely fit the profile,” she quips.

  I love her sass. It will be all the more sweet when I punish her for it.

  “My father was a mechanic.”

  “He owned a garage?”

  “He never owned a fucking pot to piss in,” I snarl, forcing the image of the old man and his belt from my head. “He was a mechanic and he taught me how to be one. Telling me I'd never be any better than him. I still like to take care of my babies myself. Stress relief.”

  The look I give her has her cheeks pinkening up again and I'm driven with the urge to see her round ass globes with the same perfect shade. The thought of the ex hanging around her for the second time in as many days still has my blood boiling. How could he treat an angel like Mabel with disrespect?

  “If you were mine I would never take you to some tacky tourist resort.”

  “I doubt I'd catch you banging the masseuse either. Sorry, too much info again.”

  She hangs her head and in that moment I'd like to wipe away the humiliation for her. If I cross paths with that fucker again, he'll be on the floor from the face fisting I'll give him for hurting her.

  “You deserve to relax at a beautiful villa like the private island Marlon Brando owned.”

  “Ohmigod can you imagine how out of place I'd look somewhere like that? I'm not one of those supermodel types.”

  Her eyes scour my face, seeking a flicker of response. Sure that along with my polished fingernails, I'm a cliché when it comes to dating.

  “I'm not that fancy,” she adds. “I'd be just as happy with a shack on the beach at Montauk.”

  “With a greasy car mechanic?”

  “I love a man who works with his hands and knows how to fix things.”

  She's still too far away, keeping her distance in case I grab her with my filthy hands and devour her the way I want to right now. But her chest is rising and falling hard, even beneath her winter coat, so I know she's starting to unravel into lust. And the knowledge that she's standing in my garage without her underwear which is still in my pocket has me ready to explode at every seam. I can barely contain the need to possess her finally.

  Chapter ELEVEN

  Mabel

  I just spilled my dirty laundry to my boss and also know more about him personally now, than I ever have. It feels weird to be having this kind of casual conversation
with Darcy, but also really natural. Like I could talk to him about anything and he'd hear me clearly.

  Just being this close to him, alone, has me wetter than ever. My thighs are soaked without the panties he kept. My boss looks seriously hot with his sleeves rolled up. Displaying a pair of thick solid forearms all smeared with black grease. It's a whole side of him that has me lusting big time.

  But the fact that he's in the parking garage means he doesn't want me in his apartment. He knew I was coming by, so if he wanted me as much as he claims, surely he wouldn’t be working on his car.

  “I have the contract here.” I mutter, suddenly feeling awkward and flushed.

  He looks down at this hands then slips one into his pocket to retrieve my panties that are still there. He wipes off his fingers on my underwear, leaving me flabbergasted. Now I'll have to get on the subway butt naked when I leave here.

  He stretches out a hand for the file folder I'm holding. I have to move toward him.

  Closer.

  Close enough to hand him the work. As I take a step, my knees threaten to give way. Exactly how can it be so stifling hot in an underground parking garage in the middle of winter?

  Christ, get it together, Mabel. He's just a man.

  His hand remains extended, his eyes blazing into mine as I move toward him like a shuttle pod pulled into space base (oops, too many sci-fi movies with Wen.)

  “Those underwear were expensive,” I say, as I come close enough to feel the heat emanating from his body.

  “I'll buy you more,” he gruffs.

  One more step and his fingers stab into my hair to cup my head. Holding me firm in his grip, his mouth crashes down on mine. The file slips out of my hand and the papers concertina across the ground but Darcy doesn’t stop or even notice. His tongue moves expertly around my mouth, probing, licking, pulling me in ever closer. His free hand undoes my coat buttons and he pushes it back over my shoulders to drop to the floor.