my one ni-ght bo-ss ??
Chapter 8
The blindfold if pulled off and the light streams into my eyes, blinding. The sun is setting over the city and the office is fiery. Charles is standing in front of me, and I take the moment to look at him. I trace the lines from his collarbones down across his che-st throu-ghthe valley of his abs and arrive at his very ere-ctco-ck. He’s holding the scarf that was the blindfold, and he’s looking at me oddly. Almost expectantly. “Give me your hands please, Alyssa.”
My stomach drops. “I’m not sure I’m ready for that, Sir.”
“I know it’s a step. Your hands will be in front of you, and I’m not going to make it so you can’t escape if you nee-d to,” he flashes me that wicked grin, “This time. Do you trust me enough to try it?”
I take a breath easier. Yes, I can try it. I can get free. “Yes.”
I hold out my hands, and he takes a step closer while winding the blue fabric around my wrists. “If this is too much for you, there is rule three.”
I look up at him, and I can tell he’s telling the truth: he will stop if I ask him too. The feeling settles in my gut. I don’t want him to stop. “No.” I say. The scarf is knotted so loosely around my hands, it’s practically a joke. “And this I can handle.”
He grins as he sheathes himself in a condom, then he takes my hands and places them around his ne-ck. The scarf ti-ghtens, and now my hands are locked to his shoulders. “How about now?” He asks. He doesn’t give me a chance to respond, pushing my legs opening and sli-pping inside me.
I’m so sen-sitive, I can’t help the mo-an that comes out. He lifts my legs up and I wrap them around his wa-ist so I’m completely tangled in him. The edge of the desk is digging into my @$$ and I don’t care. “This time I don’t want you to close your eyes.” “Can I blink?” The words are out before I can stop them, and he laughs. The vibr@tions moving throu-ghme everywhere we’re touching. Everywhere. “Yes, you can blink.”
“Good.”
He kizzes me and I keep them open, locking eyes with him and daring him to be the one to blink first. He starts to move inside me, rocking me back into the desk. Each movements sets sparks off across my already sensitized body. He Gr0-ns into my mouth, and his pace quickens. It isn’t gentle, it’s fierce. He stops kizzing my mouth and moves to my ne-ck, su-cking on my skin as he plunges into me.
I didn’t think that I could reach a third Orgasm, but I feel it on the horizon. Charles puts his hands un-der my @$$ and lifts, and suddenly I’m in the air. Our faces are level and he’s holding me and fu-cking me and I let my head drop back in the sudden wave of helplessness and desi-re.
He turns and presses me against the window, fingers digging into my legs as he holds me exactly where he wants me and doesn’t let me go. He doesn’t slow as he slams into me, every stro-ke drawing my Orgasm closer. I can feel the emptiness of the air behind the gl@$$ and I don’t care that the window is shaking with every thr-ust.
I’m so close, again, and he’s close. He’s staring at me and I’m staring at him, and I see the moment it hits him. His mouth is rou-ghon top of mine and I go over with his final thr-ust. Everything explodes, and I’m not sure if my eyes are open anymore. Sheer plea-sure sings throu-ghmy body, and I’m shuddering on his co-ck still inside me. Another burst of plea-sure rushes throu-ghme at the knowledge that I had nothing to do with this. Charles took what he wanted from me, and I gave it to him. The sharpness of my Orgasm fades to a soft glow, and suddenly I’m so tired. Outside the window, the sun sli-ps below the horizon.
Charles
Holy shit.
I don’t think I can move.
Alyssa’s eyes are still open and glazed over with the aftermath of three Orgasms. Slowly, I take her weight from the window, and carry her to the couch. I’m still inside her, so I’m gentle as I lay down and remove myself. I take her arms from around my ne-ck and untie the scarf from her wrists. She’s still dazed but smiling, and I take a moment to clean myself up.
I kneel by the couch, leaning down to kizz her. It’s softer, more inti-mate. “How do you feel?” I ask softly. Somehow it seems wrong to speak loudly in this atmosphere.
She reaches out and traces lines on my che-st. “I feel good. Sleepy.” I run my fingers down her side, unable to keep myself from touching her. “Thank you for trusting me.”
“I do trust you.” She says absently. Then she looks at me. “I do trust you.” She says again, the words stronger.
Something de-ep in my che-st eases. “Will you do one last thing for me tonight?”
“Is that a command?”
“A request.”
She rolls towards me, “What is it?”
“Let me take you home. I don’t want to be the guy that has se-x with you in his office and sends you off in a cab.”
“I’d like that.” She says, and she pulls my head down to kizz me. I let her. After all, she’s more than earned it.
“Okay.” I throw my clothes on quickly, but she takes her time, moving slowly like she’s still in the midst of her afterglow. I’d be lying if I didn’t say that made the male monster inside me more than a bit smug. I take the time to help her, clasping her br@ and bu-ttoning her shirt—a kizz taken for every bu-tton closed. Until we’re just kizzing. Her kizzes are long and slow, and I’m a little in love with the softness of her mouth.
“Let’s go,” I say, “before a janitor catches me taking you again.”
“It’s Friday night.” She’s laughing, “No janitors.”
I give her a pointed look up and down. “We can stay if you like.”
“If it’s all the same to you,” She says, taking my hand, “I’d rather not spend all of the night in your office.”
“Fair enough.”
We find a cab together, and I never let go of her hand. Once inside the cab I pull her against me and wrap my arms around her. Her head fits against my che-st in a way that makes me ache. She leans against me in comfortable silence as we cross the river. Her apa-rtment building is in a nice neighborhood in queens. I pay the driver and step out behind Alyssa. She seems surprised. “You didn’t think I was going to see you into the house?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Fine.” I nod, “I’ll do you one better.” Leaning down, I sweep her feet out from un-der her and start to carry her towards the door.
“Charles what are you doing?”
I try to control my grin, “I’m quite literally taking you home.”
She’s shaking her head, even as she’s instinctively looped her arm around my ne-ck and curled into me. We awkwardly maneuver the doorways; I carry her up the stairs despite her protests. I’m enjoying the feeling of her in my arms, and don’t pa-rticularly want to put her down.
She reaches out and unlocks her door. I push it open with my foot and we make it throu-ghwithout me Ban-ging her head—small miracles. Her apa-rtment is clean and nicely decorated, it’s also easy to tell where the bedroom is. I head straight there, laying her down across it. I sit next to her, and she’s beaming up at me. “You really didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to.” She catches my hand and our fingers tangle together in the silence.
“Will you stay?” She asks.
My se-x drive leaps at the thought of all the things we could do together with a whole night and a real bed. Soon. “Not tonight.” I say, even though it kills me. “You’re tired, and we both know what will happen.”
She sm-irks at me, “Like it’s a bad thing?”
“Never a bad thing,” I lean down and press a kizz to her stomach. “But I want more than just se-x from you. You know that, right?” She looks at our hands, “Do things like this really happen?”
“I guess so,” I say, standing. “I’m going to think of somewhere we can go to start your New York bucket list.”
She follows me to the door. “I look forward to it. It’s really too bad you’re not staying. I’ll certainly be thinking about you.”
The look in her eyes says she’s going to be doing more than just thinking. Two can pla-y at this game. I grip the back of her ne-ck firmly and tilt her face back to look at me. “You can touch yourself as much as you want, but from now until Monday you are not allowed to Orgasm without my permission.” I feel her pulse speed up un-der my thumb and her pupils dilate. “Or, if you choose to ignore that, you can find out how much I would enjoy punishing you.”
I take a kizz, for-ceful and de-ep. I want to be imprinted on every pa-rt of her consciousness tonight. “Do you un-derstand?” I ask.
“Yes, Sir.”
I kizz her on the forehead. “I’ll see you soon.”
***
By Sunday afternoon, I’m going crazy. I have to see her.
I’ve had my phone in my hand to call her all day today, and I haven’t been able to do it. Calling her on the phone makes me feel like I’m in high school. I don’t want to sit in my apa-rtment and talk with her on the phone. I want to see her.
I want to touch her and kizz her and talk with her while I’m wrapped around her and inside her. I want to tell her exactly where to touch me and look her in the eye while she gets me off. I want to keep my earlier promise to taste her everywhere, and order her to name each pa-rt of her body as I do so I can see her flush. I want to feel her squirming while trying to keep my command to keep still. Yeah, that settles it. I grab my jacket and keys and head for the door.
I’m pit in my stomach the entire ride over. Even though I feel like we’re on the same page, I’m still nervous. This is all so new. Anything could go wrong. This is a thri-ll for her—exciting and new—what if she suddenly realizes that being un-der someone’s isn’t what she wants after all? This is what I want. I know that’s not going to change. But for her the novelty could wear off. At best, it ends. At worst I’m painted as…well, hopefully it won’t be the worst. I’ve already lived that. I for-ce my lungs to breathe throu-ghthat gnawing fear and try to focus on the moment. Right now, everything is perfect.
Her apa-rtment building looks different in the daylight, smaller and having more character. Her street is lined with trees, and there are a couple kids riding bikes down the sidewalk. I’ve lived in Manhattan for years, but I think I could learn to like Queens. My first impression of it is that it seems homey.
I pay the driver, and lucky for me someone is coming out of her building. I catch the door and head inside, jogging up to the second floor. There’s no doorbell in here so I knock. Okay, maybe I knock a little to ha-rd. Accident, I swear.
I hear the bolt unlatching and my heart leaps. Alyssa opens the door and it’s clear I’m not who she expected. “Charles.”
“I’m sorry, I know I should have called. I just had to see you.” I lean forward and kizz her. I feel her start to kizz me back before she stops and pulls away. “I’m really happy to see you, but now isn’t a good time.”
My stomach ti-ghtens, “Why, what’s wrong?”
A woman’s voice calls from dee-per in the apa-rtment. “Alyssa, who’s at the door?”
TBC