“Why didn’t you just come to me upstairs?”
He looked away again. “I don’t know that answer either.”
“I think you do, Crewe.” My fingers slid underneath his sleeve so I could feel his bare skin. His corded veins were prominent across his forearm. I traced one with my fingertip.
He didn’t give me an answer.
I lowered myself to my knees in front of him, sitting between his knees.
His gaze shifted to me instantly, his jaw hardening.
My hands started at his knees and moved up, pressing over his thighs all the way to his waist. When I creased the fabric of his slacks, I defined the outline of his hard cock as it sat over his left thigh. “Why didn’t you come to me last night?”
He watched my hands. “I was angry.”
“And when have I ever not helped you with your anger?” My hand slid over his hard cock on the way to his fly. I undid his belt and popped the button.
His eyes moved to my face.
“Why didn’t you come to me, Crewe?”
His eyes darkened with arousal. “Because I was afraid Ariel was right.”
I unzipped his fly and pulled the front of his pants down so I could see his black boxers underneath. “Right about what?”
“About my judgment. About my leadership. About you.”
I grabbed his boxers and pulled them down, his nine-inch length coming free. “Why couldn’t you confide this to me?”
“It’s hard for me to let you in.”
“Why?” I pulled his slacks and boxers down to his ankles, letting his cock lie against his stomach and his balls hang over the edge of the chair.
“Because you betrayed me.” His eyes were mixed with both sadness and arousal, two very conflicting emotions.
“I would never betray you again, Crewe. I promise.” I pulled my shirt over my head and unclasped my bra. “No more going out whenever you’re upset. I want you to come to me.”
His eyes moved to my tits.
I grabbed his length and ran my tongue from the base to the tip. When I got to his head, I tasted the arousal that had already begun to seep out. I positioned myself closer to the chair so I could press his dick between my tits. “Okay?”
He moaned quietly as he felt his dick slide through my tits. “Okay.”
I pressed my tits together so there was a smaller gap to slide through. My tits weren’t impressive, but I had enough cushion to make this work. He had a long enough dick that I could straighten my back and be eye level with him. I pressed my mouth against his and gave him a slow kiss as I moved up and down, sliding his dick between my tits.
His mouth trembled against mine slightly before his hand dug into my hair. His tongue moved against mine, and he deepened the kiss until he possessed me. A moan entered my mouth, but I couldn’t tell if it came from him or me. I got more of his tongue than I had before, and I liked feeling it in my mouth. I liked feeling his arousal through him and not just his dick.
“I want to be what we were before I left…” I knew I was asking for the impossible. The kind of trust we had was built on a six-month relationship. Now we had to start over, come back from a tragedy. The only thing keeping us together was the fact that we loved one another, but everything else was working against us.
He kissed me harder then sucked my bottom lip into his mouth. “I do too. But I need more time.”
“Time for what?”
He breathed hard against my mouth as he rubbed through my soft flesh. “It’s hard for me to trust people. You know that.”
“You can trust me.”
He pressed his forehead to mine and squeezed my tits in his strong hands. “I know, Lovely.”
“Then do it.”
He looked into my eyes as he thrust his cock through the valley between my breasts. When he was aroused at this magnitude, he was even more handsome than usual. His jaw was tighter because his mouth was slightly parted. “Alright.” He grabbed the back of my neck and guided my face down to his lap, telling me exactly what he wanted.
I opened my mouth wide and gave it to him.
11
Crewe
Pias entered my office then glanced at the seat where Ariel usually sat. He came with his folder stuffed with supply reports and took a seat, a glass of scotch already sitting there. “I have everything you asked for.”
“Great.” I eyed my own glass and knew I needed to slow things down. When I had cut down on my alcohol intake, I was less moody and much happier. I had more energy, and I didn’t snap so easily. But it was hard to go back to that because the initial stages of quitting were always difficult. Being drunk all the time made me more indifferent—and I liked not giving a damn.