The raging desire in his eyes refused to be contained as he cut her off. He moved away from her as he spoke. “It’s my company. I’m the boss, Baby Girl. I could care less if the employees come in and see me kissing my wife.” Punctuating each my with a sharp slap on her behind, her husband walked away and entered his office.
The slaps on the ass, like the kiss, like the bulging swell of his dick, were all meant to let her know that no matter how much she tried to change the nature of their relationship, he wasn’t having it.
Turning, she watched the retreating back of Miguel Suárez in awe. The man exuded sexiness and power. In the boardroom and in the bedroom, he exhibited dominance and control that most men would give their right arm to possess and most women would give anything to be possessed by.
Most women except me, damn it! She needed to retain her resolve and focus on something besides his tight ass and strong back. All that did was make her remember the way he used that back and behind like a well-oiled piston to bring her to mind-shocking climax after climax after climax.
No, coming back to work and confronting her sexy husband may not have been the brightest idea. It was too late now. She couldn’t let his silky bronzed skin, the glossy black curls on his head, or the piercing onyx gaze of his eyes stop her from doing what needed to be done. So what if the man called to mind a sip of one of her favorite guilty pleasures, a caramel macchiato? Just like the specialty coffee drink, the sweetness of the caramel, vanilla, and milk lulled her into a temporary calmness right before the kick of the espresso and caffeine snapped her ass into overdrive. That was Miguel Suárez in a nutshell and thus her inner turmoil about their relationship. She just didn’t know if she could handle everything that went with taking the entire package—the parts that made her feel safe and warm and loved along with the parts that pushed her to her limits and beyond. Letting out a sigh and taking a deep breath, she readied herself for what was clearly going to be the longest day of her life.
The pressure of a multimillion-dollar company, the motion and excitement that made her join the company a year ago, gave her a small reprieve in dealing with Miguel. But none of the hectic hustle and bustle could halt her heart’s rapid beating or the shockwaves of awareness that trembled through her body when his fine Dominican ass walked into a room.
By the end of the day she wanted to hightail it out of there with the rest of the employees. But she knew that she hadn’t really faced him yet. She had to go into his office and firmly let him know that although their little explorations had been interesting, she was ending their relationship, severing all connections.
Once she was pretty sure that even his secretary had gone for the day, Stacy walked into Miguel’s office for the facedown and hoped to God her visit wouldn’t end with her facedown, ass up and spread across his rich mahogany desk.
Miguel glanced up from the papers on his desk when the door to his office opened. He thanked God that he was at least spared the scene of having to barge into Stacy’s office and demand that she tell him why she left. The truth was he knew why she left. He didn’t condone it and he wasn’t about to let it happen again. But he understood that sometimes the intensity of their relationship scared her more than she let on.
Standing in front of his desk, her red suit jacket open to reveal the soft silky cream blouse she wore underneath, she presented a less formidable picture than she had earlier that morning. But her eyes still held her stubborn, willful challenge. She was going to make this hard.
“I just wanted you to know that I came back today to see if at least the business part of our relationship could be salvaged. And after careful consideration, after the way you behaved this morning, I have come to the conclusion that it would be best for all involved if I resign my position. Effective immediately.” Her hand went to her neck, softly fingering her choker, and then moved behind as if she was about to remove it.
He couldn’t let that happen. That wouldn’t do at all. “And who gave you the authority?”
She faltered slightly. He got up from his desk, blocking any and every move she made. He was behind her in a matter of seconds, boxing her neatly between himself and his desk. He removed her hand from the choker and caressed the hand as he placed both her arms firmly at her sides. He could feel her soft shudders of breath and he smiled.
Pressing his lips to the back of her long, graceful neck, he inhaled and for a minute he envisioned what a drug addict or an alcoholic must feel like after taking that first fall off the wagon and sabotaging their sobriety. The scent of her traveled through his nose and made him want more. He let his tongue trail her neck slowly and seductively, trailing a pattern along the edge of the choker and making her aware of his collar before repeating his question. The way she trembled at his touch let him know she had forgotten that he’d asked her anything at all.
“I said, who gave you the authority, Baby Girl?”
“I—I…what? What do you mean? I gave myself the authority. I don’t need anyone giving me any authority to make a decision about my life, Miguel.” She said his name with force and spun around to face him.
Her alert nipples pushed through the silk blouse as her chest firmly pressed against his own. The defiance in her eyes was breathtaking. All fire and passion, she asserted her control firmly and decisively.
Impressed, but not waylaid, he lifted her blouse from its neat, tucked position in her red skirt and let his hands caress her belly before moving up and squeezing the full taut mounds of flesh encased in lace.
“Well. We both know that’s not true. Don’t we? You have absolutely no authority whatsoever about what is best for all involved. And you certainly have no authority to say how it will play out, much less how, when, or if it will end. We both know that is my domain. Don’t we, Baby Girl?”
She closed her eyes. He could see she was trying to hold back her reaction. Squeezing her breasts tighter, he pressed his lips to hers and enclosed them in a kiss. Her mouth opened to him immediately and for that he allowed a calmer exploration than he had that morning. He took his time probing the depths of her mouth and reclaiming his space. As he let his finger scrape the protruding nipples in her lacy bra, the moans that escaped her lips urged him on even further. He moved down to her
skirt and lifted it enough to give himself access to her stockings, garter belt, and lace thong.
The thong was drenched. Yet another thing to add to her growing list of infractions. Cumming without permission is a nono.
First two, then three of his fingers slid their way into her slick folds and penetrated her in ways the dick straining against his zipper longed to. With her silk shirt bunched up to her neck and her skirt scrunched up around her hips, she looked exactly as he had imagined her many times for the past two months. Burying his head in the lace of her bra, he grasped a nipple in between his teeth and bit down as he finger-fucked her. Nibbling on the nipple as he probed her G-spot, he then pressed his thumb tightly to her clit and felt her burst. Her pussy spasm squeezed his fingers and she rocked rhythmically against him.
He let go of her nipple but kept his fingers in her soft, wet hold. “Did you just cum without permission, Baby Girl?” He tsked in mock annoyance. “Someone has allowed her little hiatus to make her forget all her training. We’ll have to deal with your infractions later. Right now, I have to fuck you, Baby Girl.”
Her eyes widened as he lifted her onto his desk, swiftly pushing everything onto the floor in one sweep. Pulling her hips to the edge of the desk, he wasted no time entering her. He pushed into her hot, slick, wet pussy all the way to the hilt. He was home.
“Ahhhhh!” She threw her head back and cried out as she wrapped her legs around him and pulled him closer to her with her arms. “You see,” she accused. “This is exactly what I was talking about. We shouldn’t have…ahhhhhh…Oh God!”
“Don’t.” He smiled when she fought back the orgasm that threatened to rip through her. Even though he knew she was nowhere near ready to submit fully—to assume her role and ask for permission—the brief exchange of power was not missed.
She took deep, panting breaths and expelled a sharp hiss. “This is wrong, Miguel. We shouldn’t be doing this. We should have had better control over our desires and we never should have given into them. This has to end, now.”
He lifted her off the desk and walked with her still firmly impaled on his dick to the large brown leather sofa in his office. Laying her down, grabbing her arms, lifting them above her head, and holding them in the grasp of his hand, he continued to fuck her as he spoke. Enough was enough. He had given her the time away because he realized that their last scene together had taken them to such an incredible place of pleasure and pain that even he had been caught off guard by the intensity.
He loved her more than words could ever express, but maybe his mother was right and he had married a witch. For only a spell-casting temptress could have caused him to go against every dominant bone in his body and let her leave. It wouldn’t work this time. As far as he was concerned, if she wanted to remain free, she should have stayed gone. Coming back to town and work firmly placed her back where he wanted her all along.