I’ll never be afraid of him.
He drives my need for him higher.
His cock pulses deep inside me, but he’s not in a rush to fuck.
He caresses down my back, tracing to my ass, and I’m shocked as a single finger curves around back, stroking over my anus.
I’ve not been explored there before, and he knows it. He knows everything about my body. He’s the only man to ever get me like this.
Open.
Exposed.
And desperate.
He caresses down my body, skimming the edge of my tits before grasping my hips. Holding onto his shoulders, I follow his lead as he starts to make me rock on his cock. Pushing me up then pulling me down.
I cry, and the sound is swallowed by his lips. I’ve not stopped kissing him. I don’t want to stop.
Chase does this repeatedly, lifting me up, pulling me down. Each time he draws me onto his cock, he thrusts up, and he seems to hit a spot deep within me that is too painful and yet so addictive I can’t think straight.
Breaking from the kiss, I dip my head back, giving him my neck, and he nips at my flesh, sucking on my skin. Pleasure floods my body, and even as he teases my flesh, he doesn’t stop fucking me.
Holding onto his shoulders, I help him, thrusting up and down on his cock.
His lips leave my skin, and I open my eyes to see that he’s watching us.
“See how fucking beautiful you are.”
I stare down between us.
His cock is driving in and out of me.
The condom is not a welcome sight, but I’ve no interest in getting pregnant. Having a baby right now wouldn’t help my life.
Instead, I moan, driving down on him, feeling a tightening deep within me as he fucks me.
“That’s it, sweetheart, fuck me. Take your pleasure. Ride my cock. Show me what a dirty girl you are. You’re not a virgin anymore, Faye. That belongs to me. Your cherry is all mine.”
Pressing my face against his shoulder, I ride his cock to completion, feeling him pulse as he fills the condom with his cum. We’re both panting.
I don’t know how long we sit there, but I can’t feel my legs.
Chase grips the back of my head and uses my hair to lift my face up. He’s not rough with me. As I stare into his eyes,, he cups my face and then kisses me. At first, the kiss is so hard that it hurts my teeth, but I can’t say no. I don’t want to say no.
Slowly though, time stills as he kisses me. This kiss could destroy me.
It’s tender.
Sweet.
Romantic.
And I’m hungry for more.
I want the sweet and rough.
The nice and dirty.
I want it all, and I know all I have to do is ask Chase, and he’ll give it to me. What’s even more scary, I’ll gladly give him anything.
****
Chase wouldn’t take me home, nor would he allow me to walk. It is late. We left his office after eight, and now it’s close to nine-thirty. Kerry sent me a message while I was being fucked in my boss’s office to let me know she was okay.
No matter what I do, I seem to be screwing up with her.
Some days are a lot easier than others, but again, I failed. She won’t open up to me.
“Wine?” Chase asks.
Turning toward him, I see he’s holding two glasses and a bottle.
“Erm, I don’t … drink.”
“One glass won’t hurt. You need to relax.”
I take the drink he poured but don’t drink it. I’m not a wine or alcohol drinker and never will be. He takes the glass and tips it back.
I watch him swallow.
“I’ll get you a water.”
Rubbing my hands down my skirt, I follow him. He leans into his fridge, pulling out a bottled water. My nerves are starting to get the better of me.
He turns and hands me the bottle. Uncapping it, I sip the water. I’m not from a very wealthy area. My mom was a waitress, and my stepfather worked in construction. They only ever had enough to get by.
Chase is a rich man. A millionaire if not a billionaire. His cars speak of his wealth, and so does his penthouse apartment.
It’s strange, but up until this moment I didn’t think about how much he was worth. Seeing it like this, knowing what he paid for me, I can’t help but feel a little uncomfortable. This is … strange.
Biting my lip, I turn away.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” he asks.
Running fingers through my short hair, I shrug. “Nothing.” I need to lie.
“You think I can’t read you.”
“You don’t know me.”
“I know you better than you think. What’s wrong?” He grips my shoulder pulling me back against him. “Now tell me what’s wrong.”
Telling him would make this even more real.
“I … I’m not comfortable.”