There’s something about the suit that drives me crazy.
It’s the power.
It’s the – the what? – the prestige.
It’s the symbolism of knowing that this man is more powerful and influential and more of a protector than every stupid, silly boy in high school combined. All those jocks who think they are God’s gift to women, they’d shiver like cowards standing in a meeting in front of my seven foot giant bear of a man, dressed in the armor of his suit.
He makes another rumbling noise, a volcano on the verge of a cataclysmic explosion.
Then he says, “Get out here, then. Now. I need to see you naked.”
I walk out from behind the door and then close it, standing under the stark yellow light and staring at my man, at the iron in his hair and the fire in his dark brown eyes.
His cock is so huge it strains the zipper, the teeth trying to snap free as he strokes it up and down, the only part of him revealed.
Everything else is kick-ass, take-names, try-me-motherfucker suited steel.
“Go and lie on the table there,” he growls, nodding at the sleek metal table, free of chopping boards and tools at the moment.
Empty.
Large.
Large enough for … for everything we want – need – to do.
“You know that’s sacrilege for an aspiring chef, right?”
He smirks, squeezing his manhood harder, an appetizing drop of precome sliding free and falling to the floor like warm rain.
“It wasn’t a question,” he snarls.
A sultry trembling sensation moves through me at the tone of his voice, my eyes fixated on his searing eyes and then the bulk of his cock.
I do as he says, sitting on the table and then lying back, the cool metal pricking my skin.
“Now open your legs and look at me between them.”
I place my feet on the edge of the table, wincing at the position, but the look Artem gives me makes it worth it. He stalks closer, his eyes fixated on my hole, his lips trembling as he drinks in the sight of me.
“Now stay there,” he says, abruptly turning away.
He goes to the refrigerator, opens it, and then reaches inside. When he reappears, he’s holding a can of whipped cream and has a devilish smirk on his face.
“You’ve got to be kidding me—”
Moving with the speed of a viper, he squirts the cream all over me, from my neck down to my sex, over my thighs, dripping down and coating me and already starting to melt against the lust-hot surface of my skin.
“This is what I want,” he snarls, leaning forward. “I want to taste you. Every fucking part of you. I want to clean you with my tongue.”
I gasp as he makes good on his promise, any thoughts of laughter forgotten. His lips suck at my neck and then move down my body, smearing the cream over my breasts as he pushes them together, one hand still stroking his cock, pumping madly now, a tight fist around the engorged mass of it.
He works his way down to my thighs and licks me from my soaked pussy to my knees and back again, and then, with the cream smeared and layered lightly over me, he steps back, fist pumping, faster, harder.
“Now,” he growls, clearly struggling to get the words out. “Now, Anna, I want you to do something for me. I want you to cream and orgasm the second I shove my cock inside of you. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I moan, hoping I can do it, my hole tingling in anticipation.
“Rub your clit,” he commands. “Get yourself ready for me.”
“Yes, sir,” I whisper.
“Sir,” he snarls. “I fucking like the sound of that.”
I reach down and touch my clit—
But then Artem loses control.
He pushes forward and, in one fluid motion, he slides his cock deep inside of me.
He pushes right up to his zipper, my suited giant staring down at me, his jaws tight, his eyes widening as he holds himself deep inside of me.
And then, unbelievably, I feel my pussy starting to flutter and open and close, and a swirling mass of pleasure whirls around my belly and then – and then …
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
He doesn’t move.
He doesn’t thrust.
And yet somehow just having him buried zipper-deep inside of me and staring up at him, at my handsome, devastating man in his sleek steel suit, it causes an overflowing tempest of lust to gush out of me, a creaming orgasm that whips down his cock and squirts all over his balls.
We both stare down as the cream starts to gush over the surface and drip over the edge.
Then he leans down and brings his lips to mine. We drink each other in as though we’ll die of thirst without each other’s taste. I feel him wilting inside of me as the last moments of my orgasm pulse out of me.