Chapter 13
Hazel
I checkthe time on my phone while holding the coffee cup with the other. I try to catch my breath. Running to the coffee place was quicker and easier. Coming back while holding a coffee cup was a bit more challenging.
A strange energy bounced between us earlier, and I couldn”t hide it like I thought I”d be able to. I bet he noticed, too. I could see the frustration on his face when I called him Mr. Cromwell. Why is he sad? That”s what he told me before, right? That Saturday. I”d call him Archer that day only.
I”ve been gone six minutes and forty-one seconds. If I sprint, I can make it on time, I tell myself as I walk back into his office. However, I don’t want to make it. Besides, what will he do if I don”t make it within seven minutes? Slap me on my wrist? Yell? Fire me? I know he won”t fire me. Emma already told me about how frazzled he was during my absence.
But a boldness that”s not natural to me wants to know.
I slow down enough to ensure I don’t make it on time, then walk into his office. Silently, I place the coffee cup on his desk in front of him.
”Close the door,” he says assertively.
His voice has an edge that sends thrills to my core. My pussy throbs with anticipation. I do as he says, my fingers trembling despite my effort to play it cool.
”You”re one second late.” He waves his phone, then puts it on his desk.
”I told you seven minutes wasn”t enough.” I walk up to him but don”t sit like I usually do.
He tilts his head to the side, thinking. ”It”s not one minute, or two or three… you”re exactly one second late. Do you know what that means?”
I swallow, then glance at the coffee cup, still untouched on his desk. I clear my throat. ”That means you could have added an extra pep to your step. You chose not to. You wanted to get in trouble with me. Didn”t you?”
I lift my chin. ”What if I did?”
A small devilish smile curves his lips, and I know I shouldn”t have asked. I”ve been challenging him, and now it”s time to pay. What is he asking? My heart flips in my chest.
He grabs the cup I brought him and, without even sipping, puts it on one of the shelves across from him. What is he doing? Then, he walks toward me, and my defenses drop lower and lower with each step.
My nipples harden against my bra, and now I realize wearing a white blouse wasn”t the best call. I bet if he looks down, he can see how aroused I am.
”What if you did?” he repeats, dipping his head.
I tip-toe, stretching to my full height to be closer to his lips. I look down and see his cock bulging in his pants, and my panties get wetter than ever before.
”What if you messed up on purpose? Like all those times you conveniently made a mistake on my dates.”
”Mr. Cromwell.”
”Mr. Cromwell, what? You have been bad. Reprehensible.”
”I swear?—”
”There you go, being bad again. Lying. Dirty girl.”
He turns me so I face his desk. He closes the distance between us, my back to his front, and I lose the battle, melting against him like an overindulged cat. I have no pride. No self-preservation. Right now, none of that matters.
”I wonder how long you”ve been wanting to be dirty for me. When I saw your ass in that dress, I almost fell over,” he whispers in my ear.
He touches my ass, and I undulate my hips, pushing them against his palms. He reaches to my waistline and unzips my pants, then pulls them down until all I”m wearing on my lower half is the G-string that showcases my assets.
”Damn.” He swats my ass, and a zing of hot awareness surges through me, warming my exposed flesh.
I moan.
I feel lightheaded, and I”m glad he”s behind me, or I”d be the one falling over. He cups my ass, caressing the cheeks, then swats it again. A warm ache flares through my skin.
”Fuck, Hazel. You”re so sexy. Where have you been all this time?”
Right under your nose. The words come to me, but I can”t voice them.
He continues to knead my ass with one hand and slips the other under my blouse, hiking it up to reveal my bra. Without taking it off, he dips inside my left breast. Another moan leaves my mouth the moment he touches it, catching my nipple between his thumb and index finger.
I hiss, trying hard to keep it together. He slides his other hand from my ass to my front, and without even peeling off my G-string, he dips three digits inside my pussy. I moan loudly, taken aback.
He shushes me. ”Shhh… Let me give you what you need.”
Heat liquifies my bones, and I buckle against him, so eager to tease him the way he”s teasing me. But he doesn”t get distracted, even though I feel his cock through his pants, rubbing against me. He doesn”t let up and drives his digits in and out of me relentlessly, each time hitting a deeper part of me.
”Oh. Fuck. Oh.”
”That”s right, dirty girl. You”re so wet and ready for me. I can smell your delicious scent from a mile away.”
I chew my lower lip, fully aware that I need to focus if I don”t want my moans to travel through the walls and several floors of this building. The fire in my blood threatens to burn me up, and keeping it inside is challenging.
He slams his fingers inside me, and my body contracts for a moment. It pulses like never before, my sex throbbing, shocks of pleasure surging through me. I come hard, limbs shaky, vision dotted. I lean on the desk for support, quivering, and grasp the edges.
I”m still reeling from the orgasm when I hear him unzipping his pants. The sound of his expensive belt thumping on the rug re-energizes me. He puts his hand on my back, pressing my upper body onto the desk, head to the side.
“Mr. Cromwell.” My heart leaps to my throat, and I part my thighs, anticipating his arrival.
“Mr. Cromwell is about to fill you up with his cum. You wanted to play with me. That’s what you get.”
The moment the thick head of his cock touches my entrance, a shiver of awareness runs through me, and I quiver. He eases inside me, and the air around us shifts, charged with tension, with unspoken words. I suck in my breath, eager to take every inch of his cock, but taken aback by his solid thickness, the way he fills my most intimate spot like he belongs between my legs.
”Almost,” he says, when I already think he”s entered and expanded me completely.
“So good.” I fidget, moving my hips, unsure if I can take much longer of this agony, a sweet ache pulsing in my inner walls. My pussy is at war with his cock—on one side, I want every inch of him, but on another, I know it”ll take some adjustment to take him, even with me soaking wet and still dripping cream.
I feel sinfully dirty, deliciously transgressive.
A few seconds later, he”s inside me entirely, and I take a heartbeat or two to adjust. The veins of his dick pulsate inside me, and my clit thrums in anticipation. When I release my breath, I feel dizzy and heavy. So many emotions flash through my head like fireworks on the Fourth of July.
Archer drapes over me and plants a kiss on my neck, and a tremor races through my body. He takes advantage and moves inside me, earning a couple of moans as I battle the tenuous line between pain and pleasure.
His groan fills the space, the sound telling me that he”s also clinging to the last thread of his self-control.
This is crazy.
He continues to thrust into and out of me, standing upright and placing his hand firmly on the small of my back to keep me in place.
”Yes,” he whispers. ”Move that ass now.”
I follow his command and rock my hips into his, each time deepening our connection, his cock hitting a part of me that has never been touched before.
Pleasure builds inside me again, this time stronger than before. My body barely contracts. There”s no time. An intense force sweeps over me, a rocket flying from one extremity to the other, arrowing down, then up, then down again in a relentless loop of pleasure.
Soon after, I feel his jerky movements behind me, and he comes, filling me with his load, so much that some of it drips down my thighs.
When he”s done, I’m glued to his desk. Sweat glistens over my body. My arms and legs are shaky and weak, and my breath condenses on the smooth surface. I can”t move. I can”t walk. I can”t do anything.
What do I do now?
He kisses the top of my head, and the act sends a warm flutter to my chest. ”Are you okay?” he asks, a dash of concern in his voice. He”s not asking me to leave, I hope. I don”t want to believe that. I want to believe…
I shake my head.
”No?” he asks behind me.
”No, I mean, yes. I”m good,” I say, carefully propping myself on my elbows.
I take a deep breath and stand. I avoid looking at him, glancing at the floor to look for my pants and pulling them on quickly.
”You can freshen up in my bathroom if you”d like,” he offers.
I raise my gaze to him, and he hands me my G-string. I instinctively touch my pants and realize I forgot to slip them on. Wait. I never took them off. ”I don”t remember taking it off.”
”You didn”t,” he says with a smile that makes me want to throw myself in his arms. “I ripped them off when you were coming.” He comes close to me and whispers in my ear. ”And I”ll do it again.”