Chapter 57
Anton
I’d definitely do that. I’d want to shock her. Remind her who calls the shots. I drive two fingers inside her, careful not to touch her clit at all, and she jolts.
‘Oh my God—just like that.’
‘Yeah?’ I twist my hand and crook them, and she sucks in a breath. ‘Ow. Yes. And you just sit there and finger-fuck me under my skirt for a few minutes, and I’m still topless, and everyone’s staring at my boobs.’
‘Do you like them staring?’ I ask through gritted teeth as I finger-fuck her with calculated thrusts. I watch with satisfaction as her entire body jolts each time I do it. As her face contorts.
‘Yes. I’m just standing there and taking it, and my face is burning, and it feels so fucking good. I never, ever want you to stop.’
Her face is indeed flushed. Extraordinary. The human mind is stunning. My own mind is squarely and happily split between the glorious images playing in my mind and the spectacular sight right in front of me. ‘I won’t stop,’ I say with a savage thrust.
‘But then you want more. So you make me slide my panties off, and you just yank my skirt up around my waist and you get me on my back on the table, right there in front of you, and you scoot your chair back in and spread my legs, and you hand over the presentation to someone else and start eating me.
‘And I’m just there, laid out on this table for you with my boobs hanging out, and you’re so, so good at it, but you’re still detached, you know? You haven’t lost control at all. Like you do this the whole time and it’s no big deal for you, even though you’ll ruin me.’
I hate and I love that she’s imagining this.
And I hate and love that she’s got herself in pretty much the same mental position that she was in when Max ate her out on my boardroom table.
I wonder if that’s deliberate or subconscious.
All I know is that, in this moment, I want to be that guy.
That monster who’s preyed upon some beautiful woman and fucking takes, takes, takes whatever he wants with no regard for anyone around him.
I reach over and untie the knots around her ankles, replacing them with my fingers and hauling her legs up and back so I can shimmy down onto my stomach and go to fucking town on her. I’m not sure how well I’ll be able to emulate the detachment she describes from my porno alter ego, but I’ll try.
I give her a long lick from front to back, my tongue slicing through swollen flesh and soaking arousal, and she cries out so loudly I worry she’ll come there and then. ‘Like this?’ I ask her, jabbing my fingers back inside her.
She shudders, clenching around my fingers. ‘Oh my God, yes.’
I start licking and talking. Licking and talking. Alternating my assault on her needy cunt with some filth of my own to help her along, to bring her fantasy even more to life.
Look at you spread out on the table for me.
Everyone can see your tits.
Everyone wants to touch you.
You like it, don’t you?
You like my tongue on your clit while everyone watches?
You’ve interrupted my meeting with your greedy little cunt, and I’m going to make you pay.
I’m going to get you nice and wet, and then I’m going to bend you over and fuck you in front of all these men, and no one will be able to hear poor old Barry droning on about next year’s projections because you’ll moan the fucking place down as I rail the living daylights out of you.
Okay, maybe Barry was a step too far, because I actually make myself laugh. It feels like a good time to stop talking and to send her over the edge.
To send us both over the edge, because I’m rutting against this fucking mattress and I can’t last another second without being balls-deep inside her.
I push up onto my knees to pull off my polo shirt and extricate a condom from my swim shorts before losing them, too. The moan she gave as I abandoned my licking turns to a hungry, filthy stare as she watches me sheath my length.
‘What happens then?’ I ask as I crawl over her and position my cock right at her entrance. She shimmies against me like she’s trying to get me inside her, and I grin. ‘I said what happens then?’
‘You fuck me,’ she breathes, staring up at me. She’s a fucking sight for sore eyes, tits heaving, breath shallow, voice needy.
‘On the table.’ I push in, rough and fast like I know she needs it, and she groans.
‘In front of everyone.’
‘Yes.’ She can barely speak. ‘You fuck me so hard, and I just lie there with my legs open for you, because I want you to do whatever you want to me. Whatever you—I’d do anything.’
‘Because…’ I drag my cock almost all the way out and glare down at her. I’m braced on one hand, the other hand gripping her hip because I’m going to need it to stop her flying off the fucking boat.
‘Because I need your dick so badly that nothing else matters,’ she confesses.
Her admission is a red rag, and I fucking let her have it. I abandon all vestige of control with a volley of drives so fucking hard that I might actually pass out.
Below me is my favourite Gen.
The woman she keeps so carefully hidden beneath those pristine, glossy, irreproachable layers.
The woman who screams and cries and bucks, every last inhibition blown to smithereens as she harnesses her beautiful, incredible appetites and fucking owns them.
And when she falls apart in spectacular fashion, the sea blue and sparkling around her, I’m right there behind her.