Chapter Twelve
HOPE
Three Years Later
I’m sitting atop Wilson’s desk, with my dress riding high up my thighs. My legs are spread, I’m panty-less, and Wilson’s face is buried between my legs. His tongue is working its magic against my clit. Two fingers penetrate deep into my pussy, thrusting, twitching, and filling me to the brim.
He groans periodically as if he were a starved man and my pussy is the first meal he’s had in years. Those piercing blue eyes stare up at me from beneath the table while his tongue drags along my sensitive skin.
Just another day in paradise.
A whimpering moan breaks from my lips, while my fingers tangle in Wilson’s hair. A satisfied chuckle leaves his lips, but it doesn’t break his focus on his task. My legs tense around Wilson’s shoulders, pulling his large body tighter against my pussy.
His tongue starts moving in quick bursts over my clit, while his fingers sink in and out of me.
Wilson’s free hand trails up the side of my dress, and when it reaches my neckline, he pulls it down with a hard tug.
My tits bounce out of their confines, and if he wasn’t licking something else, I’m sure Wilson would be licking his lips.
He cups one of my breasts in his large hand, and the overwhelming stimulation brings me to the edge. I start grinding my hips against his mouth, forcing his fingers deeper, and do my best to fight the urge to scream.
As much as Wilson enjoys me making noise in the bedroom, his office is hardly the place to do it.
“Ah, fuck, Wilson, don’t stop. I’m gonna come.”
Stopping is hardly on his mind. The second I tell him I’m close, Wilson kicks it up a notch. He sucks my bud between his lips, the tip of his tongue flicking at incredible speed. His fingers match the tempo inside me.
I clutch at a handful of his hair, whipping my head back as pleasure explodes through my body. Choked groans rip out of me, no matter how I try and suppress them. My entire body tenses and spasms, until I’m sending the contents of Wilson’s desk rattling.
Then he chuckles.
“What’s so funny?” I ask, panting for air.
“You’re cute when you come,” he says.
Wilson lifts himself off the ground, wiping my juices from his face. With a single hand through his messy hair, it settles back into that business-casual look I’d become so accustomed to. It takes me hours to get ready in the morning, but Wilson makes it look effortless.
“God, I love you,” Wilson says.
“Feeling sentimental?” I ask with a giggle. But he knows it better than anyone; I love him, too. No, I love him more.
“You gonna keep going, or do you need a moment to breathe?” He ignores my question, adjusting one of his cufflinks.
This has become one of Wilson’s many games, since I joined him in the company he’s built. He says eating me out is a way to calm my nerves, before big meetings with bad men around the world, but I don’t buy it. I think it’s him who needs release before a grand showing of what we have on offer.
“Carry on? If we don’t get going, we’re going to be late.”
“A meeting with stuffy old dickheads who’ve already made their decisions? Who cares if we keep them waiting?” Wilson says.
“Make a good impression.” I kick myself off Wilson’s desk, helping adjust his tie. It’s the last remaining non-straight thing in his outfit, and even so, it’s only bent slightly to the left. “If you can secure funding from these investors, we can take this company to another level.”
“Babe, I’ve been to the moon and back. Four old men looking for rocket launchers and hand grenades aren’t going to help us get very far.” Wilson winks.
“But it’ll open the Eastern market. If we get them, the DW 33 will spread across America like wildfire,” I say.
“Alright, alright, I’ll go schmooze some old guys to get the Eastern market,” he says.
“Leave the schmoozing to me,” I say. “I can be very convincing when I want to be.”
“Lord, do I know it.”
Wilson takes my hand, and together we walk towards the double door leading into the company we now run together. Delaney, Ward, and Associates: Experts in Arms.
Not exactly an eye-catching title for a weapons manufacturer, but with Wilson’s prior experience in the arms trade, and my ability to charm the right people, we’ve done alright for ourselves.
Everything changed the night Alex Bates abducted me from my home.
With the proceeds of the deal with Manny Ramirez, Wilson decided to get out of the weapons smuggling game. He shifted his focus onto weapons manufacturing, and although I know many of our products still fall into the hands of devious warlords, I don’t care.
I left my life in Alabama behind, and followed Wilson to Miami, where we’ve started living our new life.
My parents call from time to time. Typically, after a brief conversation about how we’re doing, they’ll ask for money.
I always decline their requests. After the hell they put me through, I’ve had enough.
It’s time for them to grow up and fight their own battles.
Wilson leads me through our office building. While we’re walking, we’re interrupted by a few different people, each making their own requests for Wilson’s time. He handles these conversations with expert precision.
After the short walk from his office to the boardroom, Wilson stops to stare at the seven old men inside. One’s smoking a pipe despite the building’s strict no-smoking policy. When you’re rich enough, rules stop applying to you.
“You ready for this?” Wilson asks.
“More than you are, it seems,” I say.
He chuckles. Still holding my hand, he walks into the meeting with the most powerful investors on the East Coast.
“Gentlemen, apologies for keeping you waiting. I had something pressing to handle,” Wilson speaks with the cold conviction of a man who knows he’s already won.
The same voice that drew me to him years ago, during bullshit night school, during classes where I never thought I’d learn a thing. He pulled me away from a horrible life and brought me into his world.
I’m eternally grateful for that.
What I’m most thankful for is having him as my partner. Not only in crime (literally or figuratively), but also as my lover, my best friend, and the only person I trust completely.
There’s no going back now.
It’s me and Wilson against the world.
THE END.