20. Denise
Chapter twenty
Denise
I unzip my thigh-high stiletto boots as soon as I step through my apartment door. The pain I endure for fashion! It was worth it, though; when I took off my jacket, Cory looked like he wanted to pounce.
Getting ready separately was such a good idea. We couldn't very well get ready together, show up together, and then pretend to be strangers. People would know something was up. As it is, I think we're one more slip from Maya figuring it out, but until she says something, I'm going to assume the coast is clear.
I kick off shoes that could pass as torture devices and start towards the bathroom before the buzzer stops me.
"Ugh, c'mon!" I grumble. "I've been on my feet for,"—the stove clock reads 11:48pm—"over four hours! Can't a girl take a bath and crash in peace?!"
I shuffle to the intercom on bare feet, prepared to chew out whoever answers, but there's a knock on my door. Who the hell would come by this late? I hope one of my neighbors didn't let a stranger into the building.
Padding quietly to the peephole in case I need to pretend I'm not home or, worse, call the cops, I breathe a sigh of relief when I see Cory on the other side. I unlock the three deadbolts and stand aside for him to enter.
"Your fucking door is still broken, Denise!" he shouts as he storms into the room. I close the door behind him. "It wasn't even shut all the way when I buzzed. Anyone could have walked in!"
He's so furious, he's pacing…And he's got a point. I may be a tough New Yorker,—growing up in Mount Vernon and then living in the city ever since college—but I'm not stupid. I'm still a woman living alone. Not having a working lock on the front door of my building is asking for something terrible to happen.
I stop his pacing with my hands on his shoulders.
"You're right," I say in a soothing voice. "I do need a working lock on the front door."
I breathe in and out, hoping he'll "woosah" with me and calm down. After the third breath, he finally does.
"I'll call the super first thing in the morning," I promise. Cory shakes his head emphatically.
"The super who's already gone months without fixing it? The one whose voicemail and inbox are full? That super?"
I pull him down onto the couch and put my legs in his lap to distract him. He strokes them absently, but his jaw is still clenched.
"I see your point. But what do you want me to do? I may be handy with a sewing machine, but I don't know how to install a whole lock. Plus, I'd have to coordinate with my neighbors, or someone's going to get locked out."
"Do you have their numbers?" he asks in a stern tone that starts a tingle between my legs. Great. I'll go ahead and add "getting aroused at inappropriate times" to the list of topics for my next session with Dr. Jamison.
"I do."
"Well, then tomorrow, we'll call all of them and let them know we're hiring a locksmith. When the locksmith's done, we'll make sure everyone gets new keys."
"We?" I practically squeak. He turns to me, fire in his eyes.
"Yes, we . That way I know it's done and I won't be worried my girl is living in a building anyone can just waltz into. I mean, Denise . What if it hadn't been me tonight?"
He's breathing hard, like a bull ready to charge, and I lean my forehead against his, my tone contrite.
"You're right. We'll get a new lock tomorrow."
We stay like that for a few more breaths until he settles back against the couch. I quirk an eyebrow at him.
"You were about to go Super Saiyan for a second there," I joke. He cracks a smile.
"Wrapped in skintight leather and she's a DBZ fan? Denise, I can only get so hard." The look in his eyes is lecherous and his fingers start to squeeze the thick flesh of my thighs.
"But wait," I say through a giggle. "Won't I get in trouble for changing the building locks without permission?"
Cory's eyes are burning embers once more.
"So we'll make him a fucking key. A lock is a safety issue, and he's been completely unreachable. If he tries to hassle you, I'll have my brother deal with him. No landlord wants to get caught putting their tenants at risk."
Hearing Cory be so protective of me, even offering his brother's help, does something to my insides. I'm so used to being on my own, and here comes this Finance bro, who a year ago I wouldn't even have talked to, sticking up for me.
I put my foot in his lap and rub through his pants until I feel the telltale bulge.
"What are you doing, D?" he asks, though he widens his legs so I have better access.
"Seeing you get all riled up on my behalf has me feeling some type of way, Cory."
His chuckle is pained.
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah," I purr, stroking up and down his length. "How about we bring this to the bedroom so I can thank you in advance for fixing my lock?"
Without another word, Cory hoists me up into his arms, my knees in the crook of his elbow, and carries me to the bedroom. I try to ignore the flutter in my heart at how easily he picked me up, but it's impossible. Being manhandled just does it for me.
Cory kicks the door open and tosses me onto the bed, sending Madame Clawdette scurrying. I'll give her an extra treat tomorrow to make up for it. When he rips off his Goku wig, I stifle a giggle, but the impulse quickly dies because Cory tearing off his shirt, exposing wide expanses of marble smooth skin and taut muscles, is no laughing matter.
"God, you're beautiful," I say before I think better of it. He lifts a corner of his mouth.
"I was going to say the same thing, though I'm not sure you need all those clothes. Strip ."
The last word is a command, sharp and strong, like a teacher rapping on the desk with a ruler. My pussy squeezes involuntarily. I rub my thighs together to increase the friction, but Cory catches my knees and widens them.
"Ah, ah, ah, Denise. Not without me. Strip, or you get a handprint on that perfect ass of yours."
I debate my choices internally. Sure, I want to fuck him…but I also wouldn't mind that handprint. Decision made, I roll onto my back and smile at him from under my eyelashes, daring him to punish me.
He smirks, then grabs me by the hips and yanks me to the edge of the bed. Once again, my stomach flips at his show of strength. From between my hips, he reaches around my back, sliding his fingers along the skin-tight leather until they brush against the top hook and zipper.
"There it is," he mutters to himself.
His hair tickles my neck as he bends down to lower the zipper, caressing each inch of exposed skin. Unzipped to my waist, he peels the clinging fabric from my arms, then beckons me to stand up so he can free my hips, thighs, and finally calves.
"Ooh!" I sigh, relieved to finally be free of the jumpsuit, as sexy as it was.
I even coordinated my underwear, wearing a silver g-string a friend from school got me as a gag gift and a matching strapless corset bra. I felt like a vixen as soon as I put it on.
Cory's frozen in front of me, his eyes locked on my chest.
"You've got the most amazing tits I've ever seen," he whispers reverently, and I arch my back in response.
He reaches out to touch them, but pulls back and shakes his head.
"I almost got too distracted to give you your punishment. For that, you get two spanks."
He uses my shoulders to angle my body toward the bed, then guides me onto my hands so I'm bent at the waist. The chill of the fall night hits my naked skin and goosebumps cover my body.
He rubs my right cheek in small circles, warming it up, then delivers a quick, firm slap. My nipples tighten into stiff points even as my skin stings. He soothes the minor offense with more circular rubs before moving to the left cheek and repeating the treatment. I'm panting now, and there's definitely a wet spot in my panties.
"Now strip," he says again.
This time, I immediately shimmy out of my panties and kick them away. I unhook my corset bra as fast as possible from the awkward position. It too is flung who knows where in my room.
"That's much better. Good behavior earns you a reward."
He pushes me to sit on the bed, then further still until I'm lying all the way back with my knees spread.
"Fuck," he grunts, and it says everything. All the frustration and the desire and the lust. Even the lingering worry.
He kneels between my knees and brings his face level with my glistening sex. A hum of pleasure rumbles in his chest when I'm bare before him, and he leans in for a deep inhale of my essence. He's like a feral animal, driven crazy by my scent.
The first lick is slow, starting from the bottom, swirling over the top of my mound, then all the way back down again. My back bows with pleasure, even though he hasn't yet touched me where I'm most sensitive. And he won't. He loves to draw things out.
Next, he spreads my lips to expose my entrance, sinking his tongue deep inside me. But he still doesn't touch my clit. It's a good thing too, considering how close to cumming I already am.
Then he swirls his tongue around my clit languidly. It's not fast enough, and the pressure isn't strong enough. I can't help but huff in frustration. He chuckles but doesn't stop his ministrations. They keep me on the edge, wound tight like violin string. I'm almost desperate to cum now.
Finally— finally! —he increases the speed and pressure of his tongue against my clit, while sliding two fingers inside my wet heat. He keeps licking, curling his fingers into my g-spot and that does it. A leg-shaking, toe-curling, spine-tingling orgasm overtakes my body, strangling his poor fingers inside me. My voice is hoarse from my screams and I can't catch my breath. Goddamn, does this man have a mouth on him! I'd commit crimes for that mouth!
I gather all my strength to prop myself up on my elbows, then push up to sitting. Cory is still panting, his forehead resting against my inner thigh. That must have really taken it out of him.
I tug on his arm, trying to pull him up to the bed.
"Come on, babe. Get up here. It's your turn."
When he finally lifts his head, he looks sheepish and a little embarrassed.
"I," he scratches the back of his neck, not making eye contact. "I…I kinda already had my turn."
He gestures to his lap and I see an unmistakable wet spot in the center of his pants. Holy shit. Did Cory actually cum from eating me out? I didn't know that happened. Not in real life, anyway. Am I, like, a superhero now?
He looks so miserable, and I nearly tackle him in a hug.
"That is so hot, Cory! Like seriously, way hot. Please don't be embarrassed about what will go down as one of the best days of my pussy's life."
He lets out an awkward laugh, and the red starts to fade from his cheeks.
" One of the best? Not the best?"
"Well, I'm not sure," I pretend to think. "There was that Brazilian I dated for three steamy months sophomore year," I tease.
He nudges me in the elbow with a pout, and I break out laughing.
"I'm just kidding, babe." I clear my throat and try to sound serious. "That was so good, I'm not sure I'll ever recover."
He's smiling for real now, and pulls us both up to stand.
"That's more like it. Let's get cleaned up and then go to bed."
I waggle my eyebrows at him and he swats my ass.
"To sleep , woman," he laughs. "We've got a lot to do tomorrow."
He pulls me behind him into my bathroom, and I giggle like some infatuated teenager. This man stays getting in my feels! I'd be freaking out if my hard-won cynicism wasn't working double-time to quash the burgeoning tingles in my chest. So I've got a little crush. Maybe more than a little; big deal. It won't change how this thing ends.