7. Dex
7
DEX
She seems mildly shocked as she replies, “Okay.”
“Good girl.”
I take my time with the first lick all the way up her slit, and I’m not sure what’s better: the taste of her honey, the little panting sounds she makes, or how she shudders. More sampling needed to be certain. I lick her again, and yeah, those noises are sweet as fuck as I go over her clit. She’s delicious, but as I focus my attention and tongue on that sensitive place, I can’t help but grin at the way she writhes and moans.
Gripping her thighs and pushing her wider open for me, I gorge on her softness. She’s a total contrast to me. My cock is leaking pre-come, desperate and unable to wait any longer to get inside her. But I’ll wait, because her needs are more important right now. Meanwhile, she’s dripping her sweet liquid out, covering my beard with it and getting us both sloppy.
A glance upwards reveals that her eyes are hazy and she’s leaning back on her arms. She’s flushed again and those lovely nipples are pert for me. I look forward to getting back to sucking them, but for now, I keep my tongue rhythmically flicking over her clit, again and again, driving her higher.
Reluctantly letting go of one of her thighs, I stroke all the way down her leg, then back up. Next to where I’m licking her, I gently press the tip of my forefinger into where she’s dripping onto my table. There’s a bit of resistance, then she stretches for me, and I push in. She’s hot and tight.
“Oh-my-god-oh-my-god-Dex-Dex,” she babbles.
“That’s it, open,” I say between sucks on her clit, then go further, gradual but unrelenting, withdrawing and going deeper.
“Dex, I… That feels…”
I pause, my finger in as far as the third knuckle.
“No!”
I’m about to pull away when her hand finds the back of my head and clamps onto me.
“No, don’t stop. Please, Dex. Don’t stop.”
At your service, little one .
Sucking harder on her throbbing bundle of nerves, I curl my finger up and drag it out before shoving back in, fast this time, and she moans, grip tightening in my hair.
Then it’s a steady increase, my hand and tongue working together. She begins to lose control, and I chase her, ravenous for her to peak with my face pushed into her folds.
It’s gratifyingly easy for me to break her. She comes, shuddering and clenching and holding onto me. She pulses around my finger in wave after wave of pleasure and I’m so proud I could shout or sing or take out a front-page ad in The Times . “My good virgin girl came for me,” would make quite the headline.
I work her through it with kisses and slow slides, and enjoy how slick she is. And yeah, I think about how that tight, wet heat is going to feel on my cock. Heaven.
When she’s finally still, I push to my feet and look down at my girl, spread on my desk. With Sophia half reclined, I tower over her, but her cunt is at exactly the right height. She’s temptation incarnate, sprawled amongst the papers, her tits falling out of her bra, a sheen of sweat on her skin, and her legs open like a needy little slut. For me. She’s a slut for me .
With shaking hands as though this is my first time too, I free my cock. I’m unable to do more than shove the necessary clothing aside, not even undress.
This feels fresh. Different. I’m going to take her virginity and that’s new to me. I love her, and she’s the only one who has ever caused this spiralling in my chest. I’ve never needed a woman so much that I can’t wait long enough to get to a bed, and we’re in my goddamned office on a weekday afternoon. And there is no one as beautiful as Sophia.
So I guess it’s not a surprise that this feels like I’m a virgin as well, and as eager to have my bride as she is for me.
Sophia’s eyes flutter open and fixate on where my cock juts obscenely from my open trousers.
“You’re so big,” she breathes.
She knows all the right things to say. And I’m a bastard, because I enjoy that thread of fear in her voice. She’s a virgin, and she’s going to take all of my massive cock.
“Wasn’t that what you wanted?” I tease her, hiding my glee. “You put it on your list, remember?”
“Please do not remind me of the worst embarrassment of my life,” she replies with a wince.
“You said you wanted a man with?—”
“I know what I wrote,” she cuts me off. “And I’m still dying of embarrassment.”
“Well.” I straighten and take my cock in my hand, stroking up and down. Her gaze dips to my shaft again. “Having seen it up close, are you going to change your list?”
“No. No, I… Please, Dex.” Her eyes meet mine. “Please.”
“So pretty when you beg,” I murmur with a smirk I can’t suppress, then pause. “This might hurt.” I’d accept all her pain myself if I could. “Just the first time.”
“I know. That’s partly why I didn’t want this to be when I get pregnant. In case I…” She sighs. “Bottle it and never want to do it again, and then it’ll be a terrible experience.”
“It won’t be.” I swear that as I angle my cock down and slide it over her wet slit, covering the swollen head with her slick. It sends a bolt of pleasure from where we touch.
I notch myself at her entrance then narrow my eyes as I notice she’s just watching me, passive. And I look at the distance between our faces, and the lack of intimacy. I can’t even kiss her like this.
That won’t do.
“Come here.” I scoop her up with one arm and lift her, then step back and settle into my office chair, and I’m thankful it’s big enough for her to have her knees on the leather either side of my thighs.
She steadies herself with her hand on my shoulders and blinks at me. “I thought you were going to…”
“Fuck you on my desk?” I finish for her. “I was. But you want to learn about sex?” I run my hand over her head and down her neck, settling one hand over her collarbone and the other on her heart, then gently pull her forwards to speak into her ear. “You should do this for yourself. Explore. Use me. I’m here. Whatever you decide to try, I’ll do. And you can take this at your own pace.”
She looks down at where my aching cock is wedged between us. Dragging in a shaky breath, she pushes up, and she’s small enough compared to me that I only have to tilt my chin up an inch as she’s on her knees before me. I hold my cock for her and guide her down, and the moment the head presses into where she’s wet and warm and yielding, I exhale with relief.
I’ve needed this. I want to tell her so as she balances herself and whimpers as she works herself down with the help of gravity.
“That’s it,” I encourage her, instead of scaring her with my obsession. “Take what’s yours.”
“It pinches,” she says with a quaver in her tone.
“I know, I know.” I stroke down her side, over her belly, and down to where I’m splitting her. “But it’s going to feel amazing.” It already does for me. “You’re doing so well. Such a good girl.”
The praise emboldens her, and she lowers again, taking an inch, then slowly, gradually, another inch.
“Fuck. Fuuccccck.” I try to breathe through the surge of pleasure. “You’re tight. So tight.”
“Sorry,” she says awkwardly, and I half laugh, half groan as her forehead creases with concern.
“No, it’s a good thing, little one.” I push the tendril of hair that has fallen out of whatever she does with it to keep it up away from her pretty face. “You feel amazing.”
“Oh.” She blinks. “Too much? Should I stop? In case you…”
I shake my head and catch the back of her neck, bringing her lips to me. Never. She should never leave me.
Kissing her is good, because it prevents me from saying more as she returns to lifting and lowering herself on my length. If I can’t speak because I’m kissing her, I won’t tell her that I love her, or that this might be a marriage of convenience but that I’m never letting her go, or that it’s going to kill me holding on until she’s most fertile.
I also can’t confess that I don’t need her as enhanced credibility for the London Maths Club. It was the only slightly plausible reason I could think of, that wasn’t that she’s captivated me, body and soul, since we met.
“You’re mine, now,” I say hoarsely, losing the promise into her skin in a low murmur. She mustn’t hear. She’d run from me, and I couldn’t bear that. “You belong to me from this day forward.”
Having her the first time is a primal claim unlike anything I’ve experienced.
She lifts herself off a bit, then slides back down and I help her, guiding her hips and murmuring praise.
“I’m going to stroke your clit again, little one,” I say when she’s getting the hang of it. “I want you to come on my cock.” I want to feel her ecstasy, and I’m just praying I can hold on, and not let her tip me over.
Her gaze flies to mine. “I don’t know if I can.”
“You’re capable of amazing things.” I reach to where she’s slippery between her legs and when I touch her, she tightens, drawing a moan from me. Her inexperience is making it slightly easier to not come, but if she milks it out of me…
I focus on her face, not allowing my gaze to drop to where her tits are bouncing, or where her cream is seeping out and covering the base of my cock and dribbling onto my heavy balls.
“You’re so tight. That’s it, little one.” I circle over her clit, watching her carefully for any sign it’s too much. But there’s none. She’s gasping and panting, holding onto my shoulders as she uses me.
“You’re enormous. You’re—ohhh!” Her eyes flutter closed and for a few seconds I allow the tenderness and love in my heart to show in my face as I watch her come.
“My beautiful darling. Go on. You’ve earned it.” I move to touching the edge of her clit and rubbing her back as she collapses, grinding down on my length, taking as much as she can. “Come on this big cock you’ve managed so bravely.”
I can feel pre-come pushing up from the tip of my cock, and I don’t know whether to hope for more, on the smallest off-chance it could get her pregnant, or wish it would stay entirely in my balls, waiting for the prime moment.
What I do know is my bride’s place is on me, like this.
Sophia makes an “mm” sound and lifts herself slowly up, resuming her slide over my cock, her breath hitching.
She’s so lovely, discovering her dormant sexuality with me and I admire her.
The phone rings, a jarring, shrill noise cutting into our moment.
We both look at it.
Sophia is naked, riding my cock. I’m still fully dressed apart from where we’re joined.
Damnit, I’ve only just felt her perfect soft wet channel over my length after a lifetime of being without her. I need more.
I’m not ready for this to end yet.
“It’s the London Maths—I mean Mafia Syndicate group call,” she whispers, as though she might accidentally summon them into the room. “I should go?—”
“No.” I grip her as she begins to shift off me. “Stay.”
Her patterned eyes meet mine. “What are you saying?”
The phone continues to ring.
“Ten days, little one. We only have ten days for you to practise.” Because what if she gets pregnant immediately? She might not want to do it again, or something else could go wrong. I need to make the most of every opportunity.
“And you think this will help?” There are nerves in her expression, yes, but arousal too.
“Can you be my good, quiet girl?” I’ll protect her. Have one thumb ready to hang up at any moment. But this is her choice, so I relax my grip. “Just keep me warm for a bit until we can get back to what we were doing.”
A long beat of quiet is punctuated by the insistent shrill of the phone, and I’m certain she’s going to leave.
The ring is so loud. It’s intrusive into our silent communication between our bodies. I’m trying not to beg with my eyes, because my cock is doing that eloquently. I’m harder than ever, even though she’s stopped moving.
But after a gulp, she nods and the dark thrill of the risk of what we’re doing pulses in my bloodstream.
“Sit still for me, darling.” I allow myself a smug smile as I pick up the call. “Streatham here.”
“Bloody took your time about it,” Lambeth grumbles, and a few others give equally surly greetings before Westminster snaps and begins to talk business.
For a few minutes, she just sits on my lap, and I relish the taboo of what we’re doing. I have my young, gorgeous, forbidden, assistant on me. Her naked tits are right in my eyeline, and every little wriggle of her bottom sends sparks from the crown down to my balls.
My virgin employee. During work time.
That in itself is filthy, but having my cock soaking inside of her during a meeting? Absolutely degraded, and I love it.
I lean fully back into the padded leather of the chair, and listen to the updates, phone in one hand.
Sophia is wide-eyed and disbelieving, but squirming a bit. She’s a kinky little thing, getting off on this casual-use vibe. Is it me using her, or her using me? It’s sort of both.
With slow deliberation, I bring my hand to her breast, and slowly explore the area as though I have no end in mind.
“Streatham,” Westminster barks. “What about Operation Calculus? Do you have an update on the situation with the Essex Cartel?”
Sophia is motionless.
“We’re making very good progress,” I say, looking my girl in the eye, and roll her nipple. “Very good indeed.”
She arches, pushing her small breasts towards me.
“Are we talking about the same thing?” Mayfair demands, his Russian accent stronger with annoyance.
“We had a slight inconvenience,” I reply, “But we’ve fixed it now.” Or rather, I will fix my girl up with a baby. Reaching for her clit, I gently begin to circle where she’s most sensitive.
Sophia bites her lip and squirms as I methodically coax her higher and explain the problem I had with my Essex Cartel sources to the rest of the Syndicate.
“And you’re sure you can trust David Tiptree?” grumbles the Canary Wharf kingpin.
“Yes.” Looking into Sophia’s hazel eyes, I say, “I have no doubts.”
Westminster speaks, fussing about the potential for failure, and I barely listen.
“Touch your breasts,” I mouth. Then I have to suppress a groan as Sophia does as I bid, and the sight of her pinching her nipple nearly makes me shoot my load right into her, up against her womb where it’s needed.
“We need to ensure we move at the correct time, and don’t reveal ourselves to the Essex Cartel.” I raise my eyebrows meaningfully to my little assistant, even as I ruthlessly rub her clit.
There’s a noisy discussion about the best way to keep our activities in the Essex Cartel secret.
Her expression is one of surprise and drugged with pleasure as she lifts herself just an inch then pushes back down on my cock, almost entirely silent. Her mouth is open in a pant. She’s close, and it fills me with pride stronger than anything I’ve felt before.
This girl is going to have my baby. Be by my side, and, if how she’s responding to my touch is an indication, be in my bed.
“Yes, perfect…”
“What’s perfect?” Mayfair snaps.
I curse inwardly. My future wife bouncing on my cock, that’s what’s perfect. “Securing the plan.”
She tightens around me and lets out a squeak as she works herself on my length. I have to close my eyes for a second to avoid spilling right there.
The phone call recedes. The world narrows down to this woman, and the way she feels. All my concentration is on getting her to her climax. London could burn to the ground for all I care.
She covers her mouth with her hand as the orgasm wracks through her.
I grit my teeth as her tight little passage tries to milk me.
“Something’s come up,” I say abruptly, and slam the phone down. Catching Sophia’s chin with two fingers, I lift it until she’s looking into my eyes.
“We’ll do that every day. As many times as you like, so you’re ready to be bred.”