5 | Ever the poet
5 | ever the poet
My heart pounded as I obliged. Climbing out of the sofa, I sank to my knees, positioning myself before the coffee table. I rested my upper body against its polished, wooden surface, my thighs rubbing together in anticipation of his intrusion.
William knelt behind me, his hands finding my hips. ‘Tell me to stop if anything hurts.’
I nodded, taking a deep breath as the crest of him slid along my slit, wallowing in my juices.
‘Ready?’ he asked, and the low pitch of his voice right then was so seductive that I groaned.
‘Yes.’
He eased slowly into me, and my eyes closed. Oh my God. He was so fucking big, and now he was stroking precisely across that vulnerable spot on my front wall.
‘Fuck,’ I whimpered, my fingers folding over the other end of the table.
He stopped at once, although he hadn’t come all the way in yet. ‘Does it hurt?’
‘No,’ I said breathily. ‘It feels amazing.’
‘Good.’ He groaned, sliding further in. ‘Shit, Cara. I won’t be able to last long.’
‘Me neither.’
He was gentle upon his retreat, and his first few thrusts were gentle, too. I appreciated that, as I was somewhat struggling to accommodate him. But the more aroused I became, the more I spread to welcome him. Slowly, he increased the pace, and the friction blew my mind.
‘Mmm, yes. Just like that,’ I said, lifting my upper body by bracing my elbows against the table’s surface.
William bent over me, strong arms coming around my waist to hold me intimately. His hands travelled to my breasts, squeezing and pinching. I turned my head in search of his lips, and he kissed me sweetly while he continued driving into me, his thrusts becoming harder and harder. With each shove, he struck that sensitive spot within me, and the sensation bolted up my spine until it tingled in my nose.
After a while, his right hand let go of my breast, sliding down my stomach instead, and then his fingers were rubbing my throbbing clit. The combination of it all drove me senseless with pleasure. He was everywhere, both within and without. His hand on my breast, his lips on mine, his fingers on my clit, his dick inside me – I couldn’t take any more. It was too intense.
‘Shit,’ I cried out and pulled away from his mouth, needing air. The tension continued to heat up in my system, nearing its boiling point. Reaching for his hands on my body, my palms wrapped over the back of his, our fingers interlacing. When he thrust again, I squeezed his hands so hard that my fingers grew numb.
Air stormed out of my lungs. ‘Fuck,’ I mouthed.
He continued masterfully, his dick striking my front wall with clinical precision. I shook my head. This was overwhelming.
‘Will,’ I warned. My walls clamped down on him as if to reject him. Stars rained past my closed eyes. He was fucking me heavenly. My face twisted at the intensity. Shit.
‘Yes, mon amour ,’ he said, his French triggering me like nothing else. ‘Come for me.’ He gripped my jaw and turned my head. A heartbeat later, his mouth was on mine. As my breaths grew ragged and strained, waves of pleasure rippled through me, growing more intense with each one. Anticipating my imminent climax, William reinforced his grip on me, eliminating any chance of escape.
And then, it unlocked. I wailed his name, an avalanche of sheer pleasure sweeping through my body, sending tremors through my entire system. But William confined me to him, holding me tightly. I quaked around his throbbing dick, my thighs squeezing together as I succumbed to pure bliss. Dissolving in his arms, faint whimpers escaped my mouth as he kept ramming into me, each thrust harder and faster than the last. He was nearing it.
He groaned loudly a final time, then thrust so hard it was somewhat painful. I winced, clawing his forearms as he folded over me, his ragged breaths echoing our shared exhaustion.
Silence ensued, punctuated only by the sounds of our slow recovery.
‘Shit,’ he chuckled after a while. ‘I’ve never come that fast during sex.’ He dropped a soft kiss on my shoulder.
‘It was fucking intense,’ I said, my voice hoarse.
‘Did it hurt at all?’ he asked, pulling out. I wrinkled my nose at the unpleasant feeling. I hated when they pulled out.
‘Only the last thrust.’
‘Sorry. I’ll remember that for next time.’
‘I survived.’ I crumbled sideways, sprawling haphazardly across the intricate patterns of the shimmering rug beneath us. Its silvery-beige base melded with hints of gold and blue, creating a captivating blend of colours that momentarily held my attention.
William wrapped his arms around my body with familiar ease, lifting me back onto the sofa. As he slipped away to the toilet near the hall, I remained ensconced in the cushions, the muted sound of running water indicating his quick freshening up.
He reappeared, a copper-toned hand towel in his grasp, and prised my legs apart. A satisfied gleam flickered in his eyes, his lips curling into a smug smirk at the sight of his handiwork. With an intimacy that was as caring as it was sensual, he wiped my inner thighs with the soft towel, gently drying off his overflowing release. Then, he stretched out next to me, drawing me into the warmth of his embrace. A soft smile danced on my lips as I nuzzled my nose against his skin, indulging in the heady odour that was distinctly his.
We surrendered to a tranquil quiet, exchanging tender kisses of affection. Every time I lay beside him like this, eyes closed in peaceful surrender, I felt a soaring sensation, as though I could reach out and brush my fingers against the sky. Without a doubt, these precious, intimate moments between us were my own personal slice of heaven.
After a prolonged silence, William’s voice laced through the serene atmosphere. ‘The wall, the dining table, the bed, the sofa, and the coffee table… That’s five spots now ticked off my list.’
A giggle bubbled from my lips as I opened my eyes, propping myself up on my elbow. William’s mouth was stretched into a broad grin, his eyes still closed in contentment.
He continued, ‘Let’s aim to have sex on every available surface. The bathroom seems like a good place to start for our next round, be it in the bath or the shower. Your choice, of course.’
I couldn’t hold back a soft peal of laughter. His enthusiasm was too charming. Leaning in, I pressed a lingering kiss to his chest, feeling the rhythmic drumming of his heart against my lips. ‘Sounds like a wonderful plan. And I’ll be allowed to ride you then, right?’
He was about to speak when the familiar trill of a phone ringing interrupted us. We both had the same tone, but the proximity of the sound indicated it couldn’t be mine – my purse was still in the hall.
Stretching his arm toward the floor, William swiftly retrieved his jeans and extracted his phone from the back pocket. The moment he angled the screen toward us, the serenity that had enveloped me was shattered.
John was calling.
‘I should take this,’ William said, his steadiness in stark contrast to the storm of emotions within me. Accepting the call, he raised the phone to his ear and answered in a measured tone, ‘Hi, Dad.’
I froze, my breath hitching in my throat, fearing that even the faintest sound of my breathing might carry over to John. Yet, William remained calm, his hand tracing soothing patterns on my back as if he hadn’t a concern in the world.
‘No, I gave it a miss today,’ he said to John, his tone casual. Missed what? ‘Just didn’t fancy a drink, that’s all.’ The penny dropped – it was Friday. Post-work drinks. ‘Cara and I popped over to Fusion instead,’ he added nonchalantly.
My heart leaped to my mouth. Why the hell did he divulge that? I sat upright in alarm, sending him a sharp glare, my eyes wordlessly demanding, ‘Why did you tell him that?’
William held my gaze, mouthing a silent, ‘Calm down.’ Returning his attention to John, he said, ‘Yes, Jian was there. Actually, there’s something you ought to know. It seems a corporate food conglomerate has been pushing rather aggressively for some kind of “takeover” – as Jian called it – of Fusion. He’s quite concerned.’
It was a struggle to keep my panic at bay. Should John, the Managing Partner of Day the damage might already be done, and fretting about it would do no good. ‘What did he say that got you acting like a sulky teenager?’
He sighed. ‘He wants me to attend a charity event in a few weeks.’
‘And that’s a bother?’
‘Yes. I can’t stand events like that. They’re swarming with self-important people, and small talk is all you do the entire evening. Drives me mad.’
‘Why won’t Jason attend?’
‘Because the prick told Dad he’s already made plans that day, and that I’m better suited since it’s a chance to network. Plus, Andy and Alex will be there. Stephen and Jon aren’t invited.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘He’s got plans, my fucking arse. The man can barely plan a week ahead.’
At that, I couldn’t contain my laughter. What he said was a candid reflection of Jason’s laissez-faire approach to life.
‘Why won’t John go himself?’ I asked.
‘He meant to, initially, but Mum’s hospital is hosting an event for the staff that night, so they’re double-booked. And, knowing him, he was eager to escape the event himself. He prefers to just transfer the funds directly to the charities instead of showing up to functions.’
My mouth twisted with amusement. ‘Like father, like sons, I suppose.’
He grumbled an affirmative, ‘Yeah.’
‘Is your attendance really necessary, though?’
‘Yes. Someone needs to represent the family.’
‘Seems you’re trapped, then.’ I planted a sympathetic kiss on his chest.
‘Unfortunately.’
I trailed my fingertips along his arm. ‘Do you think our colleagues will suspect, by the way? Since neither of us showed up for post-work drinks?’
He gave me a sceptical look. ‘Not in the slightest. They’ll think it’s a coincidence. Violet and Andy will cover for us if anyone asks, I’m sure.’
‘They’re aware of our date?’
‘Yeah.’
I let out an anxious breath. ‘I hope no one else suspects. Ellie is worrying me a bit.’
He tapped my back absentmindedly. ‘Cara, you need to relax about this whole dating-your-boss thing. In fact, as your supervisor, I’m the one at greatest risk. I’m not saying this because I want you to stop fighting us. I’m sincerely trying to enlighten you about the status quo on this matter. Workplace romances are common. How we conduct one is the critical factor.’
His words, meant to soothe, only served to heighten my worry – for him. There wasn’t a chance I would sit idly by while he, too, risked his career to explore our connection.
‘Perhaps we should draw up a contract that establishes mutual responsibility, Will. That way, if things turn sour between us, you won’t bear more risk than me.’
‘Ever the pessimist,’ he grumbled. ‘First of all, things won’t turn sour. Second, what you’re suggesting is known as a “love contract”. It’s commonplace in the US, but here in the UK, they don’t tend to hold up in court.’
I frowned. ‘Why not?’
‘There are two reasons, mainly. First, under UK law, an employee can’t waive their right to protection against harassment in the workplace. Second, such a contract would contravene Article 8 of the European Convention on Human Rights.’
I struggled to remember the specifics of Article 8. ‘What does that article entail again?’
‘Well, essentially, it states that we’re entitled to a private life. In other words, it’s not illegal to have office romances in the UK. On the contrary, we are entitled to it, so long as we conduct it appropriately.’
I scrutinised his features, but his expression was flat. ‘Have you actually researched this?’
He nodded. ‘Right after you walked into my office the first time.’
I groaned, my eyes rolling. ‘So while I was pouring over my contract, you were researching the legalities of dating me?’
‘Yes.’
‘Christ. Was I that much of a foregone conclusion?’
‘I just wanted to know, just in case.’
A realisation hit me. ‘So that was the work that required your “immediate attention” back then.’
He grinned. ‘Yes.’
‘I would’ve thought your past experience with Violet had already familiarised you with this sort of thing.’
He shrugged. ‘I knew I couldn’t be sacked for having a sexual relationship with a colleague – all depending on how it’s conducted, of course – but I wasn’t sure if my position as your boss would alter the situation. Besides, my relationship with Violet was never quite the same – it was never romantic.’
‘Hmm.’ I averted my gaze. Despite his reassurances, I was far from entirely convinced. ‘Have you got the handbook? If it’s not illegal, I’m sure Day the memories were trickling back.
‘I think I remember this case.’
William’s smile mirrored mine. ‘Do you remember what it says, then?’
I fixed him with a narrow gaze, a challenge in my tone. ‘Something about our right to privacy even at work? It wasn’t about romantic relationships at work, though.’
His lips twisted with poorly veiled amusement. ‘No, you’re right that the case doesn’t go into detail about romantic relationships at work. However, the Court makes a general statement that covers it. This is where the ECtHR established that activities relevant to self-realisation and the development of personal relationships are also entitled to protection in the workplace and may also happen there.’
He steered the cursor to paragraph twenty-nine and highlighted the relevant text. ‘Specifically, the Court reasons that, “it is, after all, in the course of their working lives that the majority of people will have a significant, if not the greatest, opportunity of developing personal relationships with the outside world.” In conclusion, we are within our rights to pursue a relationship even at work, Cara.’
I pursed my lips. ‘Still, it says in the handbook that if a relationship exists between an employee and their line manager, it’s both our responsibility to notify the HR department so that they can take steps to evaluate the situation and whether assigning alternative roles might be necessary, to avoid compromising the company’s—’
‘Yes,’ he cut in, ‘but until we’re actually in a relationship, it doesn’t apply to us.’
I raised a brow. ‘It says “personal relationship”. In the definitions, it’s clarified that a sexual relationship falls under that term.’
He groaned. ‘Cara, they’re just guidelines, not actual laws. We have every right to be doing this. I’ve already done it for a year with Violet. We’ll be fine. All we need to do is remain professional while at work.’
I stiffened in his hold. ‘We are walking on thin ice here.’
‘We’re navigating a grey area,’ he argued.
‘I’m not comfortable breaking the guidelines. I studied law because I meant to abide by the rules, not break them. Seriously. I’ve inherent respect for rules like these.’
‘Cara, please,’ he begged, a note of desperation seeping into his voice. ‘Be pragmatic. For once.’
I nibbled on my lower lip, uncertain, while his eyes pleaded with me not to remain principled about this.
Giving in, I exhaled in resignation. ‘No one else can know, Will. Only Andy and Vi.’
He grinned. ‘Thank you. I just don’t want you shadowing anyone else – I prefer to keep you to myself. Besides, we’ve already seen how well we work together. I swear this won’t jeopardise that. We’re a great team. It’s in the company’s best interests that we remain within our current roles.’
Except for his concluding remark, he was right, but whether this really served the company’s best interests was up for debate. Nevertheless, I didn’t want to argue that point. Instead, I said, ‘If Ellie begins to suspect something—’
‘We’ll tell her nothing.’
‘I’m relying on your discretion,’ I told him gravely.
His fingers tenderly cradled my chin, tilting my face to meet his. With a promise in his eyes, he lavished a string of feather-light kisses on my lips.
‘You can trust me. Always,’ he said, his voice resonating with conviction.
This pact we were making left me with a swirl of emotions, the full weight of the situation bearing down on me. ‘If I even get a whiff of suspicion that others are catching on, I won’t hesitate to inform HR,’ I warned, ‘as a proactive step.’
‘That’s fair,’ he conceded, ‘but do give me a heads-up first.’
‘Of course.’
In a mock formality, he extended his hand and shook mine, drawing a small smile from me. But the decorum was short-lived. Raising my hand to his mouth, he swept his lips delicately over my wrist, grazing across the throbbing pulse.
His mellow voice dipped into a lower, sultrier tone as he asked, ‘What do you say to a hot bath?’ His gaze was fixed on mine, his intentions transparent.
I chuckled, my cheeks prickling with excitement. ‘How hot are we talking about?’
The corner of his mouth tugged up. ‘So hot the water around us will feel like winter’s frost.’ His hand slid slowly up my thigh, his fingers inching toward the apex, dangerously close to the wet evidence of my own mounting desire. I cupped his chiselled jaw, a smile playing on my lips.
‘Ever the poet,’ I murmured, my voice saturated with adoration. Leaning in, I brushed my lips against his. ‘Let’s dive in. ’