Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Cassius
“Putting one foot in front of the other is not so easy,” I say, staring at my feet as we walk back to our hotel.
“Stop focusing on it.”
“If I don’t, I’ll fall.”
Harmon puts his hand on my lower back, pressing firmly enough that I feel like I don’t have to stare at my feet. I’m still swaying and things are still foggy, but it’s easier than it was before.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
We make it back to the hotel without me falling or bumping into anyone. I consider it a win. Though, I can’t say it would have gone so smoothly if I wasn’t with Harmon, who is amazing at guiding someone forward.
I didn’t get to see much of the hotel suite earlier since we were in a rush, so once we’re in it, I look at every corner. Every picture on the wall. Every piece of furniture. Of course, it’s all a little blurry…
“This is so nice. It’s crazy that people pay to just stay here…”
“Come here.”
Harmon’s voice comes from behind me somewhere. I spin too fast and put my hand on the wall to stop from falling to my ass.
I spot him sitting on the couch, so I go to him.
“Kneel.”
I kneel in front of him, smiling up at him like an idiot, I’m sure.
He reaches beyond me, taking something from the coffee table that’s behind me. When I spot what it is, I start to drool.
“Oh, hell yes.”
Harmon pops the top of the container and takes a small piece with the provided fork.
“Open,” he commands.
My mouth drops open and he gives me a bite of the cake. My lips wrap around the fork and I’m already moaning as the chocolate flavor explodes on my tongue. It’s the most delicious cake I have ever tasted. I chew and swallow, licking my lips and eager for more.
He feeds me slowly, patiently, until there is nothing left.
“You didn’t have a bite,” I pout, looking at the empty container and wishing I could make another appear like magic.
“I didn’t need one.”
“That’s not fair,” I say, blinking up at him. He watches me, something passing in his eyes that I can’t make out. Or maybe it’s the alcohol. “You’re missing out. It was really good.” I sit up, pressing my hands to his thighs and leaning in. “I think you should have some.”
“I fed it all to you,” he says huskily, watching me carefully.
“Mhmm,” I say, leaning in. “But there are ways.”
“Is that so?” he rasps.
He thinks he’s presenting calmness, but he’s not. I see his pulse pounding in his throat, see the excitement in his eyes. Maybe it’s like this all the time, or maybe he’s letting his guard down because I’m drunk and he thinks I won’t notice. But I notice. I notice so much. I see it all.
“Cassius…”
Maybe it’s supposed to be a warning, but I’ve had a lot to drink. So it sounds more like an invitation.
“You know you want to.” I move in closer, wanting him to want it. He doesn’t push me away, and that’s a plus.
Yes, I want to kiss him, but fuck, I want him to want to kiss me more.
We’re an inch apart now, and I’m still staring into his eyes.
“Harmon,” I taunt.
“Fuck,” he growls, grasping the back of my neck and tugging me to him.
His tongue slips between my lips, into my mouth, tasting every inch. He moans, which is the best thing I’ve ever heard. I moan in response, crawling on top of him until I’m straddling his lap.
His hands slide down my back and grasp my ass, pulling me to him. I grind against him, feeling how hard he is, and I moan again, my dick throbbing.
He kisses me desperately, like he’s afraid I’m going to tell him to stop and he can’t get enough. But then he’s the one that tears his mouth from mine, panting for breath.
“We shouldn’t do this. You’re drunk, and—”
“I’m not.”
I totally am.
“You’ve had a lot to drink, and it’s inappropriate.”
“Why? I want this.”
“You don’t know what you want, Cassius.”
“Like fuck I don’t. You’re hot as fuck, Harmon. Trust me. I want this.”
He watches me, eyes narrowing slightly. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“I’ll say it again. You are hot as fuck,” I repeat slowly. “I want this.” I press my hand to his chest, then slide it up over his shoulder and to the back of his neck. Tentatively, I lean back in. “Please,” I whisper against his lips.
He doesn’t stop me when I kiss him again, but he doesn’t kiss me back. I press my lips to his, then to the corner of his mouth. His jaw. His cheek. And then I make my way back to his mouth.
That’s when my world is flipped upside down. My back is on the couch, and Harmon is on top of me, his hard cock pressed against mine, his firm body settled between my legs, one hand gripping my hips, bruising my skin.
“How do you do this?” he mutters, his mouth going to my neck.
“I didn’t do anything,” I pant, turning my head to the side and allowing him more room.
“You make me want you. Make me… break the rules,” he complains but does nothing to stop. If anything, he’s moving faster. His lips dragging along my skin, tongue tasting and teeth nipping.
“Let me taste you,” I beg. “Please. I promise you won’t regret it.”
He pulls back, looking down at me. I see him warring with himself, and I’m certain he’s going to stop. He’s going to pull back and tell me this is too much, I’m drunk, and tell me to go to bed.
“No,” he says. Disappointment washes over me like a wave. “If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it right.”
“What does that mean?” I breathe out.
“Have you been with anyone since you started working for me?”
Strange how he can simply state that I work for him. Even now. Of course, I ignore that though, because who the fuck cares?
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. I swear.”
He sits back on his knees and yanks on his tie until it’s off and he tosses it away. “Neither have I.”
His hands go to the button on my slacks and he flicks it open, tugging my pants down to free my dick before I can say a word.
“So beautiful,” he murmurs before he looks me in the eye and says, “Get up and get naked.”
I scramble off the couch and do exactly as he said.
I thought I was drunk before, I’ve somehow sobered up like my brain knows it doesn’t want to miss this.
As I work on getting naked, Harmon does the same, leaving nothing but his black boxer briefs on which I swear he did on purpose so I can’t see him.
I’ve never seen him naked before, and I want to know what his cock looks like. I bet it’s wonderful.
I can see the rest of him though, and holy fuck, this man is so hot.
I’ve seen him in a suit, in his normal clothes, and in pajamas, but I’ve never seen this much of him.
He’s not built like an athlete, but he’s toned in all the right spots with beautiful curves and the perfect amount of hair covering his chest and firm stomach.
His arms and legs are the most toned, like he runs and does pushups or something.
He sits back on the couch and pats his lap, so I climb over him, resting my hands on his shoulders to steady myself.
He holds his hand up to my mouth. I know what he wants without having to ask, so I spit into his palm and his hand slides around me, finding my hole like a pro, spreading my spit over it before pushing a finger inside.
I jerk forward, hissing, my nails digging into his skin.
“You better not come,” he says.
“I’ll try,” I grit out, squeezing my eyes shut as he fucks my hole, stretching me to make room for another finger.
“We don’t have any lube. Are you sure you still want this?” he growls.
“Fuck… yes.”
This man could tear me in two and I’d say thank you as I bled out on the floor.
“Can I… can I touch you?” I ask as I ride his fingers.
“No.”
I whine, holding onto him tighter, needing something to do or grab onto so I don’t come. Because I want to. I’m so close and I bet he knows it too.
“Fuck, Harmon—”
He shoves another finger inside me, pressing against my prostate, which has my dick leaking.
“Feed it to me,” he growls.
I glance down, looking at the streak of precum dangling from the tip of my dick. With trembling fingers, I gather it and slip my fingers into his mouth. He sucks them clean, which does me no fucking favors. It only makes me think of him sucking my dick, begging for me cum, which—
“Fuck!” I cry out as the orgasm hits me, my dick throbbing and spilling cum all over him. White ropes land across his chest and stomach. It feels never ending.
“Oh, you little brat,” he growls.
“I’m s-sorry.”
“You will be.”
He pulls his fingers from my hole, making me whimper. He scoops the cum from his stomach and chest, his other hand shoving down his briefs to free his cock.
His thick and veiny cock that has me drooling.
He smears my cum all over his dick.
“Sit on it,” he says. “Right now. You don’t get any more prep.”
I move forward, lining myself up with his cock and sinking down about an inch before I have to readjust.
“You’re still hard,” he says in a taunting, almost degrading, tone. “If you come again without my command, you will be in trouble.”
“Okay,” I grit out, all my attention on the way his dick is filling me up, inch by inch. When I’m finally seated fully on him, I’m not sure I can move. I’ve never had something so big inside me before.
Harmon wraps his arms around me, pulling me to him so our chests are touching. His mouth is on my neck, hand gripping my hair, and tugging as he thrusts his hips up, groaning into my ear.
I don’t do much other than exist in bliss and find something to hold onto as he uses my body, rutting into me, seeking his pleasure. Harmon Stone using me to get off is by far the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced.
He groans these ragged breathy sounds that have my stomach in fluttery knots. I am going to come again if he doesn’t calm down.
“Touch yourself, Cassius,” he breathes out. “I want your cum in my mouth.”
Holy fuck…
I do as he says, stroking my dick with full intentions of coming immediately because he wants it.
It doesn’t take long. A minute maybe. I erupt again, spilling all over him, and I don’t need him to tell me to feed it to him this time.
I gather it up and shove my fingers into his mouth.
It’s messy, dripping down his chin, but his tongue darts out to lick it up.
He sucks my fingers, moaning as he thrusts up into me one more time, his huge cock throbbing inside me.
I feel the heat of his cum, feel it spilling out, while his heart thunders under my palm, his teeth sinking into my knuckles.
When his eyes open, I know I’m staring at him like a deer in headlights.
I’m prepared for him to freak out, tell me to go to bed, that this was a mistake. Maybe even leave or send me home. But all he does is pull me to him and run his fingers through my hair.
“You were such a good boy,” he says through heavy breaths. “Such a good boy.”