Chapter 4
4
Fletcher
W ith any other woman I would’ve smirked and made a quip at the look on her face when she caught sight of the monster residing in my pants.
But even the tiniest idea that my size would scare Emily off had me scrambling to find soothing, coaxing words to keep her right where she’d willingly placed herself.
Fuck, the woman I’d craved for forever was on her knees before me. Staring at my dick like she was about to scream.
“Hey, baby, we don’t have to…” Shut the fuck up, Fletch! Don’t you dare say we don’t have to do anything . I cleared my throat. “We’ll go slow, okay?” Not the greatest, but better.
Sexy blue eyes darted from my face to my dick. Which bobbed as if urging her to agree.
She licked her lips, and dammit, pre-cum surged from my tip. And maybe that wasn’t a bad thing because she gave a sexy little moan.
And she reached for it, wrapping her hand around my eager length and squeezing, squeezing, squeezing .
“Fuck yes, just like that.” I hoped she would take me in her mouth eventually, but this was a fantastic start.
When I managed to pry open eyes that seemed to keep shutting, she looked less alarmed as she parted her lips and slowly slid me into her mouth.
“Your mouth feels so good, baby,” I encouraged some more.
Her sweet smile told me she loved the praise. I fully intended to shower her with bucketloads.
“Take me deeper,” I begged. Then sighed when she did. “Good girl. Such a good girl,” I crooned.
She worked me in, licked, sucked hard, made me see stars. But she didn’t take me anywhere near as deep as I wanted. She couldn’t.
I was big.
And she was…inexperienced. And fuck, every time that registered, my dick just swelled harder.
I was a fucking Neanderthal, delighted at the idea of an untried young girl being all mine.
“Deeper,” I begged, and God bless her, she opened wider, until the base of my corona touched the back of her tongue. Her faint gag made my balls tighten.
I started to withdraw, but she made a sound of protest, her warm, beautiful mouth sucking me back in.
“You sure?”
Her head bobbed, her tongue lashing the thick veins before she lunged again, meeting my helpless thrust. She gagged again, but fuck, she kept going like a champ, wetness spiking her lashes as she gorged herself on my cock.
“Relax your throat for me, baby. Take a deep breath and let me in.”
Her eyes met mine and I was a complete bastard for loving the flash of wariness before she stilled, then completely relaxed her mouth.
I pushed, pushed, pushed . Groaned deep when I felt the back of her throat. “There you go. That feels so good. So fucking incredible.”
I stayed until she started to wriggle, then reluctantly pulled back. But surprising me again, she sucked in a breath and lunged. And fuck if my gorgeous little paralegal wasn’t high on sucking my cock.
Knowing I was cresting the point of no return, I spiked my fingers into her hair to keep her head from banging on the glass, then I went for it, fucking her mouth in deep, long strokes, holding myself where I loved her mouth most.
Until slim, cool fingers cupped my balls.
“Oh fuck. Yes, baby. Here I come. Tap my leg if you want me to withd?—”
She was shaking her head even before I finished, the blue-eyed glare telling me not to dare.
And with that, the last pillar of control collapsed.
Throwing my head back, I came down my obsession's throat, cursing and hissing my way to my first non-masturbatory climax in three years.
She gagged, moaned, wriggled, but Emily Hartley stayed on my dick until my balls were empty and my legs felt like fresh noodles.
I managed to look down when thought staggered back into my brain. To find her staring up at me, lips red and eyes sparkling.
“Was that okay, Mr. Knight?”
A laugh barked out and I shook my head in wonder and delight.
Emily
I was fairly certain the outer window was made of one-way glass and I didn’t fully recall if Fletcher had locked his office doors.
But in that moment, I didn’t care.
I may have been on my knees, but for ten blazing minutes, the superhot and mighty, Fletcher Knight, praising and begging in equal measure, had been putty in my hands.
I would’ve gleefully Lewinksy’d my career just for the chance to keep lapping that heady feeling like I lapped his cum.
And when we were done, and his hand brushed my cheek in that gentle move I was growing stupidly addicted to? When he said, “That was incredible, baby. So fucking worth the wait,” unbridled pride filled my chest.
A slow caress of his thumb across my mouth intensified the need prowling through me now. His eyes, not quite restored to their steady grey, went a little wild as his nostrils flared.
“And now it’s my turn to taste you.” The pure relish in his voice thickened my desire, made my pussy clench so hard I gasped.
Grew pliant in his arms as he stepped back and hefted me up like I weighed nothing and marched us to his desk.
He set me on the edge of it, then, confirming my suspicion, picked up the remote and aimed at the door. At the click of the lock, my eyes widened.
He laughed, a sound I was discovering I liked. A lot.
“I know, baby. I couldn’t have stopped if the earth was eating itself, but I sure as fuck would’ve fired anyone who’d dared to interrupt us.”
From my experience of working for Fletcher, I knew the threat wasn’t idle.
He’d once fired an intern for being five minutes late to a deposition. Another for being sloppy on the firm’s dress code. Rumor had it he did that to keep his employees on their toes.
A little harsh, maybe, but it was damned effective.
Another rumor I’d heard was that at the last partner’s meeting, they’d raked in over two billion in revenue and there was almost two thousand interns, associates and other high-level attorneys across the country vying to work for Knight, Randall & Associates.
Which kinda made my Lewinsky moment all the more crazy. But like he’d just said, I couldn’t have stopped if the world was ending. And I definitely didn’t stop now as he planted his hand on my belly and pushed me back onto his desk.
I watched him watch me, rake me with those molten eyes from head to toe. “You look so fucking exquisite spread out on my desk.”
My hands twitched with nerves and needs. Now I wasn’t performing the incredible task of sucking my boss’s dick, I was floundering on what to do with myself.
He solved that easily by yanking up my skirt, his eyes not leaving mine as he dragged down the brand new panties I’d worn especially to mark this occasion.
Did I know I would end up here when I pulled the tags off the hideously expensive La Senza lingerie this morning? Hell, no. But had I hoped for it with every atom of my being? Hell yes.
And the look in his eyes when he saw the scrap of moss green lace, dotted with tiny crystalized pink bows, was everything.
The cock he hadn’t fully tucked away jerked to life and began to swell. Eyes shutting—an act I was discovering I really liked watching because it was great insight to the depth of his feelings—he brought the lace to his face and inhaled long and deep. “Fuck.”
Dropping his hand, he shoved my panties into his breast pocket. “If you taste even half as amazing as you smell, I’m going to lose my fucking mind,” he rasped.
Then Fletcher Knight shoved my skirt to my waist and dropped to his knees.
He was tall enough to easily slot head and shoulders between my open thighs to rest elbows on the desk. Heat flared through me at how exposed I was in the blazing sun streaming in, and under his feverish gaze.
For an age, he stared down at my pussy, his tongue repeatedly drifting across his lower lip, then he looked up. “Such a fucking pretty pussy. God, you’re perfect, Emily.”
“Th—tha…ah!” Fletcher licked me from taint to clit, and my brain fritzed, thankfully , because it felt a little silly to thank him for complimenting my pussy. The same way I’d felt self-conscious when complimented about my beauty. I hadn’t created it myself. Components of my parents' DNA were responsible for— “Oh God!”
My back arched off the table when his tongue swiped me again, lingering to flick here and there, before he groaned like he was being tortured.
“Christ, I knew it. Holy shit, Emily!” He fell on me, his hands like steel bands around my thighs as he slurped me with decadent licks that had me twitching and jerking on his desk.
Like before, Fletcher was lavish and unfettered with his praise. And his dirty talk repeatedly sent waves of heat to my face as he French-kissed my labia, then drilled his tongue into my needy hole.
I barely felt my fingers tunnel into his hair, but he apparently loved that too, because his head jerked up, eyes gone slate dark spearing me.
“That’s it, baby. Pull my hair. Scratch me. I want your marks all over my body by the time we’re done, because I intend to do the same to you,” he growled, then swooped between my legs again.
And this time he really went for broke, the tip of his tongue flicking lightning fast over my clit, he slid one finger, then two into my wet channel, fingering me with sublime strokes that made stars race across my vision.
“Fletcher!”
“Yes, baby. Fuck, you’re so wet. So tight,” he muttered. “I can’t wait to feel you wrapped around my cock.”
He stroked faster, his clever fingers locating that place I’ve only ever rarely found when I used my toys. With a grunt of triumph, he zeroed in on the spot. Stroke stroke stroke.
My thighs quaked as tension gathered in my pelvis. As flames danced over my skin, ready to engulf me.
Stroke stroke stroke. “Fletcher, oh God, that feels…ooooh!”
“Come for me. I’ve waited so long. Show me, baby,” he growled.
I shattered with a sharp cry, barely managing to catch it before Fletcher’s hand clamped over my mouth as I rode his face and came harder than I’ve ever believed possible.
Minutes stretched out my unending orgasm and I blinked, a little terrified my heart was going to explode out of my chest.
If I’d thought Fletcher would be seeking to smugly self-congratulate and leave me alone to clean myself up, I was mistaken.
He remained firmly planted between my thighs, his tongue gently lapping me up, avoiding my sensitized clit but showing no signs of moving.
When I found the energy to lift my head, his hooded gaze was waiting for me, pinning me with a hint of disapproval as he lifted his hand off my mouth. “No one gets to hear how you sound when you come, baby. Those glorious noises are for my ears only, understood?”
My gaze darted to the door and I cringed a little before nodding.
“Good.” He lapped me up with another satisfied grunt, then kissing my thigh, he surged to his feet. Braced his hands on either side of me and gazed into my eyes. “God, you’re beautiful.”
I was too boneless to squirm under his ferocious stare, but not too much to resist lifting my hand to trace his jaw and mouth still glistening with my juices. He allowed it for all of ten seconds, before he was swooping down, fusing his lips to mine, brazenly showing me how I tasted.
My legs, not quite touching the floor and a little uncomfortable now my senses were coming back to me, lifted to and wrap around his waist.
He made a sound of deep approval and the cock he hadn’t fully zipped up slid between my legs, a live, hot monster seeking to annihilate me.
I gasped against his lips.
He lifted up and one eyebrow rose.
“I’m going to fuck you now, Emily. Right here on my desk where I’ve imagined slamming into that pretty little cunt a million times. Say ‘Yes, Fletcher.’”
Need swirled, immediately and mighty, and my hands tightened on the rock-solid pecs I clung to. “Yes, Fletcher.”
“Such a good girl,” he crooned.
Still looking into my eyes, he rolled his hips, wetting the underside of his beautiful dick with my slickness. Making my breath catch all over again.
“You’re on birth control.” It didn’t sound like a question, more like an observation. But then something flickered through his eyes. “Aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“And you know I had a physical three weeks ago.” Again, it wasn’t not a question.
His doctor’s appointment—a mandatory requirement by all senior partners to ensure they stayed in optimal condition—had been slotted into an already heaving schedule that day.
Fletcher had decided we could get some work done on the way to his doctor’s office in between court appearances, so I accompanied him. And he’d stunned me into speechlessness when the results had come through three hours later, and he’d asked me to read it out loud to him as he perused a file. Right here in his office.
So I knew without a shadow of a doubt that Fletcher Knight had a clean bill of health, including a body mass index that would make most men weep with envy.
And I secretly stalked him long enough to know he hadn’t dated anyone in all the time I’d worked here.
When I nodded, his eyes dropped to my mouth, one hand going to my blouse to slowly pull the ties. When they unraveled, he deftly freed the buttons, one after the other. Baring my throat, then chest, the feral look building to insane levels when he saw the matching bra.
“My sweet, delightful creature. Is all of this for me?”
“Do you like it?”
“Fuck like. I absolutely love it.” He rolled his hips once more. “Can’t you tell?”
I opened my mouth, but the words garbled when he pushed down one cup and latched onto my nipple, rolling, teasing, biting it until hoarse cries built in my throat once more.
Recalling his admonishing about making too much noise, I clamped my lips between my teeth. But that drew a frown from him.
Without releasing my nipple, his free hand brushed my mouth until I released my lip, then he rubbed the soreness away, before thrusting one finger into my mouth.
He licked my nipple as I licked his finger, then we both sucked on each other at the same time, in perfect, filthy rhythm.
Pleasure spiked higher, making me wetter.
Fletcher moved to my twin nipple, lavished it with equal attention until I was arching again, need clamoring wild and relentless.
He rose onto his elbows having finished undoing my blouse. A drunken glance down showed my reddened nipples, the skin surrounding them faintly red too with his stubble. He slid his finger from my mouth with a pop and a string of saliva followed to one tight peak. We both groaned as he rubbed it over first one, then the other.
Then his eyes going even wilder, his breaths slightly panting, Fletcher reached between us and notched his wide crown at my entrance.
“Are you my good girl, Emily? Because it’s going to be a tight fit. But you’ll try for me, won’t you?” he demanded, part plea, part command.
“Yes, I…I’ll try—oh!”
His first thrust was all pain, little pleasure. I felt crammed and I knew there was more to come. I only realized I was trying to unentangle myself from him when Fletcher hissed and grabbed my hip.
“No, baby. Please, no. I need you. Shh, it’ll get better, I promise,” he said, his voice an urgent, frantic plea as he held me in place, his eyes rushing feverishly over my face. My chest. His nostrils pinched as he slowly pushed back in.
And my heart knocked a wild drumbeat against my ribs, eager to escape?—
Wait. The knock wasn’t inside me. It was from?—
“Fuck off,” Fletcher snarled, his head snapping to the door before he snapped back to me.
The only person Fletcher Knight showed a modicum of deference to was Chester Randall, the semi-retired seventy-two-year-old man who’d started this firm. Everyone else was cannon fodder if they so much as stepped a toe out of line.
I prayed whoever had interrupted him never admitted to it because they would be dead.
Then I prayed for something else altogether when he pulled out and pushed back in. I prayed for deliverance. For…for…for… “Oh God, you’re so big,” I gasped. The burn was crazy, and I doubted I could stretch my pussy enough to take all of him.
“You’re doing so good, baby,” he crooned. His hand slipped between us and rubbed my clit, and the burn eased. “There you go,” he praised. “Such a good, clever girl, taking me inside this heavenly pussy.”
With each roll of his hips, he wedged another inch inside me until I was so full I swore I felt him at the back of my throat.
Fletcher stopped then, his breaths panting, his eyes feral. “Fuck, Emily. Fuck .” Still keeping me locked tight in place, his shaft throbbing urgently inside me, he started to move.
And pleasure slowly, excruciatingly took over from discomfort, Fletcher Knight teaching me that a stupidly monstrous dick was worth taking with patience and expertise.
He fucked me slow and steady, his eyes devouring my every gasp and twitch. The second he spotted my shift into full pleasure, his demeanor changed, driven by purpose.
To drive me out of my mind.
He fucked me until my keening whimpers threatened to turn into tiny screams. Then he stopped, glared down at me until I begged quieter.
Then he started again.
And again.
And again.
Sweat dripped down his temples, waves of his hair flopping over his forehead. Fletcher hadn’t taken off a single item of clothing to fuck me and it was still the hottest thing I’d ever experienced.
“I’m coming,” I whispered, reverent in this beautifully filthy moment. “I’m…God, I’m coming.”
“Yes. With me, baby.” He slammed harder inside me and cursed. “I wanted so badly to make this last, but you’ve made it impossible, haven’t you? The way your ridiculously sublime pussy is squeezing me so damn tight, I don’t even remember my name? I can’t…I won’t…ah, fuck!”
He pistoned inside me and that edge of pain roared back. But pleasure met it, conquered it, and the combination sent me spiraling.
I was grateful he had the wherewithal to clamp his hand over my mouth again because I couldn’t have stopped my scream if my life depended on it.
My climax rolled over me in hundred-foot waves, sucking the breath from lungs. The spasms in my pussy felt like wild zaps of electricity I never wanted to escape from.
Above me, Fletcher tensed, then a low, animalistic growl erupted, unending as he shuddered through his own release.
I felt him flood me. Overflow. Leak to my butt before dripping and I knew we’d made a puddle on the floor.
He didn’t care and neither did I.
His head dropped to my chest as the last of the convulsions shook through us. I was still panting when he spoke.
“I had it all planned out. Dinner tonight at Strada. Dessert at that Japanese ice cream place you seem to like for reasons that escape me.”
I let out the smallest giggle my depleted lungs could manage. “It’s an acquired taste, I know.”
“One I won’t be acquiring anytime soon, I’ll tell you that much.”
“Noted. But why are you telling me about plans that can still happen?” I asked, hoping I’d done my level best to disguise my glee at the thought that Fletcher had planned his afternoon and evening with me in mind.
He raised his head, and his eyes were filled with such glorious satiation, I couldn’t help myself. I brushed back the hair dangling over his forehead so I could see those sexy eyes better.
“Because no fucking way am I sitting through a dinner without tackling you and begging for another go at this pussy.”
My grin slipped free then.
And something else.
That vault I’d kept locked tight cracked open wider.
“So?”
“So I’m going to take you home. And when you’ve recovered a little, I’m going to fuck you again. Then I’ll offer Tony Strada an irresistible freebie to make an exception and send a delivery to my place.”
I nodded sagely. “A freebie from the best lawyer in the country is worth its weight in gold. He’d be a fool to refuse you.”
“I agree.” His eyes sharpened. “You didn’t object to my plan, so I take it you’ll come home with me?”
I was convinced very few people had ever heard this pleading tone from Fletcher Knight. Every time he used it, I felt as if I’d won the Powerball.
“You’ve tempted me with a meal from a three-Michelin-star restaurant, Fletcher. I, too, would be a fool to refuse.”
“And the fucking. Don’t forget the hours and hours of fucking, Emily,” he rasped.
A thrill shivered through me. “I haven’t. I’d say it was the icing on the cake but that would be wrong. It’s the cake, the icing and the cherry on top. So take me home please, Mr. Knight.”