Chapter 16
Riley
Happiness washed over me when Mr. Steele groaned and nodded. I knelt between his legs, not caring that the hardwood bit into my knees as I unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his pants. I tugged teasingly at his zipper, pulling it down slowly as he stared at me with a glittering, hot gaze.
He lifted his hips and working together, we pushed and pulled his pants and briefs down his legs. His cock popped free, and I left his pants pooled at his ankles, too eager to get my hands and my mouth on the most beautiful dick I’d ever seen.
His soft moan when I gripped the base of his cock made my pussy flutter, and I gave him a long, firm stroke, rubbing my thumb over the wide head when I reached it. He sucked in a harsh breath, his fingers digging into his thighs, and his gaze narrowed in on my hand. I stroked him firmly, admiring the velvet softness of his skin. He was long and thick, bigger than anyone I’d been with in the past, and my pussy clenched with need at the thought of trying to take him.
You don’t get to fuck him.
Disappointment washed over me, so intense and heavy that it was impossible to pretend I didn’t feel it. Just a few short weeks ago, I’d been horrified at the thought of fucking a man for money, and now I was disappointed I wasn’t allowed to.
My hand slowed as I tried to process this new emotion. Mr. Steele was clear about his no intercourse rule, so even if I changed mine, it still wouldn’t happen.
Change it? Why would you change it? My inner voice sounded a little panicked.
Do you not see this magnificent dick in front of us?
“Charlotte?”
I looked up at Mr. Steele. With a weirdly worried look, he said, “If you’ve changed your mind, that’s fine. We can stop.”
“What? No,” I said quickly. “I don’t want to stop.”
I stared at my hand that had, in fact, stopped. Smiling at him, I rubbed him briskly, twisting my wrist as I worked my way down his shaft.
He groaned, his hips bucking, and a bead of precum appeared at the slit. I ignored the sliver of apprehension working its way up my spine. I hated the taste of cum, but there was no way in hell I’d let Mr. Steele even suspect that. I needed to be his good girl tonight, and a good girl didn’t have a problem with bad tasting cum in her mouth.
I leaned forward. My tits brushing against his bare thighs made him groan again, and I wrapped my lips around the head of his cock and licked clean the precum that now slicked the entire head. My eyes widened, and I stared up at him as I released him with a soft pop.
Concern flickered across his face, and he cupped my face, his thumb rubbing lightly across my lip. “What’s wrong? Did you hurt your lip?”
I shook my head, my amazement making me blurt out, “You don’t taste bad.”
He blinked at me. “Okay?”
“Before you… it was… I mean, it normally tastes bad, so I thought you would, too, but you don’t. You taste… oh God, what am I doing?” I groaned inwardly as he grinned. I was making a fool of myself.
Embarrassed and desperate to make him forget how ridiculous I was, I took him deep into my mouth, nearly gagging myself on his length but pulling back in time to save me from that embarrassment.
“Fuck!” His deep voice rang out in the office, and his hands curled in my hair when I gripped his base and sucked hard, hollowing my cheeks.
“Fuck, Charlotte… oh fuuuck,” he moaned, his hips arching.
Delighted by his reaction, I sucked enthusiastically, using plenty of tongue and stroking the base as I sucked him. He pulled my hair back into a loose ponytail. “Look at me.”
I stared up at him, my pussy clenching uselessly around nothing when he said, “You’re so beautiful, Charlotte. Can you take more of me?”
I nodded around his cock and did my best to relax my throat as I slid more of him into my mouth.
“Good,” he moaned, his hands gripping my hair as he used it to guide me back and forth over his dick. “Stay nice and still while I fuck your mouth. Can you do that for me, good girl?”
I made a soft sound of assent, and he ran his thumb over my cheekbone. “That’s my good girl, sweet Charlotte.”
His praise warmed me from the inside out, and I stared up at him as, his hips thrusting and his hands holding me tight, he fucked my mouth with long, deep strokes. He kept up a stream of praise mixed with dirty talk, and with every ‘you’re so beautiful,’ ‘you look so fucking pretty sucking my cock’, ‘you’re my good girl,’ the anxiety and stress that had a stranglehold on me chipped away.
I lost track of time and no longer noticed how sore my lip and my knees were. I let myself float on the delicious taste of Mr. Steele’s cock, on the praise that fell from his lips, on the look of approval and affection on his face.
His thrusts were slowing now, his breath growing harsher, and groans and quiet moans replacing his words. I sucked a little harder and cupped his heavy balls. They twitched in my hand, and he cried out when I gently squeezed them before giving them a light tug.
“Fuck, baby,” he groaned. “I want to come in your mouth. Will you be my good girl and swallow my cum?”
I pulled off long enough to give him a hoarse, “Yes, Mr. Steele.”
He moaned, his hand cupping the back of my head and urging me back onto his cock. I went willingly, sucking hard as I played with his balls and kept my gaze planted on his face. His pupils had blown wide, making it nearly impossible to see where they ended, and his dark irises began. A frantic look of need on his face, he pumped rapidly into my mouth and made a hoarse shout.
Warm liquid filled my mouth, and I swallowed and swallowed and swallowed again, trying to take everything he gave me as my pussy throbbed and ached and demanded to be filled. His body shaking, he emptied himself into my mouth, his fingers holding my hair tightly before he collapsed against the couch.
“Holy fuck, baby,” he whispered.
I clenched my thighs together, dismay washing over me when Mr. Steele’s phone alarm went off. Our play session was over, and I would have to go home and masturbate if I wanted an orgasm.
Mr. Steele grabbed his phone from the side table and shut off the alarm as I climbed to my feet. I smiled at him, hoping my disappointment wasn’t written all over my face. “Good night, Mr. Steele.”
He grabbed my wrist and growled, “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Our session is over,” I said.
“Straddle me,” he demanded.
“Mr. Steele, I -”
“Do as I say, Charlotte.”
Disobeying him wasn’t even an option for me. I straddled his bare thighs, crying out when he cupped my breasts and sucked hard on my right nipple and then my left. I gripped his shoulders, gasping and moaning as he teased me with hard sucks and licks.
“Unbutton your pants,” he muttered against my breast.
My shaky fingers struggled to unbutton them, and he nipped at the underside of my breast before giving my ass a hard spank. “Obey me, baby.”
“I’m trying,” I whimpered.
I finally got the button undone and zipper down, crying out when Mr. Steele immediately stuck his hand into my pants and rubbed my clit with rough circles. I rocked against his fingers, gasping when he slid them along my slit and then thrust two fingers into my tight core.
“Fuck my fingers, baby,” he said. “Ride my hand like the good girl you are.”
I moaned his name before doing what he asked, thrusting myself down over and over on his fingers. I clenched around him, tamping down my urge to beg him for his cock. His fingers weren’t enough, not long enough, not thick enough. I needed more.
“Please,” I whined, “I need…”
He gripped the back of my neck with his free hand, pulling me in close. I rubbed my tits against his chest, the rough hair teasing my sensitive nipples as he kissed me and said, “What do you need, baby? This?”
He curled his fingers inside of me and pressed hard against my g-spot. Hot fire raced through my veins, and I shrieked his name as I came in a haze of hot bliss. I shook against him, clutching frantically at his shoulders as my climax went on and on until I collapsed in a boneless, moaning mess against his chest.
Mr. Steele pulled his hand out of my pants and wrapped both arms around me. I clung to him, listening to his soft words of praise and enjoying the warmth of his hands as he rubbed my back.
I had no idea how long we sat together on the couch, but I was almost dozing when Mr. Steele shifted below me and helped me to sit up before sliding me off his lap and onto the sofa beside him.
I yawned, my entire body like a wet noodle, as I watched Mr. Steele stand and pull up his pants. He put on his shirt but didn’t bother to button it before glancing at the clock on the wall.
Shit! I sat up in a hurry and pulled on my shirt before standing. It was half an hour past our scheduled two hours, and while I appreciated that Mr. Steele hadn’t sent me home without making me climax first, lounging around on his furniture like I was his damn girlfriend or something was ridiculous and a little humiliating.
“Sorry,” I said as I smoothed my hair and buttoned and zipped my pants.
“For what?” he asked.
“Keeping you longer than our scheduled two hours,” I said. I hurried for the office door. “We missed a chunk of it, though, because of my meltdown, so we’ll just call it two hours, okay?”
“Charlotte, you don’t -”
His phone rang, and he glanced at it, frustration crossing his face. “I have to take this.”
“Right, okay. Have a nice evening, Mr. Steele. Thank you for… everything.”
“Charlotte,” his phone rang again, but he ignored it, “I won’t be booking you for Sunday.”
My stomach dropped, and he must have seen the misery on my face because he said quickly, “Because I have prior plans that can’t be changed.”
“Oh, okay,” I said. “Thank you for letting me know. Maybe I’ll see you next week, then?”
“You will,” he said.
I left his office, the pleasure from my orgasm gone and my disappointment so thick that I could practically taste it in the air. I wouldn’t see Mr. Steele for an entire week. I wouldn’t get to be his good girl for seven whole days.
I closed the bathroom door, leaning briefly against it before I reached for my bra and panties. Why did that thought upset me so much?