Prologue #2
I make a note to buy a few push-up bras and maybe not button my shirt so high.
“Don’t you dare hide these from me again,” he says, bending to suck a puckered nipple into his greedy mouth as his hand slides into my underwear and parts my pussy. “Already so wet for me.”
After just a few quick swipes along my pussy, he brings his wet fingers up and coats my other nipple with my juices before gorging on it.
I cry out in pleasure, pulling his head against my breast. He chuckles, his hand returning to my pussy.
I’ve never had an orgasm before, but I can feel one building, growing bigger, threatening to sweep me away.
“More!” I blurt, afraid he’ll take the addictive sensations away.
“How much you want, baby?”
Do I tell him I’m a virgin? I’m twenty-one, so he’d probably think something was wrong with me.
“Come on, Penny—I need to hear you say it.”
I close my eyes and bury my face in his neck. “I want you to fuck me!”
I sound absolutely pathetic.
“You should address me properly, Ms. Green.” Greyson’s voice is firm and demanding.
Holy hell, even his words are enough to damn near push me over the edge.
“Say it for me, Ms. Green.”
“Mr. Prosper, I want you to fuck me.”
He chuckles. “Where?”
“What do you mean, where?”
“Do you want me to fuck these big titties?” he says and laps at my breasts. “Or the sweet, sweet kitty you have between your thighs.”
Kitty?
I decide I like the word as it makes me feel more comfortable.
“Fuck my kitty.”
“Say please.”
“Please fuck my kitty, Mr. Prosper.”
“See, was that so hard?”
He removes my boots and rips my pants and panties the rest of the way off. Then he pats his desk.
“Sit.”
I obey, taking in the sight of him seated in his work chair, dick in hand.
“Spread your legs, Ms. Green.”
“Yes, Mr. Prosper.” I spread my knees as far apart as I can, baring myself for him.
“Fuck, you’re pretty,” he growls, his hand riding up and down his shaft. Without warning, he bends and licks straight up my slit.
Gasping, I try to close my legs, but he presses my inner thighs apart, refusing to let me be shy.
And thank God for that, because nothing has ever felt so sinfully good before.
He groans as he gorges on me, his tongue licking and lapping my folds, teasing me into a frenzy. I grab his hair to hold him in place, which makes him chuckle.
“Please, Mr. Prosper!” I beg.
He withdraws. “Please, what?”
“Let me come.” I hate that I can’t hide the desperation from my voice.
“Alright, Ms. Green.” He gives my clit a long suck, circling my clit with the tip of his tongue, and I see stars.
I ride the high of my first orgasm, letting wave after wave of pleasure crash through me until my bones feel like jelly.
Afterward, Greyson rises to a stand, his stubble still wet from his feast.
“I’m going to fuck you now, Ms. Green, if it’s all right with you.”
I nod. “Please.”
He pushes some books off the desk and presses me onto my back. Then, he brings his cock to my core, notching his flared head at the entrance.
I whimper, more than a little scared that it’ll hurt.
“Damn, you’re everything I’d dreamed you would be,” he rasps.
He dreamt of me?
He swipes his cock up and down my seam, wetting the head. The sensations are so powerful; I grow dizzy, and just when I’m about to beg him to hurry, he surges forward, into me.
I feel a sharp, snapping pain and cry out. He pauses, and I flex my pussy, feeling relieved at the tingling of pleasure.
I buck up gently, and he pushes into me again, driving in so hard, my breasts bounce around my chest.
I try to cover them, but he grabs my wrists and pins them to my side.
“Never hide yourself from me again,” he growls, rutting into me with hard, savage strokes.
I nod, lost in the moment, chasing the rekindled pleasure that’s now stirring in rhythm with his thrusts.
It doesn’t take long until I’m coming again, and as I do, I feel Greyson’s thick cock spasming inside me.
And that’s when it hits me.
He didn’t wear a condom.
For some sick reason, I don’t care.
After what feels like a rollercoaster ride, the throb weakens, eventually ceasing. Greyson pulls out and falls back into his chair.
For a long moment, I remain on the desk, replaying in my head what just happened. When I come to my senses and start to slide off, Greyson stops me, grabbing a small broom to sweep away the glass shards.
“S-s-sorry about that,” he says, slurring his words.
It’s then that I remember he was halfway to being drunk.
I gather my clothes, but as I’m finishing buttoning up my shirt, Duke storms in.
“What the hell are you doing, Grey?” he shouts, pausing when he sees me. His jaw drops, his head tilting to the side.
I turn, finish getting dressed, and rush to rejoin the party.
For the next several hours, I tend to the event, avoiding Duke because he most certainly knows what happened between me and Grey, who doesn’t leave his office for the rest of the night.
It isn’t until morning that my job is complete. I’m able to return to my room, but before I do, I decide to meet with Greyson to clear the air.
As I approach his office, I see a petite woman in a purple dress exiting, turning before she leaves. I duck into the shadows and watch as Greyson approaches her.
I remember her from the party because she was sweeter than most of the women who wear fancy Hollywood clothes.
She places her hands on Greyson’s chest and tilts her head up, expecting a kiss.
Feeling sick, I turn, pressing my eyes closed as I try to get my emotions under control.
“Greyson. I promise you, I’m gonna make a damn fine Mrs. Prosper,” she says with a light chuckle.
To which Greyson replies, “We’ll see about that.”