Chapter 10
Bex
S tanding between Corey and the one-way mirror, it feels like there’s a current running between us. Knowing there are hundreds of people on the other side who can’t see us, lost in the electric charge of their own movements… I swallow hard as Corey’s gaze burns through me.
Just as swiftly as the energy is electrified, it fizzles as Corey’s expression falls. He steps back slightly, running a hand over his face, then through his hair. We both speak at once.
“Sorry, that was—”
“No—”
“Out of line—”
“Corey—”
“Shouldn’t have—”
“Corey!” I say loudly, but without quite shouting. It gets his attention, and he pauses, concern etched on his face. “Please, don’t apologize.” I take a deep breath and slip my tiny crossbody purse off my shoulder, tossing it onto a nearby couch.
Corey tilts his head, tracking the movement of the purse as it lands on the couch, then back to me. Concern is slowly being replaced by curiosity in his eyes, and I sense he’s waiting for me to continue.
“I might not have expected… that, precisely. But Corey… I liked that,” I say, licking my lips as nervous anticipation tingles through me.
“I want you to tell me what you were thinking when you hesitated,” he says softly. Despite how close we were to staggering over a precipice of lust, he puts me at ease so gently. “I… have dominant tendencies. It’s part of who I am,” he explains. “But it’s important to me that you’re okay with that, and that you’re comfortable.”
“I appreciate that so much,” I say, the anxious tremble disappearing from my voice. “I do want this. What gave me pause was…” I trail off, thinking of a few things, but most blatant among them being my lack of preparation.
This is the way my brain works, because the moment he was pressed against me and I felt the heat of his body, the press of his erection… my mind immediately went to the fact that I hadn’t shaved. My legs, sure, but elsewhere… not that I leave myself unkempt, by any means, but my brain goes in wild directions when it’s tainted with nerves and anxiety and, well, I panicked.
Corey reaches out and touches my shoulder, his thumb rubbing reassuring circles against my skin. “It’s okay, you can tell me, Bex,” he says.
“I wasn’t prepared,” I say quietly.
“Mmmm,” he says, nodding his head. “Then we don’t have to—”
“I don’t mind,” I say quickly. I do not want him to change his mind, not after he’s launched my body into this level of heat and desire. “If you don’t.”
His brows furrow in confusion. “But—”
“Jesus, Corey, I didn’t shave. There. I just… wasn’t sure if that would bother you,” I say with a slight huff, fully aware that I must sound desperate or crazy or both.
Corey pauses for a moment before the sexiest grin spreads across his face. “Oh, Bex,” he says, pressing closer against me like we were before. He tilts his head down, pressing his forehead against mine in a move so intimate it steals my breath away. “Any way I can have you, I want you. That kind of stuff is… trivial to me.”
“That’s why I hesitated,” I say. His breath is hot against my face, and the heat of it travels to every inch of me. I’m practically vibrating with need in his arms.
Forehead still pressed to mine, Corey moves his hands from my shoulders, down my arms, to my waist. “Thank you,” he says softly. His hands—goddamn those strong, warm hands, making me feel so safe in this moment—continue moving down, over my hips, cupping my ass and squeezing. “For being honest with me.” He moves one hand to the bare skin of my thigh and I gasp as he moves from the back of my body to the front.
Corey licks his lips, his face so close to mine still. “Bex, may I touch you?”
“Yes, please.” Somehow, I manage to whisper out the words as my entire body clenches with anticipation.
He slips his hand between my thighs, caressing the soft skin there before moving up, so slowly. Too slowly.
“Corey, please.” I am practically begging at this point, with zero shame. This man has me worked up in a way I have never felt in my life.
Corey chuckles and moves his hand up, brushing against the soft material of my panties. This slight touch has us both moaning, and it’s not enough.
“Fuck, Bex, you’re so wet for me,” he says, his eyelids fluttering as he strokes the damp fabric.
“All night. You’ve had me like this all night,” I say, breathlessly echoing his earlier words back to him.
Corey slips his fingers beneath the fabric and grazes softly against my clit, and we both groan again. He drops his head to the crook of my neck as he slides his fingers against me, feeling an almost embarrassing amount of wetness and slickness.
What, exactly, had I been worrying about? Corey is tonguing my neck, one hand still cupping my ass and the other sliding between the wet warmth of my cunt, stopping occasionally to rub soft circles against my clit. He murmurs my name against my skin, and I swear, in this moment, I have never felt more desired.
Abruptly, Corey pulls away, and I almost whimper at the loss of his touch. He’s breathing hard as he brings his hand—the one that had been stroking me, that has a shimmer of my wetness on his fingers—to his mouth. My core clenches as he slips those wet fingers between his lips, sucking them clean.
This man is going to ruin me. And I’m going to let him, because it’s going to feel so fucking good.
“Bex,” he murmurs. “Nothing would give me greater pleasure than getting on my knees for you.”
My pulse pounds in my clit. “Right here? Now? ”
“Anywhere, but especially right now. I am dying to taste more of you, Bex, and I am not above begging.”
Swallowing hard, I nod. “Then, yes. Please.”
Corey grins like the Cheshire Cat, taking a moment to roll up the sleeves of his shirt, exposing those muscular, thick forearms. His eyes darken with lust as he says, “Now be a good girl, turn around, and put your hands on the glass.”
My heart is going to beat out of my chest. As I turn to face the glass, I take in the clubbers and dancers below, oblivious to what’s about to happen in this office above them. It feels voyeuristic, although I’m the one watching and getting the action.
I place my palms on the cool glass, and I sigh in slight relief. Every part of me is tingling with warmth, and the coolness of the glass feels good. I can’t see him, but I can feel Corey behind me, pacing like a predator ready to pounce on his prey.
“Stick that ass out, Bex,” he says, hungrily.
I slide my feet back a bit, shimmying my hips to give him a bit of a show. Not for the first time in the last few days, it strikes me how brazen and sexually bold being with Corey makes me. I have never acted like this in the past, with any boyfriend or hookup… but, then again, none of them made me feel the way Corey makes me feel. Seen. Wanted. Desired.
He taps my right heel with his shoe. “Spread those legs, sugar.”
As I follow his directions, I murmur, “Oh, god.” I am so turned on right now, so overwhelmed with lust for this man, it won’t take me long to finish once he has his hands on me.
It feels like an eternity before I feel Corey press against me, his arousal unmistakably hard against my ass. His hands slot into the curves of my waist, but otherwise, he remains still. “Bex,” he sighs my name like it’s a prayer. I wait for him to say more, but he simply drops to his knees, as he promised he would.
His hands are strong and warm, sliding from my waist down, over my ass, to the backs of my thighs. Corey slides them up, lifting my dress up, exposing my ass and the silky black thong I selected earlier this evening. It certainly was not a thought in my mind that Corey would see said thong, and now here he is, on his knees, massaging the soft skin of my inner thighs, pressing his nose to the silky fabric between my legs and inhaling deeply.
“Oh, god, Corey,” I can’t help but moan.
He chuckles, tickling my sensitive area with his hot breath. “I didn’t realize you were so religious, Bex. Tell me,” he says, trailing kisses along my inner thighs. “Which god are you calling out for?”
Before I can respond, he swipes my thong to the side and firmly swipes his tongue from my clit to my ass. My knee gives out, and I stumble slightly before Corey’s hand is there, supporting me. His tongue returns to my clit, swirling soft circles around it before he sucks it into his mouth.
“You, Corey,” I moan, resisting the urge to grind my hips against his face.
“Me?” Corey asks, teasing me. He slaps my ass softly. “Don’t hold back, baby. If you want to ride my face, fucking ride my face .”
A noise, which can only be described as feral, escapes my mouth, and I give in. My hips shift down against his lips, his tongue, his face. Corey is everywhere—his hands kneading and slapping at my ass, his tongue stroking me, his lips devouring me, my wetness—as if I were more delicious than our Oliver King meal earlier this evening.
Corey mumbles praises against my pussy, like “such a good girl” and “I love how wet you are for me,” and it’s not long before I feel the onslaught of my orgasm.
I’m not good at orgasms. Let me clarify. I can get there just fine on my own with the little toy I have back in my apartment, but it’s getting there with someone else that’s always been challenging. After a while, I just assumed the problem was me.
But here, with Corey’s face between my thighs, on the precipice of what might be the best orgasm of my life, I realize how wrong I’ve been. It wasn’t me at all.
“I’m gonna come,” I manage to sputter out between my moans.
“Oh, Bex, you’re gonna do more than that,” Corey growls. Before I can even question that statement, he slips two fingers inside me, curling them over and over on a spot I’ve clearly never discovered before. The shift is explosive, and I’m not sure when or where my orgasm begins, because I feel wave after wave of pleasure everywhere.
Suddenly, something releases from my core and a gush of wetness trickles down between my thighs, probably all over Corey’s face. I mumble incoherently, mixes of “thank you” and “I’m so sorry.” Waves of pleasure continue washing over me, my core clenching with each gush, and I both wonder where and when it will end and pray to God it never does. After a few moments, Corey slowly removes his fingers and takes his time, lapping up the mess I’ve made with his tongue.
By the time he’s done and shifts back to standing, I’m able to open my eyes. I can’t remember when I screwed them shut, but it’s almost shocking to see the dancefloor continuing on below us, as if the most magnificent fucking thing hadn’t just happened in this office.
Corey steps closer, wrapping his arms around me from behind, pressing his lips to the back of my neck. “Let’s get you standing up now,” he says, one hand covering mine and prying it from its place against the glass. Corey stands me up, turns me toward him, and pulls me in close. My head rests against his chest, and I can feel his heart pounding still, the same as mine.
He’s gently stroking my back, my arms, my hair, as he whispers, “I’ve got you.”
I’m glad he can’t see my face because my eyes sting with tears. Why am I so emotional right now? It’s just an intense orgasm… right? But as I wrap my arms around him, hugging him back, I know I’m lying to myself.
We stand that way for several minutes until our breathing sounds less like panting and more like normal. I step back first, staring up at him. He must have wiped his face with something, because there’s no trace of my wetness, and I could have sworn my pussy dumped a bucket on him. He’s smiling at me, a genuine smile of pride and satisfaction, and I feel the sting in my eyes again.
“You,” I finally say, breaking the silence between us.
Corey raises his brows, smirking. “Me?”
I have to reach up on my tiptoes to wrap my arms around his neck. “You’re a fucking god, Corey. I was calling out for you.”
“Mmmm,” he murmurs, leaning down to kiss me deeply.
I lose myself in his kiss, finding comfort in everything about him right now. His embrace, his scent, his words. We stay locked like this until I finally whisper, “Your turn.”
Corey’s still smiling at me when he shakes his head. “Tonight was about you, Bex.” Cupping my cheek, he shrugs. “At the beginning of tonight, I wanted to say ‘fuck dinner’ and take you back to my hotel. But now… I want to savor this, Bex. I don’t often get a chance to be with someone like this, someone like you. I want to take it slow. ”
I feel a swoop of disappointment in my belly, but I know he’s not saying this to hurt me. Forcing a smirk on my face, I say, “Riding your face and giving me the best orgasm of my life on the first date is taking it slow?”
He laughs, and the sound feels like a reassuring hug to my heart. “I guess not, no. But I mean it. Indulge me?”
Corey’s honesty and eagerness shines in his gaze, and there is no way I could say anything except, “We’ll go slow.”
Lord fucking help me , but we’ll go slow.