41. gray
41
GRAY
A melia was the highlight of my workday, especially after today's rebuilding efforts had reached new heights of frustration. I had initially looked forward to a quiet lunch, just the two of us, but then she showed up in this miniskirt that barely covered half of her thighs, spotlighting her dizzyingly long legs. My gaze traveled from her ankles until it hit the bothersome fabric—making me wonder what awaited me underneath. Even though I had memorized every inch of her heavenly body, not an hour went by without me having daydreams about her.
She was my Achilles' heel. It wasn't just her body that excited me—there was so much more. Her sarcasm. Her stares that sometimes pierced like daggers. Her intelligence… and how she always presented just the right kind of challenge. In recent weeks, she had been the one keeping everything together, especially during those desperate moments when I almost lost faith in the rebuild. And there had been quite a few such moments despite all the help we had received.
All this made her the most attractive woman on this planet, but by god, her outfit today really brought me to my knees. And apparently, she hadn't even planned it that way if I interpreted her initial reaction correctly.
Yet even now, as she bit into my lower lip hard enough for me to taste blood, she willingly made a choice for me.
We didn't have long before the other workers returned from their lunch break, which meant I needed to hurry. I turned her and pushed her back until she hit one of the support beams.
"Put your hands behind your back and hold onto the wood," I ordered her.
Unfortunately, nothing was lying around the construction site that could serve as makeshift restraints. Thus, I had to rely on her to follow my command… or give her a reason to.
"Yes, Daddy," she responded before she crossed her wrists and wrapped her fingers around the wood. Her head rested against the beam, and she looked up at me through her dark, long lashes seductively.
But it wasn't the look she threw me that made my blood boil. It was the words that so easily escaped her lips. Fuck .
She didn't say it often, but when she did, it had an undeniable power over me, my body, and every reaction I had. It was like snapping my rational thinking off and reducing everything to my most basic needs.
I wanted her. So I would take her.
"Every time I call you that, the expression on your face changes," she observed, fascinated.
"I like how you say it. The sound…" I grasped her leg to wrap it around my waist as before. With my other hand, I unbuckled my belt and pulled down my zipper, then slid my pants and boxers down before pushing her skirt up over her hips. I hooked my fingers into the sides of her panties, formed a fist, and yanked until the fabric split and fell carelessly to the ground.
Pleased with the result, I thrust myself between her legs, where her tilted pelvis already welcomed me. She rotated it, spreading her wetness over my cock, pressing against her.
"If you take your hands off the wood, I might opt for the floor instead," I whispered to her before scooping my hands under her ass to lift her slightly, aligning my tip against her entrance.
Before penetrating her fully, I slid through her center, over her sensitive clit and back again. I felt the invitation in each movement of her hips thrusting back against me.
As I entered the first inch, I looked down between our bodies. Her gaze followed mine before she sharply inhaled and let her head fall back against the wood.
"Do that again," she said with a gasp, so I withdrew only to give her the first few inches again.
A soft moan left her mouth as I repeated the move, finding a torturous rhythm that allowed me to not fully penetrate her. It felt good. Too good.
With her pleading gaze, Amelia compelled me to lean down and claim her mouth once more. Her tongue met mine, bold and demanding. It was the soft moan that underscored her desire for more.
"Gray," she sighed longingly, as if that alone was enough to give her what she wanted. "Please."
"Do I detect a hint of desperation? Please, what?"
"I need more."
"More?" I asked, pretending not to understand exactly what she wanted.
With a frustrated noise, she released her hands from the beam behind her so she could grab my ass and pull me deeper into her. But I didn't move an inch. Instead, I chuckled and tugged at her hair.
"So you really wanted Daddy to give you a reward, huh? The little skirt, disobeying my orders…" I pulled out of her only to turn her around and force her down to the ground, where she supported herself on her elbows, her bottom raised toward me, knees spread wide enough for me to just kneel into position behind her.
Again, my cock pressed against her entrance. I felt every twitch of her muscles as I left her hanging for a few seconds, both hands on her ass. I spread her cheeks apart, looked down where our bodies met, and plunged into her forcefully until the very last inch.
I cursed as her pussy clamped tightly around me. Where I had planned to fuck her slowly and deeply against the beam, I now couldn't resist taking her hard and fast, pulling her onto my cock with my grip again and again.
Eventually, I grabbed Amelia's hair, pulled it slightly back, and let her perform the movement on her own.
"Not the same intensity, huh?" I mocked her attempt to fuck herself hard and fast on my cock.
"It just felt better when you did it."
In my eyes, the keyword was different . Watching her desperation rise and her frustration with herself was a particular highlight.
So I took the lead again, one hand still in her hair. I felt the orgasm approaching, so I pulled her up with her back pressed against my chest.
"And because you failed to follow my one simple instruction, you'll have to wait for your climax until tonight, sin," I whispered to her. "I'll come deep inside you, fucking every last drop into your sweet, willing pussy, and then you'll stand up, pull down your skirt, and go back home. With every step, you'll have to think about me, about how hard I just took you and fucked you for my own relief… and think about my seed sticking to your thighs, running down your legs. Do me a favor and get a taste of it when you're home."
A muffled moan escaped her throat. I felt her muscles tighten around me, no doubt on the verge of bursting.
I quietly admonished her, chasing after my own climax. Ultimately, it was her desperate efforts to comply with my instruction that brought me to the brink.
With every thrust, I fucked my seed deeper into her, the thought of it exerting its own thrill on me.
I took no break, suddenly alert as voices approached. With one smooth motion, I brought us both to a standing position.
Before I could zip up my pants, I pulled Amelia's skirt down. With a dazed look, she leaned against me as I bent down and wiped her knees from the dust of the floor. Then I cleaned her hands on my shirt. I was just finished as Declan burst in, full of energy.
"Thanks for lunch, babe," I said with a grin, grasping her ass again and drawing her close for a brief, hard kiss. Meanwhile, I could feel her squeezing her thighs together.
"I can come back later," I heard Declan announce, almost embarrassed.
"No need." I released Amelia and turned her toward the exit. "Until tonight."
She threw me a heated, sideways glance. "Thanks, D… Gray ."
With that, she disappeared… but not from my thoughts, which for the rest of the day, revolved almost entirely around her.
Declan watched each of my subsequent movements with eagle eyes. If he suspected anything about what had just happened here, he had the decency not to mention it.
In recent months, he had proven why it had been a good idea to hire him. He worked hard. Harder than many other men who had worked for me in the past years. He also did his work diligently—and since we had taken care of his sleeping problem after the fire, I no longer worried about his immediate health.
Declan was a good kid, which sometimes made me compare him to my own son. I couldn't deny that he had taken on a certain role in my life, one that had been vacant before… with few chances of ever being filled by my actual son.
Fortunately, Declan shared a similar fate, only with reversed roles. His father had, as he had told me, hardly ever been there for him. Nor did they maintain a good relationship, so it had not been a huge shock for him to be thrown out.
So there we were, just playing the hand fate dealt us.
I had climbed back up the ladder to resume work on one of the crossbeams. Declan stood below, handing me the tools up, but his expression told me something was on his mind.
Instead of waiting for him to gather the courage to voice his thoughts, I cleared my throat to draw his attention. "What's on your mind?" I demanded.
He shifted from one foot to the other before contorting his face, clearly taken aback that I had addressed it.
"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," I continued, working away.
"Actually, it's a question that's bothering me. But I'm not sure if it's appropriate to ask."
"Is there a reason why it wouldn't be?" I raised an eyebrow, which, of course, he couldn't see from below.
He murmured something. "It might be a bit indiscreet."
"Indiscreet," I repeated, wondering whether I would have liked my son to hesitate twice about whether he could come to me with a question—regardless of its nature—or not.
And even though Declan was still my employee, there was no doubt that we had already crossed those boundaries.
"Go ahead and ask," I finally said with a sigh, internally prepared to keep a poker face and not show my initial reaction to his question.
"Do you always date younger women?"
I looked down at him. He was biting his lower lip as if he had just said something that might get him fired.
"Amelia is just a few years older than me, and…" His voice trailed off.
It was a legitimate question, prompted by his current thought process. It was this very thought that had led me to leave Amelia alone at a critical point.
But I hadn’t had to answer this yet, mainly because no one else had dared to ask the question.
"I have never in my life dated a woman who was more than four years younger than me. And what underlies your question almost prevented a relationship with Amelia. We have over twenty-five years between us, but it's not because of my age that she's with me, nor am I with her for that reason. You could say we met by chance, and it just clicked. For so many reasons that have nothing to do with any numbers." It might not have been easy for him to understand.
Declan was eighteen. How many partners had he had in his life?
"Are you worried about Amelia's well-being?"
This time, he looked at me as if I were out of my mind. "Good heavens, no! It's hard not to see how happy she is. And even though I didn't know her before, I'm certain she has changed since you met." He held up his hands as if to calm me down. "I just wondered if you might someday break her heart by replacing her with someone younger. For some men, that's normal. My dad has been having affairs with his students for years, who are just barely old enough."
I tasted bitter bile. Declan clearly hadn't hit the jackpot with his father. No wonder he was now worrying about whether I harbored similar tendencies as his previous role model .
"Can I be completely honest with you, Declan?"
"Of course." He seemed impressed that I was even having this conversation with him instead of cutting him off after his initial question and ending the discussion.
"Amelia is the last woman in my life there will ever be. I plan to marry her—and maybe I'll change my mind about kids too. I want only her. No one else. Which means that I give my all every day to be the man she needs in her life. For a long time, I might have denied it, but I love this woman more than I ever thought humanly possible." With each further sentence I spoke, he blushed a little more. I ignored it and finally shrugged. "I hope this eases your concern about Amelia."
"What are my chances of experiencing something like that?"
I twisted my mouth. In principle, I had given up when Amelia found me. How was I qualified to give him any advice?
"If we take me as an example, it finds you when you least expect it."
"That wasn't a planned date?"
Chuckling softly, I shook my head. "My actual date had stood me up, and Amelia was hiding at my table to avoid being recognized by someone else at the same restaurant."
"Really?!"
"Yes. And when my actual date did show up, she chased them away for me."
"Man, that sounds like a wild story. What happens next?"
"No chance," I said, grinning. "I'll keep that to myself. It's not a guide for your own love story. You just need to know that our first meeting definitely wasn't planned. And now, back to work before I start giving you dating advice that never worked out for me."