I lick the corner of my mouth seductively and say, “That’s right. He has the better office.”
Talent’s laugh fills the entire office space, and the sound has a direct link to my heart. My job is to make men grovel and moan. Sometimes I bring them to tears, but I always make them come. Laughter has never been on the list of things I bring out in a client, but Talent laughs effortlessly and often when we’re together.
Talent isn’t a client.
Talent is everything else.
“Do you want to go to lunch?” he asks. Good humor lingers in his easygoing posture and sly smile.
“Nope.”
“We can order in.”
“No.” I uncross my legs and part my knees to show him I’m not wearing underwear.
He drops his head back and groans flirtatiously, swallowing hard before returning his eyes to me. “What do you want to do?”
Recrossing my legs, I say, “A redo.”
Talent rolls his chair back until it bumps into the window with the Pacific Ocean background. He holds his arms out to his sides like a dare, and his expression says I’m all yours.
“Are you expecting more visitors this afternoon?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “No one comes in here unless they knock first.”
“I hope you’re right.”
My dress strap slides down my shoulder, but I don’t correct it as I slowly saunter over to his side of the desk. I rest against the edge in front of Talent, not unlike the first time we were together in this exact same spot. The time of day, the movement of the sea, and our impending relationship is not where the differences end. As much as I would enjoy lying back on the desk to allow him to have his way with me, I don’t straddle his lap to speak dirty words into his ear like the last time either.
I drop to my knees and slide my hands up his thighs to his belt buckle.
Talent scrubs his palms over his face and whispers, “Baby.”
Glancing at him from under my eyelashes, I feel powerful in this position. Talent may sit above me, but I’m in control despite my place on the floor. He’s hard against the inside of his pants, melting into his chair and opening his knees wider for me when I lean in closer to unbuckle his belt. With the flick of my wrist, his pants are unbuttoned, and I’m slow to unzip him.
“It would be really embarrassing if anyone walked in while we’re doing this.” I hook my fingers under the waistband and pull his slacks down.
Talent’s cock jumps free, and I lick the tip.
He picks up his desk phone and presses a few buttons before stating in an impressively calm voice, “If anyone calls, I’m out of the office.”
Holding his manhood in my hand, I work him up and down, up and down. “Should I get up and lock the door?”
Talent watches me through hooded eyes and with reddened cheeks. “Don’t you fucking dare walk away from me.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I promise. I push my hair over my left shoulder, cross my ankles, and blow on the tip of his dick before taking him all the way into my mouth.
I’m instantly obsessed with the way Talent’s head drops back and his chest rises and falls as he struggles not to moan too loudly. He tenses but relaxes all at once, holding on to the back of the chair and then the armrests like he doesn’t know what to do with his hands.
Sucking cock has never been something I like to do, so I learned tricks to make it end quickly. But with Talent, I find myself wanting to draw it out for as long as possible. I want to memorize the way his lips part, the movement of his Adam’s apple when he swallows, and how he slowly blinks.
I lick the underside of his shaft while pushing the head of his dick against the roof of my mouth, gripping the base of his length in my hand. His hips thrust up, driving him deeper into me, and I take it again and again. I feel him contract between my lips, and the taste of cum touches my tongue.
As much as I hate for this to end, if he’s ready, I can give him the best fucking experience he’s ever had. Holding the head of his cock between my lips, I push the tip of my tongue into the soft spot where the head meets the shaft and wait for him to moan before taking as much of him in as I can.
Talent’s hand slides behind my neck into my hair, and I prepare to have my mouth fucked. Experience tells me this is never gentle, so anticipation makes my eyes water and my mouth fills with saliva.
“Slow down,” he says in a husky tone. “Go slower, Lydia.”
Breathing in slowly through my nose, I close my eyes and swallow around his length. My heart hammers loud enough to echo through my ears, and my knees start to ache on the hardwood floor.
Talent’s thumb rubs softly at my temples. He says, “Look at me.”
I open my eyes to find him staring down at me with the kind of sincerity that erases any discomfort I suffer, leaving only tenderness. The dark and lovely look in his eyes carries me away, and I slow down like he asks. He doesn’t break eye contact from me again, carefully guiding my mouth up and down his length. His fingers tangle in the hair at the nape of my neck, and his thumbs rub small circles behind my ears.
Intimacy feels like I’d die without him here.
Standing to my feet, I hitch my dress over my waist and straddle his legs. Talent grips my bottom and scoots me over his lap, where his cock slides into me with ease. Holding on to the back of the chair, my hair acts like a curtain between us and everything else. I gasp against his mouth and circle my hips in a slow figure eight, certain this won’t be long for either one of us.
As a frenzy builds momentum, so does something else. It grows inside of me, wrapping around my bones and weaving through the fibers of muscle. It’s devotion, fondness, and respect all together and all at once, pushing out old feelings of disappointment and loneliness. It’s a word right on the tip of my tongue, bittersweet and lush.
I kiss Talent, hoping he can taste it in my mouth and tell me what it is.
He holds me in his arms and crushes me like he might. As his body prods and pokes the little bruises he gave me yesterday, the word on the tip of my tongue almost nearly has a sound. But when I try to push it out, all that happens is heavy breathing and humming. Talent pinches my bottom lip, smearing my lipstick, and my mouth falls open. I lick his fingers, wondering if he can see it and say it first.
He can say it aloud, and I’ll sound it out.
“Lydia,” he whispers like a secret.
Close, but it’s not the word I’m thinking of. But the shape of my name on his lips is enough to throw me over the edge, and I come undone. Now I’m the one throwing my head back and opening my legs as much as I can to get him as deep as he’ll reach. Talent presses his lips against the racing pulse point on my neck and carries me up and away.
I come down like a feather in the wind.
The word has spread from the tip of my tongue, down my throat, into my stomach and lungs and kidneys. It flows through my blood, coursing through my veins and pumping through my heart. It’s in the tips of my fingers and toes, and behind my heavy eyelids.
It’s between my legs, against my chest, and kissing the side of my face.
“I’m not ready to get up yet,” I say softly. Twisting his hair between my fingers, I rest my head against his and watch the waves crash against the shore from his office window.
“We don’t have anywhere to be but here,” he says. Talent runs his hands up and down my thighs, careful not to turn the chair away from the view.