Page 30 of Cruel Fate

I slip my tongue between her lips and rake my fingers through her hair. She mews into my mouth, and I’m instantly hard. She’s wearing a black sweater dress that hugs her every curve, and I pull those curves to me, pressing her breasts against my chest.

Wrapping her arms around my neck, she hugs me tighter to her, too, and I’m glad this isn’t one-sided.

“I want you, Stella. I can’t wait.”

“Please, Zane, this is all I can think about.”

I don’t want to rush, but I can’t help myself. I tug at the hem of her dress and reveal black garters. I groan, and she laughs.

“Like?” she asks.

“Definitely.” Impatiently, I lead her to my desk. I want to undress her, and I waste precious seconds to use a remote that locks the door and lowers the blinds attached to the windows that look into my office. I reach for her, but she bats my hands away. Carefully, she unknots my tie, slowly unbuttons my shirt, and flutters kisses over my chest, her tongue flicking my nipples.

“That’s enough,” I growl and take her mouth with mine, ramming my tongue between her teeth. She gasps and starts to unbuckle my belt. I let her, and seconds later, she wraps her hands around my cock. I’m already spurting. The pad of her thumb circles the wet tip. “You drive me crazy,” I say, pulling away. Another minute of that, and I’ll explode. I want to come inside her, not in my briefs.

I yank her dress over her head and stare, the material dropping to the floor unnoticed. Framed by the windows that look over the city, she’s gorgeous. The sunlight sparkles in her hair, and her skin glows gold. I can’t take my eyes off her. Suddenly, she looks self-conscious, brushing a hand between her breasts and down her belly. “You are a goddess,” I say to help her relax and because it’s nothing less than the truth.

She blushes. “Thank you.”

“Trust me, it’s my pleasure.” I undo her stockings, unsnapping the clasps. Stella doesn’t seem the type to mess with such fussy lingerie, and I wonder if she bought them for me. If she did, I’ll thank her later...there’s nothing I like more than a finely-shaped woman wearing black lace. My fingers play with her matching panties, and she widens her legs, granting me access. I slip my finger inside her. She’s hot, wet, and tight. God, she’s so tight. I force myself to stop and remember how young she is.

“Are you a virgin, Stella?” I want to be the first, but I don’t. There’s such a responsibility in claiming a girl’s V-card, and I don’t feel worthy of Stella’s, but I hate the thought of another man touching her.

She blows out a breath and says quietly, “I dated someone in community college. We were intimate a couple of times, but that’s all. After graduation, I never saw him again.”

I nod, relieved. The best of both. I won’t be taking her virginity, but she hasn’t been all over King’s Crossing. I can’t say the same, and I’m grateful she doesn’t ask about my sexual history—it would ruin the mood. Besides, she already knows.

Kissing the inside of her thigh, I slide her panties down her legs and toss them aside. She’s a real blonde, and I rub my nose through her curls. I push a finger inside her. Her legs tremble.

I find her clit with my tongue and lick the sensitive nub.

She’s already engorged, and she whimpers my name. “Zane.”

“I know, baby. I’ve been thinking about this since I met you in my kitchen. This need to touch you, to be inside you.” I lap at her again, loving how she tastes.

She’s so ready, but still, I push two fingers inside her, stretching her, twisting them as she moans my name.

I wipe my fingers on my pants and tug off her bra. Licking her lips, Stella watches me undress.

Cuddling her to me, I kiss her, and she devours her own essence. I love her flavor in my mouth, and I love she loves it, too.

Her fingers whisper over my cock, and I’m more than ready. It takes longer than I’d like to grab my wallet out of my pants crumpled on the floor and pull out a condom, but smiling wickedly, she rips the packet open and sheathes my erection herself, her touch lighting my skin on fire.

I don’t want her missionary. I probably should, for our first time, to make her comfortable, but instead I lean her over my desk, expose her ass and pussy just right. I push my fingers into her again, opening her, and rub the tip of my cock over her slit.

Her cheek is pressed against my blotter, and she whimpers, but not in fear. She raises onto her tiptoes offering herself to me.

I take.

I shove into her, grasping her hips. She cries out, and I thicken with anticipation. I withdraw inch by inch, then plunge in again. Slow, agonizing strokes make her clench around me and I lose myself, almost coming, but I took her in this position for a reason.

I wet my finger and carefully caress her ass. The puckered blossom beckons to me, and I rub my fingertip around the delicate area. I gauge her reaction, and she grips the edge of my desk but doesn’t protest. Her shallow breathing echoes through my office.

“Stella?” I ask.

“I’ve never—”

“Just my finger, honey. I need to touch you there.” I want to play. I want my finger inside her ass, feel my cock moving in and out of her.

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