Page 25 of Heart of a Devil

She squeals and slaps at my arms, but her heart’s not in it. The hands clinging to my biceps and the little squeeze of her internal walls tell me she’s not going to fight this. I lay her down on the desk and fasten up my jeans. This is going to be all about her. I nudge her legs open and run my hands up her inner thighs.She trembles beneath me, and I gaze at her gorgeous center. Her neatly trimmed bush of dark curls glistens with my cum and her juices, and when I run my pointer finger along her folds, she sighs my name.

“This,” I say, “is going to be the most delicious pussy I have ever tasted.”

“Are you sure? My ex wouldn’t come near me once he’d come, said he didn’t like the smell.”

I give her thigh a gentle slap. “Well your ex was obviously a prick, and I don’t want to hear him mentioned whileI’manywhere near Gloria, okay? You smell fucking delicious. Your cum and mine, together. It’s fucking perfect. Now shut up and let me eat.”

Her giggle, sweet and innocent, goes straight to my dick.

I kiss my way along her inner thighs, her flesh trembling beneath my lips as I work my way higher. I’d normally torture her, drag this out, make her weep for it, but I’m feeling generous. She did, after all, give me the world’s sexiest lap dance.

I use my fingers to open her up, pulling her pussy lips aside so I can see her properly. A gorgeous swollen clit right there, sitting up and begging for attention. I smile at the sight and blow on it before I run my tongue all the way up and down her slit.

“Seb! Oh god, that feels so good.”

Her body squirms beneath me as I keep up the motion, her breathing building up to a pant. I slip my tongue inside her, exploring and tasting her salty sweetness before going back to her bud and sucking it gently into my mouth. Holding it there, I lick up and down and swirl my tongue around it, making her whole body tremor. She’s close, I can tell, and I want to feel her come. I slide a finger inside her and keep it there, rocking back and forth while I go back to swooping my tongue over her soaking wet pussy and her desperate clit. “Come for me now, sweetheart. Come all over my face.”

The dirty talk works its magic, and she obliges, screaming my name and tearing at my hair as her legs spasm on either side of my head. I keep licking and sucking, keep fingering her until the final last wave of pleasure sweeps through her. Her walls ripple around me, and her juice gushes out around my hand, drenching my face and beard in her delicious cum. I lick her clean and relish the sight of her naked, quivering body splayed out across my desk.

“You look good there, Hot Sauce,” I say. “So good I might just chain you to that desk and never let you go.”

“Promises, promises.”

I help her sit up, and we stare at each other for a moment before bursting out laughing. Twenty minutes ago, we both looked like normal human beings going about our working days. Now, we look like a pair of sex addicts who’ve fallen off the wagon. She reaches out and touches my face. “You’ve got a bit of something in your beard there…”

“I know. Someone squirted on me. It was fucking unbelievable. There’s a bathroom over there if you want to clean up. Personally, I’m happy to walk around smelling of your cunt for the rest of the fucking day.”

“Did anyone ever tell you that you have a filthy mouth, Sebastian Donovan?” she says, standing up and kissing me firmly on the lips. “And I love it.”

She disappears off to my bathroom, giving me the chance to gather as many of my wits as I have left. I think I get less intelligent every time I fuck her.

She emerges looking almost as good as new, her hair up in a tidy ponytail and her makeup restored. “Have you stolen my panties again?”

I shrug, knowing they’re safely tucked away in my pocket. “No clue what you’re talking about. You must have lost them.You’re very careless with your knickers—I’ve noticed that about you.”

“Knickers!” she exclaims with childish delight. “One of my all-time favorite British-isms words.” She drops a quick kiss on my cheek. “Thanks for that, Mr. Donovan. I really needed it.”

“You’re very welcome, Ms. Hayes. But now I feel a bit used.”

“I didn’t hear you complaining.”

And she never will. “Shall I call round at yours later to sort those cameras? And did you drive here or walk over?” I’m keen to move away from the subject of sex and back to something that doesn’t have me acting like a lovesick schoolboy. Her protection should be a safe topic.

“Yes, you can come install the cameras. And I walked. It was a nice day, and I needed to clear my head.”

I fight back a sharp retort about how she should be taking her own safety more seriously and instead pick up the phone. I ask Scott, one of our most trusted men, to give her a lift back to the law office.

“Thanks,” she says. “These heels were killing me anyway. See you later.”

When she’s gone, I sink down on my chair and let myself breathe. Being around that woman is not good for my sanity when I have so much on my plate. Running Archangel is challenge enough without adding in the McIverson bullshit, the cyber threat against the Montoyas, and the potential upcoming conflict with the Russian mob. There are a lot of plates spinning right now, and I need to be able to think about something other than her delicious pussy.

Right, I decide, first things first. The McIversons. If I get them sorted, I can pay more attention to the stuff that matters. They’ve had enough time, and no matter what Gabriel says, it’s a situation that needs sorting. I’ll take Taylor with me, see what he’s made of. I give my beard a quick wipe down—I don’t wantany other man getting the slightest hint of her scent—and head out of my office. The other guys have desks out here, and there’s a little kitchen and bar area where we hang out and talk about whatever shit happens to be on our minds.

As I saunter toward it with an admittedly smug spring to my step, they all look up, glance at each other, and in unison, they start to sing. It begins with an extended sigh, and then they all serenade me with a rousing rendition of “Love to Love You Baby.” The sight of all these big bruisers dancing around and singing the disco classic, complete with sounds lifted straight from porno movies, is enough to crack me up. I laugh until I’m fit to bust, shaking my head at their impudence.

Once the hilarity has died down, I point at young Taylor, who played a pretty mean air guitar throughout. “Get your coat, kid. We’ve got work to do.”

Chapter

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