Page 17 of Dad's Best Friend Boss
Hours later, we’re sitting across a table on Henry’s balcony on the thirtieth floor of a luxury condo building near Koreatown. The view from there is fantastic. I sit facing north, and I can see the Hollywood sign clearly on top of the mountains, bathing in evening sunlight.
I must be gazing at the view for too long because Henry urges me. “I’m having the last piece of scallop, sweetheart.”
He’s gotten my attention because raw scallops are my favorite item on the table. “No way!” I say and reach for the last piece before he gets to it.
We purchased the sashimi at a Japanese deli nearby on our way home. It turns out to be the best Japanese food I’ve ever had.
Henry chuckles and goes for the tuna sashimi instead. “Just kidding. By the way, the squid is just as good.”
“I know. Everything is delicious,” I say before shoving the delicacy into my mouth. I close my mouth and moan as I chew, enjoying every drop of the succulent juice before swallowing down with a satisfying sigh.
When I open my eyes, I see Henry’s smoldering eyes. As I shiver and stare at him, he raises his glass, swallows down a gulp of sake, and then reaches across the table and kisses me.
He takes me by surprise. “Mmmm,” I whimper when I taste the rice wine’s strong, aromatic flavor, and I suck on his lips for more.
Our tongues tangle within a minute, and we forget the rest of the food on the table. “Take my cherry, please,” I say to Henry after we stop. Henry growls and comes around the table. He takes my arm and pulls me to him, and then he sweeps me into his arms and into the condo.
For a moment, I question whether I’m doing the right thing. My last tryst with Henry nearly got us in trouble. Although Henry handled it beautifully, I still blame myself for being reckless. Henry carries me up the spiral staircase into the bedroom and deposits me onto his king-size bed with luxurious bed linens.
I’m so nervous I can hardly breathe. I merely let him handle everything. He removes my skirts and unbuttons my shirt, slowly and carefully as if he were unwrapping some precious gift. I watch his eyes turn dark when he sees me in nothing but a bra and panties. Just the look turns me on and I feel as if his eyes were caressing me. Desire stirs inside of me and I squirm to ease the tension building up. I long for his touch, but he just stands there by the bed, gazing at me with hungry eyes like I were food.
“Do you like what you see?” I whisper.
He blinks out of his stupor. “Hell yes, baby. You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve seen, and I haven’t even seen all of you yet.”
I became shy. What if he doesn’t like the rest of me? As I wonder about it, he grabs the waistband of my panties and yanks them off me.
I gasp by the sudden change of mood. His gentleness is gone and ferocity takes over. His face is red, and eyes bright when he spreads my legs open and finds the spot in between. He inhales sharply. “Fuck, baby. I’ve missed your delicious pussy.”
Oh God. I feel my feminine juices trickle down my center. Henry doesn’t wait to scoop it up with a finger. He sniffs it at first, and then sucks his finger. “You taste like honey, sweetheart.” As I squirm and release more streams, he feasts on my juices just like he did a few days ago in his office.
I unclasp my bra and push it off me. Henry’s eyes widen when he looks up from my juncture. A low grunt escapes his throat and he cups one of my breasts right away. He kneads it greedily, not slowing down his tongue. I stroke my other boob and enjoy the overwhelming, exquisite sensation of being pleasured by the older man.
When the tension is too much to bear, I put a hand on his head to stop him. “Please, Henry. I need you inside me.”
He lets go of me at once and strips. Tossing his shirt onto the floor, he drops his pants and then his briefs. He pauses for just a minute to let me drool over his athletic body before heading to the nightstand.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“I’m getting a condom.”
“You’re going to pop my cherry through a rubber barrier?” I protest. It feels so unromantic.
“But I don’t want to get you pregnant, sweetheart.”
“Why not? You don’t want kids?”
“I… do, but Mila, you’re so young.”
“I’m twenty-two. Child-bearing age starts at twelve. Besides, I’m safe.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, please.”
He hesitates for just a second, and then he smiles. “Your dad would kill me if I knocked you up, but hell, I don’t even care,” he says as he climbs onto the bed.
Spreading me wide, he kneels between my legs and strokes his long, thick shaft, making it rigid before bringing it to my juncture.
