Page 16 of Vivacity
I bite down on my lip. Every exhale is a whimper now. It’s an effort, but I wrap my fingers around his wrist, and he grunts with what sounds like approval.
‘Harder.’ I dig my nails in.
‘Jesus.’
‘Please, Ethan. So good. Fuck me harder.’ I’m slurring now. My voice, even to my own ears, sounds pitiful, and I consider dimly that he should enjoy this. He should really fucking like watching me unravel beneath him. And he should absolutely get off on having me beg.
The sound he makes is positively anguished. He extricates his remaining hand from my boob and grabs my hip so hard I suspect he’ll leave bruises.
‘Told you I’d make it worth your while.’ He accompanies hisI told you sowith a savage thrust. ‘Told you you’d want to turn up and get railed every day. Fuck, this cunt is so greedy.’
‘You’re so fucking full of yourself,’ I gasp, because I’m close. I’m so close that I’d be mortified at what a pushover I am if I wasn’t so intent on seeing this orgasm through. Because he’s right. When it comes to sexual pleasure, I’m basically Veruca Salt, and I amthisclose to stamping my stiletto heel into his shoe to spur him on.
‘Enough.’He wrenches his wrist out of my grasp. ‘Hands on the table.’
I comply, and in a turn I didn’t see coming, he pins me to the table bymywrists. He’s leaning forward now, and his breath is warm on my jaw, my neck, as he rams into me over and over.Fuck, he’s bossy, and fuck, he’s good at this, and fuck, backchat really gets him going. No stilettos needed—verbal spurs work a treat, it seems.
There’s a real risk I drool on the table. I may spurt. It’s a swamp down there. I’m so intensely turned on, and my entire body is on fire, and having Ethan Kingsley unleashed on my pussy—and by my pussy—is a fucking riot, as it happens.
Bloody hell. I could put up with a lot of shit if he gave me this kind of treatment every?—
Oh my god. Oh my god. My climax hits me like a fucking forklift truck, slamming through my body and obliterating absolutely everything that is not white-hot pleasure. I splay out the fingers of my restrained hands and screw my eyes closed as I buck and buck beneath him, only vaguely aware of the unhinged shrieks that I think are coming from me.
But one sound does cut through the fog of ecstasy.
Ethan’s voice, shot through with the pain of a man on the precipice of losing all control.
‘Fuck—fuck—beautiful.Beautiful. Jesus Christ.’
He may have broken me, but it sounds like my greedy pussy and I have broken him, too. It’s with a steady, desperate volley of thrusts that he fucks me through my orgasm before he vaults over the edge with a roar that’s defeated and triumphant in equal measure. I soak it all up as I drift down from my high: him stilling inside me, impossibly huge, then rutting into me over and over. Done, he collapses on top of me, his breathing harsh and ragged, and drags his lips along my shoulder.
No notes.
Not a single note.
That was flawless, and I don’t know whether to be smug as fuck or pissed off beyond all belief that he has the goods to back up the ego.
‘Don’t move,’ he grunts in my ear before hauling himself off me. ‘Just give me a second.’
There’s a sting as he withdraws—I’ve taken a major pounding, after all—and he disappears to dispose of the condom. I assume that’s an ensuite back there. I lie where I am, boneless and sated and woozy. Then he’s back, sliding my thong up my legs and over my bottom before putting his arms under me and hauling me up. It’s very much a practical move, but his movements are gentle when he turns me around and props me against the desk.
He takes a step back, crossing his arms over his chest. He’s already put his dick away, and there’s not a hair out of place. On his face is a self-satisfied smirk.
‘You were absolutely gagging for that, weren’t you?’
I narrow my eyes at him. I’m still almost naked, and I couldn’t give a shit. Smug fuck. I mirror his position, crossing my arms below my most excellent boobs, a movement his eyes track. I blow an errant piece of hair out of my eyes. My legs are trembling from that earth-shattering orgasm, something I have no intention of disclosing to him. Somebody needs to take this guy down a peg or two, and that someone is me. I’ll be damned if I let him see just how much that magical dick of his affected me.
‘Look,dickhead,’ I say, hating that my voice still sounds Marilyn-Monroe-levels of post-orgasmic, ‘my last boss was sixty-five years old, so the bar is really fucking low.’ I glare at him. ‘Okay?’
That gets me my first proper smile of the day, and it’s far more dazzling than I’m comfortable with. Crinkled eyes. White teeth. Dammit. He’s indecently gorgeous, and it’s a disaster.
He looks pointedly at my traitorous nipples, standing proudly to attention, before dragging his eyes up to my face. ‘Whatever you say, sweetheart. So. When can you start?’
CHAPTER 9
Ethan
What my natural charm lacks in terms of its persuasive powers, I make up for with my dick. That works well for me when my target is a beautiful woman I’m trying to hire and less well when my target is a straight man I’m trying to shaft.
