All That She Wants (Connor's Point of View Part 1) (8 page)

I wasn’t going very fast at all, nor was I
all the way in, when she began to moan again. She rocked her body
upwards to meet mine, angling her hips, changing the pressure on my
shaft, caressing my cock with her pussy.

Jesus, I was getting close to coming – and I
didn’t want to.

I pulled out of her slowly, almost all the
way, waiting until the danger died down.

She whimpered a little, like she wanted me to
continue.

So I did – a tiny bit faster, a little bit
harder.

She started moaning with every stroke, her
eyes fluttering back in her head. I cupped her face with my hands
and kissed her lips, her chin, her cheeks, and began to go faster,
rocking, then actually thrusting, making sure I didn’t hurt her –
but all she did was angle her pelvis against mine, rocking upwards
to meet me, enveloping me with those sweet, wet lips of hers.

I began to whisper in her ear – little
breaths and sighs that quickly became groans. I nibbled on her
lower lip as I thrust harder inside her, going deeper, almost
bottoming out inside her, my thighs slapping against hers, our
bodies crashing together. I began to groan louder, and she began to
cry out: “oh –
oh – Oh – OH –
OH – ” over and over again, a
building crescendo, and I prayed she was okay, that she would say
something if I was hurting her, because I was past the point of no
return – I could feel it building deep inside me, my groin
tightening, my cock hard and swollen and almost bursting –

“Oh God, Lily, oh God, oh God,” I whispered
into her ear as I slammed into her harder, trying to go as deep as
I could, and then she was crying out “Oh Connor, Connor, CONNOR,
OH GOD CONNOR
– ” as she clasped my ass in her hands and
raked her fingernails across my back, and suddenly I was going over
the edge, and I knew this was it, no turning back and I thrust even
harder and faster and she was screaming in ecstasy, and I joined
her, shouting as I came, an insane burst of pleasure jetting
through me, my whole body tense as I thrust into her one final
time, as far as I could go, deep as I could get, and I felt myself
explode as our cries comingled and then slowly waned.

I lowered my head in exhaustion and began
kissing her face, her mouth, anywhere, so long as I could kiss
her.

We kissed for a couple more minutes, me just
enjoying the sliding of our sweat-slicked bodies… until I knew I
should withdraw and deal with the condom.

“Don’t move,” I said. I reached down, grabbed
the edge of the latex, and slowly pulled out of her. Once I was out
I kissed her breasts, her stomach, and that little place where the
tendons of a woman’s leg join her body. She must have liked it,
because she gasped a little.

“Be right back,” I grinned, then walked into
the kitchen area where the coffee machine was.

I thought about cleaning up by myself first,
but figured she’d be self-conscious if she had to do it alone. I
grabbed a box of Kleenex and some bottled waters from the fridge,
then walked back into the boardroom.

We both cleaned up at the same time. I
noticed that she watched me the entire time she did it… and again I
felt that flush, that little ego-driven thrill, that she was taking
her own pleasure in watching me naked.

We drank some water, then I lay down next to
her and pressed my body against hers. I luxuriated in touching her
everywhere – her breasts, her stomach, between her legs. She did
the same, tracing her fingers across my chest and arms, my abs and
thighs.

I decided I wanted a little bit more. “Turn
over,” I commanded.

She gave me a slightly panicked look. “Uh…
why?”

I knew exactly what she was thinking –
although it wasn’t why I wanted her to turn over. “Just trust
me.”

She gave me another concerned look… but
turned over onto her belly.

I wanted her ass, yes – but to touch it, to
kiss it, to caress it. I moved over the gorgeous curves, down the
inside of her thighs, lightly grazing her pussy along the way… just
by accident. (If you believe that, I have a bridge in Brooklyn I
want to sell you.)

I kissed her everywhere: the small of her
back, her spine, her shoulder blades, her neck… and then worked my
way back down with tiny little flicks of my tongue.

I was almost to her ass when I joked, “I bet
when you came in this morning, you didn’t think you’d be having sex
in the company boardroom.”

Wrong
thing to say.

It was like somebody had plugged her into a
wall socket.

“OH MY GOD!” she screeched, and jerked away
so fast she smacked my face with her ass. (Not that I would have
minded, under ordinary circumstances.)

The sudden change – from sensual afterglow to
meth-head freak-out – almost gave me a heart attack.

“What?! What is it?!”

“Oh my God, I can’t believe I did this!” she
cried as she stumbled to her feet and began snatching up her
clothes.

Ohhhhh… NOW I get it.

I laughed out loud. I wasn’t trying to be
mean; there really just wasn’t any other logical reaction. I mean,
if you work for a company and decide to fuck in their boardroom, I
figure you might as well deal with your qualms upfront so you can
at least enjoy the experience all the way to the end.

And what was the point of freaking out when
you hadn’t even been caught yet?

I put my hands behind my head and watched her
gather her clothes in a frenzy. I noticed she kept glancing over at
me, for longer and longer intervals, with a look of barely
suppressed lust.

There might be hope yet.

“Stop. Come here.”

I tried to catch her hand as she passed by,
and failed.

“I’m
so
going to get fired,” she
whimpered as she pulled on her underwear. Which, nice as it was to
watch, was going in the opposite direction I wanted.

“Nobody knows we’re here,” I said
soothingly.

“There are cameras!”

I tried a joke, like I liked the possibility:
“Reaaaally.”

She didn’t take it as a joke, though.

“Well… not in here, but out in the
receptionist area! Somebody could have seen us go in, and – ”

“And we’ll tell them we were drinking coffee.
Come here,” I said, and tried for her ankle.

No go – she evaded me again.

“It’s going to smell like – like sex!” she
whispered, sounding for all the world like some 80-year-old church
lady discussing sinful acts perpetrated up at Lover’s Lane.

She bent down to the floor and patted the
carpet where we’d done the deed. Apparently her worst fears were
confirmed, because she screwed her eyes shut in agony. “Oh
God…”

“What?”

“It’s… it’s wet,” she whispered haltingly.
“…where we had sex.”

Good grief. If I had my druthers, we would
have gotten every
inch
of the carpet wet. And the table and
chairs, too.

I figured she needed a little push outside of
the box, so I uncapped my water bottle and poured some out over the
offending ‘wet spot.’

“Ooops. Look at that. Spilled my water.”

She about had a conniption fit. “Cut that
out!”

“Where’s the woman I just had sex with?” I
asked. “The wild and crazy one? I want her back.”

And I did.

Badly.

I was ready for Round Two. Despite the drama
queen reaction, all I wanted was to pull her back down to the
floor, rip off her clothes, and have my way with her again.

That wasn’t what was going through
her
mind, though.

“She’s
gone,
” she snapped. “She just
got replaced with the woman who realizes she’s probably going to
get fired for this, and she still has three hours of reports to –
”

She stopped midsentence, got an even
more
pained look on her face, then pressed her palms into
her eye sockets like she was fighting a blinding migraine.

I sighed. I could see this wasn’t going to go
my way, so I just stood up and grabbed my clothes.

“You shouldn’t worry so much,” I told
her.

“Easy for
you
to say. Your job isn’t
on the line.”

“It’s a crappy job, Lily.”

“It’s the only one I’ve got.”

Again, that crazy, resigned, fatalistic line
of logic that everyday people carried wherever they went.

I hate being whipped every day while I push
this grindstone around!

So leave and find something better to do.

But if I do that, then I won’t be around to
get whipped while I push this grindstone!

“You should get one you like,” I said.

She gave me an angry, unhappy look, and I
realized I wasn’t going to ‘logic’ her into feeling better… so I
just got dressed instead and let her try to wipe the boardroom of
all traces we had been there.

Which made me a little sad.

She was treating it as the scene of the
crime…

…and for me, it had been the happiest I had
been in months.

Maybe years.

She was rinsing out our coffee cups in the
sink as I finished dressing. I leaned up against the doorway and
watched her… watched that gorgeous ass… thought about how much I
wanted to undress her again… how much I wanted to hear her cries
and moans…

“Lily,” I said softly.

She turned around and looked at me
distrustfully. “What?”

The way she said it…

Like she was a totally different person from
the woman I’d walked in here with.

I just shook my head. “…never mind.”

That seemed to make her even madder.
“What?!”

Maybe if I got her
out
of this fucking
place, she’d calm down.

“Walk me down to my car?” I asked.

She crossed her arms over her body and hugged
herself, like she was cold. Except she couldn’t be cold, because it
was pretty warm in here. We’d done a pretty good job of raising the
ambient temperature with our earlier,
ahem
, activities.

I watched her. She was lost in her own little
world of worry… but it slowly began to change. The negative
emotions receded, and a sad look slowly dawned… and then the
sadness turned to something else.

Wistful happiness.

In my line of work, I’m a negotiator, a
salesman, a confidant, an asshole (depending on who you’re talking
to) – but more than that, I’m a poker player. And in poker, the
best players don’t play the cards. They play their opponents. And
the only way to do that is to get inside their heads. Learn their
tells. Find out what makes them tick… and exploit what they tell
you to win the hand, and the game.

That look of wistful happiness was my ace in
the hole.

“What?” I asked.

She woke from her reverie and looked at me. I
could see the worry seeping back in, which I absolutely didn’t
want, so I spoke quickly. “What were you thinking?”

She sighed. “That I wish I wasn’t freaking
out, because…”

She stopped and looked abashed. Afraid to
tell me.

But for one bright shining moment, she looked
like the woman I’d brought up here, and not the one who had just
had a meltdown.

“Because what?” I prodded gently.

She looked at me in pain, like a drowning
person might as they saw their last hope of being saved slip
away.

“…because I was having the best night of my
life.”

My heart leaped in my chest – and broke a
little bit, too.

I wanted her.

I wanted to show her that it didn’t have to
be like this.

I wanted to set her free from this goddamn
prison she called home.

I wanted…

…hell, more than anything, I just wanted to
sleep with her again.

I smiled at her and held out my hand. “Walk
me down to my car?”

She hesitated for the longest time…

…but eventually she nodded, and reached out
and put her hand in mine.

We walked out together, and I pushed the
button for the elevator. I smiled to myself as she fussed over her
reflection in the black marble walls, trying to smooth out her
hair.

If I get my way, Lily, it’s going to be a LOT
more tangled in, oh, another hour or so.

We got in the elevator.

“Still freaking out?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“Let me see if I can take your mind off
it.”

I smashed every single button on the panel I
could hit with one swipe of my hand. They lit up in a smear of
glowing circles.

“What did you do
that
for?!” she cried
out.

“So I’d have a little more time for this,” I
said, and moved in and kissed her.

And not just any kiss – this was a full-on
‘sweep her off her feet’ play, a kiss you’d see from movies back in
the 40’s or 50’s, where the men were men and to hell with
propriety, they wanted what they wanted
right now.
The kind
of kiss that was sometimes preceded by a slap, but which almost
always ended up in bed, with the woman as a
very
willing
participant.

I could tell she was surprised, so I started
off slow – but I ramped up fast, until every ounce of my passion
for her shone through. I was trying to make love to her through a
kiss, in the hopes that maybe I could lure her back to where we’d
been up in the boardroom.

Metaphorically speaking, of course.

Mission accomplished. She basically just
melted in my arms. At first she didn’t resist – and then she
actively matched me, running her fingers through my hair as she
sighed and moaned.

But all good things must come to an end. As
we got closer to the main lobby, she started to fidget a little,
until she finally pushed me away.

I looked over at the control panel. “We have
five more floors,” I insisted, then kissed her again.

She giggled and let me go on for another
moment, but then she fought me off and started straightening her
clothes, apparently worried what Stanley the night guard would
think.