Read Just One Night. Part 3 Online

Authors: Elle Casey

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Romantic Comedy, #Contemporary Women, #Humorous, #Sagas

Just One Night. Part 3 (10 page)

BOOK: Just One Night. Part 3

I cannot stop laughing. He looks like he’s fifteen and being offered the first feel-up of his life.

“Please don’t laugh,” he begs. “You’re torturing me. As usual, you are turning me into a raving loon, controlled by his dick.”

I slowly slide the zipper down on my skirt and drop it to the floor. I leave my heels on and kneel down on the ground. “Poor baby. I think we can take care of your problem.”

I take his heavy dick into my hand and lick the tip of it. It’s salty, and I can tell he’s barely holding back. Sliding my tongue down the sides, I get it moist enough for my mouth to move around it and down the shaft with ease. He moans and his hands fist at his sides.

“Darling … you … ahhh … yes, that’s it, love, that’s it…”

My hand moves down and up, building a slow rhythm as my mouth moves in synch. My lips bump over the engorged veins and the head of his cock and he trembles with the effort of holding back. He’s trying to be polite, but I don’t want him to be.

I pause so I can sit on the chair. Looking up, I find him staring down at me with a storm in his eyes. “Do you want me to keep doing that or do you want to put it here?” I slide a finger between my breasts.

He frowns. “Decisions, decisions …” And then he steps forward and rests his cock on my chest. “This is a dream come true you know. I will die a happy man now with no regrets.”

I smile as I push my breasts together more firmly, capturing his hard length between them. “I’m glad I could make that happen for you.”

He moves forward and back, pushing into me as his cock slides up and down between my breasts. The head pops out the top and he gasps, he moans as it draws back inside and disappears, surrounded by my flesh. When he pauses for a moment, I lean down and moisten him again with my mouth to ease the friction. He begins again, picking up the pace. I love watching the expression on his face. He’s in some other place as he drowns in the sensations.

“Darling, it feels tremendous … I can’t … I don’t think I can hold back for very much longer.” He puts his hands on my shoulders, his fingers digging in. I don’t mind because I know he’s beyond controlling himself.

I reach down with one hand and cup his balls. He moans and thrusts several times, sweat dripping down from his temples to fall on his chest and arms.

“No, wait,” he says, stepping back, stumbling almost on the chair behind him. “Wait … wait…” He lets me go and runs a hand through his hair as he stares at the ceiling. His hard cocks juts out between us, pointed right at me.

“Is everything okay?” I ask, standing. I take his length in hand and stroke it gently, up and down.

He looks at me, almost confused, like he didn’t even remember I was there. “What?” His lids fall closed as he pulses his hips in time with my rhythm. Then he opens his eyes and stops moving.

I smile. “Are you okay?”

He pulls me against him and kisses me hard before answering. “Yes. I’m just out of my mind with wanting to fuck you. You’ve turned me into a rutting randy bastard.”

He pushes me sideways and then back before I can respond. “Sit down here.”

The cold wood surface of the conference room table is behind me, pressing into my thighs.

“Are you sure?” I look at the door over his shoulder.

He turns around and leaves me to lock it. He’s back before I can even take a calming breath. “Yes, I’m sure. Move back a bit.”

I raise myself up and then hike my cheeks over the edge of the table. The wood is cold on my butt cheeks but his body is hot between my thighs. It makes me shiver. He’s leaning down kissing me and then I forget all about where I am. His cock is pressing into my softest parts.

“Condom?” I ask between kisses.

“Of course,” he says, distractedly. He fishes through his wallet that was on the floor, finds one, and puts it on. “Are you ready for me?” he asks with an apologetic expression. “I’d like to spend more time loving your body, but I must admit I’m beginning to suffer a little at the moment. I’ve been fantasizing about you way too much, apparently.”

“Suffer? As in pain?” I take his cock in hand and guide it towards my entrance. “We can’t have that. No pain, only pleasure.”

He moves in swiftly, his expression going dark, and takes me by the back of the head, a fistful of hair twisting around his fingers. “Maybe a little bit of pain,” he says in a dangerous tone. And then he slowly moves his hard dick into me, inch by inch, until he’s fully pressed against me and stretching me to the limit. He pulls my head back until I’m looking up at him and into his very dark eyes.

“Maybe a little,” I whisper.



I AM LITERALLY THROBBING WITH need. I’m going to blow, and it’s going to be big. She’s too beautiful. Too wet. Too willing to let me do whatever I want. And even when I’m turning into an animal, pulling on her soft hair, forcing her to let me in when she’s had none of my soft touches first, she begs me with her eyes, her mouth, and her words to give it all to her. And so I will, because I am a gentleman, and gentlemen must always strive to please their ladies.

I bury my cock into her soft, swollen folds. I go in deep, using my free hand to draw her arse closer to me, penetrating her until I touch the end of her. And then I thrust into her depths with force. Almost as hard as I can, and she screams in response. It’s a happy scream, I hope.

Perhaps I’ve hurt her a little, but when I feel her walls grab hold of me and pulse in response, her hips wiggle to get closer, and her hands gripping me and drawing me near, I know she wants more. I press into her, I grind, I make sure to rub up against her hard nub over and over. I want her to beg. I want her to feel the way I do, so neither of us ever wants to leave again.

“Oh, god,” she whispers. She may also be crying. Her voice pleads with me. “Do it again,” she begs.

And so I oblige her. I pull out very slowly, careful not to lose our touch, our connection … and when I’m almost out of her, I reverse direction and begin the trip back. Centimeter by centimeter, I sink myself into her heat again, ever so slowly because I want her to let me in, to relax, to not hold back. It’s like coming home as her insides collapse around me, surrounding me in slippery heat. I want to weep with the desire I have for her. I want to yell too, like a flying man hanging from vines in the jungle. I have conquered this woman. All that’s left is the taking.

I ram the last bit of my length into her and then give her several sharp thrusts, in and out, shaking her entire body with the force of it. I wrap both arms around her tightly, keeping hold of her hair with one hand, digging my fingers into her back with the other.

Leaning down, I nip her shoulder. And I never stop pumping her, filling her with me. I’m no longer just a man. I’m something savage that wants to consume her. Blood surges to my cock and fills it, making it harder and thicker. I can feel every millimeter of her around me. I never want to leave this place.

She turns her face into my chest and bites me back. The pain, the fight in her, makes me fuck her harder. I reach under her arms and slide both hands into her hair, pulling and forcing her to show her neck. I lean down and kiss her there as I thrust in and pull back only to go again. I suck her skin hard, and then lick it to let her know I don’t mean to cause her pain. I could force her to do what I want, but I would never. It’s enough that she would let me. I really don’t know who I am right now, but I won’t question it. It feels too right to be wrong. The pleasure is building, guiding my rhythm. I am close to losing control.

Then she’s kissing me and licking me to apologize for leaving my skin smarting from her sharp teeth, and I’m falling over the edge. She moans and I moan too. One of the chairs next to me falls on its side and I kick it out of the way. She’s scratching me, scoring the skin of my back and making it sting. I love it. I’m going to fuck her to death. I’m going to end her.

“Oh God, William! I’m going to come!”

Is it the shaking and convulsing of her entire body? The tone of her voice that tells me she’s surprised and overwhelmed? The rhythmic tightening of her muscles against my cock? The word
? I’m not sure. But suddenly I lose control too, and we’re both crashing into each other over and over.

There’s no pain, only pleasure. I can’t get enough. I can’t quite get there. I’m falling into an abyss. I don’t know who I am. I don’t know who she is. Where am I? What’s happening? Are we dying?

Someone’s shouting. Someone’s crying. And then we’re falling. My head hits a chair on the way down and I see stars. Or maybe I’m still standing and I see stars. I have no idea. The sun has gone down and the room is bathed in darkness. My cock has exploded and there is no more sex left in me. I can’t even breathe properly.

As I attempt to catch my breath and reorient myself, my mind wanders. I come to several conclusions as I rest my hands against her sweaty thighs.

First, I am still standing and I have not hit my head. I’ll have to ask Jennifer if she walloped me with something in the heat of the moment. I shall forgive her if she did.

Second, we are still alone in the conference room, although Jennifer is now lying on her back across my table with her arms out the side and her hair fanned all round her face. I shall never have another meeting in here again without thinking of this moment. I’m surprised at the tender feeling this evokes in my heart.

Third, my limp dick and the sadly dangling condom clinging to the bell end is about to make a mess of my conference room floor. I wish I cared enough to do something about it, but leaving the she-devil landlord with a stain on her carpet gives me a sick sort of satisfaction. Edward would be so proud.

And finally, I realize as I stroke the soft skin of Jennifer’s belly and thighs, that if I walk outside this building and get hit by a car tonight, I will have only one regret. I lied to Jennifer earlier when I said I would have none. I would be ever so sorry if I never got to do this with her again. The idea that someone else would, that someone would take her away from me, has me seeing red. This is the precise moment when I realize that I am in some very deep trouble. So much for a life without complications.

Part 4

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Elle Casey
is a prolific American writer who lives in Southern France with her husband, three kids, and several furry friends. She writes in several genre and publishes an average of one full-length novel per month.

A personal note from Elle …

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