Abruptly, Corey pulls away, and I almost whimper at the loss of his touch. He’s breathing hard as he brings his hand—the one that had been stroking me, that has a shimmer of my wetness on his fingers—to his mouth. My core clenches as he slips those wet fingers between his lips, sucking them clean.
This man is going to ruin me. And I’m going to let him, because it’s going to feel so fucking good.
“Bex,” he murmurs. “Nothing would give me greater pleasure than getting on my knees for you.”
My pulse pounds in my clit. “Right here? Now?”
“Anywhere, but especially right now. I am dying to taste more of you, Bex, and I am not above begging.”
Swallowing hard, I nod. “Then, yes. Please.”
Corey grins like the Cheshire Cat, taking a moment to roll up the sleeves of his shirt, exposing those muscular, thick forearms. His eyes darken with lust as he says, “Now be a good girl, turn around, and put your hands on the glass.”
My heart is going to beat out of my chest. As I turn to face the glass, I take in the clubbers and dancers below, oblivious to what’s about to happen in this office above them. It feels voyeuristic, although I’m the one watchingandgetting the action.
I place my palms on the cool glass, and I sigh in slight relief. Every part of me is tingling with warmth, and the coolness of the glass feels good. I can’t see him, but I can feel Corey behind me, pacing like a predator ready to pounce on his prey.
“Stick that ass out, Bex,” he says, hungrily.
I slide my feet back a bit, shimmying my hips to give him a bit of a show. Not for the first time in the last few days, it strikes me how brazen and sexually bold being with Corey makes me. I have never acted like this in the past, with any boyfriend or hookup… but, then again, none of them made me feel the way Corey makes me feel. Seen. Wanted. Desired.
He taps my right heel with his shoe. “Spread those legs, sugar.”
As I follow his directions, I murmur, “Oh, god.” I am so turned on right now, so overwhelmed with lust for this man, it won’t take me long to finish once he has his hands on me.
It feels like an eternity before I feel Corey press against me, his arousal unmistakably hard against my ass. His hands slot into the curves of my waist, but otherwise, he remains still. “Bex,” he sighs my name like it’s aprayer. I wait for him to say more, but he simply drops to his knees, as he promised he would.
His hands are strong and warm, sliding from my waist down, over my ass, to the backs of my thighs. Corey slides them up, lifting my dress up, exposing my ass and the silky black thong I selected earlier this evening. It certainly was not a thought in my mind that Corey would see said thong, and now here he is, on his knees, massaging the soft skin of my inner thighs, pressing his nose to the silky fabric between my legs and inhaling deeply.
“Oh, god, Corey,” I can’t help but moan.
He chuckles, tickling my sensitive area with his hot breath. “I didn’t realize you were so religious, Bex. Tell me,” he says, trailing kisses along my inner thighs. “Which god are you calling out for?”
Before I can respond, he swipes my thong to the side and firmly swipes his tongue from my clit to my ass. My knee gives out, and I stumble slightly before Corey’s hand is there, supporting me. His tongue returns to my clit, swirling soft circles around it before he sucks it into his mouth.
“You, Corey,” I moan, resisting the urge to grind my hips against his face.
“Me?” Corey asks, teasing me. He slaps my ass softly. “Don’t hold back, baby. If you want to ride my face, fuckingride my face.”
A noise, which can only be described as feral, escapes my mouth, and I give in. My hips shift down against his lips, his tongue, his face. Corey is everywhere—his hands kneading and slapping at my ass, his tongue stroking me, his lips devouring me, my wetness—as if I were more delicious than our Oliver King meal earlier thisevening.
Corey mumbles praises against my pussy, like “such a good girl” and “I love how wet you are for me,” and it’s not long before I feel the onslaught of my orgasm.
I’m not good at orgasms. Let me clarify. I can get there just fine on my own with the little toy I have back in my apartment, but it’s getting there with someone else that’s always been challenging. After a while, I just assumed the problem was me.
But here, with Corey’s face between my thighs, on the precipice of what might be the best orgasm of my life, I realize how wrong I’ve been. It wasn’t me at all.
“I’m gonna come,” I manage to sputter out between my moans.
“Oh, Bex, you’re gonna do more than that,” Corey growls. Before I can even question that statement, he slips two fingers inside me, curling them over and over on a spot I’ve clearly never discovered before. The shift is explosive, and I’m not sure when or where my orgasm begins, because I feel wave after wave of pleasure everywhere.
Suddenly, something releases from my core and a gush of wetness trickles down between my thighs, probably all over Corey’s face. I mumble incoherently, mixes of “thank you” and “I’m so sorry.” Waves of pleasure continue washing over me, my core clenching with each gush, and I both wonder where and when it will end and pray to God it never does. After a few moments, Corey slowly removes his fingers and takes his time, lapping up the mess I’ve made with his tongue.
By the time he’s done and shifts back to standing, I’m able to open my eyes. I can’t remember when I screwed them shut, but it’s almost shocking to see the dancefloor continuing on below us, as if the most magnificent fucking thing hadn’t just happened in this office.
Corey steps closer, wrapping his arms around me from behind, pressing his lips to the back of my neck. “Let’s get you standing up now,”he says, one hand covering mine and prying it from its place against the glass. Corey stands me up, turns me toward him, and pulls me in close. My head rests against his chest, and I can feel his heart pounding still, the same as mine.
He’s gently stroking my back, my arms, my hair, as he whispers, “I’ve got you.”
