Page 14 of Vivacity
Then I prostituted myself for Thad, a belligerent arsehole older than my father, with skin beaten by decades of sun abuse to the colour and texture of walnuts and moobs for days, but he still made me lose my mind every time he ordered me about.
Bottom line: I’m a ho for an alpha guy.
A dominant personality will do it for me over a perfect body every time.
Happily for me, this dude looks as if he has both.
He settles in the chair like a man about to enjoy a private show, which is exactly what he is. I may have height on him in this position, but there’s no doubt who’s in control of this little scene.
‘Now you can unbutton your dress,slowly,starting at the top.’
I do as he says, enjoying the brush of my fingers against my skin as I work my way slowly down the rest of the big gold-and-enamel buttons. Enjoying those arresting grey eyes riveted to my body. If I take this job, which, let’s face it, I already know I will, we’ll fuck hundreds of times. There’s something almost sacred about uncovering myself for him for the first time, about preparing myself for him to profane me in whatever way he likes. It’s the allure of the unknown that makes this feel so thrilling.
His eyes lock onto the black lace of my bra as I arch forward to undo the lower buttons. When the last one is undone, I straighten up and pause, the dress hanging open like a coat, my soft curves and black lace lingerie on partial display for him. I remain leaning against the desk, letting my hands rest on it too. He hasn’t told me to take the dress off yet, and he’s about to find out that I’m as pliant in a sexual context as I am feisty out of it.
‘Stand up and take it off,’ he orders me. His body is still, his gaze rapt.
I push myself off the desk and tug the dress off my shoulders, shimmying a little so it slides down my arms like a coat. He holds out a hand and I pass it to him, watching as he leans over and lays it reverently on the floor beside him. Appreciation for Chanel will always win him brownie points.
He straightens up and stills. Everyone loves having praise and compliments lavished on them, but anything he could say right now would surely appear trite compared to the enraptured expression on his face. His eyes wander over my body, taking a leisurely perusal of the generous curves of my hips and tits, the decadent lace of my lingerie, and my bare legs, still in their red heels. Finally, our eyes lock, and he swallows.
‘Take off your bra.’
His voice is brusque. Husky. I reach behind me and unhook it. I know he’s seen me naked. I know he’s seen my portfolio, and I even know from Camille that he left alotof tissues in the office bin for a man who didn’t appear to be suffering from a cold. All of which is to say that, despite his history of hiring slim, sleek gym-bunnies from Seraph to date, I’m not worried that he’ll find my body too much.
On the contrary, I want to know what it feels like to have him gorge himself stupid on it.
The office is cool, and his gaze is hot, and my exposed nipples react accordingly, growing taut and achy.
He grips the chrome arms of the chair much like he gripped the edge of the desk:hard. When he speaks, his voice is a rasp of barely controlled need. ‘That’s very, very good. Now turn around.’
That I can do. I smile seductively and push off the desk, turning around like he asked. His face must be level with my arse, and I know what he’ll see. A scrap of black lace dissecting plump, tanned cheeks. No tan lines on this girl.
I can feel the scorch of his gaze on my bottom as surely as if his eyes were laser beams.
The chair creaks.
He’s standing up.
I sense the air move as he steps closer.
When he speaks, his voice comes from right behind me.
‘Now. Bend over.Slowly. I want to watch.’
While I didn’t necessarily expect today’s interview to take this turn, in this job you’re always prepared for nakedness. In this job, the layers underneath the interview outfit are as important as the outfit itself.
So my lingerie is perfect. My skin is buffed and waxed and moisturised, my tan freshly topped up from a cheeky couple of days of naked sunbathing on Thad’s super yacht before the party. In a nutshell, I’m primed and ready to give this guy a show.
I place both palms on his desk and slide them forward over the empty expanse of white as I hinge elegantly at the hips. I guess Eight’s dislike of any type of clutter is conducive to spontaneous sex on junk-free surfaces. And this beautiful slab of smooth white marble looks like it can handle a good railing.
As can I, my friend. As can I.
I slide my hands forward until I’m bent right over and my boobs hit the cold stone. I can’t help but feel a little like a sacrificial lamb. Eight’s intake of breath is audibly sharp, but he still hasn’t touched me. I suspect this man likes to exert as much control over himself as over everyone else.
I can’t resist giving my bum a little wiggle. ‘Well? I thought you had something to show me.’
Instantly, he’s right up against me, his wool trousers brushing against my bare thighs and a very nice erection pressing against my pussy. He grabs my hips, his thumbs dragging over my arse cheeks.
