Page 137 of Hopeless
“Beau,” she whispers between bruising kisses, hands running up under my shirt.
“I want these pants off. Now.”
“Beau.”
“I want you to walk back in there knowing that you’re mine. No matter what happens. No matter what anyone says.”
“What?”
“I want you to walk back in there looking freshly fucked so that no one questions a single thing about us. Especially not you.”
“Beau, there are customers … ” She trails off as I yank her jeans down her firm thighs, leaving them stretched there, and run my fingers over her panties.
“Bailey, shut up and let me fuck what belongs to me. We can talk later.”
“Yeah,” is her breathy response as I rub at the cotton thong that’s now wedged between her pussy lips.
“Turn around and bend over.” My voice is sharp, bordering on demanding, but she doesn’t flinch. She knows me well enough to know there are different facets of me that come out to play, depending on the day.
She tells me she likes all the versions of me, so I haven’t bothered hiding even the most vicious parts of myself from her. The ones I’ve always left overseas or on base. I don’t have to pretend those facets of me don’t exist with her.
I love her all the more for it.
Bailey spins, palms flat against the crudely constructed wall of two-by-fours. Her bare ass faces me, her head bowed while her body rises and falls under the weight of her panting.
“So obedient, Bailey.” I hook a finger under the T of her thong while my opposite hand presses flat on the small of her back to bend her over further.
“Yes, sir,” is her rushed reply. But this time she isn’t joking. She knows it makes me hard when she says it.
She knows me too damn well.
And yet, she doesn’t know everything.
“You need me to fill you up before I send you back in there to finish your job?”
“Yes.”
I land a firm swat on her ass that makes her jump. “Ask politely.”
Her breathing goes ragged, and I watch the tips of her fingers curl into the wall. “Yes, please.”
I spank her again and she moans. “Yes, please … ”
“Yes, please,sir.”
God, the way she emphasizes it. I shouldn’t be getting off on fucking a twenty-two-year-old at work and making her call me sir.
But I don’t let myself focus on it for too long. I quickly unbuckle my belt, pull my cock out, and fist it, slapping it down against the pink hand shape blooming on her ass.
Holding her panties to the side, I run the head of my cock through her wetness. “Fucking soaked, Bailey. Should I tease you until you drip down your thighs, make all your customers wait? Or would you rather be dripping my cum?”
“Your cum.” Her hips move back suggestively, and she peeks over her shoulder at me. Eyes still glassy, but not sad like before. “Please. Sir.”
“Fuck.” I shake my head and grind my molars as I notch myself inside her. “Are you sore, baby?”
We started off slowly, but we haven’t been lately.
“No, no.”
