Chapter 26

CHASTITY

My heart beats like a drum as I dash up the stairs, excited, and eager, and apprehensive. Yes, apprehensive. The kind that comes from feeling guilty for keeping him hanging.

When I reach the top of the stairs, I quickly check my reflection, my complexion flushing at the memory of Flynn holding me captive in this exact place to torture me. We’ve come so far since. I hope he feels the same.

I turn and make my way to my bedroom but don’t make it that far as a white shirted arm reaches out, pulling me into my home office.

‘Flynn.’ My hand rises as fall over my still rapidly beating heart as he closes the door. ‘You scared me.’ The room is dark; the light from the streetlamp outside the only light in the room.

‘Sorry, duchess. I couldn’t wait until they’ve all gone to get you alone.’

I inhale a deep breath and push it out through a slight pout. ‘I half expected to find you naked and spread out on my bed, a red ribbon tied around your dick. And where are your glasses?’

Flynn laughs, bringing me closer, his big hands on my hips. ‘You like those, yeah?’

I nod. ‘Hell, yeah.’

‘Maybe I’ll wear them for you next time.’ His gravelly chuckle shimmers down my spine. ‘But for now, I have another plan. No ribbon, but it does involve my dick.’

‘Oh, I’m intrigued.’

‘So I’ve got your attention?’ In an effort to restrain my smile, I bite my lip as I nod yes. ‘Good,’ he says with a nod, a nod that quickly turns to a shake of his head. ‘God, you look gorgeous.’ His gaze is dark, but his expression earnest as he devours me without touch.

‘You like my dress?’ I don’t mean to sound so coy, but his avid gaze is so brazen.

‘It’s almost a dress,’ he says, his eyes roaming before landing on the ragged lacy hem. ‘It looks like they forgot to put anything on under the belt.’

I laugh, and it feels so good. Time with Flynn is like stepping into a bath. The difference is, you never know what it’s going to be filled with. Warm sudsy water tonight. Familiar and sweetly scented and such a treat.

But as he drags his hand up my bare leg, the atmosphere changes.

‘I have missed you so much.’ His tone is deep and sincere.

‘I know. I’m sorry. I’ve missed you, too.’

‘It’s mad, isn’t it? A few weeks ago, I didn’t have you in my life, and then these past few days, not having you there left me with this gaping hole.’

I nod because I can’t speak. I know what he’s saying—can relate to it even because I’ve felt the same—but as he slips his index finger under the hem of my dress, just a fraction of an inch, my mind turns to mush. He begins running it back and forth across my thigh, electrifying the smooth skin as I silently will his fingers to explore a little higher.

‘I’ve fucking missed you.’ His lashes cast dark shadows against his cheeks as I lean in and slide my mouth across his. It’s just a glancing brush, but the pull of it is real as his hands fall to my lips, pulling me in for a second brush. A brush becomes a press of lips. A press of lips turning to a slide of tongues, just a bare moment before the kiss turns to something else. Something deep and passionate, grasping and owning. My back hits the door as Flynn slides his hand up the back of my thigh, grasping it to rest it against his hip. And he pins me there, the length of his hardness pressed into my heated core, and as he hums his appreciation of the moment, I feel the deep vibration all the way to my bones.

‘Are you going to give me my gift now?’ My voice is needy and rasping as his lips kiss their way down my neck.

‘Is that my cue to tell you I’m gonna give it to you hard?’

‘Oh, Flynn.’ I sigh, his tongue playing time to make you squirm with my ear. ‘You can give it to me any way you want. I like it all.’

‘What about if I want to give you it now. Nothing between us but skin.’

‘I’d say it’s probably not the right time of the month.’

‘No, babe,’ he says, pulling back to capture my gaze. ‘I mean, let’s make a baby.’

‘What?’ I can’t tell if the word sounds incredulous or a like a laugh. ‘That’s why you brought me in here?’

‘Well, I always wanted to fuck in an office, too. Does that count?’

‘Flynn, I have guests downstairs. People are here to celebrate my birthday. This is not a conversation for now.’ Though it strikes me as kind of freaky that it appears he’s been thinking the same things.

‘And some people are here to try to fuck you.’

‘Yes, you!’

‘Not just me, babe.’

‘Who—Tate? Are you talking about Tate?’

‘Come on, Chastity. I might be the lowly secretary, but even I can see him for what he is.’

‘And what exactly is he?’ I retort, my hand suddenly finding my hip.

‘A smarmy, smug, fucking chancer. The kind that would be out of your life before your undies even hit the deck.’

He might be right, but I’m not going to admit it.

‘He’s not a threat to you. Currently, you’re the only threat to you,’ I say, pointing one black polished nail in his chest.

‘Why’s that?’ he counters, leaning into my nail. Leaning into it, then lifting it to catch between his teeth.

‘Because it’s the twenty-first century,’ I whisper hiss. I want to shout, but I don’t want people to hear. ‘And you’re behaving like an arse.’

‘No, I’m behaving like a boyfriend. You’re just not used to the difference.’

I shake my head. ‘Boyfriend is such a pathetic title. What? Are we teenagers?’

‘I want to be more than your boyfriend,’ he whispers, stepping into me. ‘I mean it, Chastity. I want so much more, starting with a baby.’

‘You nutcase!’ I place my hand on his chest and push.

‘Yes,’ he retorts, covering my hand with his own. ‘I know you want to.’

‘We’re not talking about bringing home a puppy. What happened if this thing doesn’t work between us? What then?’

‘We’ll cross that bridge if we come to it. But I don’t think we will.’

‘Flynn, all we do is argue and fight!’

‘What’s wrong with that? I love fighting with you. And I’ll fight for you.’

His words and the sincerity in his tone, coupled with the look of intensity on his face blows me away. But only for a minute. Right about now maybe a cold wave of reality should sweep through the room, but I’m glad when it doesn’t. What I get instead is the kind of belly licking warmth you feel when someone tells you they love you.

‘You’re saying,’ I begin, the words slightly choked. ‘You’d give me a child, even if I don’t want to be with you?’

‘I’m not that selfless, babe. I want a promise from you. A promise that you’ll at least try to love me back. It’s been the best thing ever, falling in love with you. Fathering our child wouldn’t be a consolation prize.’

Who would’ve thought it? Flynn Phillips has the soul of a poet.

‘Don’t play with me.’

Like a slow burning fire, Flynn’s smile is slow to grow, but he doesn’t answer. And I’m not sure who reaches for the other first; all I know is we come together in that instant. I’ve never felt this kind of connection, this kind of need as I push him into the room, our mouths fused together and our fingers grasping. My hands shake with desperation as I fumble with his belt.

‘I can’t believe we’re doing this. I can’t believe we’re doing this now.’

‘You’ve got your hand around my cock,’ Flynn rasps. ‘Feels pretty fuckin’ real to me. But maybe you need convincing.’

In an instant, he spins me around, and I catch myself on my hands on the desk against the adjacent wall.

I want to touch him. Feel his skin. Fill my mouth with the solid feel of him. I want to—

Breath halts in my chest as his hands drag the lace of my dress up my thighs and over my arse.

‘You have a body that sonnets should be written about.’ His words are a rasping kind of appreciation as he pushes down on my lower back, coaxing me to stick my bottom out. ‘You are so gorgeous tonight. It just makes me wild with the need to mess you up.’

‘How will you do that?’ Wrong. So wrong. And yet, I can’t help but provide more encouragement. His answer sends pulsing waves through my core.

‘I’m gonna stick my cock in you.’ His words rasp my ear as he slips my thong to the side. ‘Make you come. Leave my come in you.’

‘Flynn,’ I whisper urgently. ‘We can’t be long. People will notice we’re miss—’

My words halt as I note his wicked smile, feeling the string to my thong snap in his hands. I have no words, but I have plenty of noises as he drops to his feet and slips his tongue between my legs.

One lick and my legs turn to jelly. Two and I’m crying out.

‘Shush, duchess,’ he rasps, his tone thick with want. ‘You don’t want people knocking the door down thinking I’m fucking you up.’

‘D-door doesn’t have a lock,’ I pant, my fingertips scrabbling against the desk as though to hold me up.

‘All the more reason to keep your joy to yourself.’

Flynn’s broad tongue swipes the length of me before he buries himself between my splayed legs. His tongue is magic and his dirty whispers divine as he tells how he can’t wait to fill me. To own me. That he can feel my cum dripping across his tongue.

It’s hard to remember those months I couldn’t climax, not with this master between my legs, licking and tasting, whispering how my pussy makes him drunk. Feeling him spread me wider with his large hands as he rasps that he has his cock in his hand.

He makes me frantic—makes me rock back against him shamelessly. Against his mouth and his tongue. Against the roughness of his stubble as it abrades and burns.

‘Oh, God!’ I dip my head to the warm surface of the desk as I lose my mind to his commands.

‘That’s it, duchess. Let me feel that pussy pulse.’

I’m desperate. To touch him—desperate for him to fill me. I can’t think—my mind is empty for everything except the intense pressure building between my legs.

‘Flynn! I can’t . . .’

‘I want . . .’

‘I need . . .’

So goes my litany of pleasure as my climax, white hot and intense, explodes between my legs.

And the last thing my sentient mind processes?

‘That’s it. Ride my fuckin’ face.’

Flat against the polished surface of my desk, I open my mouth to speak when the feel of him at my entrance steals my breath. Steals my breath, then forces it out from my chest as he thrusts inside. I’m so wet my body offers no resistance, and in that one push, we’re how he wanted us to be. Skin to skin.

‘Fuck!’ As my body pulses around him, Flynn dips his knees, and if I’m not mistaken, grits his teeth against the pleasure. ‘Ah, what this?’

The very particular tone of his voice brings my head up from the desk. I groan, a sign of desire and distress, as Flynn’s studio sequence flickers to life on my computer screen.

‘You beautiful, dirty girl. Have you been watching me fuck my hand this week?’

‘Just once or twenty times,’ I whisper, pushing back against him as onscreen Flynn undulates, his hard cock in his hand, and I shiver from pleasure as the now Flynn flexes his thighs against mine from behind.

‘Oh, God,’ I whisper, or maybe groan—quietly—as he moves back, then into me again oh-so slowly. He’s so large on screen, holding himself in two hands, and so large inside me. So impossibly hard. How can I be quiet? How can I take this without any noise?

‘You’ll take it,’ he grunts. ‘Take it all. You like watching me wank.’ The roughness of his expression and the grunt in his tone makes my inside pulse. ‘Tell me,’ he adds urgently—Tell. Me—timed with his thrusts.

‘Yes! Yes, I like watching you.’

‘Have you touched yourself?’

‘Yes! In the chair. In my bed, with my laptop between my legs.’

‘Did you come?’ My eyes go wide as he thrusts so hard I almost kiss the screen. ‘I-I can’t. Can’t speak.’

‘Yes, you can,’ he says, as though prepping me for a race. You can do it!

‘I-I can’t concentrate when you’re inside me.’ My words are garbled, my hands sliding across the desk to grip the sides.

‘If I can keep one eye on the screen and one on my cock between your legs, I’m pretty sure you can fuck and talk.’

I shoot him a glare over my shoulder, ignoring his near silent chuckle as he delivers another flex of his hips.

‘Tell me about this.’

‘Y-your expression,’ I admit. ‘I’ve never seen anything so sexy. I-I think I might have an issue because I keep re-watching the bit where you bite my knickers as though you’re out of your mind.’

I recall the absolute beauty in his need. The craving I felt for him. The absolute certainty that I could come for him. My fingers as they slid on my clit as I’d reached the place that had been hiding from me.

‘Fuck, yes!’ he hisses, grinding against me. ‘I am out of my mind. Out. Of my. Goddamned mind. For you.’ He punctuates each of his words with his hips, then lifts my face to meet his to deliver a punishing kiss.

‘Oh, God,’ I gasp, as he releases my chin, his arm sliding around my body, his fingers slipping between my legs. I’m wet—so wet—I can hear it in the meeting of our bodies. Feel it as it aids his slide and coats my thighs.

‘Shush.’ How can that sound amused? And how? Is there such a thing as silent fucking?

‘No . . . one . . . listening . . .would be fooled . . . into t-thinking were we’re . . . doing anything else o-other than . . . f-fucking!’

‘It’s what we do best, my dirty little fuck doll.’ I narrow my eyes even though the humour rings clear in his tone.

‘Listen,’ his voice rumbles, his body going still. Footsteps sound in the hallway—high heels on the wood. From under the doorway, the light cuts out as though someone is standing on the opposite side.

I bite my lip so hard I might taste blood as Flynn makes a V with his fingers, sliding them from my clit to between my legs, touching me and touching himself. I’m so swollen, the pressure of my orgasm making me fit to burst. My eyes roll back, my muscles trembling, taut and tense, everything centred between my legs and pulsing with my silent release.

Flynn doesn’t move or speak as my body throbs around him. And as the heels draw away, I lie my cheek on the warm surface of the desk, preparing myself to take what he has to give, again and again. One solid thrust. Two. Then a third before his thrusts speed up, the sound of skin slapping and his sharp grunts and rough groans twisting my pleasure higher somehow. It’s like an agenda change; from something good to something absolutely necessary as he works himself deeper and faster inside my body until, finally, he stifles a long, rough groan by pressing his mouth against my neck.

‘I think I like office fucking,’ he rasps, kissing my cheek.

I can’t answer. I don’t think I can speak, let alone think. But when he pulls out of me I groan—a groan he joins me in as he makes some comment I don’t think I can repeat.

A beat later, there’s a brush of material between my legs.

‘What are you using?’ I twist my head over my shoulder to try to look.

‘Your knickers,’ he replies with a sinful smile. I huff but don’t truly answer. I’ll just slip into my bedroom and grab a clean pair. ‘It’ll be like a secret between us. I know you’ll have no undies on, and you’ll know I’m sporting a stiffy because of you.’

I push up from my hands and turn to face him. ‘You’re ridiculous, you know that?’

He nods, something peculiar settling in his gaze. ‘You might’ve mentioned it once or twice,’ he answers, his lips meeting mine, brief yet sweet. ‘One thing’s for sure. I’m ridiculously in love with you.’