Chapter Five
Callum
I was going to hell. I was going to hell, and I’d be poked by imps and satyrs for all eternity because I was bloody well breaking every rule I had. On top of it all, I knew I was being a right arsehole. There was no way around it. Seth had been my best friend for over twenty years, had trusted me, and I was about to reward that trust by defiling his baby girl.
Okay, I wasn’t defiling her in my office. Something that grand called for moonlit dinners and the finest orchestral accompaniment coming from the stereo in my penthouse. Having sex with her for the first time would be silk sheets and soft pillows. All the fairytale trimmings that someone as precious as Iris truly deserved. There was something about her, something magnetic. Something that was dragging me down to the depths of depravity.
And I was gleefully telling Satan to save me a seat.
But if it was the price I had to pay for this little taste of heaven, the slight hint of mint on her lips and the scent of lavender wafting from her skin, then I’d gladly take it.
I deepened our kiss until my tongue was stroking her, dancing for dominance with it in a ferocious rhythm. She was mine, and I wanted her to know that. My hand slid down her side and gripped the ample curves of her hips. She was a short, petite thing, but curvy in all the right ways, in ways I hadn’t fully explored in years. I was so sick of stick thin models and debutantes who never ate. Having a real woman—even one so young—was a true pleasure. She moaned in desire at my assault and thrust her body against mine. My cock was hard already, straining through the fabric of my trousers, but I reminded myself to cool it. Not here. It wasn’t the place. I didn’t shit where I ate, and I only went so far with anyone in my offices. This was the furthest I’d ever gone.
And again, when it was time for more with Iris, it would be special.
I just needed to feel her right now, especially after last night.
I pulled away from her, and she mewled her disapproval. Shaking my head, I brought my forefinger to my lips, mimicking the sign for silence. “Now, we’re going to play a game, and your goal is to not make a sound. We don’t want that witch Frances poking her head back here, do we, my vixen?”
Her eyes widened, but she didn’t speak. Instead, she nodded and clamped her lips together tightly. Oh, a game rooster, exactly what I wanted.
“Now, luv, I’m going to stroke your sweet quim until I make you come so hard you’ll scramble your brains.” I was whispering everything, keeping my voice low too. This was just between us, and I didn’t need the whole office spying in on my time and spreading rumors. “Do you want that, vixen?”
She nodded again, chocolate brown eyes brimming with sincerity.
And need.
I trailed one hand down the length of her body, even as the other squeezed her juicy, rounded ass. She was wearing a pencil skirt today, one that hugged every curve of her body in all the right ways, and one that promised perfect access to her dripping pussy. I stroked the fabric of her panties, a plain bit of cotton she’d worn. Always professional, this one.
Well, except when she was breaking every rule for me.
She shivered under my touch, and my cock strained once more against my trousers.
“You’re so ready, aren’t you?”
She nodded.
“Do you want me to tear this fabric off?”
She shook her head and whispered just a bit. “It’s not exactly my sexy underwear. It won’t snap right off. I can slip out of it.”
I wanted to argue that point, but I was used to tearing through thongs and silky things, not plain cotton underwear. I honestly wasn’t sure what would happen, and I was intrigued by watching my little vixen grow more emboldened by the minute, to watch her take such an active part in her pleasure.
“True,” I reluctantly admitted. “But you’ll need to save it for later too. Best to keep in mind that we’re still at work.”
Iris gulped, those brown eyes going wide. “I don’t even know what I’m doing. I’m never like this.”
I smirked at her, giving the lass my full charm. “You’re under my spell, vixen, and we both know you want to be.”
She grinned hesitantly and stepped away from my grasp, just long enough to ease off the cotton panties she’d been wearing. I was fucking glad she wasn’t wearing anything as bullshit as hose, glad that women of her generation didn’t bother with such shite. It had always been a pain, trying to massage a willing clit through nylons. Not here. Now I had my hand over the smoothness of her skin. Reaching up, I slid my fingers under the hem of her skirt. My fingers found the wet, dripping skin of her folds first, the outer labia snuggling the warm quim underneath.
I pushed one finger in deeper as she breathed in sharply, as far into the core of her sweet pussy as I could. Jesus, was she tight, and I knew then that she’d never actually had a man touch her as I was doing now. Even though my vixen was a natural at seduction, I’d already suspected she was untouched. Virgin territory, quite literally, and I was damn well staking my claim.
My thumb found the rounded nub of her clit, and I pressed on it. She started to open her mouth, probably to scream, but I covered her lips with my hand. She swallowed hard and then bit her lips tightly. Her eyes were trained on me.
I nodded. “Remember, vixen,” I whispered. “Not a sound.”
She inclined her head just a bit, and I figured that was her sign of agreement. Maybe she was too addled to nod, maybe she was having a hard time concentrating. I thought that would happen to me too if someone were caressing my dick. But the coherent thought seemed to win out, and she clamped her mouth shut again without being prompted a second time.
“That’s my good girl,” I said, my lilt strong in my voice.
A second finger joined the first deep in her pussy. Her juices sluiced over my hand, wet and hot, and I relished the feel of it, the fact that my vixen was dripping and waiting for me. It had been a long while since I’d deflowered a virgin. They were usually more hesitant, girls who started and stopped with the fear of the unknown. Not Iris. She was a rare bloom waiting to open and ripen just for me.
I slid in a third finger and with my thumb ensured I was pressed up tightly against her clit. She bucked against me like a wild horse, like a creature set feral and free. Grinning, I pressed again and started working my fingers in and out in a long, sensuous rhythm.
She eyed the door before whispering back at me. “Faster…please, Callum.”
I kept up my torturously slow pace. After all these years, I knew the right beat to match to make a woman scream, to leave her coming with my name on her lips. It was a bit metaphorical in this case. I didn’t want her bringing Frances running, but I loved the way she moaned and mewled under my onslaught, the way I could feel that her body was truly mine.
She rolled her hips against my hands, and even I couldn’t resist any longer. My hand moved at a furious pace as I drove my three fingers in and out of her, plumbing her depths. My thumb rolled and teased her clit with expert skill. She bit her lip and bucked against me; hell, the lass bit her lip so hard in her struggle to stay quiet that I feared she might draw blood. Her face was flushed, and the sweet heat of her quim was exquisite. She came soon, just as my hand reached a frantic rhythm I never thought I’d be able to keep up, one so frenetic and fierce that it must have been pure instinct driving me.
Iris rolled her head back but didn’t make a sound as her body pressed against the hand cradling her upper thigh. Her legs shook, and I removed myself from her sweet pussy so I could help keep her upright. Great spasms racked her body, and she let her forehead fall down against my shoulder. Iris’s breath came in great, shuddering gasps as I eased her to a chair and then made short work striding to my en suite bathroom. First, I cleaned myself. Then, grabbing a towel and a glass of fresh water, I returned to my vixen so she could wash off and gather more strength.
When I set the towel and cup in her hands, she was no longer shaking. Her pupils were still widely dilated, and she seemed like she was on cloud nine, but she was at least steady and breathing normally.
“So,” I started, unable to keep the pride from my voice, that swagger. It drove women wild and, after all, it wasn’t bragging if you could back it up. “How was your first time?”
Iris’s face stiffened even as she worked quickly at collecting herself and resettling her skirt and underwear. The glass was in her hand then as she sipped it. “I’m not a virgin, and this wasn’t my first time.”
I paused, realizing I’d hit a nerve. This session today was the best I’d had in months…no, years. I didn’t want to startle her, even though I could tell this was her first time. She was as inexperienced as a nymph born out of the sea, as a girl fresh off the bus and seeking her fortune as an actress in Los Angeles from any small hick town in the United States. It was obvious. But if it made her happier to keep up the pretense she was far more experienced than she actually was, well…
So be it.
“Alright, vixen. Now, take all the time you need to get cleaned up and comfortable. We’ll leave here with the dictation I needed on a client contract anyway. No one will be any the wiser. I can’t have your dad coming after me with a shotgun as you yanks tend to do, and I don’t want anyone talking bad against you.”
She nodded. “I’ve never done anything like this with a boss before.”
I slid back into my chair and tented my fingers in front of me on my desk. “I didn’t think you’re the type of girl who did. If it makes you feel better, you can tell anyone back on campus that I’m just the big, bad wolf who seduced you.”
She shook her head, and it made her luscious, dark hair cascade over her face. My dick was achingly hard, but when I took pleasure in her fully, it would be on my terms and in my penthouse. Until then, I was taking just enough pleasure in bringing her to climax.
“I just…Callum,” she said, her voice steadying. “I don’t just do this for anyone. I’m not trying to curry extra favor here or manipulate anything.”
I wanted to laugh at that. She was like a lamb to the slaughter with me. If anyone had to worry about being manipulated, it was she and not I. Still, I kept my features schooled to neutral. It was oddly sweet that she was worried about me, worried that I might think she really was a vixen trying to spin my head in all sorts of cockeyed directions.
“Luv, I’m not worried about that, and it’s like we agreed to earlier.”
“Just seeing where this goes?”
I nodded briskly. “Neither of us are fools, and we have an expiration date on this. But until then, I agree we ride this out, see where it all goes. Like tonight.”
She blanched, her eyes growing wide and her olive skin pale. “What?”
“Tonight. You and I will do dinner. What else did you think I had in mind?” I asked, winking at her.
Color returned to her cheeks. “I guess I thought that we were…”
“Oh, we’ll definitely do that, and I intend to do so much more with you than thrust my hand deep inside that tight little pussy of yours, luv.”
Her blush bloomed across her face and spread to the tips of her ears. “Wow.”
“But I’d also like to get inside that head of yours too. So, conversation, a bit of something to keep us from being peckish. You do eat French food, right?”
“My dad took us to this fancy place in D.C. once. I was twelve, and he insisted that we try the snails. I spit it out in a napkin, and he freaked out at me. So if snails are involved, count me out.”
“It’s a five-star experience with sensual and amazing private dining. They have steaks and seafood too.” I chuckled at her naiveté. Perhaps my old college friend hadn’t yet trained Iris to be the corporate shark and sophisticate she needed to be to run his company someday. That was fine. I was more than happy to help. “You can have whatever you like, and I promise no snail shall touch your lips.” Standing, I stepped around the desk and leaned down to rub her shoulders. “But other things just might.”
She chuckled, and her face was almost as bright as a fire hydrant. “I…wow.”
“You said that already, vixen,” I said, stroking her cheek with one hand. “Be ready at your place, and I’ll bring the limo around for you tonight at eight sharp. Then we can actually chat and get food. Whatever happens, happens, right? But no, luv, I’m not only interested in you for your amazing body.”
She frowned. “What else would matter?”
“That you’re caring. You were more worried about my carpet than your own bleeding body. That you’re ambitious. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t have hesitated to start up with me, wouldn’t have put your career first. And I watched you for a bit with your friend last night. You light up a room, even sitting at the bar. So yes, I want to get to know that girl very well too.”
“Thank you.” She stood, straightened her skirt, and put her hair up in a ponytail. “Which place?”
“The Pearl Brasserie, have you heard of it?”
“No, but I can’t exactly afford to go there on a student salary.” She chuckled then sobered. “Oh, what’s the dress code?”
“Whatever knocks my knickers off, lass. How about that?”