“You’ve had a lot to drink, and it’s inappropriate.”
“Why? I want this.”
“You don’t know what you want, Cassius.”
“Like fuck I don’t. You’re hot as fuck, Harmon. Trust me. I want this.”
He watches me, eyes narrowing slightly. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“I’ll say it again. You are hot as fuck,” I repeat slowly. “I want this.” I press my hand to his chest, then slide it up over his shoulder and to the back of his neck. Tentatively, I lean back in. “Please,” I whisper against his lips.
He doesn’t stop me when I kiss him again, but he doesn’t kiss me back. I press my lips to his, then to the corner of his mouth. His jaw. His cheek. And then I make my way back to his mouth.
That’s when my world is flipped upside down. My back is on the couch, and Harmon is on top of me, his hard cock pressedagainst mine, his firm body settled between my legs, one hand gripping my hips, bruising my skin.
“How do you do this?” he mutters, his mouth going to my neck.
“I didn’t do anything,” I pant, turning my head to the side and allowing him more room.
“You make me want you. Make me… break the rules,” he complains but does nothing to stop. If anything, he’s moving faster. His lips dragging along my skin, tongue tasting and teeth nipping.
“Let me taste you,” I beg. “Please. I promise you won’t regret it.”
He pulls back, looking down at me. I see him warring with himself, and I’m certain he’s going to stop. He’s going to pull back and tell me this is too much, I’m drunk, and tell me to go to bed.
“No,” he says. Disappointment washes over me like a wave. “If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it right.”
“What does that mean?” I breathe out.
“Have you been with anyone since you started working for me?”
Strange how he can simply state that I work for him. Even now. Of course, I ignore that though, because who the fuck cares?
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. I swear.”
He sits back on his knees and yanks on his tie until it’s off and he tosses it away. “Neither have I.”
His hands go to the button on my slacks and he flicks it open, tugging my pants down to free my dick before I can say a word.
“So beautiful,” he murmurs before he looks me in the eye and says, “Get up and get naked.”
I scramble off the couch and do exactly as he said. I thought I was drunk before, I’ve somehow sobered up like my brain knows it doesn’t want to miss this. As I work on getting naked, Harmon does the same, leaving nothing but his black boxer briefs on which I swear he did on purpose so I can’t see him. I’ve never seen him naked before, and I want to know what his cock looks like. I bet it’s wonderful.
I can see the rest of him though, and holy fuck, this man is so hot. I’ve seen him in a suit, in his normal clothes, and in pajamas, but I’ve never seen this much of him. He’s not built like an athlete, but he’s toned in all the right spots with beautiful curves and the perfect amount of hair covering his chest and firm stomach. His arms and legs are the most toned, like he runs and does pushups or something.
He sits back on the couch and pats his lap, so I climb over him, resting my hands on his shoulders to steady myself. He holds his hand up to my mouth. I know what he wants without having to ask, so I spit into his palm and his hand slides around me, finding my hole like a pro, spreading my spit over it before pushing a finger inside. I jerk forward, hissing, my nails digging into his skin.
“You better not come,” he says.
“I’ll try,” I grit out, squeezing my eyes shut as he fucks my hole, stretching me to make room for another finger.
“We don’t have any lube. Are you sure you still want this?” he growls.
“Fuck… yes.”