“You have no idea how much I’m looking forward to seeing you again, darling,” he’d told her huskily. “I may lock you in my bedroom all weekend. After being celibate for over two years now I can’t even go four days without you.”
Tessa knew the feeling all too well. Sex with Peter had been so infrequent and so frustratingly unsatisfying that she hadn’t known what a normal, healthy sexual relationship was really like. But even after such a brief time with Ian, her body craved him almost constantly. She wasn’t sure how she was going to hold back the urge to fling herself into his arms when he walked through the office any minute now.
“Ah, and he’s arrived,” murmured Kevin in a hushed tone. “What suit is it today, Gina?”
Gina glanced up as Ian began to walk past their cubicles. “It’s the black pinstriped Dolce & Gabbana. He must have a hot date tonight, usually only wears that one on special occasions.”
Tessa couldn’t hold back the small smile that crossed her face, first from knowing that Ian’s “hot date” was with her, and also from realizing that he’d worn that particular suit especially for her.
They had both been fresh from a very intimate shower they’d taken after a workout in his home gym. It had been last Sunday, the day he’d had to fly out on his trip, and he’d invited her to help him pack. Tessa had happily agreed, liking the idea of doing things for him, and also enjoying the opportunity to familiarize herself a little with the contents of his extensive wardrobe.
At his instructions, she’d located the various drawers where his socks, underwear, and workout clothes were stored, and handed him several sets of each. He packed everything with the expertise of a longtime world traveler into his Bottega Veneta suitcase, along with a fully stocked toiletry case that he always kept ready to go.
“Suits next, darling, then shirts and ties. Which suits do you fancy the best?” he’d asked.
Tessa’s gaze had been drawn automatically to the elegant black pinstriped one. He didn’t wear that one very often, but she could easily imagine how handsome and sinfully sexy he would look in it.
“This one’s my favorite,” she had told him. “So maybe you shouldn’t take it with you.”
Ian had cocked his head to one side, regarding her curiously. “And why is that, love?”
She had stalked towards him then, her eyes glued to the wide expanse of his bare chest, the towel wrapped around his waist his only article of clothing. She’d been wearing a beautiful little robe he’d bought her, of champagne silk that ended at mid-thigh and felt decadent against her skin.
Tessa had run her fingers lightly up over his ripped biceps to the rock hard muscles of his broad shoulders. Her lips had begun to trace a path across his pecs. “Because I don’t want any other women to see how hot you look in it. Especially since I won’t be there with you,” she had murmured huskily.
Then, before he could stop her, she’d sunk to her knees and ripped away his towel, exposing his massively aroused penis. The curse he’d uttered as she’d taken him into her hands had been guttural, but he hadn’t offered up any resistance as she had stroked him persuasively.
“You’re getting awfully good at this,” he’d croaked, as one of her hands pumped his cock while the other reached back to give his swollen balls a light squeeze.
Tessa had given him an impish grin. “You know what they say – practice makes perfect. But I really think I need to keep practicing, don’t you?”
Ian’s breath had expelled in a long, drawn-out hiss as she’d taken him into her mouth. As she had continued to suck him eagerly, he’d fisted his hand in her wet hair, holding her head still as he thrust into her warm, willing mouth.
After he came minutes later, he’d hauled her up into his arms and whispered naughtily in her ear, “I think you’ve perfected that particular skill as well.”
And then he had proceeded to untie the belt of her silky robe, cupping her breasts, before dropping to the floor and returning the favor she’d just bestowed on him – using his considerable oral skills to bring her to a stunning orgasm.
Tessa squirmed a little in her desk chair as she remembered just how hard she’d come, and then realized her panties were getting soaked all over again at the recollection.
She was able to pull it together just enough to murmur a subdued “Good morning, Mr. Gregson” along with the others as he passed them by. Any disappointment she felt at knowing he couldn’t make any sort of direct eye contact with her, or single her out in any way in his greeting, was quickly dispelled a couple of minutes later when her new phone pinged, signaling an incoming text.