The Infamous Ellen James(62)

"Come for me, Ellie. I want to see that look on your face when your pussy comes all over my cock." Trent is breathing raggedly as he continues to bring me to climax.

I come fast and hard, and I am barely able to contain my need to yell out unfathomable things. My body is trembling and my breath is shaky, the intensity of my orgasm causing uncontrolled whimpers to leave my lips. Trent drives deeply a few more times before I feel him come inside of me. He presses his face into my neck and his moans are muffled by my hair. I hug him tightly as we both attempt to catch our breath. I can feel his heart pounding against my chest. My limbs are jelly, and I'm riding out the endorphin high his dick just gave me.

Trent leans back and kisses my forehead. "You never cease to amaze me, little spitfire."

"I just planned on surprising you with lunch, but when I got here, you just looked too fuckable. I couldn't resist." I smile at Trent and take in the way in looks right now. Messy hair, my red lipstick all over his face, he is sexily disheveled and downright irresistible.

"Good thing you're not on staff here. I could file sexual harassment charges against you," he teases with a big dimpled grin as I rub my smeared lipstick off of him.

"I'm pretty sure it's not sexual harassment when both parties participate willingly." I pull his face to mine and playfully nibble on his lip.

"I welcome Ellie's stealthy attack on my cock with open arms. Any day of the week."

I giggle into his mouth and kiss him softly, letting my lips linger on his for a long pause. We're still wrapped up in each other's arms, my legs still around his waist, and I'm enjoying every moment of our sweet embrace.

"So, lunch? I brought sandwiches from my favorite Charlotte deli."

"Let me get this straight. You come to my office, surprise me with a blow job and incredible sex, and now you're going to feed me? You're perfect." Trent places sloppy kisses all over my face, which leaves me laughing at how adorable he can be sometimes.

I glance to the left of me and find the picture Beverly mentioned. I grab the frame and take a closer look while Trent nuzzles my neck. The picture is actually from my apartment. It's a ridiculous beach photo that Amy took last year when we vacationed in the Bahamas. I'm standing near the ocean in my red bikini with my sarong tied loosely on my hips and my hands are on top of my head, holding my floppy straw hat in place. I'm visibly laughing in the picture probably from something sarcastic Amy said.

"Hey, when did you take this picture from my apartment?" I'm definitely flattered at the idea of him having a permanent reminder of me on his office desk.

"The night your sister cock-blocked me. You look so damn perfect in that picture and I couldn't resist. Forgive me?" He gives a small pout and his version of puppy-dog eyes.

How could I ever be pissed at him with that look on his face?

I place the picture back on his desk and give his lips a soft peck. "All right, charmer. You're forgiven. Now let's eat our no-longer-hot Reuben sandwiches from Mabie's!"

After we disentangled ourselves from each other and enjoyed the lunch I hand delivered, I make a few mental notes.

Trent loves Reubens from Mabie's Cafe.

Trent loves blow jobs. Better yet, I love blowing Trent…a lot.

Office sex with Trent is even better in reality.

I must have office sex with Trent again.





Chapter Twenty-Five



“A true best friend will watch you masturbate without criticism.”



Ugh.

I'm uncomfortably horny and finding myself getting aroused at weird places, like the grocery store or gas station…or work. I think it's from all of the crazy, hot sex I've been getting from Trent over the past month and a half. That and I think someone might have spiked my birth control pills with ecstasy.

I'm standing in my kitchen, contemplating whether or not I could orgasm from rubbing myself up against the fridge.

I think I could climax right next to the Christmas cards that are hanging by the flip-flop magnets.

I'm ignoring the fact that Trent only has a month and a half before he's no longer needed to run Dr. Grey's practice and just focusing my energy on how I'm going to get my rocks off. Trent has been working nonstop the past few days, and I'm badly in need of some good, hard thrusting.

The superhero cock thrusting.

I'm one vagina clench away from finger-banging myself in the living room. I head into my bedroom and shut the door, throwing myself down on my bed, my face coming in contact with the pillow Trent sleeps on whenever he stays over. I'm sniffing myself into a pathetic one-woman show of foreplay.

Mmmmmm. His cologne. His vagina-arousing cologne.

Trent promised that he was going to head straight to my apartment after his last case in the OR, but he has been delayed due to an unexpected emergency surgery. So here I sit, jonesin' for an orgasm. My snatch is twitchy and aching and clenching involuntary at infomercials for P90X. Shit, I can't hold out any longer. I'm going to have to take things into my own hands…