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Vanilla On Top(40)

By:C.J. Ellisson


Heather’s breath whooshes out as a half moan, half sob sound. Her tangled emotions finally come to the surface for me to see. “I…I need to think.”

“Don’t run from me.” She jerks in my arms. Perhaps I hit closer to home with my earlier observation than she’s willing to admit. “Do you want me, Heather?” I nudge my hips forward and backward, a slight teasing motion designed to enflame her higher.

“I do.”

I release her nipple and trail my hand down her waist. “You made my ass burn.”

She smiles against my lips, then kisses me. Tender and soft, deepening into something stronger, full of pent up desire. “You deserved it.”

I shrug. “Maybe.” My hand delves into the vee between her legs, seeking the heat I know lies beneath the fabric of her skirt. “But you enjoyed it, too, didn’t you?”

I rub my palm onto her mound, pressing up my fingers, forcing the material to mold against her heated core.

She gasps and her hips move forward, massaging her sensitive flesh more firmly onto my hand.

“You feel hot down here, Heather. I think you want me. I think you want me as much as I want you.”

“Damn you. Of course, I do.”

“Let me please you,” I whisper into her ear then I nibble an earlobe. “Let me ease your body from the stress you’re feeling.”

A low, choked sound of amusement spills from her. “Sure, and it’s not like you won’t enjoy it, too.”

“You can tell me no anytime you like.”

I leave her earlobe and skim down to her throat, planting kisses and nipping every inch. She gulps and I feel the movement of her swallowing against my lips. “You mean if I said no, you’d stop whatever you were doing?”

There is such hope and wistfulness in her tone that I wonder what she’s been through before me. Who has treated this incredible woman poorly? Who made her doubt herself and her sexuality? I squelch the burgeoning anger urging me to hunt him down and beat him to a pulp.

I take my hand from her mound and reach behind her back, searching for a zipper on her skirt. “Yes. I’d stop, whatever it was. I don’t want to hurt you.” My hands fumble, unable to find a zipper to take her skirt down. Two small hands rest on my chest and push me a step away. Passion burns bright in Heather’s eyes. She walks forward, grabs a chair and shoves it to the side, freeing a large space near the front corner of my desk.

She gathers the skirt in the back and lifts it to her waist, exposing her creamy thighs and turquoise thong panties. My eyes dart immediately to the black leather boots, with the shiny metal strip running all the way down the back, meeting the silver spiked heel resting on the rug. I trail my eyes slowly back up—the leather hugs the bottom of her spread thighs, and the strip of blue divides the creamy halves of her ass.

“You may not know me very well, Tony.” She peels aside her thong, revealing the wet slit of her plump sex. “But you do know what I need.” She bends over the desk and looks over her shoulder, meeting my hungry gaze, fire burning in her own dark depths. “I’m not running now, am I?”

I step between her thighs and run a hand lovingly over her right butt cheek. “Nice to see spanking me turned you on.”

Her eyes drop to the desk, but not before I catch the expression of longing on her face. “Everything about you turns me on.”

My rubbing hand moves closer to her wet core and she bucks, trying to angle her center onto my hand. “Even when I piss you off?”

“Don’t push your luck.” She smiles my way, a saucy look on her face. “Undo your pants.”

I dip my forefinger into her channel. A gush of liquid spills out, coating my hand. “Yes, ma’am.” I give her bottom a light smack. “But only because that’s what I want, too.” With my left hand, I work my pants over my thighs. The head of my erection glistens with pre-come and I draw my hips back, taking a deep breath, barely resisting the urge to drive deep inside. I remember protection and feel a stab of disappoint. “Damn.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t have a condom.” How could I be so stupid? Dare I hope she has one in her purse?

“It’s okay.” She hesitates, but the heat in her voice overrides any doubts she has. “I’m on the pill.”

A rush of animal joy zips through me at the thought of coming inside her. I haven’t gone without protection in a decade or more, unwilling to take the risk, not just of pregnancy but of disease, too. I take a deep breath and position my swollen flesh at her entrance. “Are you sure?” My heart hangs on a thread, hoping she won’t rip away what I hadn’t known I desired so badly.