Wicked Lil' Brat(19)

When he presses his lips against mine, the whole world around me starts to fade away. Outside from his office, the trading floor is still going through its daily chaos; there are people talking and shouting, anxious traders walking back and forth as they split their attention between strong coffee and spreadsheets, but I’m oblivious to it all. Right now, I’m in a world of my own. One where Mason reigns supreme.

“You’re a wicked one,” he whispers, pulling back from our kiss and running his fingers through my hair. I reach for his mouth and bite at his lower lip, pulling it back as I place my hands on his waist.

“You have no idea,” I tell him, my fingers finding their way to his crotch. Flattening the palm of my hand there, a shiver goes up my spine as I feel his hard cock straining against his pants. I curl my fingers around his thick shape, remembering how it felt to have him inside of me, and I grow even wetter. Squeezing his cock, I look up at him, a lewd smile on my lips. Grinning back at me, he tangles his fingers in my hair and yanks; I gasp and, a heartbeat after that, he leans in and crushes his mouth against mine.

We kiss as if we are possessed, our tongues dancing around each other as a burning need takes over me. I don’t think I have ever wanted a man as much as I want Mason. Somehow, knowing that he’s going to be my stepfather, makes it even better. I never knew that doing the wrong thing could feel so right.

As desire buries its fangs in my mind, I lose all control. I tug on his shirt, untucking it, and then take my fingers to his shoulders. I pull his jacket down his arms and, before it has even hit the floor, I’m already unbuttoning his shirt, my fingers moving anxiously.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” he tells me, grabbing my wrists and forcing me to stop. Looking into his, I can almost see the flames of desire dancing there. This might be a dangerous game, yes, but Mason loves the way we’re playing it.

“Yes,” I whisper, trying to break free from his hold, “and you love it.” A grin lights his face up and, forcing me to turn around, he pushes me back and against the wall. I breathe out sharply as I feel my back against the wall and, at the same time, he pins my arms over my head.

“You have no idea how much I want to fuck you right now,” he continues, slowly leaning into me and laying soft kisses on my neck. Closing my eyes, I surrender to the way his wet lips make their way from my neck to my cleavage, my nipples getting so hard they almost hurt.

“Then do it,” I tell him, my heart racing faster and faster. I can’t believe that I’m asking him to fuck him here, in his office… I know that we fucked in a public bathroom, but this is different. Now there are consequences, and serious ones. The thing is, right now, I couldn’t care less.

As his hands go down the side of my body, my skin prickles in anticipation and I sigh heavily.

“Not until you beg me to, baby girl,” he whispers.

I whimper. He feels so good. I can feel his hands traveling down as every nerve fires. When he finally meets the hemline of my skirt, he slides his fingers underneath it and pushes it up to my waist. I pant, throwing my head back against the wall as his hands make their way toward my inner thighs. As he moves closer to my pussy, desire starts to boil in my mind, my insides clenching as primal desires take precedence over everything else.

I run my hands through his hair, disheveling it, and then pull harshly. At the same time, he presses his hand right between my thighs, and I can’t help but let out a subdued moan. I don’t think I have ever been this wet. It’s funny, really; I’ve had all kinds of men chasing after me, but it took an older one to make me feel like this. Of course, even though Mason is 37, he doesn’t look like it; in fact, he looks better than men ten years his junior.

“This,” he whispers, placing his mouth close to my ear as he starts to rub my pussy over my drenched thong, “is mine.” My insides clench at his words and I realize that he’s right; my pussy belongs to him and to no one else.

“Yours,” I pant, letting go of his hair and grabbing his wrist. I pull him into me, forcing him to press harder against my pussy. My insides are on fire, but I won’t stop until both my mind and body are turned into ashes.

I go back to his shirt and, with trembling fingers, I finish unbuttoning his shirt. When it’s done I press both my hands against his firm pectorals, feeling their hard shape under my fingertips, and then go straight to his abs. Sweet God, Mason looks better than men my age. He’s sin incarnate.

As I push the shirt down his arms, he lets go of my pussy and takes one step back. I look at him, my eyes roaming over the ropes of muscle in his torso, and then he’s on me again. His hands go straight to my breasts, his eager fingers squeezing them softly. With a growl, he grabs at my blouse and, tugging on it, he makes all the buttons pop out, baring my bra.