I pull away and wipe the back of my shaking hand over my mouth. “Let’s go,” I order, jerking my head to the elevator bank. Her unsteady gait makes me feel marginally better. She’s just as shook about this whole thing as I am.

The elevator is another test. We’re alone, and the temptation to take her to the floor is strong, but this is our first time and while I don’t have a bed of roses, fucking her in an elevator is not the memory I want to make.

By the time we get to the penthouse, my dick is so engorged with blood that I can barely walk. “Strip,” I command. My voice is dark and harsh, but it doesn’t scare her. I can see in the way her cheeks flush and her chest heaves that she’s as turned on as I am.

Our clothes go flying, and soon I am on her, skin against skin. The ruddy head of my cock presses up against her virgin entrance. I lean down and bite her nipple. She yelps and arches into my embrace. My cock slips inside her tiny, untouched opening. A gasp escapes her breath. She’s not ready yet, but I’ll make her so. I abandon her tits and move lower until my face is between her legs. I kiss her sex.

“Look at this pretty pussy. It’s hungry, isn’t it?” I give her a good lick from clit to asshole, letting the redolent scent of her arousal fill my lungs. One of these days, I’m taking some private photos of her. I want to memorialize her touching herself, the tips of her fingers inside of her hot cunt, her fingers toying with her nipples. I want a photo of my cock piercing this small pussy, her lips stretched wide around my thick shaft, her juice dripping like jewels on my cock.

I tongue her deep, scooping her nectar onto my tongue and swallowing every drop. She scratches my shoulders and sends cries of ecstasy into the air. Her fingers tug at my ears, bite into my scalp.

“More,” she moans, “give me more.”

I press her thighs and open her wider. She screams when she comes, a piercing, wailing demand for more.

“This is mine,” I growl. “This pussy is mine now.”

She nods. “Yes, yes. Now put your—” she gestures toward my cock—“inside of me before I die.”

I can’t have that. I scissor her cunt open with one hand and palm my shaft with the other. My cockhead is met with soft resistance as her tight channel clenches against the invasion of my thick, long member. I work myself in as she gasps and wriggles and cries. Each sound only ratchets up my excitement. Desire and need thrum through my bloodstream. I bite down on my tongue to keep from ramming forward, splitting her in two like I want to.

“Come on, baby, open up.” It’s half an order, half a plea.

“You’re too big,” she says.

As if that comment is going to make me shrink. “You’ll take me. I know you will.” I work her little clit with my free hand and take her tit in my mouth. I suck and nip at one nub and then the other until she’s writhing underneath me, and the size of my cock isn’t a focus anymore. Instead it’s how good I can make her feel. I inch my way inside, letting her adjust to each new intrusion.

Her pussy clenches and pulses around me, and the urge to come beats down relentlessly. I want to fill her up until my cum drips down her thighs, until she’s drenched with me. Pleasure slices through me as I spear her. The slap of our bodies, her gasps, my grunts form a sexual soundtrack matching the rhythm of our movements.

“Come for me, baby. Let me feel you shake and smother my cock.”

“Oh, Jay, yes. Fuck me hard.”

Her pussy tightens, and her thighs contract as the orgasm seizes her. Dove throws her head back, her delicate neck thrown in sharp relief. I capture her in my mind’s eye. Her glassy eyes. Her bowed back. Her fingers digging into the sheets. Her face full of ecstasy.

I surge forward, allowing my cum to pour out of me in long, hot streams, splashing against her cervix and triggering another orgasm for her. She lets out a long, keening cry. The words “I love you” form on my tongue. I know she’s not ready for those, so I whisper them along the damp column of her neck, her wet lips, her shiny cheek. I love you, Dove, my baby bird. Fly with me now.

Eighteen

Dove

It’s been hours since Jay stopped by for a quick lunch that we enjoyed in his car. My lips still tingle from our makeout session. Is it possible to fall in love within a matter of weeks? I barely touched my lunch. All I wanted to do was touch him. He’d found a private place for us to park and I got what I’d really been hungry for. It’s as if I can’t get enough of that man.

He tried to tell me no, that we shouldn't, but once his mouth was wrapped around mine there was no going back. I knew he wouldn’t be able to resist me for long. He never can. I suck in a breath, not wanting to get turned on at work.

I really do need to start looking for another job. I hate it here, and I know it’s more than me just hating it because I know I have to be here and not with Jay. He’s made me look at the world a little differently. Before I didn’t have the time to stop and see all of the beauty around me. It was always about the grind and trying to get by. He makes me feel as if I could be and have so much more.

I don’t fit in here. I never did. All the girls turn their noses up at me, and the men stare a little too long. I bite my lip, wondering what Jay would think about us living together full-time. I’m not sure how much longer we have at the place we've been staying. It’s going to suck when it’s time to go.

I’m just not sure what will happen once our stay there is finished. Will I go back to my crappy place and he goes back to his? We share a room at the moment. It would feel wrong to not sleep in bed with him every night. My heart aches at the thought. I’m lying to myself when I say that I may be in love with Jay. I know without a doubt that I am. I’m just too scared to admit it out loud. What if he doesn’t feel the same? What if I said it and it pushed him away?

The thought of him not being in my life scares the crap out of me. My own mom was always chasing love. One man after another. I am beginning to understand her a little more now. Being in love is the most amazing feeling in the world, one that can never be explained and makes you do things that you wouldn’t normally do. I get it now. She wanted that feeling. She was always chasing it.

Sadly for her, she always picked the wrong men. It was great at first until they left. She would always brush it off, saying that the only love she needed was mine. Yet I know that she must have been devastated. My heart would shatter if Jay walked away from me.

Maybe I’m naïve, but I can’t see him ever doing that. I saw some of the men my mom dated. They wanted a pretty girl to have on their arm. Jay doesn't care about those things. It doesn’t matter what I wear; each and every time he tells me I look breathtaking. Sometimes I wish I could see myself through his eyes.

I start to clean up my work area, getting ready to leave. I requested to get off early because I wanted to do something special for Jay. I’m not the best cook in the world, but I can make a mean meatloaf. It’s my mom's recipe and it’s easy enough. When we had lunch, he told me he had a few meetings, so I’m thinking I can beat him home. My plan is to surprise him with dinner and then let him have me for dessert.

I grab my bag, stepping out of the mail room. I collide with Thomas.