"Don't play with me, Steele." He growled, dangerously and Merry giggled.
"Well...." She said. "I prefer the name 'Steele' without that 'Missy' word backing it up."
The elevator dinged open. His office unfolded—floor-to-ceiling windows, sharp lines, cold colors, some flower vases and perfect order.
A perfect view of the bustling californian city.
It was beyond luxury and elegance.
She sat when he ordered her to.
"Damon," she said plainly, "we both know this is a sweet opportunity. And we both know I'd do a fucking good job with everything you described yesterday. Don't drag this. Let me fucking bang you on the table. I've got a handful of things to deal with."
"Don't swear around here. This is...."
"Ah. Soon, Damon. I won't be the only swearing on the table."
He avoided her eyes.
She stood, walked around the desk, and stopped right in front of him.
His jaw tightened.
"We're wasting time," she murmured.
She lifted her leg and pressed her heel right at the crease between his torso and thighs one tiny inch from the swelling penis beneath his suit pants.
He flinched, shocked she'd dare.
"What are you doing, Merry?"
"Showing you what you've been missing for months."
He tried to stay composed. He failed.
Her foot nudged his penis only lightly and his hip jerked. Their eyes locked. She smiled.
Then she pushed his chair back and slid onto his lap.
Damon grabbed her waist instantly—reflex, instinct, maybe memory.
She guided his hands beneath her rolled-up gown.
Let him feel skin.
Heat and wetness.
He was silent. His jaw tight. His eyes dark. His hip stiff.
She cupped the back of his head, massaging slowly. "Relax."
His voice rasped, "Remember, Steele. Just sex."
"Of course."
She brushed her spread open pussy against his rock hard penis. He shuddered.
His hands gripped her harder.
The tension passed away.
His grip on her waist tightened and she raised his face so their eyes could meet again.
Nostalgia hit her for a second.
The memory of him watching her when he had his first orgasm.
She'd been so shocked to realize he was a virgin.
The school's hot newbie, yes. But not an inexperienced virgin.
Their mouths met. Hot, hungry and familiar.
Her breasts spilled free the moment he tugged the string of her gown. She ripped open his shirt, buttons falling. His chest was warm, tense and heaving.
He pushed his fingers between her thighs—deep, sure, cruelly slow.
Merry gasped loud, her voice breaking.
"Oh, Damon… put it deep in me till I can't breathe."
His mouth closed around her nipple—one soft, wet suckle, then another—and she almost lost her mind.
He slid two fingers inside her and crooked them expertly. Merry gasped as a delicious sensation hit her stomach.
"Remember when you told me to hit the button?" he growled.
She was shaking. "Yes… Damon. Fuck me right there."
He pulled away suddenly.
Before she could protest, he lifted her easily and lay her on his glass desk.
Her legs fell apart in invitation.
"Raise your hips," he ordered.
She did.
He tore her thong off and lowered his mouth to her in slow, deliberate torture.
His tongue dragged over her reddened, stuffed clit.
Once.
Twice.
She cried out. Loud. Shameless.
Her legs trembled on his shoulders and she tried to reach for his head. He pinned her wrists down, held her open, devoured her deeply—
Pushing a slippery, wet tongue against her sweetened nub again and again.
Merry was beginning to cry out.
And then he stopped....
"Failed." he said.
It took her a long moment to breathe again.
She slid off the desk and faced him, breasts bare, flushed, defiant.
"No, Damon. You're lying."
She stroked the rigid line in his pants. "You're hard. And hungry. And you know I'm not done."
He didn't answer.
His restraint snapped.
He grabbed her by the neck and kissed her hard, walking her backward until she hit the desk again. She spread her legs instantly.
"Raise your buttocks."
She did.
He whipped her gown off and tumbled her over.
His cloth hit the floor.
His cock—thick, flushed and heavy—made her knees weaken.
She remembered him.
All of him.
Surprising herself also, she held him back and sat up.
He got the message.
"Billionaires don't get STIs, Steele."
She giggled and reached for her purse.
"Allow me save the day."
She whipped out the pack of Durex condoms and in no time, Damon was ready.
Then he pushed into her.
Merry whimpered for a short moment.
He didn't let her calm down.
He drove into her hard, ruthless, owning every inch of her body. Her slick cunt clung to him, squeezing, biting him till he moaned, dripping wetness onto the polished table.
"Damon! Ohhh, Damon. Oh my goodneeess.... Oh please."
That was all she could chant again and again as he continued to smack her dangerous, good spot with his hard manhood.
Damon was ruthless. His hand around her neck unmoving. He was ready for her.
"You always said 'hit the spot', Merry."
"Yes, yes, yes...." She squeaked out the words, her back arching. "Right there, right there, right there. Oh pleassse. Owww. Damon...."
"Look at me."
She managed to look up, trembling.
"You'll kneel."
He pulled out and led her to the sofa. She was ready to go on all fours, but he turned her to face him instead.
He kissed her again.
Slow this time, dizzyingly slow, pulling her lip then dragging his mouth down her throat, biting lightly until she whimpered at the helpless enjoyment.
His hands slid over her breasts, then paused… teasing her until she shook with need.
And then he suckled.
Merry's fingers lost their way in his hair. Her hip continued to buck, eager for his inflictions till he stopped and grabbed her hair lightly.
"Turn around."
She obeyed, went on all fours and he entered her.
"Ohhh...."
Merry's toes curled and her head pressed into the soft sofa.
She lost her voice for a moment because the feelings she was getting was too sweet, it'd taken control of her body.
Her back was the only way to find succor as it wriggled helplessly.
"You enjoy how I hit the spot, now? In this aching cunt?"
"Yes!" She breathed. "Fuck me, Damon. Yes, please. Deeper. Oh, ple-ease."
She managed to hear him breath sharply till he smacked her wiggling buttocks once.
Twice.
The pain registered and she spurted out juice, her vagina clamping about his penis continuously.
And he went faster.
Merry couldn't take it anymore and she grabbed his hands, suddenly panicked by a sharp uncontrollable feeling that slipped into her stomach.
So sharp and strong it seemed to want to fly out of her mouth.
"Ooh, ooh.... I'm...." She tried to register words in her brain but she lost it fast.
The world she could see was white.
She could only feel the enjoyment oozing from her vagina.
"I'm comingggg. Damon!"
He fucked her madly.
Deeper and harder and harder and faster. Hitting her pleasure button on and on.
Even when she quivered and stiffened and arched her back and splashed her juices and growled.
Like he was getting revenge for all the hurt she'd left him in the past.
She frantically began to push his hands off when she realized another round of maddening orgasm was taking her but she couldn't move away.
Damon felt his own orgasm build but all he could think of was the limp, wriggling body of the woman he hated, under him, squealing.
His orgasm took him unawares and he let go and slammed his fat, red cock into her contracting pussy.
He threw his head back, gritted his teeth, let the sensation on his cap escalate and let it all go.
Damon shivered and gripped Merry's hip for dear life till he was able to stand alone.
He stepped back and she got to her feet, shakily.
Their eyes met. Cold. Dishevelled and lustful.
Merry ran a hand through her hair and bit her lip.
She grabbed her gown and slipped into it.
Then, she sat again, smirking back into his watchful blue eyes.
"Give me the fucking contract papers, Damon Blackwell."