Unwrapping Holly - A Holiday Reverse Harem Romance, page 8
I had to ask. I had to be sure.
Holly chewed her lower lip. She nodded without looking away, the answer punctuated by a slight tug on my manhood.
God, yes.
I took another half step, and her thighs opened wider. My hand found the thin strip of fabric that served as her panties. I stretched it to one side, marveling at how wet it was…
Then she pulled me inside her, and my whole world was warmth and fire.
Eighteen
HOLLY
I stared open-mouthed as Lincoln slid into me, filling me with his thickness. It felt absolutely enormous, and not just in the physical way either, but in the mental and emotional sense too.
Oh my God, Holly…
Visually, I was lost in a haze. The man fucking me now was absolutely beautiful. Tall, dark and handsome, he was also successful beyond my wildest expectations. His strong, masculine face felt perfect in my hands, and his piercing brown eyes made kissing him an absolute dream.
And his body…
Lincoln’s shoulders were impossibly broad, his arms firm and sinewed beneath my gripping hands. As hard as he worked on his business, I could tell he took time for himself too. And wherever he worked out, or whoever was training him, they deserved some sort of medal or award.
“MmmmMMmmmMMMmmm…”
The moans leaving my throat were low and gravelly, blending together like a purr of satisfaction. Down below, my lover’s cock was thick and hard. I could feel it throbbing wildly inside me, even as he pumped it in and out of my body.
I leaned back on my elbows to watch him work me, and in the process bumped into his mouse. Lincoln smirked at me before sweeping everything on his desk back with one big arm, clearing the way to fuck me properly and without any further collisions.
“You feel… so fucking good…”
I nodded my acknowledgment, still whimpering. Still reeling from the giddy sensation of taking him so deep and long. My new lover’s thrusts were slow and controlled, as if he were measuring the success of each one. He seemed almost surprised when I grabbed him by the back of his neck and pulled him to me again, kissing him hard while keeping buried inside me.
Jesus, Holly. Are you actually doing this?
I was. I was doing it, I was enjoying it, and I wasn’t the least bit ashamed. In my heart, as well as within my fantasies, I’d always dreamed of enjoying him. And I knew by the way Lincoln treated his family he’d be a sweet, thoughtful, and wholly unselfish lover.
Or at least, so I’d hoped.
Maybe, the little voice in my head admitted reluctantly. But should you really be fucking someone you work for?
Technically, I worked for myself. Lincoln Wallace was only a client, and one of many. My biggest and most profitable client, sure. But still just a client.
That was the story I was going with, anyway.
“Oh fuck, Holly…”
A little devil on my shoulder laughed. I’d been hearing a lot of that phrase recently.
This isn’t you. This isn’t—
One last time I shoved away the voice of reason, or guilt, or whatever the hell it was. I wanted to enjoy this. Lincoln was an associate, a friend, a client. Now he was a fantastic date, and a lover as well. He’d asked me out before any of the others. I was doing nothing wrong.
“Ohhhh…”
On the contrary, judging by the lost look in his eyes? I was doing everything right.
We were screwing harder now, my body bouncing in rhythm with his long, deep thrusts. The desk itself didn’t budge a single inch — a testament to its construction. It was heavy and well-built. Expensive.
Kind of like Lincoln, I laughed inwardly.
My lover lifted my legs over his shoulders to take me deeper. His hands went to my breasts and pulled down the top of my bra. Then he began rubbing my nipples in slow, arousing circles that made my eyes roll.
Mmmmmmmm…
I could feel the familiar ache rising up inside me. My body began making greedy adjustments, independent of my brain. I found myself rocking back against him on the longer thrusts, screwing my pussy hard against his pelvis. My hands began pulling at his arms, urging him into me.
“I need to see it,” Lincoln said, his breathing growing rapid.
“See what?”
“Your ass.”
His hands went to my waist, and suddenly I was sliding back to my feet. Lincoln spun me around and bent me over his desk, so quickly and commandingly I felt myself gush a little. Then he was lifting my skirt… and sinking back into me from behind.
“FUCK.”
It was more a grunt than a word, but I loved it. I also loved the feel of his hand on my back, pressing me downward, into his desk.
“That better?” I chuckled huskily.
Lincoln was already busy fucking me. His strong hands roamed the curve of my ass, stopping now and then to cup my cheeks and squeeze them in his warm palms.
“Much,” he groaned.
I laid my face down on the smooth wooden surface, all cool against my cheek. As my body bounced, my mind wandered. I was being bent over a handsome CEO’s desk, screwed deeply from behind. Pumped hard in the leather-scented shadows of some high-rise office, with only the spectral glow of LED lights and computer screens to illuminate our act.
It was dirty. Filthy, even. That this was our first date only made the whole thing even more taboo, but also, somehow more special.
Lincoln’s fingers were digging into my ass now, curling downward with his rising arousal. He was close, but I was already closer. I took one of the hands I was using to brace myself and slid it between my legs, only to find his fingers already there.
“Ohhhh…”
His hand closed over mine, dwarfing it, applying pressure against my favorite three fingers. I shifted them downward, showing him where to go. Soon we were pushing and pulling together, the delicious friction against my swollen clit triggering a violent, screaming orgasm… all while he continued shoving his cock in and out of me, doggie-style.
In the end I returned to earth with my knees buckled, my body collapsed forward across the surface his desk, all spent and sated. I was a rag doll now. His own personal plaything. It turned me on to think of Lincoln using my body any way he wanted to, as long as it got him off…
He came in a rush of heat, pulling himself from my body and showering me with his hot sperm. I felt it splash warmly across my naked back: long, thick, ropes of sticky, runny seed.
Lincoln cried out during his own orgasm, his teeth clenched so tightly I thought his jaw would shatter like glass. When he was finished he wiped himself clean against my ass, smearing his come all around. I could tell the whole thing was visual for him. He wanted to see everything as much as experience it.
“That… that was…”
“Really fucking hot?” I suggested.
He nodded, only now he looked slightly embarrassed. “Yes.”
Still bent over his desk, resting on my elbows, I laughed. “A little help please?”
“Oh… sorry.”
It was cute how quickly he moved, rushing to a nearby set of drawers and emerging with a soft white T-shirt. My lover cleaned me dutifully then discarded the shirt in what looked to be a nearby hamper with a hidden lid.
“I sleep here a lot,” he said by way of explanation. He nodding toward a comfortable-looking leather couch. “Too much to do, not enough hours to do it — that sort of thing.”
My eyes were fully adjusted to the darkness now. I glanced around.
“You had a couch… and you fucked me on your desk?”
It took a second or two before he realized I was teasing. When he did, he smiled smugly.
“The desk was more memorable anyway,” I winked. “Next time though…”
I let the words trail off suggestively, without finishing the sentence. Here I was, having had sex with the man on our first date… and I was already inviting myself back to screw on his couch.
Who in the hell are you?
Shit, at this point I wasn’t even sure anymore.
Lincoln handed me my sweater and looked away chivalrously. It was adorable, the way he gave me time to readjust myself and smooth down my skirt.
“Next time — if you’re still interested — I’ll show you my bed,” he said.
I considered mouthing the words ‘still interested’, but I didn’t want to scare him. As it was, I was already scaring myself. Then I looked down.
“Oh shit.”
Quickly I began scooping up the reports and placing them back in the folder. “I’m so sorry,” I told him. “I have no idea what order they—”
“Me neither,” he laughed. “Just leave it for now. I’ll have my assistant arrange them tomorrow.”
Tomorrow. Monday.
Ugh.
“You sure? I could probably figure it out. In fact, if you ever needed any help looking at this stuff…”
Lincoln raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Sure.”
“Because I might take you up on that,” he said. “I was going to do it myself because I… well, I kinda need someone impartial.”
I knew what that meant. His expression confirmed it.
“You having trouble with someone here?”
“Sort of.”
“The books not adding up, or—”
“Another time,” he said with a sigh. “Right now? It’s getting late, and I should probably get you home.”
“Home…” I repeated blankly. I grinned at him. “Before I turn into a pumpkin?”
Lincoln scooped me back into his arms and kissed me.
“You’re turning into something, that’s for sure.”
Nineteen
HOLLY
It was an interesting Monday. Possibly the most interesting one in Holly history.
I’d returned home the night before walking on air, dancing happily through my little apartment after a jubilant cab ride. My date with Lincoln had been the stuff of legends. He’d wined me, dined me, and all but sixty-nined me, before paying and tipping the taxi driver to get me home safe.
Once there, I charged my phone enough to turn it back on and check my text messages… and that’s where things got complicated.
The first one was from Brody. Attached was the selfie he’d taken of the two of us, cheek to cheek, looking absolutely amazing together. And the message:
Princess —
My Grandmother wants to know where
I ‘found such a beautiful young woman’.
I told her you landed in my lap. :)
Sweet, cute, adorable. Sexy, even. We’d had an amazing time together on Friday, even if by now our date seemed so very far away.
I’d scrolled through three other messages from Jocelyn, and almost even answered one. She’d have to wait, though. The second I texted her back my phone would ring, and I’d be required to answer. Girl code.
The next message was from Donovan, sent the morning after our date:
Well… it’s official: Your (ex)boyfriend
is biggest idiot in the universe!
See you Monday, sexy. And don’t think
for a second I’m going easy on you.
My body went flush with heat. God… I’d loved our time together! Especially the sex. Donovan’s ridiculously-chiseled physique had gone way beyond fulfilling the simple fantasy of screwing my sexy personal trainer. Yet instead of feeling satisfied with that little notch in my bedpost, the memory of him sawing away between my legs only made me want more.
And Lincoln…
Lincoln had apparently texted me before I even arrived home. With any other guy that might’ve seemed a bit stalkerish. But with him it was the sweetest, most gentlemanly of gestures:
Just so you know, it took me fifteen
minutes to put my desk back together
again! (It was well worth it though)
Couch or bed next time for sure.
Be ready…
Each of the messages had made me smile in equal but different ways. Confidence level soaring, I’d showered and slipped quickly into bed… still reeling from the most eventful weekend in my life — sexual or otherwise.
Monday morning found me sleepy, happy, and sore. It was a strange and delirious combo, but one that delivered me over the two bus routes and five extra blocks to arrive at my office.
Once there I took the garage entrance, not caring who I’d run into. My brain argued that it was the shortest possible route, overruling my heart so I could arrive at my desk just that much sooner.
I was still waiting for the elevators when my car drove by.
At first, I didn’t recognize it. At least not without me in it. But then I did a double-take, just in time to see the long blonde ponytail streaming out from behind the silhouette of the driver’s head.
What the fuck?
My car — my beloved little car! — raced up the ramp and disappeared into the next level. The elevator doors opened and closed without me taking a single step forward, that’s how miffed I was to see my own vehicle speed past.
That bastard!
I stood there shaking with rage, still clenching my yellow Metro card. Then the doors opened again, and this time I punched the eighteenth floor.
Up until now I’d been riding high — filled with a giddy, welcome energy that was sailing me through the day. Right now however, my mood had been spoiled.
Malcolm…
I’d been avoiding him for too long. Making things too easy for him. But not now. Not after—
“Oh! Hey…”
He was staring me in the face, five steps after the elevator doors opened. The expression he wore was slack-jawed surprise.
“Holly…”
It wasn’t a good look, especially on him. Malcolm looked somehow smaller than I remembered him. Paler and more uncertain, too.
“Wh—What are you—”
“Where is she?”
His eye twitched — one of his more annoying tells. It happened whenever he was trying to think up a lie, or make up an excuse. Come to think of it, all of his excuses were cataclysmically lame.
“Malcolm, what the fuck?” I demanded. “My car just drove past me in the parking garage.”
He swallowed dryly. “So?”
“So I’ve been taking the bus, Malcolm! The bus and the subway! Sometimes even a cab or an Uber, when I’m running late.” I put one hand on my hip. “I’ve been huffing it all the way here on foot each morning, and my car is still on the fucking road?”
His eyes narrowed — another lame tell. He pulled this one whenever he was about to lecture me or correct me on something.
“Technically,” Malcolm said matter-of-factly, “it’s not your car. It’s a lea—”
“I know what it is!” I yelled… and then suddenly stopped. No less than ten people were staring back at us now. I knew most of them just from hanging out on Malcolm’s floor. Back when we were dating, I’d come here a lot.
“What?” I sneered at Glenn. “You need something?”
Glenn shook his head silently, all at once looking very uncomfortable as he sat back down in his cubicle. I had to keep myself from bursting out laughing, it really was that comical.
“You know I would’ve paid out the lease,” I explained to Malcolm… and the rest of the eighteenth floor. “You know I would never have screwed you on that. But I at least thought you took it back to turn it in. In your own strange, militant little way, I figured it would bug the shit out of you until it was back at the dealership. But now—”
I was scanning the room, going from person to person, head to head. My gaze stopped dead on a young blonde girl in a very tight pony-tail.
All the color drained from her face.
“Her?” I swore in utter disbelief. “She has my car?”
“Like I said, it’s not your car,” said Malcolm. He reached out for me, as if to usher me back toward the elevators. “Come with me Holly, I can explain.”
“Fuck your explanation,” I seethed. My eyes stared daggers at the girl in the ponytail. The only thing keeping me from charging like a bull was the fact she looked utterly terrified. There was zero challenge in her eyes. Hell, she could barely keep from looking at the floor.
“You have any idea how cold it gets waiting for the bus, Malcolm?”
My voice broke. Suddenly there was a lump forming in my throat.
Uh oh.
“The wind stings, Malcolm. No matter how much you bundle up, one cold snap and you’re standing there shivering, your hands in your pockets and—”
I felt it coming on fast. The choking up with emotion, the crying, the eventual red eyes. I didn’t want any of it. Especially not now, not in front of these people.
“You know what? Fuck it.”
I pulled out my keychain and slid the little Volkswagen fob off it — the one Malcolm had given me on my birthday, along with the lease. It shined cold and silver in my hand.
“Here…”
I tossed it through the air, thinking the blonde with the ponytail would catch it. Instead she ducked. It flashed brightly beneath the fluorescents, sailing past her head, clattering loudly on the desk behind her.
God, I looked like such an asshole.
Malcolm opened his mouth to say something else, but I turned away. I was back at the elevators, choking back tears. Pressing the down button frantically, as if the more I pushed it the faster the car would arrive.
My car. He gave away my fucking car!
The glowing button went double as my eyes glassed with tears.
To a perfect stranger!
I shuddered, feeling the icy stare of a hundred judgmental eyes against my back.
To some girl…
Somehow I held it together until the doors closed behind me.
Twenty
HOLLY
I spent the rest of the morning alternating between crying over my hatchback and telling myself I really didn’t care. But it wasn’t the loss of my beloved car that bothered me. It wasn’t even Malcolm.
