Excerpt
“Not what I was expecting. You impress me,” he said to her, his voice low.
“I'm flattered. I get the feeling there isn't much you've seen that impresses you,” she said.
“Katya,” he whispered, and she shivered. He so rarely said her first name. “I've never seen anything like you.”
Words like that, and he didn't need to make any deals. He'd barely finished talking, and she was all over him. His assistant was somewhere in the building, Katya was positive the conference room door wasn't locked, and she didn't care at all. Not even one little bit.
She sat down in his lap with such force that his chair rolled backwards, threatening to tip over. She was able to kiss him once, but then his hands were in her hair, yanking her away.
“Ah, but this is supposed to be a punishment, remember? Who said you could kiss me?” he said, and she felt him nipping at the side of her neck.
“Please, I don't want to – AH!” she ended in a shriek when he bit so hard, she wondered if he broke skin.
“Dissension. Tsk tsk, Ms. Tocci. You're on a roll tonight. Get off me.”
She wasn't given a chance to comply. He pulled harder on her hair, and she was forced to follow his hand. She slid off his lap and managed to get her feet under her, still moving with him as he stood up.
Katya was dragged across the room and pressed up against the floor to ceiling window. She gulped at the feeling of cold glass on her hot skin, then moaned when she felt his lips on the back of her neck. She wasn't sure what had gotten into him – their last time together, he hadn't been so aggressive. Maybe she was seeing a new side to him. Or the real him.
Very pleased to meet you, Mr. Stone.
“Please,” she said again, pushing her hips away from the window and rubbing her ass against his crotch. “Please, I need you.”
“Hmmm, that's nice, but I don't think that's what you mean,” he whispered. As he kissed his way down her spine, his hand slowly slid out of her hair and crept over the back of her neck.
“Please, Wulf.”
“'Please, Wulf'. She begs so sweetly, yet still can't get what she wants.”
His free hand was at her hip, yanking and pulling at her underwear. Shoving them down, letting them fall to her ankles. Leaving her in only her bra.
“Please.”
She could feel his suit against her bare skin as he stood upright, and his hand slid around her neck, gently wrapping around her throat. She gasped as she was pulled back, her spine forced to arch as her head was drawn into his shoulder. She planted her palms against the window and started panting while his other hand moved across her stomach.
“Please what?”
“I want ...”
The hand on her throat squeezed tighter, the hand on her stomach moved lower, but neither pushed her over the edge she was so desperately seeking. She stood on the balls of her feet, almost crying from the tension running through her body.
“If you can't even say what you fucking want,” he growled, his breath hot against her face. “I don't know why I should bother giving it to you.”
“Please, I want you to fuck me,” she whispered. The chuckle she heard sounded more like a growl, and she moaned when she felt his tongue against her ear.
“What was that? I couldn't quite hear you,” he hissed.
“Just fuck me,” she hissed right back.
“Just fuck you? That's it? My, your demands are so very simple.”
Alright, Wulfric. You win.
“Please, Wulf,” she purred, placing one of her hands over his own and moving it down between her legs. “Fuck me right now. Right here. Against this window. Fuck me so hard, people down on the street will hear me screaming your name.”
She'd never spoken like that before, to anyone. She briefly wondered if it was too much. If she sounded ridiculous. But then he was slamming his dick into her, and she realized it wasn't too much at all.
Jesus, I should've been talking like this years ago.
“I thought that was going to take you all fucking night,” he groaned as he bucked his hips against her. Slow and gentle certainly wasn't on the menu that night – he just instantly started fucking her like it was his job. She couldn't even respond. Could barely breathe. He was pounding the air from her lungs, and the hand on her throat was ensuring she couldn't suck any of it back in.
“See what happens when you do as I ask? You get rewarded,” he panted, finally moving his hands. She gulped in air greedily and managed to nod.
“Yes. Yes, thank you. God, thank you so much,” she moaned. He gripped her hips and yanked them further away from the glass, forcing her to bend at almost a right angle. The new position enabled him to fuck her even harder, something she hadn't thought was possible. She shrieked with every thrust, her hands beating against the window.
“So polite. So sweet. Katya Tocci, best fucking dessert I've ever had.”
She shrieked again as she was whirled around. She thought she was going to fall over, the position she was in wasn't favorable when competing against gravity, but she didn't have to worry. Wulf always had a plan. She was slammed down against the conference table top. She pressed her cheek to the hard wood and let out a long groan when his hips started banging against her, over and over.
“The best. God, you're the best,” she was whispering. Babbling, unsure even of what exactly she was saying. She had her arms stretched out to the sides, gripping the edges of the table, but he roughly grabbed her right arm and jerked it back.
“Touch yourself,” he commanded, lifting her hips enough so she could work her hand between them and the table.
“Oh my god.”
One press of her fingertips, and she shot off like a starter pistol. Screamed as an orgasm rocked every single nerve ending. She went to pull her hand away so she could bathe in the sensations, but Wulf's hand flattened over her own, his fingers working above hers. She whimpered and cried out as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through her. Became too much for her. Overwhelmed her. Yet still, he wrung more out of her, his fingers pressing even harder. It wasn't until she was lifting her feet off the ground, her free hand pounding on the table top, begging him for mercy, that he let her go.
And immediately, she missed his touch.
Before she could beg him to start all over again, though, he had his own orgasm.
He came with a shout, dragging his nails down her back before grabbing onto her hips. Digging his fingers into her flesh. While he throbbed inside of her, bruises throbbed on the outside of her, and every nerve ending throbbed within her.
“Holy shit, Tocci,” he panted, and she felt him lean forward. Felt his forehead against her back.
“You ... you were ... that was incredible,” she whispered, still finding it hard to breathe.
“I know.”
“Jesus, it was like you were angry at me.”
“I was your little strip tease from earlier pissed me off. How dare you keep something so wonderfully inappropriate from me.”
She managed a laugh.
"Duly noted. Next time I learn a new trick, I'll share it with you immediately.”
NEIGHBORS
by STYLO FANTÔME
Things a good neighbor can do for you:
1. Give you a cup of sugar
2. Let you borrow his lawnmower
3. Water your plants while you're on vacation
4. Make your eyes roll back in your head with his tongue
Katya Tocci has never paid much attention to who lives next door - her career always kept her too busy. She's a good girl, working her way to becoming the most sought after cake designer in all of San Francisco.
But even a good girl's gotta cut loose once in a while, right? So one fake dating profile later, and she's ready to tarnish her squeaky clean image. Little does she know, her fun time is closer to home than she ever imagined.
Throw in a neighbor who wants to corrupt her, and another who just wants to own her, and her entire world is flipped upside down.
Who knew neighbors could be so helpful?
◆ ◆ ◆ ◆ ◆ ◆
~MEET STYLO FANTÔME~
Crazy woman from a remote location in Alaska (where the need for a creative mind is a necessity!), I have been writing since ... forever? Yeah, that sounds about right. I have been told that I remind people of Lucille Ball - I also see shades of Jennifer Saunders, and Denis Leary. So basically, I laugh a lot, I'm clumsy a lot, and I say the F-word A LOT.
I like dogs more than I like most people, and I don't trust anyone who doesn't drink. No, I do not live in an igloo, and no, the sun does not set for six months out of the year, there's your Alaska lesson for the day. I have mermaid hair - both a curse and a blessing - and most of the time I talk so fast, even I can't understand me.
Yeah. I think that about sums me up.
~CONNECT WITH STYLO~
by RACHEL VAN DYKEN
