Her Alpha Lover: A Draken and Charli Boxed Set (5 page)

She forced herself to stand there patiently waiting while Draken tapped his foot on the floor and contemplated things.

Maybe he wasn't sure he really wanted to fuck her. At the notion, she grew even more frantic.

Hell. He couldn't change his mind.

"Pretty," he said again, at last. And reached inside his pocket and took out his phone.

And Charli watched disbelievingly as he made several calls, each one longer than the last. He never looked away from her pussy during his conversations.

This was awful. Awful. She must have been standing here like this, displaying herself lewdly, for twenty minutes. She shifted, aware of her arousal climbing to a fever pitch. Pretty soon she was thrusting her hips forward in tiny little twitches she couldn't control and dancing her feet on the tabletop, like a restless filly.

From his small smile as he peered up at her, he noticed everything. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine what he must be seeing.

Her neatly trimmed mound with its brown sprinkling of curls.

Her pink inner lips swollen and glistening.

Her clitoris, chubby and throbbing.

Everything was exposed to him. All. Of. It.

He knew she needed fucking.

"Oh, God," she muttered aloud. Her knees quivered. She didn't know how much longer she could hold herself like this, stand here like this.

"Sure, talk to you later, Jennifer," he said at last into the phone and set it down. "Charli, you're doing terrific. I didn't think you could hold out this long. Soon you'll be a pro."

"Bastard," she moaned.

Charli watched with longing as Draken's hand moved to his crotch and he blatantly palmed and stroked the long length of his cock through his slacks. He grinned up at her. "All right, I've told you what you can do for me. It's only fair to ask what I can do for you. What can I do for you, Charli?"

"Touch me," she begged. "Now, please, now."

He scooted forward, winked, and reached out to tickle her ankle. Even that teasing touch sent her arousal into the stratosphere. She moaned.

"On my clit," she bit out.

"So soon in our relationship?" he drawled. "I'm not sure I'm comfortable with that."

"
Please
."

"Well, fuck, Charli, you need to leverage more of your assets if you want to convince me. Why don't you show me your ass?"

She turned and immediately stumbled. He rose swiftly, grabbing her legs to steady her. "I didn't say you could stop holding your pussy open," he chided, letting her go but remaining standing behind her.

Keeping her back to him, she parted her pussy with her fingers. The air blowing on her clitoris made her ache; she wanted soothing pressure there badly. She felt fluids gush out of her and made harsh little noises in her throat.

"That's a hell of an ass," he said, cupping one cheek. "I regret not asking you to strut it in front of my staff. They'd have given you a standing ovation."

"Dra—Mr. Almatto."

"Yes, Charli?"

Sobbing the words was humiliating, but she had no choice. "Please. I can't take much more. It hurts so b-bad."

"Turn around and face me," he ordered.

She did. He hissed in a breath at the sight of her exposed pussy.

"Christ. That's beautiful." He reached out and, very gently, brushed the side of her clit with his finger. She jerked so wildly she almost fell off the table.

But when she was stable again, instead of touching her further, he handed her something. "Take this. Call your office. Give them a summary report on the meeting."

She looked at his headset blankly.

"Call them," he repeated slowly, with exaggerated emphasis, his eyes sparkling. "Re-port."

"P-pardon? I don't—"

"Make the call, Charli."

"But—but they've gone home already."

"Surely the receptionist is still there to take calls, or you have an answering service."

"Yes," she said reluctantly. Why was he doing this? Didn't he know how close to the edge she was? If she didn't get relief soon, she'd scream. "But—"

"No buts," he said. "Hold your pussy open so I can see that pretty clit while you talk on the headset. You'll be leaving a message. A detailed one. After that, you're going to call your friend, Rani. She's your best friend, right?"

Charli nodded dumbly.

"Call her and tell her about your meeting today. Be honest. Tell her everything. What I offered, what you did, how much money you made, what I asked you to do, how it felt, etcetera."

"Jesus. You can't be serious." Even imagining he was made her sweat.

He smiled innocently. "Weren't you going to dump the whole story on her later on? That's what chicks do, right? Share their sexual adventures?"

"I don't—"

"And then," he said silkily, "I want you to call each guy who was here today and thank him for attending the meeting. Tell him what a great time you had and that you look forward to future projects. That should just about finish your business for the day. And then—then, baby, you can have what you want."

"Draken—"

"Charli." His tone was warning. "Respect."

"Mr. Almatto, you—are you joking? You have to be joking."

But he wasn't. Teasing her, maybe, but not joking.

And Charli was so turned on she did everything he said.

And the more she did what he said, the more turned on she became, until she was cross-eyed.

It was terrible. And, in its own way, astounding. Freeing. Because she baked muffins, for heaven's sake. She didn't play perverted games with lethally seductive rich executives. Except for now. This one time.

First, Charli called the office. She stammered out a much-watered-down version of the meeting, dictating almost randomly while the call center rep took down the message for her boss. It would have gone all right, except as she talked, Draken Almatto blew warm air directly on her clit and probed at the entrance to her pussy with just the tip of one finger. He even nipped her clit with his teeth once and she had to stifle her shriek.

It was torture.

At last she said goodbye and he ended the call.

"Whats Rani's number?" he murmured, his breath tickling her pussy. Her thighs strained not to smash herself into his face. The pain of lust was terrible. She needed release.

Needed it.

"Please," she whispered.

"Nope, beautiful. Business first, then pleasure."

She didn't think she could get more turned on than she already was, but she was wrong.

Soon she was confessing to Rani. As Draken listened to her end of the conversation, he tongued her belly button. The slow licks into her navel made a straight path to her pussy. Finally, he took his finger and slowly penetrated her pussy.

"What was that?" Rani said then.

"Nothing," she managed, and yammered on. She altered the story, acting like the whole thing had ended after everyone left. She couldn't bear for Rani to know that the catch in her voice was because the wealthy, lecherous businessman in question was in the room with her at this moment, finally, finally penetrating her, even if it was with a finger.

Fucking
Christ
.

Yet Rani, sensing something was up, drilled her cheerfully with question after question until she'd gotten Charli to spill all the morbid details, including how Draken had made Charli show his staff her pussy-wet finger. At that, she was fascinated.

"You
liked
it? All those hot guys staring at you and knowing you were turned on by the whole thing...that's beyond perv, Charli. It's worthy of me. You're hopping over the minors and straight to the big leagues, girl!"

"Y-yeah, go figure," Charli said, and stifled an ecstatic groan as Draken pumped the finger in and out of her pussy.

Oh fucking God.

Finally Charli got her off the phone, promising to bring her delicious macaroni casserole to Rani's barbecue on Monday. Panting, she blindly drove her hips toward Draken.

Orgasm. Now. Need.

His finger pulled out of her pussy completely.

"Draken," she wailed. "
Don't stop!
"

"Tsk-tsk. Not yet, Ms. Fontina. Don't forget you have follow-up calls to make. You must ensure that my employees know how excited you are at the prospect of working with them."

"Please, Dra—Mr. Almatto.
Fuck
. I can't!"

"Sure, you can. Dialing..."

The next several minutes were pure. Hell.

To her dismay, only one of the calls went to voice mail. The others reached a live man. From the shaky cadence of her voice as she introduced herself, each man quickly guessed what was happening. One and all, each guy burst into laughter, but kept up the pretense along with her.

Yeah, they'd enjoyed the meeting, too, they said. Tremendously. One guy said she made some fascinating points.

Yeah, they liked her presentation. It was memorable. Unique.

Yeah, they could tell she enjoyed it. They'd never seen such enthusiasm.

"Draken's kind of a freak with women, Ms. Fontina," the man named Matthew said, a smile in his voice. "He's not in the habit of bringing it to the office, though. You seemed to be a trouper. Glad you had a good time."

"Y-yes. I did."

"He's actually a good guy, as a boss and as a friend. Hey, you're still there with him, aren't you, since you're on his phone?"

"Yes, he's here," she managed tightly.

"Maybe Draken will bring you along later for drinks."

"No, I don't think so. But I—I look forward to working with you in the future."

"So do I," he said dryly.

Another guy simply asked her at the end of their conversation, "What, is he cocking you now?"

Charli winced. "Of course not."

The man snorted. "Fuck knows you were hot, Ms. Fontina, and from the sound of your voice you're still frothing. Thinking you should seriously consider that change in career. A stripper that gets off on stripping...you could make some big bucks."

"I—don't know. It's not—uh—my comfort zone. Ah. Th—thanks for considering—for considering our business."

"No prob, sweetheart. Hope you get the deal you want."

The penultimate man thought it would be amusing to keep her on the phone for ages, asking inane question after inane question.

By now she was sweating and barely aware of what she said. It was mostly monosyllables, anyway. Draken kept plucking her clit, not vigorously enough to get her that close to orgasm - he said ingenuously that would embarrass his employees. But enough to keep her wild for it. Each time she said something even halfway businesslike and professional, he rewarded her with a finger up her pussy.

He never stopped touching her for a moment.

Finally, she gasped out her last "Goodbye, and thanks so much again," and Draken ended the call for her.

He stared up at her feral eyes. "Whoah. You're about to explode. No—no, Ms. Fontina, keep holding that pussy open. That pretty little clit doesn't get any contact unless I grant it. And this is too good to end so soon, baby. Don't you think?"

"Soon! Oh, God," she cried. "I'm going to fall."

"No, you're not. You're going to stand there and give me your best pitch yet, little charmer." His voice was low and rumbling. "This time you've got to convince me why it's in my best interests to let you have an orgasm."

Charli was frantic. She'd never expected him to withhold her orgasm this long. At his words, she almost attacked him.

You can leave. You can get yourself off any time you want, Miss Charli. Go home and get in that bed and give yourself orgasm after orgasm after orgasm...fuck rich millionaires and their sexual power trips.

"Pitch it to me, Charli. Show me you're hungry for it. Give me a reason to let the girl who raises money every month to find homes for abused pets have a nice little orgasm in her pussy." His voice was low and napped, like velvet.

She swallowed. Somehow she managed the words he wanted. They sounded ridiculous even to her ears. She listed reasons like
I need to come
and
You want to see me come
and
I deserve to come
before he asked her to get more specific and elaborate with her lures and promises.

I'll make it worth your while, Mr. Almatto.

For every orgasm you give me, I'll give you two. Promise, Mr. Almatto.

I'll do anything you want if you let me come, Mr. Almatto.

That last one burst out in desperation as he eased his face forward and—after she waited, and waited, and waited for it—licked the side of her clit.

Once.

That was the last straw. She promised him anything and began a stream of pleas for relief.

"You've made me an offer I can't refuse," he said roughly. "You have yourself a deal. Now I'm going to fuck you." He surrounded her clit with his lips and sucked on it hard, then released it loudly, shushing her reprovingly when she let out a little yell. "Come on, let's get you off, Ms. Fontina. The table, I mean."

He didn't step back as he lifted her down to the floor as easily as if she weighed nothing. She slid down his body, her naked skin abraded by the abalone buttons on his bespoke shirt and the thin wool of his trousers.

"You're getting my clothes wet," he murmured in her ear. "But you're in luck. I happen to know the stains come out."

"Fuck me," she said urgently, his humor going right over her head. "Fuck me, Mr. Almatto."

"Easy," he said, and unbuckled his belt and undid his fly with one hand, the other hoisting her back onto the table on her ass. His erection sprang out, huge and perfect, showing that the pretense of casualness he'd been adopting was just that—a pretense. Even so, he jerked away from her grasping hand. "Lie back, Ms. Fontina."

"Hurry," she gasped.

"Condom," he said concisely, and reached into his back pocket.

A minute later, he was driving his cock into her pussy.

"Drive" was not quite the word, though, to describe the way he shoved and squeezed inside her with a cock so huge and thick it felt like she could explode just from his size.
No way
, she thought.
It's not possible
. She muffled her own scream with the back of her wrist, flinging her head from side to side.