Dirty Filthy Rich Men (Dirty Duet #1)

He was already undoing his pants. When he’d gotten both his belt and his zipper open, he dropped his hands to his sides. The crown of his cock peeked up at me above the band of his boxer briefs, much like it had the other night at my house. This time, however, I was eye level. This time, I was close enough to touch.

“Now this is where you make your choice,” Donovan said, his hands gripping the armrests of his chair. “If this is what you want—and by the way you’re biting your lip, I’d say this is exactly what you want—then you make the next move.”

Way to save himself when it came to consent. It was probably a wise move on his part. Not that I was going to sue him for workplace harassment, no matter how many times I brought it up. I happened to like it too much. I probably even encouraged it at times.

But there was a bigger question here now—was this really what I wanted? Did I really want there to be an “again”? What did it mean about me if I did?

Maybe I really couldn’t take care of myself. Maybe I really did need Weston or a safe guy to hide behind, someone who wouldn’t be asking me to get on my knees in the middle of a workday. Someone who didn’t get off on the idea of holding me down while he fucked me. Someone who didn’t think it was necessary to warn me that sex with him wasn’t always “easy”.

Except this was what I wanted. All of it. The dubious consent, the dominant overtones. I wanted it with every fiber of my being, and if I was a big enough girl to know that about myself then maybe I could be a big enough girl to accept it too.

Hesitantly—only because I was nervous, not because I was reluctant—I wrapped my hands around the band of his briefs. Donovan raised his hips, and I pulled his briefs down until his cock sprung out thick and heavy.

Damn, was he always this big?

He was longer than I’d realized. Rounder too. And it only made me want him more.

I just wasn’t sure where to start.

A drop of pre-cum glistened on his head as if signaling me, and I leaned forward and licked it off, slowly. Deliberately.

His cock stirred, but that didn’t mean anything. It was too gentle of a movement for Donovan, too soft, and I knew without him telling me that I needed to progress my game.

I sucked his tip, then past that, drawing the top half of his cock into my mouth. When I started to wrap my fingers around his base, he stopped me. “No hands—just your mouth.”

Okay. I could do that.

I rested my hands on his thighs instead, loving the way his muscles felt under my palms, and resumed the action with my mouth, bobbing up and down his shaft, hollowing my cheeks to make the suction tight. He tasted good—like clean and musk and Donovan, and as big as he was, he felt good. It made me horny, made me super aroused. Like the way he stretched my lips reminded my pussy how it felt to be invaded in the same way.

“Very nice,” Donovan said after I’d spent a few minutes sucking him off. “Good girl. I like that.” He brought both his hands to my head and wrapped them in my hair. “But now I’m going to take over.”

That was all the warning I got.

After that, Donovan was the one in control. With my head held in his grip, he pushed me down over his cock, slowly at first, forcing more of his length in than I’d previously taken.

“That’s it, that’s it,” he coaxed as his tip hit the back of my mouth. And still he pushed in farther. “Relax your throat, Sabrina.”

My eyes went wide. I couldn’t take any more. I was going to gag. I started to panic. I couldn’t breathe.

Yes, I could. Through my nose.

I inhaled, and my throat relaxed, and he slid in farther, deeper than I’d ever taken anyone into my mouth before.

“Jesus.” He held me there, with his cock down my throat, not moving.

After a few seconds, he let go, but immediately he pushed in deep again. “All the way. Good girl, good girl.” This time he pumped my head over him, raising and lowering me only an inch or two above his balls. “God, it feels so fucking good. Fucking your mouth like this.”

I didn’t know how I felt. Aroused. Confused. Panicked. His thrusts brushed by my gag reflex, and I could only take it so long before I was sure I’d puke, but I couldn’t do anything to tell him but claw along his legs and look up at him with watering eyes.

He read my cues and understood. He let me up to relax. Let me catch my breath. But as soon as I did, he urged me back into position and pushed me farther the next round. And the next.

It was intense. It was brutal. But I could feel his cock get thicker in my throat. I saw how wild he got when he pumped my mouth over him, and it only made me love it more. Made me want to please him more.

When he was close, he held my head still and instead drove his cock into my mouth, fucking my face with as much frenzy as he’d fucked my cunt.

“I could have anyone’s mouth on me,” he said, his breaths short. “Any woman I want. Money can buy the prettiest lips, the most famous mouths, the deepest throats. And still, for ten years, all I can think about is your mouth. It’s only yours I want. Why can’t I get over your goddamn lips?”

I clawed into him, hard. So hard I thought I might tear his expensive suit. But not because I couldn’t take the pounding, but because I wasn’t sure I could take what he was saying.

He let up, reading the signal the same way as usual, but this time he barely let me have a break before saying, “I’m going to come. Swallow it all, Sabrina.”

He jerked twice, grunting as he shot into my mouth. Warm liquid coated my throat, as his thighs quivered beneath me. It was so hot. So fucking hot to see him so savage. Whatever I had to do to see it again, I’d do it. I’d have given my soul away.

I might have said something about it too, except the second after I swallowed, Donovan pulled me up and kissed me forcefully. Our tongues tangled, our tastes mixed until I could no longer distinguish the taste of his mouth from the taste of his cum in my mouth.

When he pulled away, our eyes locked.

“This doesn’t help me figure out where things are between us,” I whispered.

“It doesn’t help me either.” He sounded off-balance. Which threw me off-balance—more than I had been—because when had I ever seen Donovan unsteady before?

But no wonder he was bewildered. What had just happened? What he’d just said—I was pretty sure he hadn’t meant any of it. He couldn’t. It was impossible.

Wasn’t it?

As though we’d simultaneously woken from a weird trance, I fell back on my ass at the same time he fell back in his chair. There was distance between us now. Not much, but enough to feel like I could think my own thoughts for half a second.

And the look on his face said he was now thinking his own thoughts. I could actually see him shutting down. See his expression tighten and his eyes become guarded.

“Don’t,” I said, putting a hand up in warning. “Whatever you’re about to say, don’t. You can ask for space without saying something terrible.”

His brow furrowed. “Is ‘I have to get back to work now’ considered terrible?”

“When you say it directly after an intimate act, yes.” I stood up and did my best to straighten my hair without a mirror. “So how about I just go.”