Dirty Heat (28 page)

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Authors: Cairo

BOOK: Dirty Heat
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I groan.

Slap!

Again. My ass quivers beneath his hand. The sting and burn causes my flesh to tingle.

“Yes, baby,” I crane my neck, looking back at him. “Ooh, yes. Slap that ass! Make it hurt, big daddy!”

Slap!

“Yeah, you like that shit, huh, bitch?”

Mercy.

“Ooh, yes!”

He yanks me by the back of my hair, ramming his dick in me.

“Uh! Ooh! Yes, motherfucker, yes! Do it again!”

Slap!

I bite down on my bottom lip and grunt as he gives me long, hard plunges that jostle my body. My breasts bounce as he pounds into me. I rock my hips for more of him.

“Ooh, yes, yes, yes…fuck me. Mmmm…Fuck meeee…”

Charles thrusts—“I'ma gut this sweet pussy out”—and slaps
my ass again. My pussy clenches his thickened shaft. His hips smack against my ass. His dick touches a part of me that hasn't been touched before as his fingers dig into my waist, then slip down to my hips, gripping as he rapidly pounds deeply into my body, stroking over that magical spot. I grow wetter around his dick. Suck him in. Each stroke flings me perilously closer to climax.

“Yeah, that's right, baby. Milk me. I feel you squeezing that dick.” He leans forward and growls in my ear, then nips my earlobe as he reaches under me and finds my aching clit, sticky and swollen. He pinches it. And growls some more.

My tongue lolls out of my mouth. My eyes roll up in my head. Fire shoots through my entire body.

“Ooh, get it, get it…yes, yes, yes…mmm…mmm…uh, uh, uh…”

It's all too much. The fucking. I squeeze my rolling eyes shut. I can feel all of the blood in my body filling my clit, swelling my cunt. The surge builds and builds and builds and comes from someplace deep as his dick fucks me at a perfect rhythm.

I am coming harder than I've ever come.

“Ohgod, yessss! Fuck. fuck. Fuck. Oooooh…”

“You like that? You feel that, this hard dick swelling up inside you…?” he says, between feverish thrusts.

“Yes, yes, yes,” I mewl, feeling every thick, pulsing inch of him. Dizzy with bliss, pleasure ignites through every part of my body as I reach one climax after another.

Over and over and over.

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod,” is all I chant, my body writhing beneath Charles.

I give him my pussy. Let it become his possession.

He fucks me with all his might—

And then…oooh, oooh…

Hot scorching cum fills the thin sheath between us.

Charles bucks his hips, continues stroking into me until his dick shrinks and finally slips out of me, leaving me vacant as he flops over onto the bed, collapsing beside him.

I fan myself. “Ohmygod, I need a cigarette. And I don't even smoke.” I stretch and moan, turning to him. “That was so damn good.”

He gives me a cocky grin, rolling over on his side and kissing me lightly on the lips. “Yeah, I did put it on you.”

I suck my teeth, punching him playfully in the arm. “Oh, please. What. Ever.”

“Yeah, okay. You know you can't get enough of this good dick.”

Smiling inside, I don't respond.

“No need to admit it,” he says smugly. “Your body told me all I need to know.”

Hot, sweaty, and still breathing heavy, he curls his arms around me and molds his body into mine, pulling me into him, hooking his leg over mines. Nothing else is said. He kisses the top of my head, then strokes through my damp hair until his breathing slows and we are both drifting off to sleep.

•  •  •

Two hours later, Charles and I stroll back into the building that houses the Strathmore, Strauss, Landers & Associates offices and ride the elevator up. I'm floating, and smiling on the inside. All I can think about is the delicious fucking that he delivered. And the sweet pounding of my heart as I climaxed. My pussy is still throbbing. Wanting more.

I cut my eye at him, imagining being bent over. Right here. Trapped. Him inside me. Fucking me deep.

He clears his throat, smirking. “You still need that cigarette?”

I roll my eyes. “Maybe. Or maybeeee,” I say, licking my lips teasingly. “I need something thick. And hard.”

We stare at each other with hungry eyes and knowing smiles for a long moment until he winks, then drags his gaze away, looking up at the camera.

Silence lapses between us as the elevator ascends. I shift my weight from one foot to the other, feeling my insides pulsing for more of him.

Charles straightens his tie, and sniffs. Then sniffs again.

“I can smell your wet pussy,” he whispers out of the side of his mouth as the doors open. I giggle like a schoolgirl with her first crush, poking my tongue out at him stepping out of the elevator and running right into…

“Craig!” My cheeks heat with shock. He's the last person I expected to run into.
Here
, no less! Craig rarely comes to my office. As a matter of fact, he hasn't been to my office in almost a year.

Despite the blood draining from my face, I force a smile and feign excitement. “Ohmygod! This is a surprise.” I fight to keep my voice from quavering. “W-what are you doing here?”

He kisses me on the cheek. “Surprised?” He smiles. “I thought I'd sneak out of work early and come take my wife out to lunch. But looks like I'm the one who got surprised when I got here and you were already gone.”

He eyes Charles, and suddenly the air around me thickens, and starts choking me. I feel myself getting lightheaded as I draw in a deep, burning breath.

“Craig,” I croak, stepping aside as someone steps into the elevator. I hear the doors close behind me. “You remember Charles, don't you? Charles, you remember Craig, right?”

“Hey, man,” Charles says, grinning and extending his hand. “Good seeing you.”

Craig grits his teeth, sizing him up, as the two exchange handshakes. “So you're the one who's been keeping her away from home.”

“And I appreciate you letting me borrow her. Believe, man. She's always in good hands.”

The innuendo hangs in the air like a thick blanket.

Ohmygod! What the hell is he doing?

Craig's eyes narrow suspiciously.

Shit, shit, shit!

God, please don't let this turn ugly.

It takes everything in me to keep from hitting the floor.

Craig assesses the situation looking from me to Charles, then back over at me. I can see the wheels in his head spinning.

I swallow hard. Out of the corner of my eye, I spy a few of the third-year associates as they look over in our direction. Great! Nosey-asses! The last thing I want is to be the center of gossip.

“I bet she is,” Craig says tersely. “Working all those late nights together…”

He allows his statement to linger between us.

“Well, I'd better get going. I have a conference call at three.” Charles looks from me to Craig. “Craig, my man, it was good seeing you again.”

He extends his hand again. Craig looks at it as if he's deciding whether or not to leave him hanging. My heart starts pounding.

He knows.

And then Craig shakes it. “Likewise.”

Charles sweeps his gaze to me, clearing his throat. “Markisha, I'll talk to you about that case later.”

I nod.

Craig waits until Charles saunters off and is well out of earshot before saying, “I waited for almost two hours for you. Where were you?”

“At a meeting at the prosecutors' office,” I lie.

He raises a brow. “Really? That's odd. Because when I called this
morning, your receptionist told me your schedule was clear until three.”

That messy bitch!

I keep my gaze trained on his. “It was. Until I got a call from the prosecutors' office.”

He eyes me warily. “What time did you leave?”

“Ohmygod, what is this?” I hiss, clenching my teeth. “An inquisition?”

His jaw tightens. “No. It's me trying to understand where my wife was for the last two-and-a-half hours.

He glances at his watch. “I got here at twelve. And you were already gone.” He glowers at me. “So where were you?”

He knows I'm lying.

“I told you. A meeting. Then we stopped for lunch.”

He snorts. “I just bet you did. What did you
eat?”

Dick.

I glance around the lobby. “Can we not do this here? Please. Let's go into my office.”

His nostrils flare. I can tell he's seething inwardly as he presses the elevator button. “I'm going to pick up our daughters from school. I've waited around long enough.”

I step in to give him a kiss, but he jerks his head back.

I grapple for words as the elevator opens and he steps inside, his hand pressing the button to take him to the building's main lobby.

“I'll see you when I get home. Okay?”

“I won't wait up,” he says, his lips tight as the doors close and his face disappears from view.

•  •  •

“I think Craig knows.”

I close Charles' door behind me, moving across the gray-colored
carpet in his office. I'm smartly dressed in a brown pencil skirt and pink sleeveless blouse. My six-inch red bottoms make my back arch and my ass pop.

My nerves have been on edge ever since last night when Craig confronted me while I still had a mouthful of his nut in my mouth. Something I never expected from him. I almost choked. In all the years we've been together, he's never flat-out accused me of—
cheating.

“Are you fucking him?”

“Am I fucking who?”

“Charles.”

“Of course I'm
not
fucking him! Charles and I are colleagues. And we're working on this case together so we spend a lot of time together.”

“Yeah, I just bet the two of you are. I can't put my finger on it, but I know there's something going on between the two of you. It's in my gut.”

“Well, I don't care what your gut is telling you.
I'm
telling you, I'm not screwing him!”

“For your sake, Markisha, I hope not.”

The tinge of guilt that elicits all but drowns out the voice in my head that says I should end this affair with Charles before things get messy. But I'm not ready to.

And, last night—even after I quickly showered, then slipped into bed and eased my hand into the slit of Craig's boxers, snaking his flaccid dick out and sucking it to life—I tried to rationalize in my head that there was nothing wrong with having the proverbial cake and eating it too.

He'd lain there, unenthused, unresponsive, unfazed, as I licked and sucked and slid my lips up and down the shaft of his dick. I remained undeterred by his detached disposition, feverishly sucking and gulping and licking and moaning until I'd eventually gotten the best of him and he grunted, groaned and began moving his hips.

That was my signal to keep laving him with my moist tongue. So I did.

Craig grunted.

And I sucked.

He grunted again.

And I sucked him deeper.

Licked him wetter. Sucked him harder. Massaged his balls. Then sucked them. Stroked him. Guilt brought me between his legs. Desperation forced me to give a porn star-worthy performance.

I sucked and gulped and swallowed Craig deep into my mouth and down my throat until his hand clamped around the back of my head, his hips joining the pulsing rhythm of my mouth and throat.

Craig growled. His grip around my head tightened. And then he was stabbing up into my mouth, mercilessly jabbing the back of my throat until a thick rope of heated seed flooded the back of my mouth.

•  •  •

I take a deep breath and cough as Charles looks up from the deposition transcript in his hand. There's a glint of amusement in his eyes as he looks at me. “You think your husband
knows
what?”

I take one of the two chrome-and-leather chairs in front of his desk and sit, crossing my legs. “About us.”

He raises a brow, and grins at me. “Exactly what is it you
think
he knows…about
us?”

I shift in my seat, uncrossing my legs. “You know exactly what I mean. I think he knows I'm cheating on him.”

“With me?”

I shake my head. “No. I mean, maybe.”

“Well, which is it?”

Suddenly, the muscles in the back of my neck tighten. “He doesn't know for sure. But he suspects it. He flat-out asked me last night if we were fucking.”

“Okay,” he says calmly. “And what did you tell him?”

I give him an incredulous look. “What do you think I told him? I told him no.”

He smirks. “So you lied.”

I tilt my head. “Wouldn't you?”

“You need to figure out how to keep your husband happy,” he says, ignoring the question.

I roll my eyes, but nod knowingly.

“Listen. I'm not interested in getting caught up in any marital drama. No matter how good the pussy is.”

I cringe. He says this as if I'm some disposable piece of ass.

Bitch, because you are!

“So, you're still sleeping with your wife?” Immediately after I say this, I want to slap myself for asking such an asinine question. Of course he's still fucking her! Why wouldn't he be? She's his wife, for God's sake.

I stiffen as jealousy I know I don't have a right to possess edges over me.

As if he's reading my thoughts, he says, “She's my wife. I fuck her to keep her happy. And you should be doing the same. Handle your business at home. There's no reason for you to be denying him pussy
unless
you
want
problems. Withholding pussy makes a man's mind wander. The last thing you want is, him becoming more suspicious than he already is.”

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