I look down, confused. I wore a high-waisted pencil skirt with a white blouse, sheer stockings, and black suede stiletto pumps to work today. This is my normal attire when going out of the house to work. He has seen me in these kinds of outfits a million times.
“What?” I ask, my head tilting to the side, studying his expression.
His hands come up to pull the pins out of my hair, tossing them onto the island in the kitchen. Then they go to my top, unbuttoning it and pulling it to the side before undoing the front clasp on my bra, releasing it so my br**sts are free. “You have this whole naughty-librarian thing going on.” His hands lift my br**sts as his head dips so he can lick each nipple before biting and sucking them, making me grab his hair. “Every time you leave the house in one of these getups, all I can think about is you on your knees in front of me, your skirt up around your waist while I watch you suck me off,” he says as his hands begin to pull my skirt up my thighs and his teeth bite down on my earlobe.
“Oh,” I breathe, feeling his fingers pull my panties to the side and then two fingers fill me.
“Look at how wet you are,” he groans, pulling his two fingers up between us. He’s not wrong; I can feel the wetness between my legs, and my clit is now throbbing. He puts his fingers in his mouth, his eyes on me the whole time. “So sweet.” His hands go to my waist. Then I hear material tearing, and I realize that he is ripping off my panties. “I’ve had this fantasy since the first moment I met you. You were on your knees in front of me, your tits out,” he says, rubbing his thumb over one nipple and then the other, “and your skirt up around your waist.” He looks down, and I feel a hand on my bare ass. “The stockings… Those are a bonus,” he growls, trailing his hand around before one finger slides over my clit. “Do you want to make my fantasy reality?”
I bite my lip, nodding my head. Without thinking, I sink to my knees in front of him. I look up, running my hands up his thighs before unbuttoning his jeans and pulling down his zipper. I hear a low rumble and my eyes lift to his, and then I watch as his nostrils flare. The second his jeans are unzipped, he springs free, bouncing against his stomach. Commando—so hot.
One of my hands goes to the back of his thigh, the other to the base of his cock, pulling it down towards me. Seeing his piercing makes my mouth water. Knowing the way it feels when he’s inside me causes a whole new surge of wetness to spread between my thighs. I lick the head before closing my mouth over it. I can’t get much of him into my mouth. He’s too thick and long, so I use my hand, moving it along his shaft along with my mouth.
“Give me your eyes, Sophie.”
I lift my eyes to his; watching his expression as I work him makes me want to please him that much more. I stroke him fast, and then his hands are in my hair at the sides of my head.
“This is better than any fantasy I’ve ever had,” he groans, his head falling back and his hips pumping himself in and out of my mouth. “Shit, baby,” he says, and before I know what’s happening, he pulls out of my mouth, turns me around, and sinks into me from behind.
My hands go to the hardwood in front of me, my head bowing forward. Nico’s hands go to my hips, lifting me higher, forcing himself deeper. He plows into me hard and fast. His hand slides around my waist, his fingers zeroing in on my clit. He circles it as his other hand goes to my breast, pinching my nipple. I cry out as I feel the first wave of my orgasm wash over me.
“Fuck,” he groans, planting himself balls-deep and grinding his hips as he spills into me. “You okay?” he asks after catching his breath, sitting me up on my knees.
“I think so,” I whimper as he pulls out of me.
His hands remove my shoes before wrapping an arm around my waist to help me up. “Shit, baby,” he says, looking down.
I look at him then follow his eyes to my knees, which are red from the hardwood floors. “I’m okay.” I smile, feeling my cheeks heat up. I’m still so dazed by that orgasm that I wouldn’t notice any pain.
“Let’s shower.” He picks me up, carries me to the bathroom, and then helps me get undressed and into the shower before stripping his jeans off, following me in. “I have another fantasy,” he whispers in my ear as his hands massage my br**sts from behind.
“Oh yeah?” I ask, tilting my head to the side.
“Oh yeah,” he says, nipping my neck before showing me a few other fantasies he’s had. All of them are awesome, but my favorite has me with my thighs wrapped around his head.
“Tomorrow we’re going to dinner at my parents so you can meet everyone.”
I try to lift my head to look at him, but I’m just too exhausted. “Was this your plan? Wear me out so I don’t argue?”
“No, but it sounds smart.” I hear the smile in his voice and can’t help but to smile back.
“I’m nervous about meeting them, but I also can’t wait,” I confess quietly.
“Really?” he asks, making me feel like a jerk.
I hate that he thinks I don’t want to meet them. It’s never been about not wanting to meet them. It’s always been about being afraid of what would happen if I had a panic attack or something. I don’t want them to think that their son should find someone else who’s normal.
“Don’t sound so surprised.” I run my hand along his abs. “I want to see where you come from and meet the people who raised you. Plus, you’ve talked about your brothers and their families so much that I feel like I already know them.”