From Bully To Beloved

CALContent rights belong to NôvelDrama.Org.

In one fluid motion, I remove my tie and drape it over the coat hanger in the front room, then unbutton my shirt, leaving the top couple of buttons open. From behind me, I hear a huff, and turn to find Sera standing there, arms across her chest. “What a bunch of conceited jerks,” she hisses, stomping back to the dining room.

The clinking of plates echoes as she starts to clean up. “Forget about them,” I say, joining her. “This dinner reminded me why I hate fucking business politics.”

We carry the plates into the kitchen, placing them on the counter by the sink. Sera pauses cleaning to pour herself another glass of wine, this one a lot bigger than her first.

“Want one too?”

“Sure.”

She pours me a glass, then grabs hers and takes a huge gulp. First, we stare at each other in silence. When we put our glasses down, we both start grinning. She pulls out the box of cookies.

“Want one?”

“Sure.”

I repeat the whole “putting a cookie halfway into my mouth and leaning over” tactic, expecting a rejection and a smile. Sera doesn’t disappoint. She swats my arm away, but her expression carries amusement. After several cookies are down, her shoulders droop.

“I’m sorry, Cal. I really am.” She looks at me with those pretty eyes.

“Don’t be.”

“You know, I like my job. I don’t understand why people with money question that. They think everyone wants or needs to be at the top.” She turns and puts the empty cookie box away. “Yet they’d be the first ones complaining if they wanted to go out and there were no waitresses or chefs.”

I grab her hand and spin her around to face me. “Fuck them. Their opinion doesn’t matter. You’re fucking fantastic.”

“Oh, I know I am.” She nods once and downs half the wine in her glass in one swig.

There’s my Sera.

Maybe it’s the emotional charge between us or the way her body looks in that little black dress. Or it could be her seemingly unshakable confidence. Whichever it is, I need to kiss her. So, I don’t stop myself. Slipping my arm around her waist, I pull her forward and press my lips to hers.

Sera lets out a muffled squeak of surprise, and I take full advantage of her open mouth.

She tastes like cookies and wine, sweet, fruity, and robust, intoxicating as ever. The moment she feels my tongue, she throws her arms around my neck and presses that delicious body against mine. I push her back against the kitchen island, just like I’ve wanted to since I saw her earlier this evening. My tongue glides along hers, and it draws a whimper out of her.

That’s all I need.

I yank the knot from her hair, loosening it so I can bury my fingers in the soft locks. Without warning, I hook her leg around the back of my knees, pressing my hips into hers. My dick is hard, and I know she can feel it. Good. I want her to feel it. I want her to know exactly what she’s doing to me.

Judging by the way she writhes against me, the feeling is mutual. But she breaks the kiss, staring up at me with those gorgeous eyes of hers.

“Cal…?” she whispers.

“Don’t think, baby girl. Don’t think.”

“This issowrong. We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Uh-huh. Just do it,” I say, and I kiss her deeper, grabbing whatever I can reach. Slipping my hand under the hem of that dress, she moans when my fingers skim over the silky smoothness of her thighs.

“Sit up here, sweet thing.” I tug, and she moves with me, hopping up onto the island and wrapping her legs around me. A shiver of excitement runs down my spine, and I lose myself in her mouth and curves.

She pulls at my shirt and breaks the kiss to undo the rest of the buttons.

“This needs to go,” she breathes.

“Yeah, good thinking.”

She pushes it off my shoulders, and I let it fall to the floor. Sera’s eyes are dark with desire. Her hands run up my chest, nails dragging just light enough to make my body erupt into goosebumps. I hungrily dive in for more kisses, wrapping my arms around her hips.

“Ah, you’re so perfect,” I rumble. “Everything about you is fucking perfect.”

The seconds tick by while we grapple with each other. I yank down the straps of her dress and she wiggles her arms free, letting the fabric fall, revealing a black bra that’s leavingeverythingto the imagination. Her still-covered breasts fit so perfectly in my hands, giving an appreciative squeeze that drags another moan out of her-anything to make sure she keeps making those noises.

Her legs slide up to curl around my waist, and one of her hands buries into my hair, tugging excitedly while she drags me into a kiss. But kissing isn’t enough. I need more of her. I need to touch and taste everything. I trail my mouth down her cheek to her neck, nipping and biting as I go. The smooth expanse of creamy skin begs to be marked.

Her dress is bunched around her waist, and I take the opportunity to tug on her panties. They’re lacy and black, matching her bra and dress perfectly. Pulling back, I slide them down her legs, letting them fall.

“My fingers, or my mouth? How do you want to come?”

Her eyes grow wide. Without even blinking, she says, “Mouth!”

I drop to my knees and nudge her legs apart. “Finally.”

“Oh, my God,” she whispers.

Her lips are slick and parted. Her chest is heaving, full tits moving with each ragged breath. She’s nervous and eager at the same time. The sight of her pretty pink pussy-wet, slick, and ready for me, tells me she’s been craving this moment just like I have.

“Say please,” I say in that voice.