The Client Meeting

The hotel bar smelled of gin and ambition. I was two hours into my first business trip with Hartwell Consulting, and my new boss, Elena Vance, had just ordered us a second round of martinis. She was forty-five, razor-sharp, and wearing a charcoal dress that hugged every curve like it had been tailored by someone who knew exactly what they were doing.

“You’re nervous,” she said, stirring her drink with a thin glass rod. Her eyes didn’t miss a thing. “You keep glancing at the door like you’re expecting the client to walk in and eat you alive.”

“I’m just trying to make a good impression,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt.

She laughed, low and warm. “The client’s not coming until tomorrow. Tonight, it’s just us.” She slid her glass toward me, our fingers brushing on the sticky cherry wood. “Relax, Marcus. You’ve earned this.”

I’d earned a lot more than I realized.

We’d moved to her suite by midnight, ostensibly to review the presentation one more time. But the PowerPoint was forgotten the moment she kicked off her heels and sat on the edge of the king bed, patting the spot beside her.

“You’ve been staring at my mouth all night,” she said, matter-of-fact. “I’m not stupid.”

My throat went dry. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Don’t apologize.” She leaned in, and I caught the scent of her perfume—something floral and sharp, like night jasmine. “I’ve been thinking about what that mouth of yours could do since the moment you walked into my office.”

I kissed her before she could say another word. She tasted like gin and power, and she bit my lower lip hard enough to make me gasp. Her hands were already working at my belt, impatient, efficient. I groaned against her neck as she freed my cock, her palm wrapping around the shaft with an expert’s grip.

“Look at you,” she whispered, stroking me slowly, watching me twitch in her hand. “All that tension from the flight. I’m going to take it out of you.”

She pushed me back against the pillows, and I watched, breathless, as she slid off the bed and knelt between my legs. Her eyes never left mine as she lowered her mouth onto me.

Christ. Her lips were hot and wet, and she took me deep without flinching, her tongue pressing flat against the underside of my cock. She moaned around me, and the vibration nearly undid me. I fisted the sheets, trying to hold still.

“Elena—” My voice cracked.

She pulled off just enough to speak, her lips slick and red. “Don’t you dare come yet. I want to feel you lose control in my mouth.”

I didn’t stand a chance. She took me again, faster now, her head bobbing with a rhythm that was pure muscle memory. Her hand cupped my balls, squeezing gently, and I felt the heat building low in my gut like a wave about to break.

“I’m close,” I managed, my hips bucking involuntarily.

She looked up at me, and there was a glint in her eye—a challenge. She didn’t stop. She swallowed me to the root, her throat opening to take me in, and that was it.

I came with a guttural groan, my cock pulsing in her mouth. She held me there, her cheeks hollowed, and I felt every spasm of my release trickle down her throat. She didn’t pull away until I was spent, and when she finally released me, she licked her lips slowly, deliberately.

“Good boy,” she said, her voice rougher now. “Now come here.”

She stood and shucked off her dress in one fluid motion. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and her breasts were full, tipped with dark nipples that were already peaked. She lay back on the bed and spread her legs, and I saw how wet she was—her pussy glistening, swollen, ready.

“You owe me,” she said, crooking a finger. “And I don’t like to be kept waiting.”

I crawled up her body, my mouth finding her nipple first. She sighed, arching into me, her fingers threading through my hair. I worked my way down her stomach, tasting the salt of her skin, until I reached the heat between her thighs.

She gasped when my tongue found her clit. “Fuck, yes. Just like that.”

I licked her slowly, teasing, until she was grinding against my face with a desperate rhythm. Her thighs clenched around my head, and I heard her breath catch.

“Enough,” she panted, pulling my hair. “I need you inside me. Now.”

I positioned myself at her entrance, and she wrapped her legs around my waist, pulling me in. She was tight and slick, and I groaned as I sank into her to the hilt. She was so wet I could hear it, a wet, obscene sound that made my cock twitch inside her.

“Move,” she commanded, digging her nails into my shoulders.

I fucked her hard, the way she demanded, my hips slamming against hers. She met me thrust for thrust, her tits bouncing, her mouth open in a silent moan. The headboard knocked against the wall, and I didn’t care. I was lost in her.

“Don’t stop,” she begged, her voice breaking. “Right there—don’t you fucking stop.”

I could feel her tightening around me, her whole body trembling. She came with a sharp cry, her inner walls clenching around my cock, pulling me over the edge with her. I buried myself deep and came inside her, hot and shuddering, my face buried in her neck.

We lay there, tangled and slick, the ceiling fan whirring overhead. She traced a lazy pattern on my chest.

“The client meeting’s at nine,” she murmured. “We should get some sleep.”

I laughed, breathless. “You think I’ll be able to think about anything else?”

She smiled, a slow, satisfied curve of her lips. “That’s the point, Marcus. I want you distracted.”

Morning came with weak sunlight through the curtains and the smell of coffee. She was already dressed, sharp and professional, a fresh cup in her hand. She handed me mine, and our fingers brushed.

“You did well last night,” she said, her voice neutral, but her eyes were warm. “Let’s see if you can do the same in front of the client.”

I raised my cup to her, grinning. “I’ll give it everything I’ve got.”

She turned away, but I caught the ghost of a smile on her lips. And I knew, whatever happened in that boardroom, I was already hooked.