Content advisory: coarse language, oral sex, m/f sex
Recap: In Chapter Two, Crispin pays his debt to Petra, but it isn’t the payment she expected.
Crispin
“Fuck.”
Crispin sat up straight for the third time since the start of his shift an hour earlier. The gouges Petra had left in his back continued to sting like a son of a bitch and he was finding it difficult to get comfortable.
He smirked. Her outrage at him calling out Anna’s name when he’d come was understandable, and funny as hell. Served the lying bitch right. The thought reminded him – Crispin owed Rissa a huge thank you. As it turned out, Petra hadn’t been the only one to come in early the night he’d gone to Anna. The difference was, Rissa had shown up shortly after he’d left. Petra hadn’t noticed her presence in the staff room thanks to her voyeuristic moment in the observation room and subsequent bribery outside the launch deck.
“Bitch,” he growled and flung himself from the chair. The cuckoo clock chimed nine. Plenty of time to hunt down a pillow for his back and get comfy before the nightly ‘Anna Show’ began.
The tiny bells on the tips of his shoes jingled as he walked and Cris laughed softly at the joke the footwear represented. He’d begun wearing them on a lark in the toy room and, when his promotion had come through, dubbed them his lucky slippers. Not many people raised their eyebrows at them anymore. The funny footwear had become as commonplace as his easy grin.
“Hey Cris.”
“Rissa?” he gasped. “What are you still doing here?”
His gaze roamed over her. Long brown hair, flashing green eyes and curvy in all the right places. She was a dead ringer for Anna and the sight of her stirred his cock to life. The black, low cut top and red micro mini left little to the imagination and his had no problem filling in the blanks. Fuck. Yeah, he’d like to – absolutely.
“How’s your back?” she asked with a smile. “Still killing you? Betcha that chair is a bitch after a couple of hours into your shift.”
Cris smirked and shrugged. “I’m dealing. What are you still doing here, Ris?”
Her lashes lowered in a flirty manner as she stepped closer. His dick went from half-mast to full salute at warp speed. Soft, full breasts pressed against him. Her perfume, like warm sugar cookies, filled his senses.
“I thought I’d stick around. See if you needed any help putting ointment on those scratches.”
“Ointment?” he squeaked.
Rissa’s rich laugh tickled his ears. The warm rush of her breath beat against his chest, heating his skin through the ‘Rudolph the Brown Noser Reindeer’ t-shirt. Cris closed his eyes and took a shallow breath.
I can’t screw Santa’s daughter. I can’t screw Santa’s daughter. He repeated the mantra, praying someone else had stayed and would come in any minute to save him from himself.
“Crispin, open your eyes and look at me,” she commanded. When he didn’t comply, she slid one of her hands between them and gave his package an attention grabbing squeeze.
He did as she asked, if only so she would release the firm grip she had on his genitals. Rissa gifted him with a satisfied smile and let go.
“Why me, Rissa?” he asked. “I’m sure any guy you want would be happy to have your attentions.”
“I know,” she pouted. “But I don’t want any of them. I want you, Cris.”
Shit. The one woman who was so off-limits she might as well be shrouded in a glass case with a top of the line alarm system wanted him.
“Listen, Anna,” he blurted. “I mean, Rissa. We can’t….”
She cut him off. “Wait. Did you just call me Anna?”
Crapsickles. She’d caught the slip. “Yeah. Sorry. I was thinking of her before I came in here looking for a cushion. Guess she’s been on my mind a bit too much lately.”
“Really?” she studied him. He squirmed like a bug under a microscope. “Come with me. I think you need to show me this little human who has you bound up in knots.”
“Aw, fuck.”
Rissa grabbed a pillow from the bed by the door and strode out. He slowly followed behind. No point in rushing his demise. When she got a look at her doppelganger the jig would be up.
Crispin reclined against the pillow Rissa had insisted on lining his chair with earlier. He glanced at the clock counting down the seconds on the monitor. T-minus ten seconds until Anna walked into her bedroom and his world went to shit.
His gaze travelled over Rissa as she surveyed the bank of monitors. She was turned away from him as she studied the bedroom on display. He admired the line of her back and the way her ass formed a heart shape beneath the stretchy fabric of her skirt.
Captain Happy bucked in his pants and he stifled a groan. Not now. Please, not when Anna was about to give Rissa all the ammo she needed to drag him into her bed. Not that he’d complain much. Her father, however, would string him up by his nuts and let the reindeer use him for tetherball.
The cuckoo clock began sounding his death knell in the other room and Cris jumped nervously, nearly toppling from his chair in the process.
“Oh, she’s pretty,” Rissa complimented the woman on screen.
“What?” Cris looked up, stunned.
Anna stood at the foot of her bed and looked directly into the camera. Brazenly, she sucked a finger to wet the tip and brought it down to circle the crest of a heavy globe. Her eyes flashed mischievously. He knew what she was doing but he couldn’t give her what she wanted. Not tonight. Not with Santa’s daughter standing two feet from him, eyes glued to the screen.
Rissa turned to face him, the same glint flashing from her gaze as it raked upward from the bells on his slippers to the bulge in his pants and higher.
“I understand now,” she smirked. “You want me, but you’ll settle for her because you think I’m off-limits to you. Is that it, Cris?”
He swallowed hard. “Yes. No. Maybe?”
Laughter like sleigh bells tinkled from her lips. “Oh, honey. Are you scared of what Daddy might do if he finds out one of his elves fucked me?”
“Yes. Maybe. No?” Damn it. This was not going the way he’d envisioned things would one day go between them.
Crispin took a deep breath, sat straight and pinned her with his wintergreen eyes. “Listen,” he began. “You’re the boss’ daughter. Anyone who tries to get into your pants is likely to suffer some kind of punishment at your dad’s hands. I like my dangly bits right where they are thanks.”
She kicked his feet apart and planted her Namolo Flahnik’s between them. Her knees pressed against his crotch as she leaned in close. Once again, Rissa’s warm sugar cookie scent swirled around him and he couldn’t help but wonder if she’d taste as good as she smelled. Probably better, he mused.
“Guess you’re not quite the man I thought you were,” she murmured. Her warm breath gusted softly over his ear sending waves of goose bumps out over his skin. “You are a man, right, Cris?”
Crispin saw her taunt for what it was, a gauntlet thrown down. A dare. Her own version of catch me if you’re man enough to do it, and he most definitely was man enough. More than.
Movement on the screen behind Rissa caught his attention. Anna had moved on with her nightly orgasmfest while he and her double sparred.
“What do you want, Crispin?” Rissa demanded. “Me or her?”
He glanced from one woman to the other. Both forbidden fruit and equally as tempting.
“You. Her. Fuck.”
Rissa cocked a chestnut brow at him. “Both of us?”
“Yes,” he sighed.
She smirked. “I think that might be doable. But first….”
Brain too busy focusing on the ‘doable’ part of Rissa’s statement, Cris didn’t notice what she was doing. His hips jerked with the force of her yank on the fly of his pants and pulled him back to the present.
“What the hell?” he yelped. “Rissa?”
He spotted her kneeling between his thighs, hands full of his jeans and a wicked gleam in her eyes. The cotton candy pink tip of her tongue swept out to moisten her lips and Captain Happy jumped in response. Traitor.
“Shush,” she admonished. “Sit back and let me.”
Cris wanted to say no, he really did, but his head moved up and down in a nod. His hips lifted to assist Rissa with the removal of his jeans and came back down on the warm leather of his chair.
“Ris…” he began, but the warm sweep of her tongue up the length of his cock shut him up. He sat mesmerized by Rissa and the way she licked him like a Tootsie Pop, the Crispin flavored variety. It would take more than sixty-two licks to get to his center though.
Leaning back in the chair, Cris gripped the armrests and let Rissa do what she wanted. Could he really say no to the woman of his dreams when she knelt between his knees and slid the length of his dick between her plump lips? Hell, no.
The pain in his shoulders flared as he pushed against the back of the chair. He hissed, the discomfort adding an edge to the sensations Rissa created with her tongue on his cock. Her head bobbed steadily over his crotch, the soft slurping of her sucking the only sound in the room besides his heavy breathing.
Rissa pulled up, her tongue swirling over the engorged head of his shaft and teasing the sensitive edges of the crimson mushroom cap. A drop of precum glistened from the slit and he held still as she licked it up and then sucked him down to the root in one swift swallow.
“Fuck,” he groaned and then sighed. “Yeah.”
She hummed softly, the gentle vibrations against the tip of his cock sending a layer of goose bumps out over his skin. Crispin gripped the chair arms tighter and revised his earlier thought about how many licks it would take to make him come. The things Rissa was doing to him, she’d wreak havoc on his stamina with another move like the last one.
“Rissa,” he pleaded. “You’re killing me.”
Her answer came in the form of a muffled chuckle around his girth and a quick tug of his balls. Crispin bucked off the chair, teeth clamped together in ecstasy. He promised himself: when they were done, he’d thank every god he could think of for Rissa’s interest in him. Paradise made flesh? Yeah, she was it.
Rissa waited for him to settle his ass back into the chair before continuing her ministrations. She worked her mouth up and down, cheeks hollowing slightly each time she bobbed upward.
Cris dug his fingers into the soft mass of Rissa’s hair, neither forcing her movements nor restricting them. His hips twitched between Rissa and the seat, the leather creaking with each subtle thrust against her lips.
Breath coming in short, sharp gasps, Crispin gave her hair a gentle tug and hoped she’d understand the signal. Rissa sucked hard and he let out a strangled moan as the tingle in his lower back worked its way forward in a rush of heat.
“Rissa… fuck,” he grunted.
She pulled back mere seconds before a thick, heavy stream of cum shot out of his cock. Cris’ hips jerked as spasm after spasm rocked him.
“Now that,” she said with a smirk, “is damn sexy.”
Crispin grunted as the last wave of his orgasm pumped onto his stomach. He looked up at Rissa from where he sat sprawled in the console chair.
“Totally not how I expected this to end,” he panted. Cris looked down at his soiled shirt and chuckled. “Good thing I keep a spare shirt in the staff room.”
Placing a kiss on the base of his shaft, Rissa winked at him and stood. She leaned back against the desk, lifting slightly to rest her ass on the edge. Leaning forward, she ran her hands up over the supple length of her thighs until they caught in the hem of her skirt.
Cris waited, eager to see where she was going with the demonstration. He peeled off his soiled shirt and dropped it in the wastebasket beneath the desk without looking away.
Fingers hooked into the hem of her miniskirt, Rissa inched it up agonizingly slow. He finally got a glimpse of what lay beneath the scrap of material and groaned; bare skin, glistening pink with moisture and nothing else. No panties to keep him from leaning forward and tasting, finding out for himself if she tasted as good as she smelled.
Scooting closer, Crispin skimmed his hands up Rissa’s thighs. He slipped his fingers beneath her bottom and she lifted to allow him to cup her firm ass cheeks in his palms.
Securely in his grasp, Rissa placed one stiletto-clad foot on either side of him and rocked forward. One slim finger teased at the seam of her pussy, smearing the evidence of her arousal over the shaved surface.
“Go ahead,” she urged. “I want you to fuck me with your mouth, Cris.”
Crispin slid his hands forward, thumbs pulling her nether lips apart to expose the swollen pearl at the apex. Mouth watering in anticipation, he leaned in and slowly swept his tongue from the dark dip of her hole to the hard nub of her clit. He teased the small bundle of nerves, swirling his tongue around it and sucking on the tender flesh.
Sugar cookies, he thought. Never gonna look at another one the same.
Rissa sank the fingers of one hand into his hair, her nails gently scraping along his scalp as she rocked against his mouth. He glanced up and groaned; she’d pulled aside the deep v of her top and her free hand worked at her light brown nipples.
Less than five minutes before, he’d come all over himself but Crispin felt himself growing hard again. He sent a thank you up to the gods of quick recovery and refocused his attention on the sweet, slippery ambrosia on his tongue.
The tightening of her fingers in his hair was the first clue to Rissa’s impending orgasm. Her soft mewls of pleasure turned to pleading, urging cries when he slipped two fingers into her tight pussy and stroked hard and fast. Rissa’s inner walls grasped at him, pulling him in deeper with each flutter.
Waiting until the first, strong squeeze of her release, Crispin pulled away from Rissa. He withdrew a small foil packet from his pocket, ripped it open as he stood and quickly sheathed himself with the condom. Gripping Rissa’s thighs, he slowly pushed inside of her and groaned at the tight heat surrounding him.
“Fuck,” he cursed.
“Yes!” she cried.
“Please do,” a voice from the doorway encouraged.
Crispin froze and turned his head. Surely he’d imagined the familiar voice. His eyes widened at the sight of his tall, blond best friend. Nope, not imagining anything.
“Randy?” Crispin frowned. “What the fuck?”
“You said to drop in… anytime,” Randy said. He gave them a cocky smirk. “So, this is what happens on the Naughty List night shift. Nice. How do I get in on the action?”
Rissa chose that moment to speak up, “Maybe another night, handsome. Tonight, it’s just me and Cris. Now go away, you’re fucking up my orgasm.”
Randy saluted them and sauntered out. His laughter trailed back to them as he walked away.
“I’m sorry,” Cris said.
Rissa rocked her hips against him. “Don’t be. Now, where were we?”
~*~
Copyright © 2011 Danielle Gavan
Danielle Gavan
Paranormal and Erotic Romance Author
Paranormal and Erotic Romance Author
All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.
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