Bliss Ch. 01

"You should always wear skirts, Melody," he said, leaning in the doorway.

I glanced at my legs and realized my skirt – a swishy one this day – had slid down my legs, exposing them to mid-thigh level and revealing the top of one stocking.

"Geez, sorry about that," I said, swinging my legs down off my desk and pulling my skirt over my knees.

"Please don't apologize," he said, still leaning in the doorway. I glanced at him and noticed he was looking at me greedily again.

"Shall we get started?" I asked, my voice sounding the tiniest bit thicker than normal.

"Let's move to the conference room? It has far more space."

I nodded, gathering up the magazines and my laptop. Malcolm hovered in the doorway, moving aside slightly as I passed him, but not enough for me to avoid touching him. I very plainly felt his hand cup my ass and I shivered.

We camped out in the conference room all day, working until almost 7PM, when Malcolm finally glanced at his watch. We had come to a natural stopping point and decided to call it a day, making our way out together and waited for the elevator. The whatever-it-was I felt earlier (attraction? sexual tension? who knows?) had been pushed completely out of mind with the work.

"By the way, we're going to Houston next week," Malcolm said as we stepped in to the elevator. He pushed the buttons for the garage and lobby before leaning back and looking at me.

"We are? So soon?" I asked, surprised. I knew eventually we would have to make a presentation, a bid, in person, but I was wanting it to be later. I enjoyed being close to Malcolm too much. I didn't want that to end.

"Yes. Strike while the iron is hot."

"Okay."

"You should have your travel information tomorrow afternoon. We'll leave Sunday. Be prepared to stay a week."

"Yes, Malcolm," I said a bit absentmindedly, thinking about being in a strange city with him, in a hotel with him, wondering how far apart our rooms would be. The elevator stopped at the lobby and I started to get out, but Malcolm grabbed me by the arm, pulling me back in and hitting the button to close the doors behind me. "What...?" I began, but he stopped me with a finger on my lips.

"Say it again, Melody," he said, his voice a low threat, a pant.

"Say what?" I whispered. I was the tiniest bit nervous and hugest bit turned on. I looked at his eyes as they dropped to my breasts. I felt my nipples get hard. He lifted his eyes back to mine and I saw something...something wild in them, something barely held in check, and I felt the heat bloom between my legs at the thought of it. Suddenly, I realized what he wanted.

"Yes, Malcolm."

He kissed me, hard, forcing his tongue in to my mouth. The elevator arrived at the parking garage and the doors opened, but Malcolm didn't stop kissing me. He pushed me against the wall next to the control panel, pressing himself against me, stepping between my legs and bending his knees somewhat so I could feel his erection against my crotch. I whimpered – a small, almost mewling sound – and kissed him back, surrendering to the dizzying feelings radiating out from between my legs. He pulled the lever to stop the elevator as the doors slid shut on the garage, his grip on my arm tightened and I moaned.

He broke the kiss, leaning his head back to look at me, and began grinding against me, moving his hips in a parody of sex, rubbing his hard cock against me. I sighed, unconsciously angling myself and moving with him, trying to keep as much pressure on my clit as possible.

"Does that feel good?" he asked, moving a bit from side to side.

"Yes, Malcolm," I whispered, eyes closed. My hands were flat against the wall behind me, giving me leverage to push my hips back at him.

"Lift up your skirt," he said, and I opened my eyes to look at him. He was looking back at me levelly, his eyes inscrutable, and I knew that I could say no.

I didn't want to.

"Yes, Malcolm," I breathed, raising my skirt to my hips.

"Do you know what kind of woman wears her panties on the outside of her garter?" he asked teasingly, his hands sliding up my thighs to my hips, grabbing the lace underwear I wore and pulling at it until it ripped. "A slut, Melody. A dirty little slut wears her panties outside her garter." He pulled them harder until he was able to get them mostly torn off and I could feel cool air against my sex. "Isn't that so?"

"Yes, Malcolm," I moaned. I heard him unzip his pants and I drew in my breath in anticipation, spreading my legs a bit more and angling my hips toward him.

"You want me to fuck you, Melody?" he asked quietly, caressing my cheek with his hand. "Right here in the elevator?" I bit my lip, shame burning my cheeks. But still, I nodded. "Say it. Tell me what you want me to do."

"I want you to fuck me," I whispered, a hot tear running down my cheek. "Please, Malcolm."

He smiled, and in one seamless movement, thrust himself inside me hard enough to lift me off my feet. I cried out, throwing my arms and legs around him as I came, shaking, and he grunted into my neck.

"Your cunt is so wet for me, isn't it? Like a good little slut," he breathed into my neck as he impaled me on him. Each thrust hit my cervix with a most delicious feeling – pain, but good pain, pleasurable pain – that had me at the edge of orgasm again. "Are you my good little slut?" he grunted.

"Yes, Malcolm," I moaned.

"You want to come again, don't you? My good little slut wants to come, wants her hot, tight cunt to squeeze me. She likes being fucked hard, doesn't she?"

The combination of hearing him speak to me so profanely in that proper, clipped British accent and the way he moved inside me pushed me over and I climaxed again, and again, and again. I called myself his slut, I agreed with everything he said, I begged him to fuck me harder, I begged him to come inside me and I begged him to never stop. In the end, I settled for moaning "please, Malcolm" and "yes, Malcolm" over and over as he groaned and came inside me, my body shaking around his from head to foot as his orgasm triggered another one for me.

He leaned his head on my shoulder, and I could feel the sweat from his brow dampen my blouse as he began to shrink inside me. He kept his head down, resting a moment as I untangled myself from him and slid down. I held on to his shoulders a moment, making sure my legs would hold me up before I tried to push him away.

"Don't," he said quietly, raising his head and kissing me softly. He looked at me but I dropped my eyes, cheeks bright red and tears blurring my vision.

"Don't be embarrassed, Melody. You are so lovely, so beautiful." He kissed me again, putting his arms around me. "I could not help myself," he sighed.

"Oh...Malcolm," I breathed, snuggling against him for a moment, enjoying his warmth.

"Let me take you home."

"I'd rather not," I said, shaking my head.

"Of course," he said, stepping back and rearranging his clothes. I shook out my skirt and smoothed my hair, wiping the mascara-tinged tears from under my eyes. He took me in his arms again briefly before reaching over and restarting the elevator, hitting the button for the lobby. He put a finger under my chin, lifting my eyes to his. "This is quite far from over, Melody," he whispered as the elevator doors slid open on the empty lobby. He kissed me, slipping his tongue in and out of my mouth quickly, before letting me go.

"Good night, Malcolm," I said shakily, stepping out of the elevator as he gave me a slight bow. I turned and watched the doors slide shut between us, the promise of his words making me shiver.