Persephone's Creamy Peach Cream Pie

At eight twenty-two, Daniel walked into his home office with a double-shot espresso—a rarity these days for when decaf was just not enough to cover five hours of sleep—in his right hand and his chiming phone in his left to discover that all hell had broken loose. To his great dismay.

"Persephone!" he bellowed. His drill sergeant voice reverberated through walls and her eardrums. Although whether it could stick in the space between her ears would remain a mystery.

She chose today, of all days—right before a project deadline and a full schedule of meetings—to renovate his office space. Daniel had passed the office chaise lounge and rounded his desk to find that on the other side of the screen, the desk surface was spotless. All his peripherals, gone. And in their place, a single maroon silk tie draped over the computer screen right in the center, its muted paisley screaming at him against the darkened screen more loudly than his clamoring phone.

Upstairs, nestled in the warm covers, Persephone could only imagine Daniel's face when he saw how she had remodeled his office. She pulled the corner of the blanket to cover her smirk—if one didn't know her, one would assume that the innocent smile was merely an act of guilt, however fleeting the display—but she knew she couldn't fool Daniel, so she'd stayed in bed, feigning sleep when he got up at that ungodly hour of eight a.m. to prep for his meeting.

"You're going to pay for this. One way or another." Daniel yelled in the direction of the bedroom, where, no doubt, Persephone was still sound asleep. He should turn this around and teach her a lesson and give himself a happy ending. He didn't even have time to—another ping from his phone—to contemplate if he was going to edge her or spank her before the notifications on his phone dinged again.

Although, in Persephone's defense, it had been three fucking days since she had Daniel's cock in her. "It's not that I don't want to fuck you, OK? I just have a deadline," Daniel had tried to explain before his eyelids shut tight last night. With a frustrated humph, she slipped out of bed and into his office. Desperate time called for desperate measures.

Smiling, Persephone pulled her hair into a ponytail and put on her red lingerie and matching lipstick, determined to get the cock that was her due.

"Did you say something?" Thirty minutes later, Persephone emerged from the doorway to Daniel's office, fully expecting a crime scene: upturned drawers and cleared out cabinets, and amidst the mess, an exasperated Daniel, desperately searching for his mouse and keyboard. But she found none of that.

Standing by the window, Daniel turned to her voice, and only with years of control could he keep his jaw from slacking. Because, in his office doorway, stood Persephone in scarlet blossoms. Tiny flowers knitted and joined each other to hug the gentle swell of her breasts, fitting the contours seamlessly, holding her tits high. Her nipples, tight and rosy and perfect, peeked through the pattern, at once coyly hiding and begging for his closer attention. And then the flowers gathered to cover her naked mons, coming together, fusing into the translucent fine tulle, the tuft of jet-black curls at the tip of the slit glistening underneath. The silk then molded along the ample lips of her pussy, creasing in the center.

Oh, and she looked furious.

"Who has a dress shirt stowed in their office?" Her voice was seeping with anger. Of course, he'd put on the tie.

Satisfaction swelled in Daniel along with his dick as he asked, "What do you mean, baby? Who doesn't keep a dress shirt in the office?"

Persephone stomped her foot, making her ass cheeks jiggle, and, momentarily, that was all Daniel could think of. That, and several other ways he could make her ass jiggle for him. He would start with the palm of his hand. He smiled to himself, which only added more fuel to Persephone's burning fire. She said, "The tie was not there for you to wear!"

"No?" he said, trying to keep his tone even as he returned to his seat. "Strange, then. I could swear I bought the necktie years ago in Milan for myself."

"It was there for you to..." Salacious memories flooded her mind, unbidden and yet irresistible: her wearing nothing but a pair of handcuffs around her wrists and the silk tie on her eyes. Her arms stretched and pinned over her head, tied to the bedpost. Her own scent mixed with his musk permeated in the room. His arms wrapped around her thighs, rough stubbles scraping against the smooth skin. Warm tongue at the center, working at her core, pulsing and licking and—

The words hung on her lips.

"For me to what?" Daniel arched his left eyebrow.

She paused, her breath catching, flush rising rapidly from her neck, and then, "Nothing."

"Nothing?" Daniel smiled, delighting in the way she blushed. "How can it be nothing when you're blushing like that?"

"I'm not blushing."

Daniel's smile grew wider. "Are you sure? Then what was the tie for, baby? Tell me."

"It was for..." She shook her head as though to clear her mind of the memory of his expert tongue on her pussy when she'd pulled against the handcuffs, smooth but firm around her wrists. "No."

Laughing, Daniel couldn't pretend anymore. "Oh, for Christ's sake! Just tell me you want my cock!"

"I don't have to tell you." She came closer to him, hips swaying, ass jiggling with each step. Then with one flick of her wrist, she let down her hair, tussling down waves of her jet-black hair.

Daniel swallowed hard before he said, "Oh, you don't, huh? Is that what you believe?"

Standing in front of Daniel, Persephone swirled around. The silhouette of her body tapered at the waist and flared out at her hips, feminine and seductive. Two globes of ass cheeks encased in the sheer tulle panties teased him. And then those two rounded cheeks were on his lap. "I just have to show you."

Persephone reached one arm around his neck and took his meaty earlobe in between her teeth. Daniel growled, not bothering to hide his reaction. "I admire your enthusiasm, but I'm afraid that's not enough."

"I think your dick disagrees." She ground her ass into his erection.

He should be given a medal for retaining his speech ability when all he could feel was her firm ass cheek on his cock. "My dick loves your attention, for sure. But you see, I am not as easily distracted as my cock. No, no, no. Because I have control. That, and I have a meeting in three minutes." He wrapped his arm around her hip and cupped her sex. When he started circling where she wanted him the most with his fingers, Persephone let out a sigh as if she had finally been rewarded with the marshmallow.

She thrust her hips up to bring her clit closer to his fingers, only to be met with no resistance. No relief. The bastard had removed his hand.

He laughed, his breaths hot on her cheek. "You're so predictable!"

"I don't need more than three minutes." There was a bit of pleading in her voice, and Daniel liked it too much.

"I know you don't need more than three minutes. Because you're a good girl, aren't you? Good girls can always come for me, whenever and wherever." His hand returned to her pussy, gently pressing. Moaning, Persephone undulated on his lap, rocking into his fingers, as his other hand squeezed her tit. The soft silk provided no barrier for him to knead her flesh and tease her sensitive nipple.

"Tell me what you need, and I'll let you come," Daniel said, his cock rock-solid under her ass, pre-cum oozing from the tip. It'd be such a rush of endorphins for him if she came right then, and it'd instantly put him in a better mood for the endless meetings of the day.

So of course Persephone would say, "No."

He tsked his tongue. "I'll give you another chance. Say, 'I need your cock, Daniel.' And I'll make you come."

"Daniel, I need..." she moaned, and knowing he'd give it to her anyway—he could never resist her; he wanted her pleasure as much as she wanted it—she said, "...your soufflé."

"You think you're funny, huh?" he asked while doubling down on her sensitive clit, making her yelp. "You have one minute before my meeting."

And then his fingers on her nub gentled into a relentless cadence. Melting in his arms, Persephone arched into him, burying her head in the crook of his neck. Streams of hot profanity flowed from her lips to tease his earlobe. He loved her filthy mouth like no other, but what made it addictive was his ability to summon it from this woman. It was his power and prerogative.

She bucked against him, letting out tiny encouragements—not that Daniel needed any—taking what she deserved and embracing what he gave freely. His circling became harder, sliding along the soppy silk. "Yes, yes, yes. More, Daniel, more."

"That's it. I love it when you sound like you are just so desperate for me," he drawled. "Tell me what you need."

Persephone shook her head and ground her hips into him. Harder. With more abandon.

He sensed her impending orgasm—her ab muscles twitching, fingers digging into his scalp—so Daniel pushed her up from his lap in one smooth motion and swatted her ass, her juices fresh on his finger tips. "OK, young lady, your time is up."

Shocked, Persephone could barely register what'd just happened, her swollen clit pumping, pulling all her blood. "You cannot..." she stammered, her breath hitching. "I can feel your pre-cum on my ass! You cannot stop here!"

"Oh, yes, I can. I am used to having pre-cum soaked through my jeans and dripping down my thigh during meetings these days—I hardly have to explain to you why that is. Though I'll admit it's a bit uncomfortable, but, you know, I feel bad for your poor little clit over here"—he traced his finger on her pussy lips over her red panties, wet with her juices—"all it wanted was some relief, but you wouldn't say the words! So, I figure I'll show some solidarity. Take one for the team. Now, run along."

If he thought Persephone had looked furious before, she was now fuming. Taking in the way she smelled—like sex and frustration—he flashed her a wicked smile and dropped a quick kiss on her cheek. "And, baby, put some clothes on. Some of us still need to work."

*****

Of all the emails and notifications vying for his attention during his categorically useless meeting, which still showed no signs of ever concluding, Daniel chose to open the one message sent from his own kitchen. Well, he had no idea where Persephone was after she stormed out from his office, but if he had to put his money on it, she'd be in the kitchen looking for ice cream. A chuckle escaped him as he entertained himself with the image of Persephone in her red lingerie rummaging through the freezer.

He glanced at her message. "Are you on mute?"

As expected, Persephone got the reply instantly. "Yes."

A smile crept to her lips.

Smoothing down the curves of her body to iron out the dress shirt with the flat of her palms, Persephone glanced in the mirror one last time. She still couldn't quite believe that he'd sent her away on the brink of her orgasm, and she refused to take it well—not when she'd gone three days without one. She didn't think he had it in him to resist her in her bright red lingerie and with her freshly shaved pussy wet and ready, but even the best of the temptresses could miscalculate.

Wiping a tiny smudge of red lipstick away from the edge of her lips, Persephone fussed over her makeup before combing through her silken dark strands with her fingers and loosened the curls. It needed to be perfect.

And it was, because Daniel's expression was perfect when she strolled in his office.

From the other side of the computer screen, Daniel trained his eyes on her as she skillfully avoided his webcam and placed a cup of coffee on his desk. She had a distinct feeling that he didn't care what beverage was in the cup—she'd made sure that he wouldn't care.

She let him peruse and gawk before her fingertips found purchase on the firm collar and slid along either side of the placket, baring a V shape of her tanned skin between her breasts. Her dark hair contrasted with the crisp white shirt, which seemed to be glowing against her tan. Two buttons locked away her taut belly and everything below it, making him wonder.

Good. Let him go mad wondering. And so, like a lazy kitten, Persephone stretched her arms skyward, lifting the hem. Daniel leaned forward to peek at what was hidden by his desk, but it was too late. "Careful, your coworkers might think you're not paying attention during your very important meeting," she said, her teasing voice, tinted with a light European lilt, clear as gunshot against the incessant droning of his weekly meeting.

He fought to keep his expression neutral for his coworkers' sake—they didn't need to know his blood had rushed south—and reached for his phone, keeping it flat on the desk, evading detection by the attendees, as he'd done millions of times. "What the hell are you wearing?"

"Oh, this?" She smiled, slender finger drawing tiny circles on her bare skin. "You told me to put on some clothes."

He should've known. Daniel cast his gaze down at his phone to hide his eye roll. "What are you doing here in my office besides torturing me?"

She cut him a look, silently chastising him for mentioning the obvious, before locating the coffee mug on his desk to use that as an excuse. "To bring you coffee, of course. I made it decaf."

Daniel lifted his eyebrow at her, not buying her bullshit—she didn't even try to come up with a better excuse—and then he went back to this phone on the desk. "You brought me coffee. Task accomplished."

"I might need something else, too." A smart smile on her face, she toyed with her hair, continuing where they left off earlier, knowing that he'd pick up the hint and take the bait—he always did.

And he almost laughed. "Now, baby, tell me. What can you possibly need from me?"

Shrugging a nonchalant shoulder, she walked over to one of the cabinets and opened the drawer, seemingly retrieving something. And as quickly as she bent over at her waist—her shirt riding up just enough to reveal the creases under the cheeks of her butt—she straightened.

Daniel's gaze drifted to the upper right corner of his screen, wanting to get out of this nonsense meeting so he could move on to something more important. More delicious. "It's five minutes before your meeting is supposed to end." He heard Persephone say as she twirled around, heading toward the chaise lounge.

She put one foot in front of another with her hand balled up, swaying her hips. Then she said over her shoulders, "A lot can be achieved in five minutes."

His dick stirred in his jeans as a wave of excitement thrummed through him.

The velvet chaise lounge felt like a cloud on her bare ass when Persephone perched on the edge and crossed her legs. Slowly, her arm stretched out toward Daniel, and she unfurled her fingers to reveal a gilded bullet vibrator.

At the sight, his cock jerked so violently she might as well have shot him with a bullet because he suddenly understood her evil plan. She wanted to torture him, slowly and deliberately.

And as if she was enjoying the warmth of the sun on the beach, she laid the golden vibrator next to her and reclined into the seat. Rolling the too-long sleeve up her arms past her elbows, she readjusted the placket to show the curves underneath her breasts and let her hand hover above the two buttons.

Daniel was not sure what did him in: the way her wrist flicked and the buttons slid through the buttonholes as if the fabric were made of the finest silk, meeting no resistance; the way his dress shirt and her legs fell open at the same time, her tight nipples and the glistening pussy forming a beautiful inverted triangle, where he could feast; or it was the way she smiled, red lips curving, a gleam in her eye that pulled him in.

He was undone, nonetheless, pre-cum pouring, cock aching.

Basking in the power that she held over him, Persephone turned on the vibrator with a click, letting the humming chase away the quietness. With his gray gaze riveted to her, she gently placed the buzzing vibrator over the top of the slit against her dark curls, not quite touching her clit.

But it was more than she needed. The vibration radiated outward from her core, fulfilling and creating an emptiness in her. She let out a gaspy moan—relief and pleasure and want—as her hips rocked into the vibrator, seeking and claiming. Keeping her eyes on Daniel, whose chest heaved unevenly with his labored breathing, she massaged the length of her lips with the digit-sized vibrator, making Daniel wish it were the crown of his cock that slid sleekly along those pink folds. Her juices overflowed from between the plump lips, coating the opening with a glistening sheen, the vibrator sparkling with her desire.

Struggling to fixate her half-mast eyes on Daniel, Persephone chewed on her lower lip to delay her orgasm, holding on to her last bit of control, when his intense gray gaze coaxed and seduced as though he was tugging at an invisible thread attached to her clit, tempting her toward the edge. She reveled in his attention, loving the mounting tension that he was building in her core.

Her moans became tiny "yeses," streaming from between her caged lips, hot and sinful. Her left hand teased and pinched a beaded nipple; she needed more. His touch. His cock. She knew she couldn't hold off her release much longer—it must have been more than three goddamn minutes—and she knew Daniel knew it, too.

Because he nodded. Once. Sure and slow.

Eyes hooded from thick arousal and laden with a need—a compulsion—to see her come apart for him, he gave her his permission.

And that was when she let go. Persephone screamed, her inner muscles spasming, squeezing an emptiness, as her hips rode up wave after wave from the lounge. Tingles crept from the arch of her feet, spreading through her trembling body, warming her blood, drawing attention to a new need. She gulped for air for the giggles rolling out of her mouth before her lips curved into a small smile—the same smile that she'd give right after the first lick of ice cream—approving, wanting, but not yet content.

"Come over here," Daniel said suddenly, husky voice startling Persephone.

"I thought you were in a meeting."

He smirked. "It ended just before you started to unbutton." And thank God for that.

Realization dawned. Her eyes widened. He could've been fucking her all this time. "You asshole!"

"I prefer yours." Daniel grinned.

If she could throw the single pillow at him, she would, but her arms had turned into wet noodles from the first orgasm in three days.

"Now, baby, you've made your point. I am thoroughly and mercilessly tortured, and I can't take it anymore." Feigning remorse, he gestured to his crotch. "Come here and let me make it up to you."

Seeing no penance in his gray eyes—the teasing must have clouded it—Persephone kicked up her feet and swung them onto the lounge. "No. I think I'm rather comfortable here on this comfy chair. Thank you very much."

Daniel watched her, amusing himself with the view, enjoying the semi hard-on in his jeans.

Still flushed from the orgasm, Persephone busied herself with rearranging the single pillow that came with the lounge, laying it behind her back before moving it to cushion her head. She leaned her head into the pillow, but suddenly decided her hair needed to move out of the way, so she gathered it to sit on her left shoulder. She didn't, however, fuss with the oversized dress shirt that draped on her, letting it hang open in the center, so he could sometimes get a glimpse of a nipple or the dark curls tucked away by her creamy thighs as she rolled around on the lounge.

The picture was almost perfect, except—