Page 10 of Starving for Her

James

I’m burning for her.My core is tight, my cock is pulsing, but beyond that, I’m feeling something deep down for Layla that I almost can’t admit to myself—a feeling I was convinced I’d never feel again for anybody. If Clapton hadn’t already written a song about a girl with her name, he’d definitely have written one after meeting mine.

She’s the complete opposite of the girls I saw this evening; she’s strong, confident, self-made, independent and isn’t throwing herself at me. She’s trying her best to resist me, but I know she’ll give in eventually. But she’s making me work for it—something I haven’t had to do in a long time.

But as any self-made man will tell you, we love a challenge. And I already know, I’d go to the ends of the earth for this girl.

The look in her eyes when I pulled her shirt off…I can just see what her orgasm face will be like now as I stuff her tight pussy with my thick cock. All I want to do is please her. She’s inexperienced; I can tell. And I’m ready to teach her everything I know.

As a CEO and businessman, you have to have a vision for your company—for your future. And as I watch the beautiful girl in front of me basting a steak with butter, a hint of perfect side-boob peeking out from her apron, I can see the vision for my future with perfect clarity.

Her friend seemed nice enough, but it was obvious that she was here hoping to cash in. I wouldn’t put it past her to try and convince Layla here to have a threesome with me. Layla wouldn’t do it, though. I know that about her. I don’t know how, but I do. Hell, I wouldn’t do that. I’d never share Layla, not even with a girl.

“That looks so good,” I tell her, and I don’t mean the steak. She flits her eyes up to me nervously and smiles. The skill with which she moves her hands makes me wonder what else she’d be able to do with them. Even if she doesn’t know how to use them on me, I’ll teach her.

I walk around the counter to her side and take in her bare back, hidden only by the thin line of string she used to tie the apron on. Back dimples…I see them and lick my lips as I start to salivate. I follow her sensuous lines down to her perky little butt. She may be cooking steak, but that’s not what I want a bite of right now.

Her spoon clinks against the pan as I walk up beside her and lean on the counter, letting my hand gently slide down her back, tracing her lines. She quivers and looks down, but I see the rose on her cheeks and delicately play my fingertips across her dimples. My bulge is about to burst through my pants, but I can’t just jump on this girl. She’s not ready for that. I have to break her in slowly…

…gently.

“Is…this part of the test?” she asks, her voice barely a whisper. “To see if I can cook while you distract me?”

“Oh, this isn’t a distraction, gorgeous,” I smirk. “This is.”

I step behind her and grab her ass with both hands and squeeze. Fuck, it’s perfect! She arches back against me and I press my bulge to her so she can know precisely what I’m feeling for her and what I have in store. I grab and spread her, but she just keeps basting that steak like she’s minding her own business.

“You have good hands,” I whisper in her ear. “I can tell.”

Her breath is heavy as she opens her mouth. I know her heart is racing.

“You—you learn to, when you train to be a chef…”

“I may not know how to cook,” I tell her as I slip my fingertips in the hem of her pants. “But I know how to use my fingers.”

Quickly, I slide my left hand down the back of her pants. She’s not wearing any panties. Fuck! Her skin is smooth and soft as I spread her open and reach all the way down and find her pussy. When I feel how wet she is, I almost lose it.

“Mr. Russell—” she whimpers.

“I told you,” I growl in her ear. “Call me James.”

I slip a finger inside her and feel her warmth, her wetness. Even if she wants to pretend that she’s not interested, she can’t hide her arousal from me. Using my other hand, I pull her close to me and close my eyes as I give myself over to the exploration of her body. Her scent fills my lungs, and I don’t mean her perfume; she isn’t wearing any.

I can smell a hint of shampoo, but mostly I just smell her. Her scent ignites a primal lust inside me, and I drag my open lips across the back of her neck as I play with her pussy. The way she’s clenched down on my finger confirms what I already knew; Layla is a virgin.

Her pussy is tight, and I’m going to ruin it.

I tug her pants down and expose everything to me. There’s a lightly trimmed tuft of hair covering her gorgeous lips. That’s going to have to go.

She gasps as I bury my face between her thighs and drag my tongue from her clit to her hole, the wetness of her slit coating my lips as I go. I hear her click the gas off and shove the pan out of the way as she braces herself against the countertop. I lick hungrily, like a starving man, giving in fully to my desires.

“Mr. Russell—I don’t think we should…” her voice trails off as I apply pressure to her clit. Her body shudders, but as I rub the tip of my tongue around her cute little pleasure button, I feel the uncomfortable grind of her little pubic hairs. I slowly get to my feet, letting my teeth drag up the soft skin of her ass, sniffing her body until I reach her neck. My hands play between her thighs, feeling the wetness.

“You’re a virgin,” I tell her. It’s not even a question. I feel her go tense against me.

“I—”

“It’s okay,” I whisper. “I like it. Don’t be ashamed. I’m going to be the one to claim you, and by the time I’m done, you’ll be crying my name through tears of pleasure.”