Page 9 of Illyria
He thrust himself forward suddenly, giving me what I needed so badly.
“Oh God, yes!” I moaned, as Jackson picked up rhythm, pumping his cock inside me. I lifted myself up and kissed him hard on the lips before I returned Jackson’s earlier favor and ripped open his shirt. Jackson’s chest was more muscular than I had given him credit for, and I enjoyed the feel of his firm torso as my hands explored his body while he continued fucking me.
Increasing his tempo, I bit down on his chest as a sheer animal nature took hold of me. I drew blood as my second climax of the afternoon washed through me. My pussy clenched his cock in quick waves as I came, as his hands gripped my hips hard, slamming his cock fast and deep into me. The added stimulation pushed Jackson over the edge. With one last thrust, Jackson shot his load inside of my cunt. I felt every pulse, every twitch as warm jets of cum filled the latex covering.
Breathing heavily as my legs shook, I moaned when his semi-flaccid cock slipped from my pussy as he removed and disposed of the condom.
His juices dripping from the head of his cock.
Smiling, I sat up. “Now that’s a beautiful sight.”
He chuckled, plopping down in my chair. “Glad you think so, sweetheart, because I came here to ask for a favor.”
Not bothering to cover up, I tilted my head. “I thought I just gave you a favor?”
He smiled. “Well, another favor then.”
“And what is the favor?”
“How do you feel about pretending to be my girlfriend for the weekend?”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because we get along and I know with you by my side, there won’t be any romantic problems.”
“What’s going on this weekend?”
“I have a meeting in New York City with a new client. This client is throwing a weekend party and has insisted I bring a date. Something about seating arrangements being even. We would stay at his country estate for the weekend. We’d leave this Friday and return Sunday afternoon.”
Fixing my bra, I stood and shimmied my shirt back into place. Pulling my shirt closed, I sighed when I noticed the missing buttons. There was no hope for my shirt, so I walked over to my personal closet and took out a clean one.
“Illyria?”
Saying nothing, I removed my ruined shirt and quickly put on the new one. Tucking it in, I ran my fingers through my hair and said, “I’m sorry Jackson, but I will never step foot in New York City again. Find someone else.”
“Is it the city in general or the man who broke your heart?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I muttered, walking back over to my desk, motioning to him to get out of my chair. He slowly did as I asked, tucking his now flaccid cock back into his pants.
“Lie to me all you want Illyria, but even I can see the walls you’ve erected. Look, what we have is fun. It’s easy and let’s face it, with both our schedules, neither of us has time for romance. All I’m asking is for a weekend in the country. You won’t even have to step foot in the city.”
“I’m sorry, Jackson. My answer is no,” I stated firmly, as my office line began to ring. “Nothing on earth could ever induce me enough to return to New York. Now, if you don’t mind, I need to get back to work.”
Jackson shook his head, getting to his feet. “You know, one of these days, Illyria, you are going to have to let someone in.”
“When hell freezes over.”
Watching Jackson leave, I sat down before picking up my office phone. “Illyria Valentinetti.”
“Hey beautiful, it’s Montana. Wanna explain to me why you are running skin and drugs out of the warehouse district near my turf?”
“What?” I gasped, sitting up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Montana. I’ve scheduled those warehouses for demolition in two weeks because I want those places torn down and used for scrap metal, so I can shove them up Maxim’s ass. The company I hired for security has assured me they are empty.”
Snapping my fingers to get Olivia’s attention, I cupped the phone and said, “Get me the file on the security firm I hired in New York and then call Renaldo Ramono and tell him I need a fucking favor.”
Putting the phone back at my ear, I heard Montana say, “Well, I’m standing on pier eighty-three looking right at warehouse nine and there are people moving in and out of it.”
“Shit,” I sighed, as Olivia hurriedly rushed in handing me a folder. Flipping it open, I scanned the documents. “Do what you have to, Montana. You have the backing of my family. I’m catching a flight and will be in the city by nightfall. Burn the place to the ground if you must, preferably with the Russian bastard in it. If not, I’ll find another way to get even with the fucking son of a bitch Russian asshat.”