Dirty Sweet Valentine Read online

  With a shiver, I pushed the swinging door into the kitchen and flipped the light off and on several times before remembering that most of the office’s lighting was shut off when the alarm was set. I groaned, wishing I’d brought my cell phone with me from my office. I debated for several seconds about returning to get it before deciding I was too lazy. Instead, I pushed the swinging door open, using the dim light it let in to run to the refrigerator before the door shut again.

  Unfortunately, a brief scan of the contents of the fridge said it had been cleaned out recently. I found nothing edible beyond a jar of maraschino cherries, sardines, and several cans of tomato juice. I’d have to look through Ellen’s menus for something. Or, at this point, I might as well go home and eat something there, though with transportation the way it was in the city, that would mean almost another hour with a grumbling stomach.

  With another groan, I slammed the fridge, forgetting that I’d be left in the dark when the light shut off with it closed.

  Now I had to get back to the kitchen door in the pitch-black dark.

  This night just gets better and better.

  I stumbled my way toward the door, holding onto the counter until I got to the wall, then used that to get back to where I’d come in. It was a relief to push the door back into the dimly lit hallway, despite coming up empty-handed on my mission.

  As immediately as the relief came, it vanished when a rustle came from somewhere down the hallway in the direction of the stairwell.

  I froze, listening. Nothing.

  Then I heard it again.

  The hair stood up on the back of my neck. I was alone and unarmed. Should I go back into the kitchen and try to find a knife? It would take too long in the dark.

  Besides, the alarm was set and there was no way anyone could be in the office. I was imagining things, turning innocent noises into nonexistent threats.

  But as I started down the hallway, I heard the sound again.

  I stopped, straining my ears. It could be the cleaning crew, though they weren’t due to arrive for another couple of hours. Very few employees had the alarm code, and even fewer would use it at this time of night. Was it possible that someone hacked their way in?

  No. Very unlikely. They’d have to hack the whole building’s security system to get past the guards, and that was even less likely.

  Oh, that’s who it probably was—the security guard. Donovan had said he’d tell them to keep an eye on me.

  Reassured by my reasoning, I set out down the hall again. “Hello?” I called out, not wanting to startle the guard when I wasn’t where expected. “Anybody there?”

  When nobody answered, goosebumps erupted down my arms.

  I refused to be scared of nothing, though, so instead of cowering I marched toward the stairs to look around.

  No one was there.

  The door to the stairway was still closed. I reached for the handle but didn’t turn it. If it was the guard, he’d have a key to open the door and a passcode for the alarm. If it wasn’t the guard and the alarm was still on, opening it would set it off. Which might be a good thing if whoever might be on the other side was a danger.

  But most likely there was no one on the other side, and then the alarm would be a hassle.

  I put my ear to the door and listened.

  Nothing. It was a thick concrete door, though. What did I expect to hear?

  This whole thing was silly, anyway. The alarm was on, the sound had stopped, and I was getting myself worked up over nothing.

  Convinced I had an overactive imagination, I walked toward the beckoning light of my office.

  I had almost made it to Ellen’s desk before the rustle returned as someone pounced and grabbed me from behind. A gloved hand covered my mouth before I could even think of letting out a scream.

  Three

  “This will be easier on you if you don’t struggle.”

  The voice was a low, harsh whisper in my ear, unrecognizable without its tone. I could feel fabric where the man’s cheek met mine. He was probably wearing a ski mask.

  I’d been in this position before. Not once, but twice. Been caught alone with a man who wanted to defile me without my consent. The terror was like pain—it was hard to remember how bad it was unless I was in it, scared and shaking, my heart galloping against my chest.

  When I wasn’t actually in the clenches of a bad man, that kind of fear aroused me. It confused me to want the fantasy of it like I did, when I knew how horrific the reality was.

  The usual panic settled on me now, causing my palms to sweat and my pulse to skyrocket, but, while the situation was horrifying, I somehow felt...safe?

  With nothing to prove my gut instinct, the wisest thing to do was fight, and so I did, struggling against the tight, familiar grip. I jerked to the right, then quickly swerved left and down. And that’s when I saw his shoes—brown leather Berlutis.

  Donovan.

  Dismay became excitement. Fear became elation. Adrenaline still coursed through my veins, but now it was powered by exhilaration. Donovan was playing a game, a game I liked very much. Audrey was right—he hadn’t neglected Valentine’s Day.

  And he knew exactly the kind of gift I’d like best.

  Strangely, once I knew the man was Donovan, my fight began in earnest. I knew he wouldn’t hurt me for struggling the way a stranger might. He’d fight back, but he wouldn’t really hurt me. He’d just get more turned on.

  Abruptly, I lodged my right elbow back into his sternum. His hand dropped from my mouth as he bent over, letting out a gasp that sounded more full of irritation than pain. With one side of my body free, I veered left, using the momentum to try to escape the grasp of his other hand.

  It worked. I was free, and I ran toward my office. I could shut him out and lock the door if I made it inside without him catching me.

  Of course, I wanted to be caught. But I didn’t have to let him. He’d get me in the end, no matter what.

  In fact, I didn’t make it more than three steps before he launched forward and grabbed at my dress. I didn’t care if it tore, and I pulled against his grip, but the fabric was too strong, and he was easily able to hold on. As soon as I realized it, I spun in toward him, hoping to catch him off guard with my sudden change of movement as I lifted my hand to strike him across the face.

  He was too quick. He caught my hand in the air. His other hand let go of my dress and grabbed my other wrist before I could hit him from that angle. I lifted my knee instead, aiming nowhere in particular, using whatever means I had to defend myself. He raised his own knee across his pelvis, just in time to block mine, then he pushed it forward and into me, tackling me to the ground underneath him.

  “Too easy,” Donovan said, this time with his full voice, and if I hadn’t known it was him before this, I certainly did now.

  The victory in his tone fueled another burst of energy. With a hard yank, I managed to get one hand free. I used it to push the base of my palm hard against his jaw. Automatically, he lifted up, and it was just enough for me to be able to turn and get out from underneath him.

  But then I was on my side. From there, he wrenched my captured hand behind my back with a growl, and when he caught the other again, he yanked it to my back as well. I could hear his rapid breaths as he held me there, pinned using one hand and his knee.

  After several seconds of nothing, I glanced over my shoulder to see he was looking around the room. I discovered what he was looking for a moment later when he used his free hand to tug sharply at the cord that led from the wall to the phone on Ellen’s desk. The wall end came out easily. When he pulled the other end, the entire phone came, skidding across the desk before it banged to the ground where he could easily drag it close enough to maneuver the cord out from its socket.

  Once he had the cord free, he wrapped it several times around my wrists until they were bound, then he flipped me over onto my back. Pinning me down with his hips, he held himself above me, his arms extended. “Get it out of your s
ystem?”

  I could tell he was smirking, even with a mask over his face. “Fuck you.”

  “I’m planning to fuck you, actually.”

  God, yes.

  “No, please. Please. Please, don’t.” I’d never tried begging before when we’d played this.

  His eyes darkened and his breaths shallowed. His pelvis was pressed flush to mine so I could feel every inch of the solid column of flesh hidden under his clothes. It seemed to grow thicker with my pleading. My pussy ached in response. I was wet with arousal, my clit buzzing as erotic organ called out to erotic organ, a primal mating song.

  Why did I get off on this so much? The fantasy, the fight, the force, the fuck. It was my favorite way to make love, and as crazy as it seemed to say that, I knew that was exactly what this was for him too—making love. Using our physical bodies to express an emotion we both felt in abundance for the other. While I could never know the whys of what made my libido light up, I did know for certain that he and I were meant to be.

  “While your begging is quite lovely, I’m not going to change my plans. I can smell your cunt from here, and I can already tell it’s too sweet to pass up.” He pushed himself up to a kneeling position and took off his gloves before undoing his belt. He’d changed to jeans, I noticed now, paired with the rust button-down mock turtleneck sweater I’d given him for Christmas. He was as enticing in casual as he was dressed up.

  Involuntarily, my tongue flicked out along my bottom lip.

  You’re supposed to not want this, I reminded myself.

  “I’ll scream,” I said when he lifted his ass up to pull his jeans and underwear down. Fuck, he was beautiful like that—dressed completely except for that swollen rod of pleasure. “I’ll do it. I’ll scream at the top of my lungs.”

  He let out my favorite chuckle, the one that vibrated low in his throat and made a shiver roll through my body. “Go ahead. You think anyone can hear us up here? They can’t.”

  Clutching the torso of my dress with both hands, he pulled in opposite directions, tearing the fabric at the buttons, and exposing the lacy red bra I’d bought for the holiday.

  I hadn’t imagined it would be revealed quite like this. Obviously, I needed a better imagination because this was the best way to show off the new item.

  His eyes glazed as he traced over my spiked nipples through the material. It was too gentle of a touch that had me writhing and shaking. Pure torture of the best kind.

  When he roughly pulled down the cups of the bra so he could palm my breasts, I screamed. Loud and with gusto.

  I couldn’t yell like that at our apartment. Someone would actually come to help, but he was right about no one being able to hear us at the office—the security guards were stationed too far away and wouldn’t come to the floor unless the alarm went off—and though my insides were shouting something more like Holy hell I am so turned on right now, the words that I let out were, “Help me! Somebody help me!”

  He pinched my nipples hard in reply, prompting my back to arch up. I let out another scream.

  “No one will hear you, but that’s definitely annoying,” he said after several seconds of shrill howling. “Good thing I know just how to shut you up.”

  He crawled up my body until he was sitting over my face, the head of his cock poised at my lips. “Suck it,” he said. “No teeth or you’ll regret it.”

  My mouth watered, wanting him. But I forced my lips together in refusal.

  “Open your mouth and suck it.” He was more demanding this time, the intensity making my pussy clench in awe.

  Still, I shook my head and kept my mouth shut tight.

  Swiftly, he climbed off of me. Still on his knees, he dragged me to the front of Ellen’s desk. He sat there, his back against the desk with his legs spread apart so that he could maneuver me in between them. In this position, he had full control of my head. One sharp pull of my hair, and my mouth fell open on a yelp, cutting off as he shoved his cock forcefully between my lips.

  “We could have done this the easy way,” he said as he forced my head up and down over him. “I’m very happy you chose this way instead.”

  Despite the sting at my scalp and not being able to catch a full breath, I was too. He’d never fucked my mouth so aggressively, his tip hitting the back of my throat on each stroke, sometimes reaching farther when he pushed his hips up so I would take him deep. My eyes began to water. I gagged more than once. Several times. I was suddenly grateful that I hadn’t found anything to eat in the kitchen because I wasn’t sure I would have been able to keep it down.

  And still, I was pretty sure I was as close to orgasm as he was.

  “I knew your mouth was good for something besides squealing.” His words came out in breathy grunts. “Does your cunt feel as tight as your throat? Should we find out?”

  I moaned, a muffled sound that could have been a cry of protest or a cry of longing. He shuddered as the sound vibrated over his cock, causing him to abruptly pull out.

  “I’ll take that as a yes. But if it was a no, that’s fun too.” He stood, and when I refused to stand with him, he picked me up and laid me on top of Ellen’s desk.

  I kicked and thrashed, but that only caused my dress to rip more as he worked his hands up my skirt. The lace thong I’d worn was even easier for him to get through, coming apart with one hard yank. He took a moment to sniff them, the erotic sight making me more aroused before he stuffed the flimsy ball of material in my mouth.

  I lifted my head to spit them out, but he was quicker. He shoved my head back down with one hand while the other pulled a strip of tape off Ellen’s dispenser. He placed two over my mouth to hold the panties in, then, with his hands gripping my hips, he pulled me to the edge of the desk and positioned himself at my weeping pussy.

  Greediness bloomed inside me. My body throbbed with the anticipation of his cock, and still, I doled out one last attempt to resist, knowing that the longer I fought him off, the more glorious his intrusion would be. My knees pressed tight together, I pushed at his chest with the heels of my feet, my shoes lost earlier in our struggle.

  It was a valiant effort, earning me a primal roar that seemed to originate from deep inside Donovan as he pushed my knees apart with his elbows. Then, grabbing my ankles and bending my legs into my chest so that I couldn’t wield them as weapons, he once again notched his cock at my entrance and drove all the way in with one solid thrust.

  The foreplay was over. He’d reached his destination, and now the fucking would begin.

  Four

  As soon as he was inside me, my body exploded in pleasure. The orgasm had built as we’d wrestled, building further when he’d torn my dress, further still when he’d fucked my mouth. Each section of our play escalating my arousal like movements in a triumphant symphony, and now, at the climax, I surrendered to the beauty of the song.

  Rainbowed stars sparked in front of my eyes as I convulsed, every part of me lit up with bliss. Was there any higher ecstasy than this? Than being at the receiving end of Donovan’s wicked, hammering brutality? If there was, I didn’t care to know. There was no other kind of love I wanted to encounter than his.

  When my vision cleared, I looked up at him in a daze. He was a portrait of stunning vulgarity—a masked man taking whatever he pleased, using my body in whatever way he saw fit. My arms ached from their wrenched position behind my back, the discomfort a satisfactory addition to the lewdity. As he battered into me in steady rhythmic jabs, the sound of our thighs slapped underscoring the erotic scene.

  Another climax stirred, slowly. Too slowly.

  In frustration, I began to squirm, needing more, needing something. Needing, needing, needing. My hands wriggled against their binding, and with enough twisting and jerking, they got free. I pulled them from behind me, and reached one up for Donovan’s mask, wanting it gone, wanting to see his face contort with his exertion.

  As soon as it was in the air, though, he caught it. He seized the other as well and pinned them over m
y head, pressing his body inward to hold my legs down with his chest.

  The shift in position opened me up wider and now his pelvis hit against my clit, the friction giving me just what I needed. My orgasm undulated through me in gaping ripples, each wave yawning with ecstasy that made my breath hitch and my skin burn.

  “Fuck,” Donovan grunted as I clamped down on his cock. “You tried to not want this, but your cunt has me gripped like it never wants to let me go. Such a filthy, greedy girl, aren’t you?”

  His cock twitched inside me, his thrusts slowed. Then he grated out a low rumble, his hips stuttering against my pussy as he emptied himself inside me. Long seconds passed before he’d finished coming. When he was finally done, he collapsed on top of me, his chest heaving in near rhythm with mine.

  When he’d caught his breath, he stood and pulled me to a sitting position so he could remove the tape and panties from my mouth. He took off his mask next and then cradled my face in his hands. “How are you?”

  “Really, really good.” My body felt limp, but it hummed and tingled in complete satiation.

  He studied my features, as if he wasn’t ready to accept my answer until he’d done his own inspection. Satisfied with his findings, he smiled. “Good. Me too.”

  He leaned in, his lips skimming against mine once before he took full possession of my mouth, his tongue tasting me in deep, proprietary licks. I opened up completely for him, letting him take my mouth as aggressively as he’d taken my cunt. Wrapping one arm around his neck and another in his sweater, I pulled myself closer, wanting to show my gratitude as explicitly as possible.

  It was a pretty thorough make-out session, and my lips were swollen and numb when he reluctantly broke away. “You're making me hard again.”

  “Is that a problem?”

  “Considering the cleaning crew will be here soon? Yes.”