Late Meeting Miss Carrigan?

The apartment was quiet when Ryan stepped inside, shutting the door behind him with a heavy sigh. Keys in the bowl, bag dropped without a second thought. His whole body moved like it was carrying the weight of the day. Shoulders tense. Shirt half untucked. Tie loosened. Drained. He didn't even bother with his shoes. Just raked a hand through his hair, sighing into the stillness of their home--

"Mr. Hale?"

His head snapped toward the hallway, like the sound of her voice physically grabbed him. And then he saw her. Autumn, stood at the edge of the living room, framed by the soft lamplight, and every molecule in his body snapped awake. Hair loose and falling in dark, tousled waves. Glasses low on her nose. Red lips. Heels tall and merciless. But it was what she wasn't wearing that hit him like a punch to the chest. A black lace corset cinched her waist. Garters clipped to sheer thigh-highs. Miles of exposed skin. No skirt. No blouse. No panties. Just lingerie and command. She smiled, slow and deliberate.

"You're late for our meeting."

Ryan just stared, breath gone, lips parted like he'd forgotten how to speak. He hadn't heard from her all day -- he'd been gone before sunrise, no texts, no hints from her -- and now this.

"I cleared my schedule," she said, stepping forward. "Prepared the agenda. Reviewed all my notes. I've been ready for hours, Mr. Hale."

He blinked, swaying slightly. "Autumn--what the--what are you--"

She cut him off with one sharp tilt of her chin. "It's Miss Carrigan during business hours."

And then she smirked.

"I've been dripping all day thinking about this. You have no idea how fucking turned on I've been, planning every inch of this for you. How many times I had to excuse myself at the gallery just to breathe."

Ryan exhaled like he'd been hit. "Fuck."

She circled him like prey, fingers trailing over his chest.

"I wore this corset under my suit," she whispered into his ear. "Thought about bending over in the boardroom while you sat across from me, imagining how I'd ride your cock later. Every second I was gone, I thought about how good you were going to feel inside me."

He groaned, loud and raw.

"I even thought about making you watch me touch myself before you earned it. But I've waited all damn day. And now?" She tugged on his belt, pulling him to her. "Now I want to feel that mouth beg."

She led him by his waistband toward the bedroom like she'd already decided what he was good for. The room was ready. Dim light. Candles glowing. Music low and seductive. It smelled like sex and intention.

"Sit," she ordered.

He dropped onto the edge of the bed, his cock already straining under his pants, looking like it hurt. She straddled him, taking her time, the corset pushing her tits up perfectly, heels clicking as she moved -- deliberate, divine, devastating.

"Keep your hands behind you," she murmured, lips brushing his jaw. "Or I stop. And if you come before I tell you, I'll edge you until you cry."

"Yes, Miss Carrigan," he panted, voice ragged.

She reached between them, sliding her hand under his pants and into his boxers. His cock twitched violently in her grip.

"God, you're so hard already," she breathed, rubbing her thumb over the head, spreading the pre-cum. "Is this for me? Or were you like this all day, too?"

He whimpered, hips twitching helplessly.

"I kept thinking about this moment," she whispered, "Me riding you slow while you fight not to come. You trying to be good. You always try so hard, don't you, baby?"

He nodded, jaw clenched tight. "I need you so bad."

She smirked.

"Then you'll take what I give you."

And without another word, she unbuttoned his pants enough to pull his cock out and sank down onto him -- slow, obscene, inch by inch -- until he was buried inside her and shaking.

"Jesus fucking Christ--"

She moaned too, but she didn't give him a second to recover. She rolled her hips with purpose, hard and deep and perfect. Her pace was brutal. Slow enough to tease, tight enough to torture.

"That feel good?" she panted. "You feel how fucking wet I am for you?"

Ryan's entire body trembled beneath her. "You're unreal--fuck--Autumn--"

Her hand slapped against his mouth. "Miss Carrigan."

He groaned into her palm.

"That's better," she purred, fucking herself on his cock like it was her reward for waiting. "You've been so stressed. Let me take it from you."

Her breath hitched as she clenched around him. "I've been wet for hours, Ryan. Soaking through this lace. Thinking about how full you make me. How deep. I came on my fingers during lunch thinking about this. But it wasn't enough."

She leaned closer, biting his jaw.

"I need you to wreck me, and I need to own you while you do it."

Ryan's control was shattering. He was holding back by a thread.

"I'm so fucking close," he gasped. "I can't--I can't hold it--"

"Then give it to me," she hissed, slamming down harder. "Come inside me, Mr. Hale. Make it fucking count."

He shouted, full-body release tearing through him. His hips jerked up into hers, cock pulsing as he spilled inside her in thick waves. She kept riding him through it, letting herself go just a few seconds later with a wild cry of her own, grinding down until she'd taken every drop, owned every inch. When she finally collapsed on top of him, both of them panting, covered in sweat, his hands still behind him like a good boy, she licked the shell of his ear.

"I'm not done with you."

He couldn't even speak.

"I planned two meetings tonight," she added, kissing down his jaw.

"Next one's at nine. And for that one?" Her voice went dark and wicked. "You're on your knees."

He nodded, hoarse and wrecked. "Yes, Miss Carrigan."

********

Ryan had barely moved. Still breathless. Still wrecked. Still sprawled across the bed with his shirt half open, belt undone, and her slick still on his cock. Autumn stood over him slowly, her heels clicking against the hardwood floor as she adjusted the curve of her garters, one strap teasingly slipping off before she clipped it back in place with practiced ease. Her hair had fallen messily down over her shoulders, lipstick smeared from where she'd bit her own lip. She looked even more dangerous than before.

"I hope you didn't think we were finished."

Ryan, barely able to catch his breath, swallowed hard.

"N-no, Miss Carrigan."

She stepped closer, circling the bed slowly, dragging one finger across the top of the headboard like she was outlining his fate.

"Good."

He heard the sound of her heels stop just in front of him. Then, her hand in his hair, tugging him gently until he sat up.

"Knees."

He dropped instantly, body obeying faster than his dazed brain could keep up. His palms pressed flat to the floor as he knelt before her at the edge of the bed, face level with her thighs, his eyes already locked on the wetness between them. Autumn smiled down at him, reaching for her glasses and pushing them up slightly on the bridge of her nose before she tangled both hands in his hair.

"I thought about this part more than anything," she murmured. "I wanted you on your knees. Tongue out. Needing to taste me like it's the only thing you care about."

Ryan moaned softly, mouth already open, breath hot against the inside of her thigh. She shifted forward just slightly, letting the wet heat between her legs press closer to his mouth.

"Know what I kept imagining?" she asked, voice low and molten. "Me grinding against your face while you begged to breathe. Me smearing lipstick on the skin of your cock while I used your mouth to come. Over and over."

He whimpered, eyes glassy. "Please, Miss Carrigan..."

She pulled the corset's ties just enough to loosen it and release her tits. He caught glimpse of her hard, peaked nipples and damn near lost it. She didn't hesitate. Just pressed herself forward until her cunt was flush against his mouth.

"That's it," she whispered, guiding his head with both hands. "Suck. I want to feel how desperate you are."

Ryan's tongue met her eagerly, licking a slow stripe from base to clit, groaning as she coated his lips, his chin, his whole mouth. His hands gripped her thighs, holding on for balance as she ground into him, soft curses spilling from her lips.

"Fuck, that's it... your mouth, your fucking mouth, Ryan..."

She rode his face without restraint -- rolling her hips against his tongue, panting like she'd waited days for this. And he let her, let her use him, let her rock against him again and again, his mouth locked around her clit while she shook from the pressure of it.

"I've been aching for this," she moaned. "I was soaked in that goddamn meeting, thinking about this tongue--what it would do to me when I finally let go."

Ryan sucked harder in response, and she cried out, fingers clutching at his hair as her thighs trembled.

"Don't stop. Don't fucking stop--"

She came with a strangled gasp, grinding down hard as her whole body seized, her thighs quaking around his face. She barely let him breathe, her orgasm washing over her in slow, shaking waves. When she finally let go, easing back with a shudder and a smug smile, Ryan's mouth was wet and shining with her. She cupped his jaw, dragging her thumb over his bottom lip.

"Look at you," she whispered. "You need me."

He nodded, ruined. "I do. I need everything you'll give me."

"Good." Her voice was low and final. "Because I'm not finished."

She reached down, grabbed him by the hair, and tilted his head up to look at her.

"Lie down, Mr. Hale. And don't even think about coming until I say so." Her voice like silk over steel.

Ryan obeyed instantly -- still trembling, still soaked in her. He backed up onto the bed, eyes wide and dazed, his chest rising and falling like he'd run for miles. His cock was hard again already, flushed dark, twitching against his stomach as he sprawled across the sheets. Autumn followed him slowly. Unhurried. Predatory. She stepped out of her heels one at a time with an elegant little kick -- not for comfort, but precision. She wanted full control, and she was about to take it. From the nightstand, she retrieved two lengths of soft black silk -- the ones she kept folded neatly just for occasions like this. Ryan's eyes widened slightly when he saw them.

"Oh yeah," she said, climbing onto the bed, straddling his waist, pressing her slick heat to his abdomen. "You're not touching me tonight. You just get to feel."

He moaned, already throbbing for her. She reached for his wrists, guiding them up above his head, and tied them carefully to the headboard -- one knot, then two. Tight. Firm. Her lips brushed his skin with each pass of the silk, making him tremble. When she sat back to admire him, he was completely at her mercy. And he loved it.

"Miss Carrigan..." he whispered, voice wrecked.

She dragged her nails slowly down his chest. "You gonna be good for me?"

"Yes. I'll be so good. Just--fuck, please..."

"Not yet." She gripped the base of his cock in her fist, slow and teasing. "This doesn't belong to you anymore, Mr. Hale. You gave it to me the second I walked into this room."

He whimpered, arching into her hand. She stroked him slowly -- long, lazy pulls, just enough pressure to make his hips stutter. His breath caught. His arms strained against the ties. She didn't let him get close. Instead, she shifted forward, lined him up, and sank down onto him with a moan that nearly broke his soul.

"Oh fuck--"

She was tight, soaked, warm -- and she took every inch of him like she deserved it. Her head dropped back, her hair wild and falling into her face, her hands braced on his chest as she started to move. Slow at first. Cruel. Grinding down into him with a rhythm that made him twitch inside her.

"Do you feel what you do to me?" she whispered, voice shaking with how good it felt. "Do you feel how fucking wet I am for you?"

"Yes," he gasped. "Jesus, Autumn--"

She slapped his chest lightly, breath catching.

"What's my name?"

"Miss Carrigan," he groaned. "Miss Carrigan, please."

She clenched around him at the sound of it. "God, I love that. Say it again."

"Miss Carrigan," he moaned. "You feel so good. You're gonna break me."

She leaned over him, dragging her tongue up the line of his throat.

"That's the idea."

Then she rode him -- full control, hard and deep, hips grinding in filthy circles as his hands tugged helplessly against the silk restraints. His eyes locked on her -- glasses slipping, cheeks flushed, tits bouncing over her corset, sweat running down her throat. He looked like he was losing his mind.

"You're mine," she whispered against his lips. "Say it."

"I'm yours," he panted. "Fuck, I'm yours, I'm yours, I'm yours."

She was so close -- she could feel it, the tension building between them, the unbearable heat curling low in her stomach. But she wasn't ready to give him release just yet. She slowed down again, torturously slow, grinding instead of bouncing, pulling a moan from deep in his chest.

"Beg me, Mr. Hale."

"Please--God, please let me come," he gasped. "I'm gonna die if you don't let me. You feel so good, I can't take it--"

She leaned in, lips brushing his.

"Then come for me."

And he did -- helpless and raw, hips jerking up into her as his whole body convulsed beneath her. He cried out, spilling hard, moaning her name like a prayer as she chased her own release on top of him, crying out, fingers digging into his chest. She collapsed against him, chest to chest, his wrists still tied above his head. They were both panting, soaked in sweat, skin buzzing, her heartbeat pressed tight against his.

After a long moment, she kissed the underside of his jaw and whispered,

"Meeting adjourned."