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- - -
A week had passed. The sting of her choice had yet to fade.
And she still had to attend a business meeting in four hours.
"What did you do?"
The reflection in the mirror did not respond. Lara stared, stared, stared into the face of a woman who might have finally let things go too far
Lara Croft, always the daredevil. Always pushing her luck. Always going right to the edge. To hell with laws, with boundaries, as long as she got what she wanted
Ten inches of cock down her throat. Hot, bloated balls slapping against her chin. Mallory Simon's teenage son shooting his load down her gullet.
She'd swallowed it all. Lara remembered gulped down every drop of Lucas' cum. She could still feel how thick it felt sliding down her throat, how warm it had been sloshing over her tongue, how salty it had tasted.
The woman in the mirror now had a blush creeping across her face. Lara scowled and turned away.
"Fucking hell, Lara. What did you do?"
So there she was. Pacing, pacing up and down the length of her bathroom, pinching the bridge of her nose, rubbing her temples, as if those performative gestures of frustration could wind back time and make her un-suck that young man's cock. That fat, veiny, beautiful-
Lara threw up her hands as a string of muttered curses flowed from her lips. She stormed over to the shower stall, wrenching the door open, and jerked the handle hard one way. She wanted it hot. Not warm, hot. Hot enough to steam. Hot enough to take her mind elsewhere. Anywhere but that.
The bathroom was filled with the patter of rain on tile. Water gurgled down the drain, flowing, flowing, flowing hot.
Lara held her hand under the spray. The heat stung, just as she wanted. Soon it became tolerable. When the air began to thicken with steam, she stepped into that seething shower.
"Damn…" Lara planted her hands on the tile wall, letting all that heat pour over her. It poured over her hair, over her face, down her chest and back, drowning her thoughts away.
For a short time, at least. She had hoped the scalding water would empty her mind, but even as the liquid heat sloshed over her skin, slivers of that night kept needling their way into her thoughts.
It was little things at first. The chattering of partygoers, faint at the edge of her hearing. The smells of all those colognes and perfumes - the pleasant sting of bubbling champagne. The feel of carpet against her knees-
Lara shook her head, drops of water dripping from her nose, her lips, her chin. She brought her hands to her face again, fingers threading back through her drenched hair. The heat kept pouring. It was seeping through her skin now.
More spikes of memory. Too many to stave off. They pierced on through, burning red splinters. Lara was back in her study - her father's study - back on her knees, with that big, big cock in her face.
"Fuck." Lara hissed as she stepped back out of the steaming rain. Not enough room in the stall to get away completely. The water pelted her front now, falling down her breasts and her thighs. Only then did she realize her nipples were hard. They'd been hard. "Fuck."
She could still smell him. That musk had seared itself into her memory. His odor had been strong and thick - not nice, not by any means. But… she remembered the tremble that went through her belly when she took her first whiff. She remembered the lightness that fluttered in her chest. She remembered how the stink of cock and balls had pushed her right to the edge of dizziness.
All that from eighteen-year-old cock.
Lara kept her breathing steady. She let her back hit the tile wall. The shock of cold brought back at least a small semblance of sanity. Regret weighed down her gut like a stone, but something else was coiling in there along with it. Something slimy and warm. Lara hugged her arms close to her belly, trying to smother the heat that was growing there.
The memories were a flood now, rushing through her mindscape like the water raining over her body. Sensations shot ghosted through her nerves - how it felt to have her lips spread around the girth of Lucas' shaft, the wetness of the drool gathered in her mouth to slick up in the cock pushing into her throat. She remembered the taste of him, the way the flavor of flesh and sweat and precum danced upon her tongue.
A sharpness at her nipple snapped Lara's eyes open. When she looked down, she saw it was her own fingers pinched around it. Her other hand hovered at her lower belly, fingertips drifting ever so closer to her mound.
Lara released the little nub, breathing more heavily now. Yet her hand never retreated from her breast. The pressing of her fingers into the soft flesh was soothing. Soothing and more. The weight in her belly had become an ache, deep and growing stronger. It was a sweet sort of ache.
"Fuck…" The word forced its way up Lara's throat.
Ten inches. The words rang in Lara's head. The sight still burned clear as well. She remembered the way it twitched, how the cockhead's slit shined with trickling jism. The phantom prick was tapping against her lips. Now she could taste the spunk, salty, sticky, and thick. It pushed into her mouth,spurting over her tongue all over again.
The snake twisting in her belly was wild now, thrashing through her innards. Maddening.
A hiss rang out as Lara sucked air through her teeth. A blitz of sensation between her thighs, white hot. Hotter than the shower. Hotter than the steam. Each brush of her fingers along her slit was another pulse in her core. It was wrong. Dirty. Yet the sweetness was inescapable.
She wasn't doing this. She couldn't do this. The fingers between her legs continued to stroke and probe, and the hand upon her breasts went on to grope and knead and pinch at her tits.
Lara's fingers closed on her nipple again, harder than before. Squeezing it between her thumb and pointer. She imagined it was Lucas biting down. It stung so fucking good.
A moan shook in her throat. The pleasure shamed her.
How the hell was she going to face Mallory?
- - -
Just like her father, Lara wasn't bred for boardrooms. The environment too neat, the air too crisp, the ambience too sterile. Yet it was necessary suffering for her lifestyle. Between the research and the planning and the sheer amount of resources for it all, Lara's expeditions cut deep into her pockets. Lara would've been a piss poor heiress to let her passion for adventuring drag the family name into bankruptcy.
She was a Croft. A woman made for the grit and grime. Though if she wanted to keep getting her hands dirty, she'd need to get them clean every now and then too.
Clean, manicured, and painted.
Tapping her pale, pink nails against the table surface, Lara's eyes drifted towards the mounted screen on the far wall. Just past lunch, the time read.
The meeting was winding down, thank God. Men and women and sharp professional suits were shuffling out of their chairs and shaking hands, exchanging stale pleasantries and whatnot. Some were here own people, representatives for Croft Holdings, the rest were from other interested parties. Parties such as Simon International.
Two hours of deliberations and they had closed on full funding for a venture into the wilds of Siberia. Lara should have been ecstatic. The best she could manage was a mask of mild satisfaction. A miracle it was keeping herself composed in the presence of Mallory Simon. Perhaps if the adventuring ever lost its appeal, Lara could have a go at being an actress.
"I know that look." Mallory said as she came up to offer her hand. The sharp-dressed blonde wore a sly grin. Too sly for Lara's liking. "You're itching to get out there already aren't you?"
Relief blossomed in Lara's gut. She didn't let it show.
"That's putting it lightly. But first comes planning. So much planning." Lara took Mallory's hand, shaking it. There was something about it that felt like a twisted joke. The next word struggled to come out. "Thank you."
Yes, thank you for footing the bill on my very expensive hobby, Mallory. I'm almost as grateful for your money as I was for your son's fat, fucking cock in my throat.
"Every time you come back from these trips, you rewrite the history books. I should be thanking you for letting my company be a part of it."
The sincerity stung. There was the faintest flicker across Lara's face. She hoped Mallory did didn't catch it
"Well, you're always welcome to join me." Lara didn't know why she made that offer. Guilt bubbling up, perhaps? Lara winced inwardly, already thinking of how awkward such a venture would be. Having to spend all that time desperate to think of anything other than her own lapse in responsibility.
Thankfully, Mallory was quick to shake her head. The older woman gave a light, scoffing laugh.
"Oh no, I can barely handle the cold at a ski resort. I'm just not built for the outdoors. Especially when the outdoors can kill me."
"The danger is part of the fun." Somehow, Lara had found it in herself to tease.
"The fun is all yours." Mallory patted Lara on the arm. Though when she made to step away, she paused. A speculative look crossed her face.
"What?" Lara pressed. A bit of worry crept into her voice. "Is something wrong?"
Fear flashed cold up Lara's back. Does she know…?
"No. Nothing wrong. Just… You might try asking my son, Lucas. Not to take him to Siberia, of course. But maybe in the future… A smaller expedition? Safer, too. He'd be absolutely thrilled."
I'm sure he would be, Mal.
Somehow - somehow - Lara managed to keep a straight face. The twisting and coiling from her morning shower was back, turning her belly into knots, tight and thick.
"I… I'd have to think about it." Lara finally answered. It was a testament to her nerves that she was able to flash a friendly smile. "But never say never. So… lunch?"
- - -
Mallory couldn't do lunch. Whether it was chance or the will of some higher power, Lara was grateful for it. The expedition meeting had been grueling enough.
She didn't know why she lingered in the boardroom. Her people and Mallory's people had all gone. Maybe it was the quiet. Maybe it was the calm of the London skyline beyond the floor-to-ceiling glass.
Lara simply stood there, looking out over the city, wondering how she let herself get tangled up in this mess of perversion.
It hadn't been a moment of weakness. It couldn't have been. Lara refused to even consider that. The idea that all it took to get Lara Croft to throw away her decency was a nice, fat cock. Nonsense, she told herself. Absolute rubbish.
That was the true sting though, wasn't it? There had been no coercion, no threats. Lucas didn't force her to do anything - he certainly didn't put her on her knees. She did that all on her own.
Her choice. Her fault.
A shaky sigh blew from her mouth. Suddenly, it felt like the perfect time to leave.
It was a good thing for Lara that the Simon offices were so sparse - hardly anybody between her and the elevators.
Her pace was brisk as she slipped into the empty hall. Walking, walking, walking… Until a familiar, cock voice rose up behind her. Lara stopped dead.
"Looking sharp, Ms. Croft. Then again, you'd look damn good in anything."
Not quite empty, Lara bemoaned. She didn't turn to face him immediately. For a time she remained rooted to that spot, silently cursing her sudden roll of astronomically bad luck. Her steel-grey attire, blazer, blouse, pencil skirt, even her stockings - all suddenly feeling just a bit too snug.
Slowly, calmly, Lara turned to face her unwanted admirer. She kept her expression neutral, flat - she didn't want to hand him the satisfaction of her looking flustered. The most Lucas Simon was getting from her now was a stony face and cold eyes.
"What are you doing here?" She asked in an even voice. There was a faint sharpness, though.
It did not bother Mallory's son. The young man still wore that cocky grin as he approached, hands in his pockets. All relaxed, casual-like. Maddening.
"You had a meeting with my mom, didn't you? I thought I'd tag along, get a look around the London offices."
Indeed, Lucas was dressed for the part. Smart Casual style that had him in dark khaki Chinos and a fitted, navy button-up. It was a good look for him, admittedly, completed by his brown loafers and rolled-up sleeves. The fabric was snug around his forearms, showing how toned they were, hinting at the lean muscle under those clothes- Lara snapped such thoughts away.
"I'm sure corporate business is positively captivating for a teenager." She almost bit out that last word. Mostly as a reminder to herself.
Lucas' dry chuckle did not help. At all.
"It's boring as hell. But I heard you'd be here." He told her. Was it shamelessness or daring that had him looking her over then?
Lara wanted to groan. She settled for a long, tired sigh. This was all her own damned fault. All because she'd felt bored.
Lucas was still inching closer, still drinking in her figure. He was admiring her legs now, no doubt loving the way her pencil skirt wrapped about her thighs and hips. Lara held up a hand, pointedly putting it between him and herself.
"Alright. Let's hit the breaks here." Her tone was curt. Her gaze was even sharper. "You and I. We're not doing smalltalk. We're not doing… anything."
He gave a slight tilt of his head, one brow going up.
"Oh?"
"Listen, Lucas. I don't know what you think this is…" Lara gestured back and forth emphatically between them. "But it's done. It's over. Hell, it never bloody started!"
"A guy can't say 'hi' to his idol?"
Lucas didn't even make an attempt to sound innocent there. And along with that damned shine in his eye…
Fury, frustration, vexation, and so many other feelings flared up hot in Lara's chest. Suddenly she had him by the arm, guiding him along until they were out of the hall and into a little corner alcove between the office pens and the emergency stairwell. Away from potential onlookers. Just the two of them.
"Stop." She hissed, still clutching his forearm. He was firm under her fingers. Hardly any give. Not as muscled as Cowboy had been, but pleasing still- "Please, stop."
Lara didn't know if that was meant for Lucas or for herself. Her heart was thumping now, beating so hard she could feel the ringing between her ears. She looked the younger man in the eye and hoped he would glimpse at least some of the severity that shocked so cold inside her. She was hoping for a miracle.
"What we did at the party… What I did… was a mistake. I… It can never happen again. Do you understand?" She was pleading by the end.
Lucas was unmoved. "It didn't feel like a mistake. I don't remember any complaining afterward. From either of us."
Now he had an edge to his voice. His wasn't as sharp as hers, but it was cutting still… and red hot.
"Lucas…" Lara wanted to scream. She released his arm, both hands coming to her face again. Fingers pressing into her cheeks, her chin. "Fuck's sake."
"I still feel it, you know. That's how good it was. My body telling me it needs another taste." He admitted. Fire behind those eyes as he grinned. "You feel it, too?"
"No." She snapped back. "I don't."
Lucas snorted. His smirk was even more maddening now. And the way his eyes blazed… like he'd already won.
"Liar."
"And just who the hell do you think you are?" Lara fumed, giving his shoulder a sharp shove. It still felt wholly pathetic, the effort to keep her voice down. "What is this fucking arrogance, huh? Swaggering around here like some hotshot knob!"
"You know exactly what it is and where it comes from." Lucas moved in close, so close Lara could feel his breath warm on her own lips. And his groin… hovering dangerously close to her core. She had to wonder then if he was already hard. "I'm the man who got Lara Croft on her knees."
Lara didn't push him away. Instead she scoffed in his face.
"Pfft. A man? You?"
"What, you're still not convinced? After all the work you put in with that pretty mouth? What's it gonna take then?"
His hands were at her waist, pressing fire through the fabric. Indeed, her clothes felt far, far too snug.
Lara put aside the heat brewing in her core. Or tried to. There was a piece of her that still clung to reason. She moved Lucas' hands away from her. Gently.
"Lucas. Stop." She whispered. The edge had all but gone from her voice. Her eyes darted about, on the lookout. Not for help. For intruders.
"If you wanted me to stop, you'd make me stop." Lucas shot back, playing with one of the buttons on her blouse.
She should have slapped him right then. Should have slugged him good. Instead she was kissing him. Did he start that or did she? Her heart was pounding too hard for her to care.
His tongue swiped against her, sending bliss jolting through her belly. It was wrong, though. Dirty. Pleasure weighed down with guilt and fear and shame. Yet sweet. So sweet. Nothing could mask it. Not even Lara's conscience.
When they broke apart, Lara looked away. Didn't want to see that insufferable smirk.
"Not here." She relented.
Not again. Can't do this again.
But when Lucas made a sound of agreement, the fluttering in her insides was too delicious. A kiss from him followed, right where her jaw met her neck. Memories of his endowment were burned clear in her head… so clear that she almost forgot how talented his mouth was.
Lara took Lucas by the hand and peeked out to check if the coast was clear. A couple drones in their cubicles, too buried in their work to care. A short walk away, she spotted an office, dark and empty.
Nerves blitzing, belly twisting, Lara led them on quickly - and bit her tongue when she felt a soft pinch at her bottom.
God, Lara… What the fuck are you doing?