Valhalla Virus by Nick Harrow (best management books of all time TXT) 📕

Because the last time they’d done anything like this was the night Gunnar had shown up on Mimi’s doorstep and told her about his falling out with Corso. They’d gotten good and wasted on whiskey and weed, fucked until morning, and Mimi had told him it wouldn’t happen again until Hell had frozen over.

“Shh,” she replied, her breath hot against his lips. “Just be with me.”

Apparently, the cold weather had finally hit the nether realms.

Gunnar’s tongue chased Mimi’s between her lips, then pulled back so she could catch her breath. When her hands pressed against the ridged muscles of his stomach through his shirt, he cupped her ass in one hand. Her hips ground down on him, and he raised his own to meet her.

Mimi cursed and ripped one arm free of her vest, revealing her left breast, and then her right. She took Gunnar’s hand and pulled it up to cup her. “Harder,” she urged him.

Gunnar squeezed Mimi’s firm flesh and kneaded the stiff bud between his index and middle finger. He worried he’d hurt her with any more pressure until she pinched her other nipple and pulled it taut, squeezing it until a whimpering gasp tore loose from her throat.

“Make me feel it,” she panted through clenched teeth. “You won’t hurt me.”

She ground against him, urging Gunnar to answer her need. He pinched her between his fingers, pulling the stiff nub until her back arched and her jaw hung slack. Damp warmth from her crotch soaked his pants as the feverish motion of her hips excited them both. She tore her belt loose, shedding the fur skirt and revealing herself to Gunnar’s touch.

“Bite me,” she urged him, tilting her head to the side to reveal the smooth expanse of her neck. “Fucking eat me alive, Gunnar. Do it.”

She pressed her throat to his mouth, a low growl rumbling against his mouth. Gunnar sucked at her neck until she moaned and writhed in his lap. The taste of her flesh and sweat ignited something primal between them. Gunnar teased her with the edges of his teeth, just grazing her skin. Mimi tore his hand away from her breast and shoved it between her legs, pressing the length of his middle finger against the slit of her sex.

“Harder,” she groaned.

Gunnar increased the pressure on her throat, bit by bit. He teased her with his finger, gliding up and down, the tip circling her opening before rising back up to caress her sensitive bud. She trembled against him, her pulse throbbing against his tongue as his teeth tightened on her skin.

“Don’t stop,” Mimi demanded, her voice shaking with need. “Don’t you dare stop.”

Gunnar laughed against her throat as she wrapped her arms around his head. Her fingers pulled his hair, harder and harder, urging him to push her over the edge. His hand and mouth worked in unison to keep her right there, so close to release without giving her what she needed. Then he pulled his mouth away from her with a wet pop and looked into her wild eyes.

“Don’t,” she started.

“Tell me what you want,” Gunnar demanded.

His finger slipped lower, gently probing before pulling back.

“That,” she pleaded. “God, you’re killing me.”

“Say it,” Gunnar demanded again.

Mimi reached between them and pulled at the drawstrings on his pants. She struggled with the knots and glared at Gunnar like he’d just taken away her most prized possession. “This.” Her fingers closed around his throbbing cock through his pants, squeezing it as hard as she could. “I want you to fuck me until I can’t think.”

Gunnar dropped his hands to Mimi’s hips and lifted her off his lap with ease. He turned her away from him and lowered her, slowly, until her dripping cleft slipped and slid across the swollen red head of his prick.

She grabbed him with both hands, guiding him into her.

Gunnar held her, just like that, poised at the trembling edge, his need burning bright as a star. And then he pulled her down onto him and thrust up at the same time, all control lost to the velvet grip of her sex clenched around him.

Mimi threw her head back onto his shoulder and clutched Gunnar’s forearms so hard her nails dug angry red dimples into his skin.

There was no restraint, nothing held back. Mimi bucked on Gunnar. He pinched her breast with one hand and feverishly stroked the swollen pearl of her clit with the other. Their bodies slapped against one another, again and again, a rhythm as wild and unstoppable as the waves slamming onto a beach. She bit Gunnar’s earlobe and pulled his hair, an endless moan pouring from her throat. She licked her lips and drove herself onto Gunnar with bruising force, meeting his every thrust with a desperate movement, eager to feel all of him.

The bodyguard stood up, holding Mimi close to him with one hand, while sweeping the lamp and phone off the desk next to them. The light shattered, and the phone’s plastic exploded against the wall. He lowered Mimi onto the table, her back against the wall, and drove himself into her with slow, steady strokes. The desk’s wooden legs creaked; the Venetian plaster cracked, and chunks of it sloughed off the wall and crashed to the floor.

Mimi laughed, her voice wild, as the table’s back legs finally buckled and the furniture fell apart. Gunnar pulled her tight and spun her around to the bed. She wrapped her legs around his hips, digging her heels in and pulling him down onto the sheets on top of her.

“There,” she moaned as Gunnar sank into her.

She pulled his hair and groaned into his shoulder, biting him, matching his thrusts with raised hips to take all of him. Her voice rose, the hoarse gasps becoming raw shouts. Mimi’s fingers dug into the pristine sheets, wrenching them around her fists as she writhed beneath Gunnar. The fabric tore under her nails, and she laughed again, her wild abandon driving him insane with lust.

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