Company Benefits - Dublin

Maeve & Liam: Company Benefits - Dublin

[Author's note: the Maeve & Liam stories are written, and meant to be read, in the order Dublin-Baltimore-Chicago. They occur chronologically in the order Baltimore-Dublin-Chicago]

Maeve was crouching beside her stove and feeding the small West Highland Terrier that she often doted upon as one might a child, when she heard the creak of the front door opening. She stopped cooing to the dog in the voice she reserved for it to call out her husband, who was leaving for work.

"Have a good day! Love you!" The Irishwoman's lilting voice called from the kitchen, the door closing without her receiving a reply. Maeve grimaced and rolled her eyes, patting the Westie's side.

"Love you too, babe," Maeve replied to herself softly, half mocking him, half mocking herself for her foolishness. The coffee she had poured for him sat in a travel cup on the counter, unnoticed or forgotten. Her heart sank when she saw her efforts ignored, and she sighed sadly as set the Westie's stainless steel bowl to the floor where he began to crunch noisily on the kibble she'd given him.

Maeve put her wavy, dark red hair up in a messy bun and resolved to manage her sadness by getting right to work. She wanted to be online before her boss started his day: the time difference between them normally helped her be a good virtual assistant but she knew that he had flown into Dublin last night and that his calendar was nothing but appointments visiting the local offices. Today, she wouldn't be able to rely on the different time zones to keep ahead of his schedule and decided she had better get to work.

Maeve had ensured that she'd kept the schedule for his morning free to combat the inevitable jetlag, had prepared a list of briefings and replied to a handful of "asking for information that could have been figured out by opening his calendar" emails to clear the deck for the decisions that actually required him to answer directly. Typically this was accomplished even before he'd even gotten out of bed, even though he was an early riser but today would be different. Maeve didn't mind the occasional early start and she guessed that she would be getting off early because of it.

Feeling pressed for time and knowing that she would have to hustle a little more than usual, she left her dog eating in the kitchen to dash upstairs to her boudoir-style bedroom that tripled as an art studio and home office. She started to strip down, preparing to toast the morning and looking forward to a hot shower before getting ready for work. Maeve opened a small window to aid with ventilation, setting up her Bluetooth speaker to link with her phone when she heard footsteps of someone walking up the path to the house followed by a short, sharp rap of the knocker.

Cursing the gobshite postman's tendency to find the most inconvenient times to show up, she pulled on her robe, hanging nearby on a hook in the bathroom. The long, black satin robe with theatrically draped sleeves covered little more than her short black nightgown, but she preserved what little modesty it provided tying it on the way as she hurried downstairs, planning to hide herself entirely behind the front door to accept whatever parcel couldn't fit through the letterbox.

"I'm coming!" Maeve called out, nearly tripping over the excited Westie who had come to see what all the fuss was about. She descended the stairs barefoot, gripping the satin to her ample chest tightly as she deftly tied the silk belt into a knot around her small waist.

"Churchill, move!" Maeve cried out in a panic, shooing the yappy dog away from the door with her delicate foot. Leaning one of her legs into the doorway, she opened it cautiously, doing her best to keep Churchill from escaping. The man standing in the doorway was absolutely not the postman, and Maeve's emerald green eyes first widened in disbelief and then joy.

Maeve gasped in surprise and threw the door open wide, disregarding Churchill who raced forward in greeting, but then stopped and gave a low uncertain growl. She stood still for a moment, almost as though she was uncertain how to behave, before deciding to leap at him, squealing in delight.

"Come in here, fella!" Maeve laughed joyously, wrapping her arms around the strong shoulders of the man she adored, pulling him into the small entryway of her modest home. While the man struck a powerful figure, Maeve was unafraid of using her enthusiastic momentum to tug him into her embrace. Maeve called out for Churchill to follow, and the dog obediently wheeled about and trotted inside, sniffing the man curiously. Maeve's heart fluttered with joy as she looked upwards at the man she held in her arms, her green gaze answering his blue with love and relief that he'd returned to her.

"Am I happy to see you!" Maeve laughed, her face lighting up the way only her beloved Liam could make her. Her shower forgotten, the redheaded minx pounced on him, pressing him against the nearest wall to cover his mouth with kisses, each one feverish with longing for him. She could be pleasantly forceful at times and seeing him was bringing that fiery side out in her, revealing the passion that she ached to have returned.

"I know this is unexpected," he replied tentatively between Maeve's kisses, his words accented differently than hers. He stuffed a crumpled bit of yellow paper into his pocket.

"And I, umm, I stopped for a take out coffee," he added, sounding and feeling much more confident after the shower of affectionate kisses, "Dark roast with cream and sugar, your morning brew."

Maeve accepted the coffee gratefully, feeling touched that he'd remembered her exact order. She waited while Liam kicked off his shoes, sipping the coffee with pangs of gratitude and desire. The dog skittered off into the kitchen as Liam pulled Maeve close and returned her affectionate kisses, their bodies pressing against each other almost as though drawn together by some unknown force.

Running his hand through his medium length, dirty blond hair, he grinned mischievously. "You were probably expecting me to head straight to the office? The day hasn't even started and I'm already off schedule."

Maeve smirked at his teasing words, shrugging without replying verbally. Maeve and Liam were typically on the same wavelength and tended to know when one planned something that involved the other but she knew Liam was supposed to be at work that day. Maeve kept track of Liam's schedule both for his convenience and so she knew when to be available.

"Is everything okay?" Maeve asked, stroking his cheeks tenderly, a little bit of worry in her tone.

"You haven't come with dreadful news, have you? I know we always promised we'd end things face to face but this seems a bit extreme, no?" Maeve laughed nervously, chewing on her soft, rosy lower lip.

"No, not dreadful news at all," he said kindly, running his finger across her cheek. Maeve's seemed to have briefly returned to the dark place that Liam had found her in when they'd first started all of this: the version of her that was genuinely amazed and delighted at the smallest expressions of love. Times like this, she sometimes felt the need to fill the spaces left by silence. As if the walls would close in if there was no sound to hold them back. Her chest tightened as the steel cave of anxiety began to crush against her ribs and the extra words began to dribble from her mouth involuntarily, as though she felt the need to explain her doubt.

"I would like to trust that everything about us is good, but I wasn't expecting to see you this morning. Like, why aren't you at work? You coming here like this to break up with me is a very real fear for me, like this is going to end with my head lopped off in the public square or something. Figuratively of course - I'm not an aristocratic Frenchwoman or anything. If anything, I'm more the type to start political agitation over inequity than be the cause of it." Maeve giggled then paused for a moment, then when she saw that Liam was still listening, but obviously a little concerned by her train of thought.

"Have you read

Eat the Rich

? I might make a few dramatic guillotine jokes, but what I really mean is that we should just do better than letting corporate dragons have their hoards. And as for those French royals, well, they fully deserved to be guillotined. But the French monarchy was somehow less wasteful and cruel than these fucks today." Maeve waved her hands, passionate about trying to better the world in her own fiery way. The way her green eyes glittered and her hair fell from the bun to frame her face suggested that it was mostly tongue-in-cheek, but that her passion was genuine.

He hung on every word, nodding as she spoke, holding her hands so his simple gold band sat next to the intricate white gold and gems of hers. He held eye contact with her, but letting her speak, letting her be heard. His patience and willingness to listen to her wildest thoughts and most vulnerable moments had slowly healed her heart from hurts that he hadn't made.

"You won't get any argument from me," he said lightly and with a reassuring tone, enjoying how her stream of consciousness had menadered from fear of a break up to fomenting social revolution. Maeve let out a small self-conscious laugh, nuzzling him as she recovered from the initial worries that had led her down the dark path. By the time he finished speaking, Liam could see her self-correcting. She realised that he had wrapped his arms tightly around her and was squeezing her around the waist in the way he knew she liked best. She let out a happy cry and answered back with her own enthusiasm, squeezing him back.

"I know, I just... When I get going, well, you know me... Speaking of knowing me, I just fed Churchill so he'll be fine," Maeve reassured Liam, whom she knew loved animals. She wondered where the little dog was now hiding but knowing he was safe in the house was sufficient for the time being.

Maeve's fingers tenderly traced their way over Liam's cheeks feeling reassured and safe in his arms. Suddenly aching for her, he looked deeply into her eyes and pulled her fully into him, squeezing her tightly while whispering "I'm not going anywhere," against the hollow of her throat. The pair swept upstairs toward Maeve's bedroom, trading kisses and stumbled up the narrow stairwell.

As they lumbered up the stairs, his hand found the curve of her ass, barely covered by the little black nightgown she was still wearing under her flowing satin robe, having only just finished the household morning routines. He gripped her firmly, fingers digging into her skin under her lacy black panties and leaving little red marks where he touched her. A sign of his passion and their shared need to have little hurts to remind them of their time together. The firm grip surprised Maeve, making her gasp as she felt the pleasant sting from his possessive touch.

Moaning softly into his mouth while they kissed, she pulled him into her bedroom. As they undressed each other, their clothes fell away carelessly, onto the carpeted floor, flung around them with the sort of abandon that betrayed the growing need they shared, craving each other's bodies. The only sounds were gasping breaths between long, passionate kisses and Maeve's soft, happy whimpering.

Maeve briefly and reluctantly broke free to pull the curtains closed, looking out momentarily at the quiet street and empty driveway below. The street was never completely quiet, and there was a sense of foreboding to the morning with this unexpected visit. Before she returned to Liam's arms, he stripped off his shirt and tossed it aside, knocking a photo frame to the floor. The red haired woman and dark haired man smiling at each other in the frame, fell face down, eyes averted from the passion unfolding as Maeve and Liam tumbled into the bed.

Maeve's bed was soft and welcoming, like resting upon a cloud. It was yielding like the woman herself, familiar and yet different each time they embraced. Today, the difference was a new perfume, one that she'd bought for herself after last Valentine's Day when the day had passed without mention. She'd only had it for a month or so and hadn't had many opportunities to wear it.

"That's a different perfume," he whispered into her neck as he kissed her, noticing the way her scent had changed since they had seen each other. Maeve smiled, glad that he'd noticed, and nuzzled along his neck affectionately, welcoming him into her bed as though he'd only been gone for minutes. Her fingers glided along his skin, enjoying the feeling of being with him physically once more.

"It is, I got it after Baltimore," Maeve said by way of explanation, her breath catching as he found the spot just behind her ear that he knew she loved to be kissed along - it matched on the both of them, she never had trouble finding the same place on him. Her lips savoured the scent and taste of him while they kissed and he moaned in appreciation of her attentions, as she knew just where to kiss him.

"You remembered," he whispered passionately as they rolled into the queen-sized bed together. Without breaking from their embrace, he rolled on top of her, pulling them both into the warmth of her perfumed sheets. The feeling of Liam's weight on top of her was an immense comfort and she wrapped her legs around his waist possessively, hugging him to her warm, curvy body.

She wasted no time in helping him out of the rest of his clothes. Already stripped to the waist, he kicked away his pants and underwear, not wanting anything between them during the all too infrequent moments while they were together. They worked methodically, like a pair of thieves on a heist where every moment counted. Stolen time.

Maeve was starving for the feel of his mouth upon hers, it simply felt right to kiss him, though she knew that the kisses they had were numbered, and so she tried to make each one worth it. He was equally hungry in their kisses, hard and throbbing against her thigh, where her little nightie ended and the soft skin of her inner thigh was being slowly smeared with his precum. Maeve's soft thighs rubbed back against him eagerly, showing how she enjoyed being marked by her lover's cock, how she loved bearing the evidence of his passion.

"Of course, I remembered. Anything I forget about you is against my will," she whispered, knowing it sounded soppy but remembering he encouraged the softer side of her, the side that she had learned to self-edit to avoid revealing some weakness that would only lead to being hurt. Liam didn't hurt her like that, and more, he'd cultivated that softer side where she could lay beneath him and surrender to him completely, trusting him as she trusted no one else in the world. She'd enjoyed finding that softer side, the side that trusted she was being taken care of.

Liam loved her the way she needed to be loved: with fearless and unrestrained desire and devotion. Her world had changed for the better since she'd met Liam, his patient and steady love had allowed her to endure the challenges she faced with grace and drive. He took care of her in a way she hadn't known she needed, but he'd loved her into a dauntless and passionate woman.

Maeve pulled her nightie up coyly with a sexy little smirk, her eyes fixed upon his as she exposed herself for him. She left the black cloth along the curve of her full hips, and pulled the black lace of her panties aside, soaking as they were with the juices of her arousal. She reached for Liam, gently taking his cock into her hands, kissing him deeply. Her welcoming hand guided him to her once more, no more conversation than enough to reassure each other of their desire and love before allowing their shared passion to take them both to the place where words were meaningless.

"I need you inside me, Liam," she whispered desperately in Liam's ear, kissing along his shoulder as she felt a moment's guilt for her admission. Their passion had the power to carry them away, and they willingly succumbed to the pull of the desire they felt for one another. It happened every time they were together, even the first time, though that had been as much of a surprise to themselves as it had to each other. Neither had been looking for a relationship when they met: they both had their own things going on and hadn't expected anything to bloom between them.

Liam and Maeve's hands entwined once more as he entered her, held fast above her head, their mismatched wedding rings coming together as their fingers wove together. Maeve's back arched pleasurably and she offered herself to Liam as best she could with her hands held firmly above her head. Her green eyes sparkled with delight as he slipped into her once more, holding his deep blue gaze while she savoured the safe, warm feeling of her lover on top of her.

Liam holding her down always drove her wild, he was the right combination of gentle and authoritative: unrushed and deliberate, wanting to make the most of their time together. Maeve's silken thighs rubbed against his muscular body, her expression utterly adoring as she gazed up at Liam. She bit her bottom lip to stifle a moan while his rigid cock pushed into her fully like he owned her, spreading her soft pussy wide pleasurably. Her toes curled happily, legs wrapping tight around Liam to keep him inside of her while their bodies began to move in sync with each other.

"Oh, yes!" Maeve cried out, panting with her panties still pushed to the side, clinging wetly to her pussy lips. Liam fucked her eager little pussy, becoming increasingly frantic as she met his rhythm with a complementary pace, their skin slapping as their hips came together with the force of their fucking. They had no restraint in that moment, kissing, hugging and embracing each other as though they simply couldn't get close enough to each other. Being inside wasn't enough, Liam had to fuck Maeve properly, with nothign between them. For her part, Maeve craved being properly fucked by Liam every time she saw him, but it was only stolen moments like this when they could truly make the most of their limited time together.

Maeve cried out in joy while she smiled brilliantly up at Liam, he'd made her morning just by showing up. Now they had the chance to pick up where they'd left off when they were last in bed together. She rolled her hips to meet his loving yet forceful motions, mewling eagerly while he stretched her soaking pussy. Maeve pushed herself against his hands, eager to be released so she could slide her hand down to open herself wide to accommodate him.

Soon, Liam propped himself up, letting go of her hands and pulling her legs up so that she could hold herself open while he took her deeply. Maeve squealed in delight, feeling more pleasure than she had in months, the same month she'd had that trip to Baltimore. Maeve adored Liam and the way he fucked: it was vulnerable, worshipful and passionate all at the same time and made Maeve feel like she was truly and powerfully desired.

Maeve's free hand pressed against Liam's chest for a moment to keep the pace of his fucking sufficiently slow enough that the hand between her thighs could grasp her soaking panties and pull them down. Maeve was trying to strip her clothes away desperately, wanting to discard anything that would impede their lovemaking. He pulled back long enough that she finally shimmied out of her panties, giggling while she tried to keep the rhythm of their bodies consistent despite her movements, kissing his lips hungrily while she worked the wet, lacy panties down her long legs. Finally, when they remained on only one of her delicate ankles, she flung them off into the room, not caring where they landed, so long as she didn't have to focus on anything other than Liam.