She thinks I don’t know what she’s been doing.
She’s been teasing me. Taunting me with those swaying hips and short skirts. Making my dick so hard it fucking hurts.
“Bend over.” I give her the simple command and hold her heated gaze. She’s a rebel at heart. She has no reason to obey me unless she wants to. And I fucking know she wants to. She wants me, just as much as I want her.
Her lips pull into a sexy smirk as her hands slowly fall onto the desk and she spreads her legs slightly before bending over. My dick instantly hardens in my pants. She looks over her shoulder at me with nothing but lust on her face.
“Like this?” she asks in a soft sweet voice, feigning innocence. She’s not innocent at all. She practically begged for this.
Her skirt’s slipped up past her upper thighs, and I can see her garter belt and the beautiful curve of her ass. I lower myself to the floor behind her. That’s what she does to me. She makes me fall to my knees.
“Just like that,” I murmur as I gentle my hands on her thighs.
I inch my fingers up, playing with the thin black straps. The tips of my fingers trace along her creamy thighs, leaving goosebumps in their path.
I lightly brush my hands along her panty line and I’m rewarded with a soft moan spilling from her plump lips. “You like that, Rose?” I ask her as I hook my fingers into the waistband of her lace thong.
I keep my eyes on hers as I slowly pull the skimpy lace thong down to the floor. Her mouth parts slightly and her eyes widen, but she doesn’t stop me. I know I shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t give in to the temptation and make this more complicated. But I’m a selfish man, and I want her.
I repress a groan as she slowly steps out of her thong and widens her stance for me.
“Yes, sir,” she breathes out in a voice laced with desire, “I do.” I can’t help the asymmetric grin that pulls at my lips. I splay my hand on her lower back, just above those cute little dimples and push her down.
She's spread and fully bared to me, glistening with arousal.
“I wanna taste you,” I say against her hot pussy before taking a languid lick. Her legs tremble in her high-as-fuck black leather heels and for a second I worry she won’t be able to maintain her balance in them. But I wanna fuck her in them. Just like this, this is exactly how I want her. I’ve dreamed of this every day since the first day I laid eyes on her.
I need to get her good and ready for me.
I take my time forcing those sounds of pleasure from her lips. I lick my lips and groan at her sweet taste before flicking my tongue against her throbbing clit. Her back tries to arch off the desk, but I hold her down.
She’s going to give me every fantasy I’ve ever dreamed of. I can’t tell her the truth about me, and I know I shouldn’t bring her into this, but her taste on my tongue and the soft sounds that spill from her gorgeous lips make me weak.
She moans my name, and it’s my undoing.
I can’t take it anymore. I stand and quickly unbutton my pants, shoving them down as quickly as I can. She turns her head to watch as she waits patiently, remaining in the position I left her in.
I kick my pants off carelessly with my eyes on hers and stand behind her with my hands gripping her hips. Her eyes are clouded with lust. Not the fear that used to be there. She trusts me. She wants me, and nothing’s holding her back now. If only she knew the truth. I can never give her what she needs.
I know I’m selfish, but I’m taking her.
The ice in the cognac glass clinks as the bartender sets it in front of me on the small white cocktail napkin. I give him a small nod and return my attention to the tablet in my hand. I’m not going to drink the whiskey I ordered. I’m not going to talk to anyone in here, although I’m sure a few business men will approach me. I’m simply waiting for my associate, Trent Morgan.
He’s much more… sociable than I am. I prefer solitude. I do my best work in my office. And if it were any other day, that’s where we’d be. On the top floor of the high-rise that encompasses the success of my company, Parker-Moore Enterprise. From the outside, the sixty-four story building looks as though it’s one sheet of mirrored glass with symmetrical beveled lines that separate the floors.
I inherited the business, but the building is all mine. The idea and the structure. I get the credit for that. The massive influx of clients and profits, they’re all me, too.
And I didn’t get there by holding meetings at a bar in the Madison Hotel.
Dozens of men and women are lingering around me. Some at the high top tables near the large floor-to-ceiling windows that look over the edge and onto the crystal clear harbor below. It’s breathtaking, and at one point in my life I may have enjoyed this room, but right now I’m irritated.