Chapter 8 #2
She doesn’t hesitate this time. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what, princess?” I say, biting back a grin. I know exactly what she’s saying. I just want to hear her say it. “Don’t stop? Don’t keep touching me? Don’t ruin my cheap little tights any further? Don’t—”
“Don’t stop,” she rasps. “Don’t stop, please. Please.”
“There we go,” I chuckle, hooking my finger in the line of her thong.
Fuck, it’s soaked. She’s so fucking wet for me.
I pull it to the side, nearly grunting at the sight of her slick and glistening.
I brush over her lips and she squirms, letting out another little moan from her mouth. “Is that what you wanted?”
“Yes. More.”
“You were so polite before. What happened to your manners?”
“Fuck you, Anthony—”
I take my hand away. She whines.
“Try again,” I say, my voice stern, cold, and demanding.
“More. Please.”
I smirk, giving her more attention this time. When I bring my hand back, I slide it along her slit until I find her clit. My fingers move in slow circles, and I use just enough pressure to make her moan and wiggle. I use my free hand to push down on her upper back and keep her in place.
“You’re going to come for me,” I tell her. I grab the fabric of her blouse in a fist, increase my speed and pressure. I want to see what gets her hot. “And then you’re going to thank me. Understand?”
“Yes. Yes, okay. Thank you—”
“Not yet,” I chastise, taking my fingers away from her clit and pat her lips instead. It’s a mocking tap that threatens more, but doesn’t hurt. “After. I know it’s hard to think right now, but you’ve got to pay attention.”
“Okay. After.”
“Good girl,” I praise, turning my hand palm down and letting my fingers move toward her entrance. She gasps when I find it, then again as I slip one in, testing the resistance. There’s none. “Christ, you’re so ready for me already.”
“In a…in a bad way?” she asks.
“What? Fuck no,” I laugh, sliding my finger back out before pushing in with two this time. There’s slightly more resistance as her muscles flutter around the intrusion. “Never in a bad way. Christ, you’re soaked, April. All this from just a little touching and a few dirty words?”
“Sorry,” she answers.
I grip her shirt harder. “Look at me.”
She turns her head, her hair half in her face, and meets my gaze over one shoulder.
“Never apologize for that. Ever.” My fingers curl toward her stomach, searching for that little spot inside, and she moans gutturally the second I find it. Her lips part and form an O as she stares me down. That image of her might live in my head forever. “Do you understand?”
“Yes,” she whispers. “I understand.”
My thumb easily finds her clit, my fingers starting to properly work her, drawing out umms, moans, and gasps.
The noises she makes are heavenly. All I can think about is how much better she’d sound if my cock was in her instead.
I would drive into her over and over until the only sound she could make would be the sound of my name.
“How many times?” I ask, giving her a little more pressure inside and out. I instantly feel her muscles clench around my fingers as a soft, breathy moan escapes her lips. “How many times did you touch yourself while thinking of me?”
“Oh my God, Anthony—”
“Answer me,” I demand, pushing down harder on her back, moving my hand faster.
“I don’t—I don’t know, I—fuck,” Her hands scramble on the desk, grabbing at the wood, digging her nails in like the inanimate object has personally offended her. “Too many. Too many to count. Please—”
A grin spreads across my face. She’s close. She’s so close. “Atta-girl,” I say. “Let go, princess. Give me what I want. Give me everything.”
Her back arches into me, her mouth opening wide before I release her blouse. I reach around her head and cover her lips with my hand. As she makes shrieking sounds of pure ecstasy holding in the broken, shrieking sounds that tear from her as her walls clamp down hard around my fingers.
I work my fingers inside her, prolonging her pleasure by wringing out every last bit until it’s clear she’s about to come undone.
Her small gasps begin turning into little panicked moans.
I keep my hold on her mouth as she sucks in air through her nose greedily.
My cock is straining in my slacks, hard and twitching and leaking into my boxers.
Afterwards, she’s limp and pliant. She looks more relaxed than I’ve ever seen her.
I walk around to the front of my desk and squat down in front of her face.
Holding her half-lidded gaze with my own, I bring my fingers to my mouth.
She whimpers at the sight as I lick them clean, savoring every sweet drop.
She tastes too good. She sounds too good.
I keep my composure despite how goddamn desperately I want to bury myself inside her.
I touch her cheek with the same hand I’d just cleaned and let my gaze fall to her lips just once before flicking back up to her eyes. “What do you say?”
“Th-thank you,” she whispers.
I smirk and stroke her cheek with my thumb. “Good girl.”
We sit there in the silence for a moment.
Her breathing slowly returning to normal, and her eyes gradually gaining more understanding of where she is, what just happened, and who, exactly, is in front of her.
I see the moment it fully clicks. She scrambles to stand and back away from the desk.
Her eyes are wild as she pulls her skirt down to cover the tears, and her breathing picks back up. I don’t stop her. I don’t say a word.
“Oh my God,” she says, looking from me to the open door between our offices. She takes one stumbling step. Then another. Then she’s moving faster than I can stand up to stop her, hightailing it back to her office and slamming the door behind her. I don’t follow. I don’t need to.
I’m confident that April Swan will sign that goddamn document. Regardless of her stubbornness, snarled protests and clever little comebacks, she now knows what I can give her. She knows I can give her exactly what she asked me for. And now that she’s had it, she knows just how much she wants…again.