Chapter 4
DOMINIC
Five simple words is all it takes to unravel thirty-four years of self-control.
Show me what you need.
She said that. This innocent girl in worn heels and a thrift store blouse who drew a smiley face on my coffee. She looked at me as I showed her the trap I built, and instead of running, she stood up and offered herself to me.
Christ, after what I’ve done, I don’t deserve her.
But I’m taking her anyway.
“Come here,” I say as I unfasten my belt.
Her eyes drop to my hands as the leather slides through the buckle. The sound of my zipper is loud in the sealed room. Hazel’s chest is heaving in that too-tight blouse, and the buttons are straining over a set of tits I’ve been staring at through the glass all morning.
My cock belongs between them, sliding up and down, a display of what I have in store for her.
I push my pants and briefs down just far enough to pull myself out, and when she sees it, her whole body goes rigid.
My cock is thick, veiny, and pulsing with anger from hours of confinement. It sticks out toward her, already dripping pre-cum from the tip. And the way she stares at it—her mouth open and eyes wide, blush creeping up from her throat—confirms what I already suspected.
She’s never seen one before.
“Oh…” she whispers. That’s it. Oh.
“Give me your hand, angel.”
She does as she’s told and extends her hand, her fingers trembling. I take her by the wrist and bring her palm to my shaft. Her delicate fingers don’t close around my girth. Not even close.
Even if she used both hands, she still wouldn’t cover my length.
“Squeeze,” I tell her. She does. My cock pulses against the smooth skin of her tiny hands, and a bead of pre-cum spills over her thumb.
“Oh my God…” she breathes. “It’s so hot. I didn’t think it would feel like—”
“Stroke it,” I say, covering her hand with mine, guiding her up and down. “Drag the moisture over it. Just like that. Tight. Don’t be gentle with me.”
Her eyes light up, and she pumps me with both hands, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. She watches my face with intent, the way she might study a textbook, looking for answers.
She’s a quick learner and eager to please.
“That’s a good girl,” I growl.
Her pupils dilate, and her thighs press together. She’s squirming right where she stands as she keeps stroking me.
That’s right. You love the praise, don’t you?
I file that piece of information away for later.
“Harder.” I grit my teeth as she tightens her fists, stroking me with more force. I show her how to twist the tip but have to grab her wrist and yank her off before I blow all over her blouse.
Panic floods through her face. “Oh my God, did I hurt you? I’m so sorry—”
“Shut up.” I lean in and cradle her jaw with my hand. Her mouth snaps shut, and her big hazel eyes blink up at me with obedience. My cock is absolutely pulsing. “You didn’t hurt me, little girl. You’re gonna make me come too fast, and I’m not done with you yet.”
Grabbing her by the hips, I lift her up and set her on my desk. She squeals one of those startled, girly squeals, and it makes my cock flex and slap against my stomach. I shove my monitor aside, sweeping a stack of million-dollar trade reports to the ground.
“Lean back,” I tell her. “Spread your legs.”
She may be trembling, but she obeys. She’s red from her chest to her hairline, and as she lets her knees fall open, I see them—a pair of white cotton panties with a damp spot in the center that’s so prominent it makes my mouth water.
“You’re soaked, angel.” I press my thumb against the wet cotton, just beneath her clit. She jolts like I’ve just shocked her. “How long have you been sitting at your desk like this?”
“S–since this morning,” she stammers, her voice timid. “I couldn’t see you, but it’s like…I could feel you through the glass.”
Jesus. She’s been sitting out there all day with a sopping cunt, squeezing her thighs together every time she looked at my office. The thought makes my balls draw up, aching with desire.
“By the way, how does that glass work?” She turns and looks over her shoulder, through the glass, out to the office where everyone is working. Perfectly visible, just going about their day.
“Ever seen one of those police dramas?” I ask her. “Where they have the interrogation room with the mirror that the cops can see through from the other side?”
“Um, I think so?”
“Same idea.” I lift the remote and show it to her. “I press this button, the glass goes dark. I can see out, but no one can see in.”
Something moves in her eyes. She glances out again, then back to me. Yeah, she likes it.
I lean in and hook my fingers in the waistband of her panties and tug them down. I want to go slowly, take my time, but I can’t. I’m desperate. I need to see it, and I need it now.
She lifts her hips to help me, and the sight of her willingness and trust, despite barely knowing me, almost levels me.
Her underwear slides off her feet, and there it is.
The most gorgeous little pink pussy I’ve ever seen in my life.
“Fuck…” I pocket the underwear. “I’m keeping these for now.”
“Yes, sir.”
Sir.
There it is again. That fucking word.
Plenty of people say it every day. But hearing it through her lips is different. I can almost taste it.
My knees hit the floor, and not gracefully. I drop down like I’ve been shot, eye level with her pussy now. Pink, glistening, and completely bare, aside from a tiny strip of blond hair.
“Dominic, I’ve never—no one has ever—”
“I know.” I press my lips to her inner thigh, causing her to whimper. “No one’s ever been down here, have they?”
She shakes her head. “No.”
“No one’s been lucky enough to taste this sweet little pussy.”
Her breath increases. The top button of her blouse pops, revealing inches of mouth-watering cleavage. More pre-cum spills from my cock onto the floor.
“Good.” I grip her thighs and spread her nice and wide. “Because it belongs to me now.”
With one deliberate movement, I lick her from hole to clit, and her spine lifts off the desk like she’s having a convulsion.
The taste of her juices fills my mouth—sweet and clean and oh-so wet. I groan against her tender flesh as she soaks my chin and cheeks. She slaps a hand over her mouth and I almost smile.
I’m not coming up for air until I ruin her.
“This spot right here,” I whisper. “This is the one.”
I purse my lips around her clit and suck while my tongue moves in precise circles. Steady pressure.
Her hips buck wildly, but I clamp my arms around her thighs, pinning her to the desk.
“Oh God, oh God, oh God. Dominic!”
That’s right. Keep going, angel.
“S–something’s happening to me!”
I slip two fingers inside, and her juicy cunt squeezes down on them so tightly I couldn’t pull them out if I wanted.
So hot. So slippery. Impossibly snug, silky walls. The thought of my cock stretching its way through them has me right on the edge.
“You’re going to come, angel,” I tell her, withdrawing my mouth briefly. “That’s what that is. Go with it. Come on my tongue.”
I curl my fingers up and find her G-spot. Her legs start quaking, and she cries out into her fist. I work her harder and faster, stroking and pressing, while my lips return to her clit, sucking and flicking.
Then I flatten out into broad, heavy licks that drag across the entire swollen little bud.
Watching her writhe and moan is like staring at a masterpiece.
“Please, sir, please…”
She doesn’t even know what she’s saying—what she’s begging for. But she’s about to find out.
I fuck her with my fingers and eat her clit with no mercy. Her body trembles, then her hips buck up and slam down, violently shaking my desk. Her thighs clamp around my head like a vise, and her heels dig into my back.
But I don’t care. I don’t even feel the pain.
All I hear are the sounds she’s making now—words that aren’t words. High, broken mumbles that sound vaguely like my name.
Her pussy drenches my chin. Her juices drip down my wrist.
“Come.” I somehow manage to growl into her. It’s a command. “Come for me. Now.”
Her back bows so hard it nearly snaps. Her mouth opens in a silent scream. Then a moan tears out of her, bouncing off the walls of my office.
Her tiny, virgin cunt spasms around my fingers, and a gush of wetness floods my lips and palm. I drink from her, lapping at every single delicious wave, making it last until she’s shaking so hard I’m sure my desk is about to collapse.
Then I ease her down, slowing my licks. Making them gentle.
I kiss the insides of her thighs, her adorable mound, the creases of her hips. When I look up, I see she’s crying. But not from pain. Not from fright. From the overwhelming sensations of something she didn’t even know her body could do.
When I stand, I see that my cock is flushed red and dripping, standing out so stiff it hurts. I take it in my fist and start stroking, staring down at her spread wide open on my desk, wrecked and glowing, tears spilling from her eyes.
Arms shaking, she sits up and pushes my hand away.
“No, let me.” She doesn’t have the finesse yet, but she doesn’t need it.
I’m so turned on by her that all I need is her touch.
She pumps and twists my cock the way I taught her minutes ago, letting her forehead press against my chest, her breath coming in ragged gasps.
“I want to make you feel the way you made me feel. Tell me what you like.”
You, angel. I like everything you.
“Faster,” I choke. “Twist around the tip. Fuck, yes. Just like that.”
She follows every one of my words, instantly and perfectly. And when I look down at her tiny hands wrapped around my girth—her face plastered with determination—I go over the edge.
I come so hard my knees buckle and nearly give out. My cum streaks across her thighs, her bunched-up skirt, and even the surface of my desk. My head tilts back, and she keeps stroking me through it, milking every single spasm of my monumental release.
And when it’s all over—as the last pulse sweeps through me—she looks up with wide eyes, her hands dripping white like she grabbed a fistful of ice cream.
“Did I earn my panties back, sir?” she asks. There’s a half-innocent gleam in her eyes but something else there too.
A groan comes out of my chest that I’ve never made before—a groan mixed with a laugh. I cup the back of her head and pull her to me, pressing my lips to her hair.
“No. Not even close, angel.”
She seems to like that answer.
I bring her to my private bathroom and let her clean up. When she comes out, her skirt is smoothed and her blouse is fixed—sort of—but her cheeks are still red, and her eyes are glazed and her legs look ready to give out at any moment.
“I should get back to work…” she mumbles. I watch as she goes back to her desk and sits down, crossing her legs. Then uncrossing them.
She presses her thighs together, and after a moment, she glances back at my office. The glass is still dark, so she can’t see in, but I can see her. Those beautiful hazel eyes.
And when she bites her lip in my direction, I feel myself getting hard again.
No panties. She’s sitting in the middle of my trading floor with a staff full of men that have no idea their boss just had his mouth between those satin thighs. No idea that she’s bare and swollen and dripping under that skirt.
And all because of me.
I pick up the coffee cup she brought me and look at the smiley face. Something moves in my chest.
I take her panties out of my pocket and set them in my top drawer. Then I look at my screen and close the contract she never read.