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I push and she goes without question, bending over for me. Honeyeh is so responsive to my every touch it only stokes the fire burning in my balls. I’d love to hold both her wrists above her head, pound into her while she wrapped her legs around my waist and whimpered and begged for me to make her cum.

I nearly lose it, my vision blurring. Fuck. I’m already not sure once is going to be enough. But that’s a worry for tomorrow. For after I’ve cleared my fucking balls of the cum that’s been collecting for days.

I start ripping the thong down her thighs, her ass bare to me, her pussy too.

I haven’t taken off a single article of my own clothing and with a rumble of frustration I back up, ripping the buttons off my shirt to yank it off and then I’m tugging my T-shirt over my head.

She looks beyond incredible in her thigh-highs and thong halfway down her legs. I’m this close to blowing my load in my pants.

I’ve only just reached for the clasp on my trousers when Honeyeh looks over her shoulder with large gray eyes filled with, not lust, but worry.

My hand stills. “Triston?”

“Yeah?”

The round curve of her ass is so gorgeous, her pussy and thighs slick from her own juices.

“I’ve never…” She licks her lips and draws in a shuddering breath. “I’ve never done this before.”

My cock is straining against my trousers, demanding to be set free. “Done what?” Fucked her boss? Had a one-night stand? Been paid as a date and then had sex?

“I’m…I’m a virgin and I…”

The word virgin makes me freeze. I’ve got a fucking virgin bent over the bed in thigh-highs with a thong around her knees.

Fuck. Me.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Honeyeh

The room goes cold.Or maybe that’s just Triston. I’m completely exposed, practically naked, and he just stands there, not saying a word.

I shouldn’t have told him.

But he would have found out and then he might have been mad.

Or perhaps he’s angry now.

“You’re a what?”

I risk looking over my shoulder. His hand is on his waistband, his muscles bunched as though he’s about to strike.

His eyes are dark and hooded, and I shiver with dread. But I don’t move. I’m not sure why, other than he put me in this position, and he didn’t say to leave it.

I draw in a ragged breath. I don’t think I understood about myself how much I wanted a strong man to tell me what to do. How obedient I want to be. How it makes me feel safe. “Please don’t stop,” I whisper. “Please.”

“Honeyeh,” he growls, and he sounds like he’s pissed.

“Don’t be mad,” I whisper as I feel tears stinging my eyes. “I want to please you. I?—”

“Honeyeh.” This time its sharp. Hard. My lips press together to hold the words in.

And then he’s moving toward me, his hands on my legs as he grabs my thong and pulls it up my thighs. I give a little cry, feeling raw and exposed and…rejected.

He scoops his shirt off the floor and then he tugs me up to standing, grabbing one of the arms and jamming my arm through the sleeve and pulling the shirt around my back and yanking it up my other arm. “Pull it closed,” he demands, his voice a deep, hard rumble.

I do as he asks.