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“You said you wanted to do something for me. And this is something I want.” To see him tip over the edge, head thrown back as he loses control. For him to join me in this madness. To surrender to a connection neither of us expected. “I want you to feel good,” I tell him. “If you won’t let me touch you, I at least want to watch.”
He wavers, gaze dipping down to my still topless breasts, nipples puckering under his stare. I lean in close, whispering, “Unzip your pants.”
His chest expands, pulling in a choppy breath as his hand moves slowly over his body, doing as I say, the sound of his zipper loud in the quiet of the room. I reward him with a trail of kisses down the column of his throat, inhaling that delicious woodsy scent of his.
“Take out your cock.” Seriously, where is this seductress coming from?
He reaches in his boxers, pulling out his gorgeously erect cock, the thing jutting out proudly. My fingers itch to reach out and stroke it, but I curl them instead, resisting temptation. I won’t push my luck too far with him. Despite my illusion of control, he’s still the one with the power.
“Light touches,” I instruct him. “Teasing more than anything else.”
He groans at the first touch of his hand, eyes shutting as an expression of bliss crosses his face. “You get me so fucking hot,” he murmurs, just brushing his fingers against himself. From this close, it’s easy to spot the goosebumps that race over his skin, the way he seems to shudder, following my directions to a tee.
“A little harder.” I’m captivated as he curls a palm around his dick, stroking himself once, twice, the action sending a wave of arousal through me. All that power of his leashed, under his control. Those same fingers on himself now were just inside me, caressing me, bringing me to greater heights.
“Harder,” I whisper, moving my own hand down, turned on again. I slip my fingers over my panties, rubbing softly, watching as he grips himself tighter. “Do you ever think of me when you touch yourself?”
The question slips out before I can censor myself, but I can’t regret it too much. In this moment, this far gone, I’m dying to know.
His eyes open, and as he turns to face me, they widen, realizing what I’m doing too. “Yes,” he breathes, gaze laser-focused on the movements of my hand. “All the time.”
“Really?” I’m not sure why his answer surprises me. I guess just knowing I have any kind of effect on this man still seems incredible.
He leans in, bringing his free hand around to cup the back of my head, fingers tangling in my curls as he draws me in for a long kiss, his lips gentle and sweet. He pulls away after a minute, murmuring, “You’ve been on my mind since day one.”
Again, really? I glance down, his pace lazier now as he moves his fist up and down, pleasuring himself. Because I asked him to. My own private show.
“You walked into my office,” he continues, “and I was a goner. You were so goddamned gorgeous.” His hand in my hair tugs slightly, encouraging me to bare my throat to him. He leans in, laving hot kisses along my neck. “I can’t get you out of my head. Especially now that I really know you.”
Reality crashes over me. Now that he knows me? He doesn’t know the whole truth. Can’t know it.
I swallow, my fingers stalling, and he seems to pick up on my mood, his strokes slowing. “What is it?”
“Nothing.” I paste on a smile, praying he can’t tell the difference, and straddle his thighs again, whispering, “I think of you too. At night when I’m alone in bed. Imagining what it would be like with you. If you’d take me rough or gentle. Need to have you now fast or achingly slow.”
My words have their intended effect, distracting him from my slip-up. “You do?”
“Mmm-hmm.” It’s not like it’s a lie, though. I really have imagined it. “So which would it be? Rough and fast? Or gentle and slow?”
His Adam’s apple bobs. “That’s a dangerous question.”
“Why?” I can’t help my smirk, knowing exactly what I’m doing.
His hand trails down my back, featherlight, until it reaches my ass, cupping me. I arch into his touch, and as my gaze meets his, my grin fades at the serious look in his eye.
“Because I want both,” he replies, fingers flexing on me. “If I was a different person, if I lived a different life, I’d do it all with you. Rough, soft, fast, slow, and everything in between.”
My hands grip his shoulders, kneading the heavy muscles there. “You can do whatever—”
“Let’s not get into that right now,” he interrupts.
He’s right. Now’s not the time.
Between us, his fist still moves idly over his cock, reminding me what we’re here for. I lean in, whispering in his ear, “Faster, then. I want to see you come.”
I scoot back slightly on his thighs, bringing my palms up to cup my breasts, his gaze zeroing in on the action. He picks up the pace, obeying my command, and my own hands quicken, rubbing myself, loving how completely focused he is on me. How much I turn him on. How much I affect him.
My right hand dips down again, underneath the edge of my panties, inside already slick with arousal from coming earlier. “I’m so wet,” I murmur. “You have no clue what you do to me.”