Page 20 of Groom Gamble

Sophia makes an “mm” sound and lifts herself slowly up, resuming her slide over my cock, her breath hitching.

She’s so lovely, discovering her dormant sexuality with me and I admire her.

The phone rings, a jarring, shrill noise cutting into our moment.

We both look at it.

Sophia is naked, riding my cock. I’m still fully dressed apart from where we’re joined.

Damnit, I’ve only just felt her perfect soft wet channel over my length after a lifetime of being without her. I need more.

I’m not ready for this to end yet.

“It’s the London Maths—I mean Mafia Syndicate group call,” she whispers, as though she might accidentally summon them into the room. “I should go?—”

“No.” I grip her as she begins to shift off me. “Stay.”

Her patterned eyes meet mine. “What are you saying?”

The phone continues to ring.

“Ten days, little one. We only have ten days for you to practise.” Because what if she gets pregnant immediately? She might not want to do it again, or something else could go wrong. I need to make the most of every opportunity.

“And you think this will help?” There are nerves in her expression, yes, but arousal too.

“Can you be my good, quiet girl?” I’ll protect her. Have one thumb ready to hang up at any moment. But this is her choice, so I relax my grip. “Just keep me warm for a bit until we can get back to what we were doing.”

A long beat of quiet is punctuated by the insistent shrill of the phone, and I’m certain she’s going to leave.

The ring is so loud. It’s intrusive into our silent communication between our bodies. I’m trying not to beg withmy eyes, because my cock is doing that eloquently. I’m harder than ever, even though she’s stopped moving.

But after a gulp, she nods and the dark thrill of the risk of what we’re doing pulses in my bloodstream.

“Sit still for me, darling.” I allow myself a smug smile as I pick up the call. “Streatham here.”

“Bloody took your time about it,” Lambeth grumbles, and a few others give equally surly greetings before Westminster snaps and begins to talk business.

For a few minutes, she just sits on my lap, and I relish the taboo of what we’re doing. I have my young, gorgeous, forbidden, assistant on me. Her naked tits are right in my eyeline, and every little wriggle of her bottom sends sparks from the crown down to my balls.

My virgin employee. During work time.

That in itself is filthy, but having my cock soaking inside of her during a meeting? Absolutely degraded, and I love it.

I lean fully back into the padded leather of the chair, and listen to the updates, phone in one hand.

Sophia is wide-eyed and disbelieving, but squirming a bit. She’s a kinky little thing, getting off on this casual-use vibe. Is it me using her, or her using me? It’s sort of both.

With slow deliberation, I bring my hand to her breast, and slowly explore the area as though I have no end in mind.

“Streatham,” Westminster barks. “What about Operation Calculus? Do you have an update on the situation with the Essex Cartel?”

Sophia is motionless.

“We’re making very good progress,” I say, looking my girl in the eye, and roll her nipple. “Very good indeed.”

She arches, pushing her small breasts towards me.

“Are we talking about the same thing?” Mayfair demands, his Russian accent stronger with annoyance.