to sense my weakness, she slides forward on the desk, her eyes flashing with mischief, pushing herself against my hand. I feel the slickness of her arousal coat my fingertips and the heat of her on my palm. I drag in a frustrated breath, knowing I should pull my hand away, but finding I can’t do it. That I don’t want to.
All the reasons why I shouldn’t be letting this happen fly around my head at a dizzying rate—then completely vanish as she lets out a husky breath of satisfaction and rocks her hips a little, rubbing her slick folds against my fingers, groaning with pleasure as the tip of my middle finger slides over her clitoris.
‘I think you like naughty women,’ she rasps, lowering herself back onto her elbows, so she’s practically lying across my desk. ‘Women who like to touch themselves in front of you and who know how to make you come so hard your eyes roll back in your head.’
‘You’re enjoying taunting me, aren’t you?’ I growl back at her. ‘You’re getting off on it.’
I’m completely captivated by her determination to get what she wants. I’ve never met anyone with so much pluck.
‘Yessss,’ she hisses as I push my hand harder against her, my fingers pressing into her hot flesh.
‘I should punish you for that,’ I say, totally losing the last vestige of my control. But I don’t care. In fact I’m so far beyond caring it’s ridiculous. I seem to be on autopilot, my craving for her driving me on without my brain needing to engage.
‘Yes...’ she says again, her voice shaking as she nods her head.
She’s so wet it’s easy for my finger to slip inside her. I draw it back and forth, just inside the entrance to her vagina, and she gives me the response I’m looking for, dragging in a stuttering kind of breath as if I’ve hit a sensitive spot.
My cock, which is as hard as a rock now, presses distractingly against my trousers—as if it has a life of its own and is trying to escape its confines. But there’s no way I’m getting it out right now. I want to feel power over her, like she had over me that day at her father’s house, but I also need to see her come again so badly it’s blurring all other thoughts in my head.
I slip another finger inside her, pushing them both deep and feeling her slick arousal run down my hand. Finding the rough pad of her G-spot, I curl my fingers and make a beckoning motion against it, seeing her twitch and jerk in response to the pressure I put there.
‘Oh, fuck!’ she whispers, scratching her nails against the polished surface of my desk, her breasts heaving beneath the thin material of her blouse.
I brace my other hand on the edge of the desk and lean in towards her, taking care to keep my body from touching her. I sense if my cock gets any kind of friction against it right now I’m going to lose my mind.
‘More...give me more,’ she begs, writhing against my hand.
After taking a moment to tease her, pretending I’m deciding whether or not to give her what she needs, I thrust another finger inside her, feeling her stretch to take it.
‘Ungh!’ she moans, her beautiful face contracted in a concentrated frown.
But she obviously likes what I’m doing to her because she bucks her hips, pressing herself harder into my hand. Lifting her head, she looks me directly in the eyes, her expression intensely challenging and such a turn-on I nearly come without her even touching me.
‘Is that all you’ve got?’ she mutters in a voice broken with need.
So I add another finger and see a pleasure-pain-tinged frown flash across her face, quickly followed by an ecstatic widening of her eyes as she stretches more to take my intrusion. Her mouth drops open and a long, low sigh of pleasure whispers out of her throat as I push in deeper.
Sensing she’s close now, I bring my thumb into play, sliding it over her clit in tight circles, taking immense pleasure in seeing her legs tremble on either side of me.
‘Yes, I’m so close...make me come,’ she gasps, her spine arching away from the desk.
But I’m not going to let her call the shots. I’m in control here, and I need her to understand that. I didn’t get to the position I’m in today by letting other people dictate the play.
I still the motion of my hand, drawing my fingers out of her a little way.
She lets out a shout of distress. ‘No—no! Don’t stop now. Please! Keep going!’
I smile to myself, a sense of power surging through me. ‘Only if you promise not to act up at work again. And you have to wear underwear to the office from now on.’
She nods wildly, trying to push herself onto my hand again, seemingly desperate. ‘Okay, okay—I promise.’
‘And don’t make any noise when you come,’ I demand—partly because I don’t want the people on the other side of the door to hear her, but mostly because I want to own this orgasm. I want her to do as I fucking well say in order to get it.
She nods again, seemingly unable to form any words in her state of frantic need, and I begin the deep push-pull of my fingers inside her again, increasing the pressure on her clit with my thumb with each stroke.
I half expect her to defy me, and groan out loud when she orgasms, but I’m surprised and elated when I see her jerk beneath me, biting down hard on her bottom lip and screwing her eyes shut as she starts to come around my hand. I feel her internal muscles spasming, squeezing me hard, and I experience a sort of brain orgasm at the sight of her losing herself but obeying my command.
My whole body heats at the sight of it, sending a wave of profound satisfaction through me as she keeps on jerking against my fingers, as if the greedy sensations have her entirely in their grip and are refusing to let go.
It takes a long time for her to stop moving and sink heavily against the table, as though her bones have melted, and when she does I’m finally able to tear my eyes away from the most erotic sight I’ve ever experienced and breathe again.
And that’s when it hits me—what I’ve just done.
I withdraw my hand, hearing her drag in a breath of surprise as if we’ve become one and I’ve torn away a part of her. I want to get the hell out of there, away from her compelling presence, but I know I can’t do that. I won’t do that. So instead I lift her feet off the chairs and tug down her skirt to cover her.
She sits up, propping her hands on either side of her. ‘Thanks, I needed that,’ she murmurs.
I don’t look at her. I can’t. If I do I think I might say something I’ll regret later. Instead I nod, then walk away, skirting the desk, and sit down in my chair.
She slides off the table and turns to look at me, her head held high as if nothing untoward has happened. As if I haven’t just taken advantage of her in the most lewd way possible.
‘You can leave now. Remember what you promised me,’ I say to her, determinedly keeping my voice steady.
I fold my arms again, so she doesn’t see how much my hands are shaking. I’m sure she’s going to get angry, tell me I’m a monster to dismiss her so coldly after what has just happened between us, but she doesn’t.
