Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 133682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 535(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 535(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
“Fuck,” he mutters in a strangled gasp.
I meet his gaze. “Fuck yes,” I say, desperately.
He smiles, like he can’t believe his luck.
Then, his smile burns off as I let go of his hand, and he takes over. He slides his fingers up the inside of my thigh, closer, closer, so close.
I arch my back, curling my hand around his neck, my breath coming fast. He hasn’t even touched my wet panties yet, and I’m aching for him. He inches higher, teasing with those talented fingers that skim across my flesh. Then, with his whole hand, he cups me where I absolutely ache for him. My mouth falls open. “Ohhh,” I moan.
I feel him smile wickedly against my face. “So fucking perfect,” he praises. “I want to make you feel so fucking good.”
“News flash: you kind of already are,” I gasp, lifting my hips, seeking more.
“I know,” he says, and that’s borderline cocky, yet it makes me wetter. “What I mean is…I desperately need to make you come. Right here. On my desk. Right now. Can I?”
My mouth falls open. My breath staggers out. I blink. “Is that even a question?”
Another wicked smile. Then a taunt. “I don’t know, Fable. Is it a question?”
“Yes. The answer is yes. Whatever you’re asking. Yes.”
He drops his mouth to my throat again, then skims his fingers under the damp panel of my panties. He pushes it aside then glides his fingers along my wet pussy.
I shudder in pleasure.
He groans like an animal.
This is a line. And we’re not just crossing it. We’re obliterating it on a Monday morning on his desk as his fingers trace a dizzying circle against my clit, then move down my center, where I’m soaked for him.
While bent over me, he strokes my slick heat, then drops his mouth to mine. He kisses me ferociously as he plays with me, rubbing faster, following my cues, swallowing my needy sighs as the music covers up for us too. Pleasure winds tighter in me, curling in my belly as he plays with my clit, then pinches it. I gasp into his mouth. Loud, maybe too loud. He breaks the kiss. “Quiet, little elf, while I make you come.”
I nod, eager to try, eager to please.
I watch his face. I don’t know who’s enjoying this more—him or me. His eyes are dark, etched with wicked determination as he brushes dizzying circles along my clit expertly, confidently. This is a man who isn’t worried whether I’ll come. This is a man who intends to give me a screaming orgasm.
The realization tips me over. I shudder everywhere. My thighs clench.
“Wilder,” I whisper a warning.
“Shh,” he says, then covers my mouth once more, kissing me as he hits me just so, just right, just perfectly till I tremble and shake as an orgasm slams mercilessly into me. I’m moaning, murmuring, panting his name, but he’s shutting up every noise with passionate, hot, deep kisses as he coaxes the orgasm out of me. But he doesn’t stop. Instead, as I’m still coming down from that high, he slides two fingers inside me.
My breath halts. “Are you…?”
“Do you want me to stop?” He eases out his fingers.
I grab his wrist, halting him, shaking my head. “Don’t say such a terrible thing.”
A grin takes over his handsome face, and he thrusts back into me, then fucks me harder with his fingers, deeper, urging me with his body to keep going.
I’ve never had multiple orgasms before.
My head falls back. I hold on to him for dear life as he crooks his fingers inside me.
My head is hazy. My body hot. My heartbeat chaotic. And soon, as he fucks me harder, my brain goes offline till I’m frantic with the need to come. “Yes,” I moan, and then an orgasm crashes into me, and he sends me over the edge again.
I collapse onto his desk, but he catches me, looping an arm around my back as he gently eases out his fingers. With me spread out on his desk, he presses the gentlest kiss to my lips, then straightens his spine, adjusts his tie, and brings his fingers to his lips.
My eyes pop wide, and I push up on my elbows and watch him lick the taste of me off his fingers. His eyes are fiery. His hair is sticking up in all directions. His lips look bruised. He’s a man who’s just fucked a woman well. And he licks every last drop of me, sighing contentedly as he finishes. “So fucking delicious.”
And the world remakes itself yet again with a fresh new realization—my boss wants to eat me.
“Excuse me,” he says, then strides across the room to a door. Must be the executive washroom. He heads in, closes the door, then turns on the faucet.
I push up, looking down at the mess of my clothes. My skirt is twisted. My panties are useless. My hair is probably a nest.