He searched my face for a sign, his jaw tensing with each passing second. When his thumb brushed my bottom lip, my body betrayed me, caving to the seduction and tasting the saltiness of his skin. The way his chest swelled from the contact of my tongue swiping the pad of his thumb, made his intentions clear. He wanted this every day meeting to turn into more.
His free arm wrapped around my waist, forcing my body to shift and face him. Our bodies were flush together now. I’d always thought he was in great shape by looking at him, but being smashed against his body proved it. He was like a rock, and my fidgeting hands slipped from my sides to his pecs.
His body stilled, his eyes showing a fraction of vulnerability. Did he think I was going to shove him away from me? I should have smacked him, but the ache between my legs was begging me to rip his clothes off and have my way with him.
Once my hands relaxed on his chest, a deviant smirk settled across his face. “I’m glad we’re on the same page, Ms. Neely.” He took my hand that had been burned earlier and studied it, only to plant a gentle kiss where a faint red mark was in place from the hot coffee.
I opened my mouth to respond, but was captured by his lips before words came out. My breath was stolen by his tongue plunging into my mouth with no fear, diving in, and exploring eagerly.
I groaned into his mouth, both my hands finding his hair, grasping it while he kissed me fiercely. The dominance of his mouth was equivalent with his personality. Bold, strong, and demanding. All of the qualities that made me want to punch him in the face on a daily basis.
I bit down on his lip and shoved at his rock of a chest. He grunted, yet kept me in his hold.
“You’re an asshole,” I gasped, releasing my bite on his lip, still whirling from his kiss.
“Tell me something I don’t know.” Craft’s eyes were like molted hot lava, burning with desire as he stared at me. My outburst didn’t have an effect on him. It only caused that dirty mouth to suckle the weak spot along the side of my neck.
His mouth felt amazing, but anger fueled inside of me. He knew he was a dick, and didn’t give a shit, thinking he could still take whatever he wanted.
Craft was in for a rude awakening. It was time to speak my mind. Time to finally let him know how big of a jerk I thought he was. Here he was, keeping me in his office, putting his hands on me. That deliciously stubbled jaw scraped along my neck and against the shell of my ear, causing unwanted tingles to slither up and down my body. Those tingles were traitors; along with my hardening nipples, but that wasn’t the point.
No, he needed to realize that just because he was sexy and successful didn’t mean he could take advantage of women whenever he wanted. Fury surpassed my aching need for release in my body, and I couldn’t hold back my tongue any longer. And no, not from licking him… although my mouth was twitching eagerly at the thought.
He nibbled on the soft skin where my shoulder met my neck. I masked my moan with a growl.
Both of my hands flung to his hair, grabbing the thick locks and yanking his head from the nook of my neck.
Hot, lust-filled eyes met mine. He fought my grip to claim my mouth, but I kept my hold. He groaned and licked his lips.
“What the fuck do you think you're doing?” I hissed, digging my nails into his scalp.
He furrowed his brows and his hands carefully unwrapped from my waist. I thought I was gaining the upper hand, that he was going to stop this frenzy we had created in the matter of moments, but I was wrong.
His hands quickly latched onto my thighs, grasping underneath the hem of my dress. My breath whooshed from my chest in a rush, my hands still clinging to his hair as he lifted me onto the desk, knocking the laptop to the ground in the process. He spread my legs apart and hiked my dress to my hips, nestling his groin comfortably between them.
My eyes went wide. His arousal was pressed to the thin panty covering my mound. My hips bucked forward against my will, begging for friction. I shouldn’t have wanted him so badly, and I most definitely shouldn’t have given into the sensation, but the quick pulse below my waist begged to differ. It was filled with a need, aching for the longing burst of release it hadn’t had in too long of a time.
Craft’s lip twitched in satisfaction, his own hips grinding. The palm of his hand snaked to my lower back, holding me in place. “Don’t pretend we don’t have the same thoughts about each other,” he breathed across my cheek. “Don’t deny this.”
My eyes rolled to the back of my head as his tongue traced a trail down my neck and to my collarbone. “What am I denying?”
Warm lips caress my jaw. “I’ve seen how your chest rises when I walk in the door, how your breathing quickens when your vision rakes up and down my body. You’ve thought about this moment.”
What an arrogant prick.
My hands flew from his hair, shoving at his stone of a chest again. His hips stayed in place, but his mouth moved from my skin. “Get the fuck off of me,” I hissed. “I’ve never checked you out. I might stare at you because I’m shocked how much of a conceded asshole you are, not because I want to have sex with you!”
A smirk crossed his lips. He knew I was lying to him. My mouth was confessing my hatred toward his attitude, yet my body was fuming with the undeniable physical desire toward him.
“Ms. Neely, I must admit, I love this smart mouth of yours. You should use it more often.”
I grabbed his tie, tugging it forward.
Keeping his face an inch from mine, I whispered. “This smart mouth has all kinds of talents, but you’ll never know the half of them.”
The hard ridge in his pants twitched into my core, and I etched against it.
He licked his lips. “That’s too bad, because my mouth is more than willing to swap talents.”
I held my breath, unsure why my being a bitch wasn’t turning him off. With his ego, I’d assumed he’d curl away, tell me I’m ugly and that he was only trying to fuck me. Not continue to persuade me.
The pad of his thumb brushed my inner thigh, creeping closer to the apex. My legs were frozen around him, unable to move from the gentle touch. He watched for a reaction every inch higher up my leg he went.
I bit down on my bottom lip, refusing to indicate that my body was craving him and on the verge of submitting. My hatred for him was evaporating into shock wave of tingles.
“Would you like for me to share?” He murmured, his thumb now playing with my panty line. No doubt he could feel the heat of excitement seeping into his restrained cock.
“Huh?”
Trailing his thumb over the top of the lace now, he skimmed between my lips. His smirk became wicked from feeling my dampened folds. “Would you like for me to share the talent my mouth has?”
I sat there on the desk, my mouth gaped opened as he fondled me underneath my dress. This was all so abrupt, so sudden. I couldn’t process a thought, especially when his hands were as skillful as they were rumored to be.
The hand that was on my lower back slid to my waist, stroking a peaked nipple in its route to my chest.
His breath was hot and urgent as he muttered his next words. “Let me show you.” The palm of his hand firmly applied pressure against my chest, guiding me to lie on my back. His hand left my chest, grabbing my ankle and rising up my thigh, the anticipation only adding to the ache.
I should have stopped him when he rolled the fabric down my hips and through my heels, getting caught on the sharp end of the stiletto. I should have kicked him in the nuts, or sat up and slapped him. But no, instead I came up onto my elbows, anxious for his next move. Feeling a thrill from how he went to his knees, his pupils dilated as he spread my legs, glued to my center.
Thank goodness I kept up with my razor down there.
His eyes flicked to mine. “You like to watch, don’t you?”
I bit my lip. I’d never been intrigued to watch a man go down on me, why I couldn’t take my look away from his stubbled jaw so close to my naughty bits was beyond me.
His grin could have belonged to the devil himself. “Filthy girl. I can’t wait to taste this pretty pink pussy of yours.” One finger slithered between my folds, moving sleekly from my excitement. “I’m going to think about this every time I have a meeting at this table. How you spread your legs for me.”
I latched my leg around his shoulder. “And I’ll think of how you fell to your knees for me.”
His brows narrowed, his tongue darting out to moisten his lips. “You’ll be on your knees soon.”
My lip curled. Not a chance in hell.
His nimble finger paused at my entrance, gently circling. The slow process was agonizing, and my hips began to move, needing him to come inside. He was teasing me now, and I didn’t have time for this shit.
I sat up and grabbed his chin. “You have a meeting at 2:30pm.”
In an instant, my breath was stolen from me as two fingers sunk inside of me. My eyes rolled back while he pumped.
“Greedy and impatient. I’m learning all kinds of new character traits of yours, Ms. Neely.”
“Yes,” I agreed, although the soft hum of my voice was one of satisfaction and not because I agreed with him.
He stood from his knees, palming my mound while he thrust his fingers at a steady pace. “You’ll have to be patient for my tongue,” he murmured across my gaping mouth, nipping my bottom lip.
“You’ll never get mine,” I grunted, grasping his biceps for leverage. The way his palm was putting pressure on my clit was creating a buildup I’d never experienced before.
His fingers were jammed to the brim now, crooked perfectly to stimulate me in just the right way.
“Keep doing that,” I whispered, latching onto the back of his head, running my hands through his hair.
“Like this?” He coaxed, slowing down his rhythm.
My legs began to shake with the change of pressure, my breathing erratic. I was focused now, chasing the high I never thought I’d get. Especially not from Craft.
Digging my hand down the back of his shirt, I clawed at him, pulling him closer to me. I needed his body heat, the closeness to reach my peak and come crashing down in euphoria. If only we could be skin on skin, the sweat of our heated bodies consuming each other would make the moment all the more intoxicating.
My lips formed an O, ready to utter sounds of bliss into his shoulder.
Then his hand stilled, leaving the warmth of my soaking core.
“No, no, no,” I said out of breath. “Why did you stop?”
He unlatched my hand from around his neck and planted it on the bulge of his pants. The blues of his irises were as calm as a still lake on an early morning. “Because I want my cock to feel you come, not my fingers.”
I blinked. Not expecting him to be so blunt, yet show such vulnerability.
I cautiously stroked his dick over top of his pants, contemplating if I should follow my conscience or my hormones. He had to be huge. Mindy and I had talked about it before. There would be days where his tailored suits would fit him just right, and when he’d stand a certain way, you could see the infamous dick print. Now I had my hand wrapped around it.
He guided my hand to his belt, running his thumb along the clasp. It was obvious he wanted me to make the decision to undo his zipper.
I decided to give in, needing to tame the pent up sexual tension I apparently had acquired for my boss.
My hands were frantic now, hastily unbuckling his belt, not bothering to yank it through the loops. The button on his pants tugged free and I reached inside.
Craft hissed between his teeth and put his hands on his head. He watched my hands with intent, anxiously waiting for me to pull his cock out and watch what was going to happen next.
He was heavy in my hands, causing me to use my other hand to loosen his clothing and free him. He was thick and the longest I had ever seen in person. The smooth, silky feel of his shaft felt like heaven in my hand, and I wanted to rub him all over my body.
Craft smirked. “I’ll go slow.”
Of course he’d have a “big penis ego.”
Narrowing my eyes, I squeezed him, causing him to wince. “I don’t want it slow.” Spreading my legs and moving my hips, I aimed the tip of his cock to my heat. The soft skin instantly becoming warm and wet from the small touch. “Make me come.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I’m planning on it, but you’ll have to change your attitude.”
My hands grabbed his ass and forced him forward just enough to slip the tip inside of me. Setting both his hands on the table for strength, he fought my eagerness.
He ground his teeth. “Say please.”
“I’ll say please when you do,” I grimaced, wiggling my hips in frustration.
“I don’t say please.”
“That’s because you’re an asshole,” I grumbled in annoyance. Fuck him, I could get off with this contact. My clit was being stimulated, and that would suffice in a pleasurable orgasm just fine.
He smiled, holding his hips firmly in place. “I don’t remember that comment on the staff survey.”
I leaned backward, sighing in bliss at the new the angle. “Because you’re a dick and are fire happy... Yes…”
His hands found my hips, stilling my movement. “You’re right, that’s why I’m the boss.”
I fought against him, and he didn’t let me budge.
“Stop teasing me-” The air was sucked out of lungs mid-sentence.
In one fluid moment, he flipped me on the table to my front, raising me up on my knees and slamming his big cock inside of me.
I moaned out loud from the intensity.
“That’s right,” he grunted and thrust so he was completely filling me. His hand latched onto my hair, twisting it around his fist, gently pulling my head back so he could whisper in my ear, “I’m going to get fire happy real soon.”
What? Was he going to fire me?
I slammed back into him. “You fucking would.”
“All in due time, Ms. Neely.”
At this point, I didn’t even care. He felt too good inside of me. Besides, how would I be able to work with him after this anyway?
Might as well make it worth it, and fuck him over at the same time.
I rotated my hips in a circle, enjoying how my wall stretched to accommodate his size. He must have enjoyed the movement as well by the steady sigh that brushed my ear. The tension from him pulling my hair relaxed, guiding me down so my shoulders were on the desk, ass high in the connection with him.
His palms took hold of my hips and he began to move. His strokes were precise; clearly he was up for the challenge of making me come in the short amount of time.
“You’re so sexy like this,” he breathed, running a hand underneath my hiked up dress and along my spine. I wanted to be rid of my clothing completely, but that wouldn’t work out in the grand scheme of things. I’d need to make a quick getaway, and putting on my clothes would only take up time, and the awkward silence while we put our clothing on would be killer.
He grabbed a hold of my ass cheeks, giving them a wiggle. For a minute I thought he was going to smack them. The thought made me clench. I’d never been spanked before.
“Yeah… squeeze my dick like that,” he groaned, beginning to thrust harder.
“Keep that pace,” I hissed, wanting him to shut the hell up and finish the job.
He grabbed another hand full of my hair. The tug felt amazing, and I clenched him again. “You like it rough, don’t you?”
Our skin slapped together now, and I was on the very edge. I’d need to get there, because at this speed, no doubt he would come soon. I knew how men were. Get them going and they can’t control a damn thing. To hell with if he came before me, leaving me sexually frustrated and dripping with his semen. Two of the most obnoxious outcomes that happen with sex. Nope, not happening, not to me, and sure as shit not with Craft.
I reached between my legs, finding the sensitive bud that would bring me to release. My legs quivered as I touched myself, loving how when I massaged I could feel him gliding in and out of me.
I moaned into my forearm, stroking myself the way I needed to.
He leaned over me, his tie tickling my exposed lower back in the process. Suckles trailed along the back of my neck and to the shell of my ear. “Show me how you touch yourself.” His large hand covered mine, mimicking how I circled my clit.
The added pressure intensified the build-up, and the suddenly slower movement in and out that I originally didn’t want, now felt glorious. Slipping his hand underneath mine, he took control. “That’s it, let me do it. I want to make you explode.”
His voice was soft and sporadic in my ear, not matching the fluid movement of his hips and skilled fingers. He was surrounding me, his mouth traveling along my neck, his chin nudging the fabric of my dress across my shoulder where it was in his path.
I was so exposed, throbbing and on the brisk of orgasm. A few more strokes, and I was moaning into my forearm, squeezing his cock and drenching it with the release of my pleasure.
“Oh yeah,” he grunted, beginning to pump faster.
My head spun from the euphoric feeling, my body preparing to slow down and turn into mush, but it was still shaking with desire and pulsing from his precision and expertise. It was as if he’d worked my body over a million times, knowing exactly how I liked to be touched and where, performing the perfect amount of pressure to all of the right places.
He was amazing at more than marketing, and my greedy pussy wanted to suck him dry… but I had other plans.
He wasn’t going to get his, not from me, and sure as fuck not on his conference table.
Ignoring how amazing he felt pumping inside of me, I wiggled from underneath him, crawling on all fours to the other side of the table and hopping off in an ungraceful matter.
“What the fuck?” He called after me. His voice cracked, and I wished I had the guts to turn around and look at him.
I didn’t though, instead, I smoothed out my skirt and ran for the door, opening it frantically then slamming it closed behind me.