Total pages in book: 161
Estimated words: 154890 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 620(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 154890 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 620(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
And she will, but I turn down the volume on my consciousness for now.
“Go on, little fly. Read.”
“I must not touch myself when I’m at work.” I hear her swallow. Imagine her licking her lips. It makes me wonder which part of that turns her on—the doing or the getting caught?—it makes me wonder if her pussy is pulsing emptily. “Not without permission.”
“Well done.” I bring my hand down on her right bum cheek, hard and fast.
“Oh!”
“Read it again.”
“I must not… jeez!” My second slap turns her skin a fresh pink. “I must not t-touch myself when I’m at work.” My third a slightly sharper sting and causes her to suck in sharply. I don’t worry that it might’ve been too much as she picks up where she left off in a breathy tone. “Without an audience.”
“Without permission,” I correct, taking her flesh in both my hands. I squeeze and need, relishing her moans as she drops her head. And that answers my earlier question. “Freudian slip, my love?”
“Without my boss as an audience.” Her words are muffled as she drops her forehead to the desk, pressing back into my hands.
“And anyone in the vicinity who might happen to use a telescope.”
“What?” Her head jerks up, her worried glance sliding over her shoulder.
I use my hand to turn her head. “Keep going.”
“I must not…”
I know she hears the soft zvvt of my zipper, the rest of her words slightly garbled as I press the head to the very center of her.
“I must not—”
It’s as far as she gets before I drive myself home with a lust-soaked groan.
“Oh yes!” Her hips rock back, chasing my retreat, and I don’t fucking know where to put my hands. The curve of her hip? The swell of her arse. I want it all. I want to touch, own, devour as I begin to fuck her solidly.
“Read,” I growl, slapping her arse again, making her internal walls greedy.
“I must not… oh, you feel so big.”
“Compliments are unnecessary. This isn’t about your enjoyment.”
She stretches like a cat beneath me, the paper still held between her two hands. I pull back at the sight of her, my cock hard and glistening between us.
“Fuck!” With a snap of my hips, I drive myself inside her, my fingers leaving red marks on her hips. “The words, Amelia. Read the fucking words.”
“I must not… I must not… Oh, I think I’m going to.”
I press my palm flat next to her head and cover her body with mine. “Your position here depends on you coming only when I tell you to.”
“Oh God, Whit. I don’t think I can.”
“Yes. Yes, you can. Concentrate,” I grate out.
In profile, her gaze seems to turn inward, her teeth digging into her bottom lip as I continue to fuck her, slow and steadily.
“That’s it, good girl. I knew you could do it.” God, that fucking blush will be the end of me. “But can you do it like this?” Reaching for the clitoral vibe she’s just cleaned, I flick it on, and cradling it in my palm, I press it between her legs.
“Fuck!” she cries, crumpling the paper as she almost collapses under me.
I actually laugh out loud, the sound breaking free from my chest with absolutely pure fucking delight. “So that’s what it takes to get you to curse?” I drive myself inside her again. “Fucking technology.”
“L… l… literally?”
“Clitorally,” I amend, slipping the softly pointed end deeper.
“Oh. Oh. Oh!”
“No coming. Not until I say so.”
“Can’t… fuck! Sh… shiver my timbers!”
I laugh again. Laugh and fuck and pressure her joyously. This is the best way ever to spend a weekday afternoon. Of course, as though the thought summons reality, her phone dances across the desk. As name flashes up on screen, an evil thought skitters from my brain. Reaching out, I accept the call and flick it to loudspeaker.
“No!” Amelia whines, dropping her head.
“Mimi?” Brin’s voice drifts out from the speaker. “Are you okay?”
“I’m f-f finnne.” Her answer stutters with my thrusts. I’ll say she is. “I just dropped something.”
“Yeah,” I whisper in her ear. “The f-bomb.”
“Oh, okay,” Brin answers. “I’m just calling to apologize for not turning up on Monday.”
Monday? What Monday? Using my middle finger, I press the clit vibrator hard against her and give another flex of my hips.
“Are you still there?”
“Mm-hmm.” The noise carries, despite how she seems to be biting her forearm.
“I meant for coffee. I was going to take you for one of those cakes, remember?”
The hostility drops out of me because I’ve already beat him to it. I’ve beat him to all the things.
“I remember,” she squeaks. “No worries. That’s okay. Sorry, I have to go now. I’m kind of in the middle of something big!”
“Yeah, you are,” I assert as her finger ends the call. “You’re such a good girl.”