Page 50 of Open for Negotiation
His middle finger is tracing the seam of my body up and down, and he chuckles into the bend of my neck.
“You’re wet already. I’ve hardly even touched you. You must be desperate for me.”
His arrogance sends my eyes rolling skyward, “For all you know, that’s from the very hot conversation I was having with someone ELSE!” I cry out as he pulls my panties aside and pinches my clit between his thumb and index finger.
“Liar,” he growls into my ear and I’m putty in his hands. “There’s no one else in this world who could make you feel like this. You’d do anything for me right now.” His finger begins to swirl over my clit, and I shamelessly grind my hips, searching for even more contact, even more friction.
“So… full… of… yourself,” I argue between breaths and moans.
He’s right, though.
No one else in my life has ever made me feel this way, has ever made me feel so wanton, but I’ll be damned if I ever admit that to him.
Getting him to prove it to me feels too good.
My legs begin to tremble and my knees feel as though they may buckle at any moment. I’m only being held upright by the weight of his body behind mine, pinning me to the counter.
“I don’t have to be full of myself when I can feel the proof on my fingers. Hear the proof in your sighs of pleasure.” I swear to God, I nearly come on the spot when he makes his next move. “I can taste the proof.” He pulls his hand from my panties and slides his finger into his mouth with a satisfied mmm. “On my fingers.”
I groan in frustration at the lost contact, but in pleasure at the sight of him sucking my taste from his digits.
“Admit it,” he says as he forcefully spins me around and hoists me up onto my countertop. “Tell me I’m the only one who has ever made you feel this good.”
“You’re not even doing anything to me anymore. How can I admit it?” I goad with a smirk, curling my fingers into his shirt to yank him forward between my spread legs.
“Since when do you have such a smart mouth on you, huh?” He slides his large hands under my legs and grips behind my knees, pulling my thighs apart.
I gasp and drop my hands to hold on to the edge of the marble. “You bring it out of me.”
“There’s something that I’ve wanted to do since the moment I tasted your lips for the first time.”
I push myself up when he begins to tug at my yoga pants, giving me the room he needs to slide them down my legs and toss them to the floor.
“And what is that?” I try to move my thighs back together when I feel the cool air hit the heated skin there, but his hold on me prevents it.
“This.” He lifts my legs and spreads them even farther apart before bending slightly at the waist and sliding his tongue up the seam of my pussy.
“Oh fuck,” I groan, slapping my hand against the counter. I’m wide open, in the middle of my kitchen, with my boss’s head between my legs, and I’ve never been more comfortable. Everything he does makes me feel wanted, desired. There’s not an ounce of regret in me right now.
“Mmm,” he pulls away for a moment and kisses my inner thigh, “delicious.”
“Don’t stop,” I stare down at him, able to see everything from this angle, and it’s erotic as fuck. “Please don’t stop.”
“Then admit it.” He slides the tip of his nose around my clit. “Admit no one makes you feel this way but me.”
“Arrogance isn’t a good trait to have, Mr. Duke.” I hardly finish my sentence before he slides two fingers into me, hooking them upward to find that sensitive spot inside.
“I’m sorry? I think you said, Yes I admit it, incorrectly.”
I don’t even have to see his face to know that he’s smirking like the devil he is.
“Oh God.” I drop my head back again, every muscle in my body is pulsing, contracting, as the race to orgasm begins.
“Don’t give him credit for this, baby,” he whispers before sucking my clit between his lips.
That. Cracks. Me. Wide. Open.
My thighs tremble and my back arches in a way it never has before. All I can see is a kaleidoscope of colors before my eyes. I don’t exist anymore; my soul is pushing itself outside of my body with each contraction of my inner muscles around his finger.
