Just me and him.
Alone together.
“I remember, sir.” I manage to say.
If anything could communicate the message that I can’t seem to find the words or courage for, it would be the skirt.
Still, my chest squeezes when his steps bring him directly in front of my chair. He towers above me, his tall frame casting a long shadow, but my body heats up rather than cools down.
One of his large hands lowers to his belt which he deftly unbuckles and, with one powerful jerk, removes from his pant loops. He doubles the smooth leather in his grip, and jerks his hands apart in a delicious snap of leather.
I gasp.
He grins.
“I told you I would fuck you in it.”
I shift in my seat, pressing my hungry thighs together, not exactly sure what he has planned, but thrilled at the prospect of finding out. He puts the edge of the belt under my chin, andtilts my head up. Taking my attention from the bulge already growing in his pants, and guiding my gaze to meet his big brown eyes.
“Give me your underwear,” he demands.
“Wha—what?” I stammer out.
He leans down, so close that his breath brushes my cheek. “Your panties. Give them to me. I don’t want anything in my way this time.”
He steps back, arms folded against his wide chest, the buttons on his shirt strain under the tension.
I suck in a small breath, but scramble to obey. Shimmying my underwear down, standing to step out of them without removing my skirt.
He holds out his hand. “Hand them over.”
I reach out to drop them into his open palm only to notice that my hand is shaking slightly.
“Good girl,” he purrs, closing his fist around the fabric, “And they are already so wet for me.”
“Practically ruined,” I agree.
He holds his fist up to his nose, inhaling deeply. A motion that has my pulse pounding between my thighs, and then slips the underwear into his pocket.
He wraps his large hand around the back of my neck, cradling my head in his warm hand; he dips down to slant his mouth over mine in a perfect deep claiming kiss. His tongue sliding into my mouth, demanding more from me.
He hasn’t been like this before, I haven’t felt this dark intensity from him, this promise of how it will be when he truly lets go; when I am wholly at his mercy. This is the male who chased me down, and in this moment my every sense is filled with him, his masculine smell, his dark taste, his warm touch, the sound of the low growl building in his chest. His hand tugs deep in my hair and pulls a moan from my throat.
He pulls back. “Shh, you don’t want the whole office to hear you getting fucked by your boss do you?”
“No, sir,” I say quietly.
He chuckles, and circles me slowly like I am prey. His hand grazes lightly along my waist as he picks a position, standing behind me. He dips his face down, to press his nose into the crook of my neck, inhaling me deeply.
“You are already wet and ready to get fucked aren’t you?” he murmurs. “My eager beast.”
I shiver beneath him, and nod.
His hand pull up my skirt, slowly, exposing more of me until his fingers can trace across the bare skin of my thighs and dip between my legs. He kisses my neck as his fingers slowly explore me, and when his roving thumb glances across my clit. I let out another moan of excitement.
“Are you sure you can be quiet for me, my beast?” he asks.
“Yes, sir,” I whisper.
