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“At Brooke’s wedding. When we were dancing.” After I asked you to fuck me.
“Huh.” He cocks his head as if he has no clue how that happened. “In any case, I thought I might warn you. Will that be a dealbreaker for you?”
“I just don’t see how we can be intimate without kissing. Everything kind of starts out with that, doesn’t it?”
He just continues to level me a bland look, making me feel like I’m explaining advanced biology to a brick wall.
“You did pretty well the last time, in your apartment.” Ryan counters.
True. He didn’t actually kiss me. He didn’t even look at me, and I came harder than I’ve ever done.
“I promise you won’t miss it,” he coaxes.
“Well, now that I know it’s off the table, I’m sure I will.”
“Come here then. Tell me if this feels any different.” He pulls me from my seat and then leads me around to his side of the desk.
I watch as he takes off his suit jacket, puts it on a nearby coat hanger, then rolls up his sleeves. My eyes eagerly roam over his crisp white shirt and the muscles clearly delineated under it. “What are you doing?”
“Offering you a test drive.”
Chapter Ten
Stella
Ryan drops into his chair and gestures for me to sit on his lap.
“Ryan, we’re in your office!” I protest.
“I’m aware of that. Come here, Stella. Let me show you something.”
When I don’t move, he gently pulls me onto his lap, facing his desk, my back against his chest.
“Tell me if you don’t like anything.”
Heart in my throat, I can only nod.
In a smooth motion, he spreads my thighs apart to straddle both of his, then drags up my skirt, bunching it at my waist. His fingers trail over my thighs higher and higher toward to my already damp core.
My breath hitches with anticipation as she reaches the top of my thighs. But, instead of pulling the crotch of my drenched panties aside, he changes course. His hands go to untuck my shirt and then slowly start work on the buttons while I work hard to control my breathing.
When my shirt falls open, his fingertips run over my lace-covered breasts and follow the dip of my waist and belly as if he’s trying to commit my curves to memory without looking. It feels like live wires are being dragged against my skin.
It’s been months since I was touched like this, and I can’t even remember it feeling this good. “Too slow” I complain, reaching for his hands to pull them over my achy breasts.
He drags down the lace of my bra and pinches my hard nipples and I gasp, heat pooling in my core. I start to rock my hips against him, forgetting my earlier misgivings about being in his office. “Faster.” I moan, needing to get off right now.
“Rub your clit,” he commands.
I don’t want to touch myself. Over the past six months I’ve been dreaming of the way his fingers felt on me, inside me. I’d much rather he touch me. “I thought you wanted to show me something.” I whine.
“Do it, Stella.”
I close my eyes and grit my teeth against the overwhelming need to obey him. When I hesitate Ryan gently pulls and rolls my nipples between his thumb and index finger, making me moan. This time I can’t help doing as he says, I need to come now.
The moment I reach into my folds, he spreads his thighs, and mine, wider. Then he starts to pinch my nipples hard and fast sending bolts of pleasure to my clit. I stiffen and cry out, my core rippling against nothing. Unable to clench my thighs to chase the feeling, I rub my clit faster, needing the relief of an orgasm so bad I sob.
He doesn’t stop his torture on my nipples until I start to jerk in climax. “Please fuck me, Ryan” I beg, feeling empty even while coming hard.
