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“Because I’ll spend all my time thinking about the fun we had,” he answered.
My fingers threaded through his hair at the back of his head. “At least you’d be sitting at your desk,” I reasoned.
His eyes roamed over my face for a long time. “You know what? I can’t conclusively say if you’re right or not, but there’s only one way to find out.”
Without giving it another thought, Wyatt lifted me in his arms, carried me to his desk, and sat me down on the edge of it. Then he moved to the door, closed it, and flipped the lock.
He might not have been wearing his suit, but there was no mistaking who the boss was in this situation as Wyatt began stalking toward me again, with a hint of a grin on his face.
When he was standing in front of me, he placed a hand on each of my bare knees and urged them apart so he could step between them. His hands slid up my thighs, pushing the hem of my dress up as they went.
My hands flew behind me, my palms landing on the clean surface of the desk to steady me and keep me upright. As Wyatt’s hands went farther north, I squirmed uncontrollably.
Wyatt leaned his head down and whispered in my ear, “I get the feeling that you wearing this dress had little to do with the weather and everything to do with what you wanted me to be able to easily give you today.”
Just as he bit down gently on my earlobe, I felt his fingers dip between my thighs and touch me through my underwear. A shiver ran down my spine, Wyatt’s fingers applying pressure and circling.
A ragged moan escaped me. “Wyatt.”
Wyatt’s other hand left my thigh, went to my hair, and gripped it firmly to tug my head back. Then his mouth was on my throat. He hadn’t relented with the movement of his fingers between my legs.
We might have been here in his office where he excelled at doing whatever he needed to do for this company, but I didn’t think there was anything Wyatt did better than knowing precisely what to do to please me.
Between the way he touched me, kissed me, and teased me, it took him almost no time to have me begging him for more.
“Please,” I whimpered.
I felt his lips form a smile against the skin on my throat. He trailed them back up toward my ear as he slipped his hand into my underwear. I had no choice but to fall back onto my forearms.
Without my underwear in the way, Wyatt’s touch was setting fire to my skin. I was a mess of nerves, desperation, and desire. As he slid one finger inside me, Wyatt whispered his question. “What do you want, Rhea?”
“More. Please, Wyatt, more.”
His finger drove in and out while his thumb pressed in and circled my clit, both delivering a delicious assault and expertly building me up.
It was most he’d given me yet, but it still wasn’t enough. I wanted all of him. Unfortunately, I couldn’t begin to ask for that, because it was taking everything in me to continue breathing.
But as I was quickly learning was the case with Wyatt, he always seemed to know precisely what I needed and would do anything to give it to me.
“You want me inside you?” he asked.
All I could manage to do was nod my head as Wyatt worked his fingers harder between my legs. It was building… building… I was nearly there when he stopped. Wyatt pulled his fingers from my body, my orgasm fading away.
“No,” I cried out.
He smiled at me while he worked at the fly of his jeans to free himself. When he’d done that, he yanked my panties down my legs and rubbed the head of his cock against me. “I thought you wanted this instead.”
Leaning my weight into one arm, I reached down between my legs and curled my fingers around him. “Wyatt, please,” I pleaded with him.
“I need a condom, babe,” he said, reaching into his back pocket.
I stroked him as I urged my hips up and attempted to find relief. “Hurry.”
Once he opened the condom packet, he rolled it on, and surged forward. I was back on both forearms, my head dropped back, and Wyatt let out a groan. He waited barely three or four seconds before his hands went to my hips, and he began thrusting hard.
Wyatt and I had done it fast. We’d done it slow. We’d changed positions and done it in several places throughout the house.
It was always good. Always great. And I loved everything he gave me and how he communicated how much he felt for me.
