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He paused. No more trailing her slit, only the heavy weight of his digit poised a little above her yearning clit. She tried to wriggle, to produce her own rubbing. His other arm traveled down her leg, the fingers grasping above her knee even more tightly.
“No moving, Dafna.” His timbre descended lower.
“Erez…” He shuddered.
“I love hearing my name.” It earned her renewed stroking. His thick finger dipped inside her, then came out, back to her slit, crushing her clit. He lifted her a little and thrust his finger deeper. Held in a forceful vise, her movements were as restricted as if she was bound. Ilan had wanted to tie her up, and she’d refused, but Erez was different. As if controlling her meant he wanted her badly, that it was part of the foreplay, but not essential.
Also–he wasn’t her husband.
The pressure of his arms lessened, and now she could move a little, could guide him towards the best angle. His fingers were bent inside her now, rubbing her in just the right spot, their touch expert, making her climb higher and higher. He held her in his embrace, lifting her from the bench, her own personal sex hammock. She accepted her passivity in a way that she had never managed before. She simply let go. His fingers rubbed and thrust and her walls clenched around them involuntarily.
“Say what you need.”
“More, more, more,” she told him dumbly. “More!”
He pressed hard against that one spot that drove her nuts. She burrowed her nose into his neck, and licked him, reaching for some control. He growled, she felt the sound as it vibrated in his throat. The pressure inside her grew immeasurably until she had to bite her lips to stop herself from groaning out loud. From calling out his name. She was terrified of getting caught, the fear turning into a potent aphrodisiac. The more she tried to hold it in, the less control she had, until she lost it completely and came unraveled. She dug into his broad shoulder, clenched around his clever fingers, and exploded.
“Ohhh…” She breathed hard, hit by waves of pleasure.
“You're mine to pleasure.” He nibbled her ear.
“Yes.” Her mind swirled with her orgasm.
“I’m your Pleasure Dom,” Erez said.
Every happy lax muscle became rigid. A bucket of ice water couldn’t have had a stronger effect than that one word: Dom.
“What did you say? Are you…are you a Dom?” she stuttered, confused, hurt, shuddering, tumbling down from her orgasm.
“For you. You bring it out of me.” He sounded very pleased with himself. “You like it, right?”
Dafna was cold all over with humiliation. She let this man finger her in her workplace. Where she was VP. His jeans were bulged where his cock stretched them. It was all lurid and dirty, she needed to get away. She wriggled in his hold, trying to free herself.
“What is it?” He was flushed, his chest heaving with short hard breaths. He freed one arm from behind her, then the other from underneath her, and sent his long legs to the side, sidling out of the booth. He stood to the side, making room for her to pass. With shaking hands, she straightened her skirt, tucked in her shirt, arranged her hair.
“What is it, Dafna? What did I do wrong? It’s just sex talk. You seemed to like it…”
But talking while having sex carried a deeper meaning relating to the power play between a couple.
“Please don’t…don’t. I…” She halted. Covered her mouth. She didn’t know how to explain, how to tell him about her past.
The familiar Kisharti corridor brought her back to her senses. Cool thinking was coming back to her, her professionalism re-asserted itself. She needed his good opinion. He could write a bad review on Kisharti, like any scorned man, coming back at a woman who denied them. Her gut feeling told her he wasn’t like that, but she didn’t know him that well, and didn’t want to take the chance.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s my fault, I guess. For letting you go this far.”
His chest heaved up and down, but he remained quiet.
“You still have your job here: to give us a glowing review.” She smiled a phony smile, regretting her words immediately. His lips pressed together, then he let out a heavy sigh.
“It won’t affect my due diligence, Dafna.” There was no color in his voice, no emotion. “And if it’s all the same to you, I think we’ve done all the liaison-ing I need.”
She turned and walked fast to her office, not looking back.
Chapter 19
Morning Coffee
Dafna was in the kitchen, alone, with her back to him. He debated whether to go on walking and avoid her, as he had done the past twelve days, ever since The Thinking Nook.
