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Shit.
I had no control over what happened next, I inadvertently moaned from the familiar feel of him on top of me. To make matters much worse, I felt his dick get hard as he brushed his lips against my neck before our eyes connected with one another.
I should have stopped him.
I should have shoved him away.
I should have said something.
I did none of those things.
Instead, in a flash, my mind was in another place and time where he’d make love to me like this.
I’d only been with two men, but sex was Elias always felt like we were making love. It didn’t matter if we were being rough or adventurous or evening fucking, it always felt like making love. For some reason, I thought about how he claimed my virginity and even though it was my first-time having sex, he still made me come for him.
Meeting his intense, brazen stare, I finally found my voice and stressed, “This is so unprofessional, Mr. Sinclair.”
“Is that what you call me when my cock is on your pussy?”
I threatened, “I could report you to HR for this.”
“When it comes to you, Miss Locke. I’m the only man you report to.”
He growled, pinning my hands above my head and I hated how much I loved it.
“This was always one of my favorite positions to make love to you in.”
This was another thing about this man, he always called our sex making love. No matter the position, location, or intensity…
It was always making love.
“Where’s my good girl?” he rasped, close to my mouth. “You remember, beauty? How you’d claw the sheets, and beg me to make you come for me? Huh? Do you remember the feel of me inside you?”
His dirty mouth still did all sorts of things to my core, and I could feel my panties start getting wet.
Damn him.
It was only the first day of me technically on the job and he was already messing with my mind in a sexual way which I hadn’t expected for one second. Maybe I was being naive, but I didn’t think I’d let him pull this stunt on me. This was exactly what he wanted and loathed that I was giving him the satisfaction.
“What do you want from me, Elias?”
“Calling me by my name is a good start.”
“Are you going to get off me now?”
“Do you want me to get off you?”
“Don’t ask a question with a question.”
“Yet you don’t answer mine.”
I half moaned, “Elias, please…”
Skimming his lips on the front of my neck, he growled, “I love it when you say my name like that.”
I played the only card I had left, murmuring, “I won’t play this game with you.”
“I’m not playing any games.”
