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“I told you,” I rumble. “I fucking told you.”
“Oh God,” she cries out when my hand roughly pushes into her panties. I dive my fingers through her slick pussy lips, seeking out her wet hole. My two fingers easily part her flesh, proving to her just how turned on she is. The only sounds are the slippery ones of my fingers fucking her and the rattled breaths escaping her. My dick aches, desperate to replace my fingers and fuck her.
“You’re going to come,” I threaten, making my voice come out harsh and demanding, “or I’ll fucking kill you.”
I wait for the word.
Hush.
Say it, Little Red.
“Please don’t kill me,” she whimpers.
I fuck her tight cunt with my fingers, bringing her nearer and nearer to ecstasy with each brush against her g-spot. Her body writhes and thrashes, her hands trying and failing to break free from my hold. I rub my thumb over her clit as I intensify my efforts. With a strangled scream, she detonates. Like a bomb. A beautiful explosion. Brilliant and awe-inspiring. I wish it weren’t pitch dark so I could see the color of her skin, the flutter of her lashes against her cheeks, the part of her plump lips.
As soon as she comes down, I pull my fingers from her pussy, bring them to my lips, and make a great, loud show of sucking her juices off me. She tastes good, and I groan to let her know just that.
Dragging my wet fingers over her lips, I make her taste the remnants of her pleasure mixed with my saliva that probably has a lingering hint of whisky. Our scents together are intoxicating. I brush her lips until they’re wet, then replace my fingers with my mouth. Her lips part, allowing me entry. My tongue is demanding as I taste her. I like having her sprawled out over my desk with her thighs spread. Her wet panties are no doubt soaking the front of my slacks, but I don’t give a fuck. I want to wear her desire on me. With her wrists still bound by my hand, she’s trapped like she should be. I tighten my grip, reminding her I’m the one physically calling the shots.
I nip at her bottom lip and breathe against her. “When I fuck you, it’s going to make you cry.”
Her back arches, making her tits press into my chest. “I’m not fucking you, you monster,” she lies, her words coming out as a hiss.
I lick her bottom lip and grind my dick against her pussy. “You’ll do whatever I tell you to do because you can’t get away. You’re trapped, Little Red. Mine.”
I steal another long, hard kiss as I rub against her with my cock. It’s easy to play her body because it’s so damn receptive to me. Her tiny breaths of pleasure and whines of need teach me more easily than her words ever could. I fuck her with our clothes on, and it feels nearly as good. If I keep at it, I’ll nut in my pants. As much as I want to do this until I come, I refrain and pull away, releasing her.
“What are we doing now?” she whispers.
“I’m going to work,” I tell her. “And you’re going home.”
I grab both her wrists once more and pin them to the table on either side of her head. Her pulse jumps wildly beneath my thumbs.
“If you don’t go home now, Quinn,” I warn her, “I’m going to fuck you. And honestly, we both know it’s not the time.”
“Okay,” she admits, her voice shaking.
“I like the way you taste.” I can’t help but smile in the dark.
A small laugh escapes her. “Oh.”
“Yeah, oh.”
Reaching over, I blindly feel for my desk lamp and turn it on. Yellow light bathes my little victim. Her eyes are hooded, her lashes blinking lazily at me. Brown hair that was once radiant is now messy as fuck all around her head. Fat, plump lips are puckered, begging for more kisses. I want to fully erase the red lipstick and replace it with me—my taste, my scent, my cum. With each breath she takes, her tits jiggle. I look forward to the day I can ravish them with my teeth. Releasing her hands, I rise to my full height, raking my gaze down the rest of her body. Her black panties are askew and clearly drenched. My dick strains against my slacks.
Fuck, she is a lesson in self-control.
I take her hands and pull her to her feet, steadying her wobbly legs. For several minutes, I simply stare at her, drinking in her soft, pretty features. Her wide, green eyes. The innocence that ripples from her despite the depravity in what we just did. When I’m sure she won’t collapse, I let go of one of her hands to smooth out her hair. She closes her eyes, tilting her head up, allowing my gentle touch.
