Page 8 of Bound to the CEO

Dragging me over to what’s left, he slides his finger into the thick frosting and brings it up to my lips. I close my eyes as I open my mouth, sucking his digit into me. The saccharine sweetness of the frosting gives way to the salty taste of his skin, and I can’t help the moan that wells up in my throat.

Once more, he slides his hand down, fisting my gown. Pulling back, I shake my head in earnest. “Others will see.”

“Not if they know what’s good for them. They should all have their heads buried in their desks.”

I glance about, noting the open blinds. It’s true that everyone seems to be working, but all it would take is someone looking up, even innocently, to see him touching my body so intimately.

“Please,” the words claw from my throat in a desperate whine. “I still work with these people.”

With a sigh, he drops his hand. “Go change and come right back.”

Nodding my thanks, I rush out of the room, cheeks aflame. I was so close to letting him touch me, not caring what anyone else thought. What I need is a cold shower to get my head on straight. But right now, I’ll settle for comfortable clothing and a moment to myself.

Locking the door behind me, I spy the bag on my desk. Some designer name I don’t recognize gleams up at me from the shiny plastic. And that’s when it hits me. I’m married, but not only that, I’m married to a man with money. Money with a capital M.

Though my father had probably just as much as Mr. Daniels, he didn’t really spoil or indulge me. Even now that all his money is no longer lying in trust, and I have full access, I haven’t allowed myself to spend any more than necessary to pay the bills and comfortably survive.

However, I’m with a man that seems to want to spoil me, and I’m not sure how to receive it. Digging through the bag, I pull out a short skirt, a soft velvety top, and a pair of dark heels to complete the look. At least they’re clothes I’d wear normally, even if they’re of better quality.

Yanking off the wedding dress, I stand there in my sky-blue bra. How ironic that today, of all days, I happen to have something blue already on hand. Thrusting those thoughts out of my head, I search the bag for underwear and groan as I find nothing.

My current panty didn’t work with the dress, and I didn’t think of wearing a thong. So I took them off and left them with my clothes. Though it made things much simpler when Mr. Daniels touched me in the car, it will make working nearly unbearable.

Perhaps if I tell him of my current predicament, he’ll let me go grab a pair and come back. However, as I make my way to the conference room, noting how all the blinds are currently down, I realize I may not get the chance.

Arousal gathers between my thighs, and again, I curse my lack of foresight. From now on, there will be not only a vibrator but several types of panties left at the office in case I need it. Gritting my teeth, I open the door and slip in, my pulse quickening as I stare up at my husband.

His jacket lies draped over the table. His sleeves are rolled up, revealing massive, veiny forearms. Moisture dries up from my mouth as I stare at him, taking in the crisp hairs on his chest, revealed by his half-opened shirt.

“Lock the door behind you.”

“But the conference call…”

“Then you better hurry and obey me.” Pressing my lips together, I lock the door, my fingers trembling. I turn, watching him slowly curl his finger, motioning for me to come to him. “Don’t worry, my skittish wife. No one will dare intrude.”

“I’m not worried about that. Not exactly.”

“Oh?”

“I- uh. What exactly do you have planned for me?”

His lips split into a wolfish grin. “More than you can imagine. But first, I want you to enjoy some more of our wedding cake.”

Before I can respond, he grabs me by the waist and plops me onto the table. I open my mouth, knowing full well he plans to tease me some more. Once again, he slides his fingers into the frosting and brings it up to my lips. As I suck him inside, he pushes me backward until I’m lying down with my legs hanging over the table.

He presses his fingers deep inside my mouth, rubbing my tongue as he urges my knees apart with his free hand. Helpless, I let my thighs fall open, desperately needing his touch to stop the burn deep inside.

However, instead of fingering me like I thought, the warmth of his breath stirs the crisp hairs at the top of my mound. I groan as his scalding tongue swipes across my clit. It’s relief, but not enough.

I buck my hips into the air, silently begging for more. Moaning around his thick fingers, I suck even harder, doing my best to translate my urgency with my actions.

“That’s right, my little wanton,” he groans against my heated flesh. “Lick me clean while I enjoy my own wedding day dessert.”

CHAPTER 5

Jeffrey

Her thighs quiver around my head as I lean in to lick her again. God, but she really does taste as good as she smells. The little hint I got when I licked my fingers is nothing compared to the source.