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He wanted me.
Not that slut I’d seen on our wedding day.
Not a random whore.
He wantedme.
“I do have some work to do,” he murmured, “and you? You’re going to hump the desk while Manhattan watches.”
My cheeks flushed with heat, and I knew this was both a punishment and a gift for what I’d told him about Maxim.
This was about him replacing Maxim in that memory, and it was about giving me what I needed.
I didn’t argue, even though I was embarrassed.
“I never did it naked,” I whispered, head ducked.
“No, but you will for me. That’s why your panties are on,” he said matter-of-factly, as he tapped my thigh and directed, “Go on, get.”
Shivering a little, I scrambled to my feet, then moved around the desk as he turned on the computer that sat at the edge of the glass surface. It wasn’t a sharp corner, more of a blunt one, and I propped myself on the edge, hitching my pussy above it.
When I looked at him, I saw he was focused on the screen, so I stared outside, and my eyes flared wide when I saw some people in the opposite building. They were having a meeting. Their focus wasn’t on me, but it felt like it was.
My heartrate surged, but so did my arousal. And I rocked my hips. Rubbing hard, grinding down into the corner. It was weird, but he wanted me weird.
He wanted me.
I felt my skin prickle again as I used the desk to get myself off. Behind my panties, my flesh grew impossibly slick, and I knew the white fabric was probably going translucent.
Feeling myself getting a little frantic when I could sense how close I was, and how soon, I whimpered, and let my gaze flicker between Eoghan and the meeting across the way.
When I saw he wasn’t watching, not at all, his fingers tapping on the keyboard, my mouth worked.
Did he want me to come?
Or didn’t he?
I whimpered, “Eoghan?”
He hushed me. “I’m busy.”
“B-But…”
“But nothing. I’m busy.”
His tone was harder, and that made me more uncertain. Did he want me to get off? He hadn’t said the words, hadn’t told me to. But I needed it.
Badly.
I shuddered as I ground down on my clit with a force that would normally not cause an orgasm, but I could no more stop the outpouring of ecstasy that washed through me than I could stop my heart from taking its next beat.
The cry that escaped me was glorious. I’d done this before twice. Each time it had been hurried and shame filled, and I’d had to be quiet.
Now?
I could be noisy.
I loved being noisy.
