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Leaning forward over her, he whispered, “Tell me if it’s too much.”
“I’m fine,” she responded with a shaky breath. “What… what else was in your fantasy?”
Funny she should ask.
His hand reared back and slapped her other cheek. “That’s for sucking on all those popsicles the summer you developed breasts.”
His hand came down again, and her lower body jumped at the contact. “That’s for those goddamned bikini bottoms, the ones with the gold metal tips on the strings freshman year.”
Then another slap that garnered a long, beautiful moan. “That’s for giving Grant a fucking lap dance while I watched.”
He was rock-hard and beyond aroused and thoroughly fucked from the way she was enjoying her punishment.
Blinking, he shoved two fingers inside of her and they were instantly drenched, her insides clenching them as if trying to pull them in even farther. He leaned toward her, pulling them almost all the way out, and then shoved them back inside, saying, “And that’s for fucking me while I was stoned, and couldn’t remember a goddamned thing.”
She reached toward the opposite side of the desk and managed to grab the edge with both hands.
“What else?” she gasped as if to egg him on.
He took advantage of her added stability and pulled her by her hips so she was just as he had fantasized, both cheeks high in the air and with a pretty blush on them from his hand, her sex completely exposed to him.
“If you make a sound, I stop,” he forewarned. Before she could respond, he was pulling her knees closer to the edge. Palming her cheeks as he took in the arousal running down her thighs, feeling like a caveman.
Purely led by base instincts, he felt dizzy, wanting nothing more than to spend the afternoon smoking a cigar while watching her juices slide down each leg to the desktop, putting his stogie down long enough to swat each cheek once again for her lifelong transgressions and fingering her to near orgasm.
His prefrontal cortex had stuck around long enough for him to have the good sense to lock the door. As soon as that rational activity was performed, all thought processes began to reside from the darkest most primitive part of his brain stem. Making responsible, self-controlled decisions no longer a logical driving force. Rather, making this obstinate woman beg for release and orgasm his only objective.
Running the base of his palm down her spine, causing her to arch more, he leaned toward her and ran his tongue up and down her slit, tasting her for the first time.
He sucked and laved, nipped her clit, and felt her writhe beneath him. Then, her forehead moved back and forth on the desk as if overwhelmed with sensation, her body bucking and thrusting rhythmically against his mouth and then his hand.
Making Birdie Wellborn come was nothing short of miraculous, transcendental, awe-inspiring.
Pausing his ministrations, to give her a moment of respite, he watched her as she pursed her lips as if to keep from moaning and he reveled in his ability to finally control this woman’s mouth.
His prefrontal cortex returned as he became concerned about the pressure on her knees, so he gently allowed her legs down until they touched the floor, and then, slowly pulled her up until she leaned against him. Taking her by the shoulders, he turned her around, her body’s movement reminding him of that of a marionette. Willing, yet barely able to move without his hands manipulating her.
Her hair was everywhere. She blew at a few tendrils as if her arms were too leaden to do the job for her.
This time he helped her dress, leaning her against the desk as he found her bra and helped her into it, and then her blouse. Going down to his knees, she held on to his shoulders as he pulled on her panties and then gently smoothed her skirt back down. Placing each shoe, one from each corner of the room, back on her feet.
“Lucas,” she said, the vulnerable lilt to her voice capturing his attention. “Why won’t you kiss me?”
He looked up at her face that was still red, one side more so than the other where her cheek had lain against the desk and he suddenly felt remorse.
“I did,” he rebutted, skating his hand under her skirt and touching where he had kissed her.
As he stood, she leaned toward him as if to kiss him on the mouth and he turned his head to the side, picking her purse up from the floor, and placing the strap over her shoulder.
“I’ll let you know if a job opens up.”
