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“Alanna,” he whispers. He strokes my cheek with the back of his fingers, his eyes on mine. “My love, is everything okay?”
Before I can answer, we’re interrupted by a knock on the door. I jump off Silas’s lap mere seconds before Amy walks in, her eyes moving between the two of us. She smiles with barely suppressed excitement and Silas sends her a warning look.
“This needs your signature,” she says, handing him a document. “No rush! I’ll come get it later.”
She smirks as she walks back out, and I glance at Silas. “What was that all about?”
Si shakes his head, a reluctant smile on his face. “She loves our love story. Thinks someone should write a book about it someday. She acts like we’re her personal Telenovela or some shit. Honestly, I ought to fire her, but I’m pretty sure the firm would collapse if I did that.”
“A book, huh?”
Si smiles at me and brushes a strand of my hair behind my ear. “Now where were we? I think you were about to replicate the recent attack we only barely managed to stop.”
Disappointment washes over me as I force a smile onto my face. “Right,” I murmur. “Of course.”
I bend over Silas’s desk to reach his keyboard and start typing, forcing myself to focus on our work. I’ve been absentminded all day because of the words Silas whispered last night, and I should know better. We’re at the office, after all.
Silas rolls his chair back and I glance at him over my shoulder, only to find him smirking at me. He grabs the hem of my skirt and pushes it up until he’s got it bunched around my hips. “Keep typing,” he orders.
Heat rushes to my cheeks and I blush fiercely as I obey his order, trying my hardest to keep typing when all I want to do is turn around and kiss him. Silas’s hands roam over my ass, kneading and teasing, his thumbs brushing over my pussy.
I gasp when he grabs my tights and rips them right at the crotch, the sound loud in his quiet office. “Si!” I whisper.
“Keep working, baby,” he tells me. “You’ve got ten minutes to replicate the attack so we can build a proper defense.”
He pushes my underwear aside and chuckles as he drags his thumb over my pussy. “Wet,” he whispers. “I love this about you. I love that a single kiss turns you on just as much as it does me.”
He leans in and presses a soft kiss right between my legs, making me swallow down a moan. “Silas,” I warn.
He merely chuckles in response. “Eight minutes.”
I bite down on my lip as I continue to type, praying I’m doing a half decent job when all of my attention is on what he’s doing to me.
Si leans in, his tongue lapping around my clit, evading the spot I want him at most, over and over again. He’s torturing me.
“Six minutes.”
Silas spreads my ass cheeks and leans in further, his tongue moving down from my clit, until he’s sliding it into me, fucking me with his tongue in an effort to drive me insane.
“I’m not above begging,” I moan.
He chuckles and finally drags his tongue to my clit, flicking over it, falling into a steady rhythm that has my orgasm building rapidly.
“Si,” I plead. “I’m going to come. I can’t hold it.”
He takes me right to the edge, and then he pulls away. I gasp and try to straighten, but he keeps me pinned down with a hand on my lower back. “I’m not done with you.”
My pussy clenches when I hear the sound of his belt unbuckling, and moments later, he slides his cock against me, teasing my clit and pushing just the tip in, repeating the motion a few times, refusing to let me come.
“Silas,” I warn. “I’m going to kill you. I’m seriously going to kill you.”
He chuckles and slams into me, finally giving me what I want. A loud moan escapes my lips, and Si wraps one hand around my lips, keeping the other on my hip. He fucks me like that, and everything fades away as I chase a high.
“Four minutes,” he reminds me, and I try my hardest to refocus on the code I’m trying to write, when all I want to do is come for him.
The way he’s got his hand wrapped over my lips has him pulling my head back, my back arched. I can’t imagine what we look like right now. I’m bent over his desk, his thick cock thrusting into me and his fingers silencing me.
I grit my teeth and continue to type, praying to God any of what I’m typing is what I’m hoping it is. I can’t think straight when he’s touching me like that, and he knows it.
