Page 16 of Following His Commands

“Whatever happened cannot happen again. I can’t do this. I just want to do my job. That’s it.”

“When you can say that and mean it, I promise I won’t touch you again.”

“I do mean it,” I tell him, folding my arms over my chest.

“Really?” he asks while standing from his desk. He walks right up to me, his lips a breath away from mine. “So, if I were to stick my fingers up your skirt, shove them into that tight little cunt of yours, you wouldn’t be wet for me? Little girl.” He raises a brow in question.

“No, I wouldn’t be,” I lie and take a step back.

“Keep lying to yourself,” he says.

“Oh my god, I can’t do this.” I grab my bag from the floor and storm out of his office.

Closing myself in mine, I sit down and take a huge breath in. Why is every encounter with that man more intense than the last? I can’t escape the pull he has on my vagina.

I need him like I need air. But unlike oxygen deprivation, I won’t actually die if I deprive myself. I might go insane and become a raving bitch. But I won’t die. I’ll just invest in some more rechargeable, vibrating friends.

* * *

I drownmyself in work all morning. I look up at the clock. It’s lunchtime already. Pushing to my feet, I head to the copy room to make a copy of the report I’m working on. It’s quiet in the office. I’ve noticed that everyone seems to disappear during the lunch hour.

The copy room is empty when I walk in. Placing the paper face down on the scanner, I hit the green button and watch as the document is fed through the machine. I know the minute he walks into the room. I can feel him. His familiar cinnamon scent surrounds me.

I pivot on my heel. I need to keep distance between us. I know we’re in the office and it’s unlikely that he’ll try anything here. I just don’t trust myself around him. Even now, as I rake my eyes up and down his body, I want to rush forward and slam my lips onto his. I want to undress him, run my hands over all those grooves and ridges that I know are hiding under that suit.

Alistair flicks the lock on the door before he turns around and stalks towards me. “You know, there are advantages to having you work here.”

“My great research skills?” I offer.

“That’s yet to be determined. I was talking about the fact that I can have you for lunch.”

“Ah, no, you cannot,” I protest, holding a palm out like that’s enough to stop him from reaching me.

It’s not. He steps up to me, puts his hands on my hips, and lifts me onto the table behind us. “Yes, I can. And I will,” he says, pushing my skirt up my thighs before spreading them.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” I tell him.

“We most certainly should,” he says while dropping to his knees.

As much as I try to find more counterarguments, I’m drawing a blank. The feel of his lips on my inner thigh as he kisses his way up my leg is too good. My thighs open wider on their own. It’s as if my body is working against my mind here. As his lips travel higher and higher, I’m a lost cause. I’m aching for the pleasure I know that mouth of his can deliver.

His fingers hook into the edge of my panties. He pulls them aside, granting himself full access to my pussy. Vibrations run through me with the groan he lets out at the first swipe of his tongue.

My fingers tangle in his hair. “Oh god.” I hold his head in position, not that I think he’s about to move anytime soon.

His tongue laps at my folds in slow, languid strokes, mixing it up with a few twirls. I’m racing towards the promise land. Towards a climax of all climaxes. I can feel it building. I’m almost there. Alistair sucks on my clit at the same time he inserts two fingers inside my pussy.

“Fuck.” My thighs clench around his head as I come.

He withdraws his fingers, replacing them with his tongue and pushing it in and out of me until my body is completely relaxed. He tugs my panties back into place before standing and adjusting my skirt to cover my thighs.

“Thatis what you missed out on Saturday morning by not waking up in my bed. Next time, stay the whole night,” he says before slamming his lips down on mine.

I return his kiss, entangling my tongue with his, tasting myself on him. It’s oddly arousing, and I can feel myself getting worked up all over again. Alistair is the one to pull away first. His hand cups my cheek as his thumb gently strokes the skin there, while he stares deeply into my eyes.

“Fucking perfect,” he whispers before stepping back and walking towards the door.

“There won’t be a next time, Mr Warner,” I call out just as he reaches for the knob.

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