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Undoing her buttons one at a time, I open her jacket slowly and slide it off her shoulders, and then I step back so I can fully appreciate the picture she’s creating. I’ll never look at this desk the same way again.
My head explodes with every swear word I know, so it’s a fucking miracle that what comes out is, “Stunning.”
“You haven’t seen the best part,” she says, smirking.
“Let’s see,” I say, lifting her off of my desk by the waist.
When her feet are firmly on the ground, I unzip her skirt and glide it down her hips, where it then drops to the floor.
“Fuck me,” I whisper, walking around to see her from every angle. “I—speechless. Whatisthis?”
“You really want a description right now?” She giggles.
“No, but I’m trying to prove I can take it slow,” I tell her. “It’s torture, but I’m trying.”
“How aboutyoudescribe it tome,” she says, her voice turning into pure seduction.
“I’ve changed my mind about taking our time,” I tease.
“Nuh-uh. Start talking.”
I slide my hand down my jaw. “Okay. I can see through that black material, which I love, but then you’ve covered the best parts, your perfect pink nipples and that sweet pink pussy—”
I glance at her and her lips have parted, her eyes gleaming with lust, but she lifts an eyebrow for me to keep going.
I groan. “With a pink…flower…section—”
“Embroidered floral panel—” she corrects.
“Embroidered floral panel,” I groan again, which just makes her laugh and sit up straighter, her nipples standing at attention under the pretty flowers.
“You love torturing me,” I growl.
“I do.” Her eyes are all lit up and those lips, her teeth stretch over her bottom lip, tugging slowly.
She leans forward. “Keep going. And lose the pants.”
I lift an eyebrow and undo my belt buckle, letting it crack as I slide it off.
“Uh…this embroidered floral panel—there should be a sexier word for that—around the low…part covers your nipples but not how fucking full your tits are, which was generous of you, thank you. And then that goes down the center, farther down than I wish it would.”
I undo the top of my pants and she watches my every move.
“But this part here at your hips is a really nice touch…”
“A ruffle trim,” she whispers.
“Right…pretty. But then the back is even better because…well, I like these little ribbons that you do, but the best part is that the pink embroidered shit isn’t covering anything up back here. It’s all that black sheer stuff and I can see every bit of that glorious ass.”
She starts laughing when I say embroidered shit, and I tug her against me, finally touching her again.
“Okay, that was slow enough,” I growl.
“You’re still wearing your pants,” she cries.
“Patience.”
She scowls and I grin, loving every second of this. I undo the ties in the back and slide it off of her before I set her back on the desk.
