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“Oh!” I take a sharp breath. “Mr. Knight, that will certainly help sir. I must say that you are very creative in your attempts.”
“I do enjoy my work,” he says, kissing his way down my ear and then biting my chin.
I back away from him with the full intention of being caught. He expertly corners me towards the bed.
“Welcome to the workshop, Miss Banner. We will be performing our experiments here.” He continues to walk towards me, and I have nowhere to go but the bed. I allow myself to fall into the heavenly soft bed which envelopes me in luxurious, cream-colored silk sheets that smell like fresh sweet vanilla. The bed is large enough for our silly games. He is a sophisticated host who lets me take in the view. I can see the Japanese garden, the massive balcony and an unobstructed view of the shimmering ocean. The side of the ocean from which our yacht approached this hidden nest.
“Your little place above the garage has quite the view.” I say, enjoying the endless glimmer of the ocean below us. Ethan Knight offers a view of something equally spectacular. He unbuttons his shirt and removes it completely, letting it fall to the floor. His perfectly built chest, muscle ripped torso and trim waist.
“Unbutton your blouse.” he orders with a growl. He gets into bed, lying next to me, bringing his insane fresh, body scent with him.
I obey his demand. Unbuttoning the top three buttons, I feel his forefinger roaming the hollow between my breasts. When I reach for my skirt, he watches me for a few moments as I unbutton it.
“Lift yourself.” He gets on his knees as I fumble with my skirt.
“What?” I am still fumbling with the button.
“Lift yourself so that I can pull off your skirt.”
Something about the way he says that, sends flames of fire that lick my inner thighs. It’s that insane thing he does to me where I go from spark to a growing fire. Using my head as a support, I lift my hips. He likes me in that strange position and smiles as he looks at my mid area hovering above the bed sheets. “Your skirt has to go down,” he grunts, grabbing it from both sides, he pulls it down but stops when it reaches my knees. My legs are locked, and I can only spread my legs to a limited degree. When I rest my hips back onto the bed, the silk bed sheets do feel soft and luxurious, but the movement of my legs is still trapped by my skirt below my knees.
“Uh I am a little trapped,”
“I know he says with a knowing smile. I like you this way. I have dreamed of you this way.”
“Trapped?”
“How many times have you worn this skirt around the office?”
“I did buy it for work,” I say. “It’s a good skirt, I like it.”
“Oh, you like it?” He says, shaking his head. “Do you know what that damn skirt puts me through at work?”
“I don’t.” But I want very much to find out what this formal skirt which did cost me a nice bundle is doing to the CEO of Elysian, Mr. Ethan Knight.
“You walk into the conference room, in that damned skirt, and it swings right around your knees, calling my eyes to your long endless legs.”
“Oh, I try to be professional.”
“You are!” he growls. “And when you take a seat at the glass conference table. You just have to run both your hands over your delicious back, all the way from your tiny waist to the curve of your hips and then to the end of the skirt.”
“I have to keep the ironing smooth on my clothing Mr. Knight.”
“It makes me hard. I lose my concentration. In the office when you turn away from me, with every move, the curve of your round ass rubs against the fabric, with every step.”
“I try to keep a good posture,” I say, feeling the heat from his nostrils that is building my excitement.
I place a hand on his hard chest, feeling the warm thrumming of his body. “Do you often bring women here Mr. Knight?” My playful question has a hint of seriousness.
“Other than the people who work here no one knows this place even exists. It’s hidden from official maps and even GPS. I am afraid right now, if I were to keep you prisoner no one would know where you are.”
I feel the warmth of his hands moving, grazing through my blouse. His fingers are already sinking into my cleavage, and his beautiful knuckles push down the blouse further.
“And this damn blouse, I have seen you in it.”
“It’s hundred percent cotton, and a good price.”
“It’s a hundred percent turn on. Every button on that blouse taunts me. My fingers yearn to open those buttons, to open that blouse so that your plump breasts can be kissed. Kissed till there are patches of red on their cream skin.”
