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“Stay,” he murmured, and there was a thread of growliness in his voice that froze me in place. Wow. I never expected he’d have such a dominant streak but there was something in his eyes that told me he’d have no problem tying me up and doing sinful things while I struggled to resist.
Finally, he let the tights argument drop and sat back again. He began to massage my right foot, his skilled fingers digging into the delicate arch and finding the exact spot where the tension lay. I bit back a moan. He was certainly good at this. I recalled the way he’d eased the tension in my neck when he’d come to see me at the club that time.
Again, I imagined being married to him, getting massages like this on a regular basis.
Oh man, I was in serious trouble here.
I forced myself to try and relax as I reclined. My head rested against the cushioned armrest as Conor did magical things to my sore foot. He teased out all the aches before moving over to the other one. I closed my eyes and released the breath I’d been holding, but when he began to massage his way up my calf my eyes sprang open on a gasp.
It had been so long since a man touched me. Two years to be exact, and even then, my last boyfriend, Vince, hadn’t been one for massages. He hadn’t been particularly interested in making me feel good outside of penetrative sex. I usually had to get myself off in private afterwards with my vibrator.
Conor’s gaze locked on mine, something sexy in his eyes when he said, “Unbutton your blouse.”
I swallowed thickly, my only response a nervous, breathy, “W-what?”
The expression he gave me was pure heat. “Unbutton your blouse,” he repeated. “I want to look at you.”
“Conor, I already told you that—”
“Don’t lie, Yvonne. I know you feel this just as much as I do.” His hand came to the back of my knee and a small, involuntary moan escaped me when he found some magical spot and gently dug his fingers in. He was right. I was feeling this. I was feeling it a little too much. The desire in my belly and sharp need between my thighs confirmed it.
Something about Conor made me feel safe. There was nothing in his gaze but worshipful adoration and desire, and most importantly, respect. I felt respected by him, strange as it was to say since he was encouraging me to undress right here in his office.
Instinctively, I lifted my hands to the buttons on my blouse but they wouldn’t quit shaking. I was turned on but also incredibly nervous. I’d never done something like this in a place of work. Someone could walk in at any moment. Perhaps that’s what made it feel so electric.
“Hey,” Conor said then, drawing my attention. “Don’t do anything you don’t want to.”
He held my gaze, and there was such kind, loving affection and understanding in those golden brown depths that I could hardly draw enough breath. I did want to do this, whateverthiswas. I’d been resisting him ever since that first night out with Ev and Dylan and finally I was giving in to my suppressed desires.
Reaching down, I began to undo the buttons. Conor inhaled sharply then resumed massaging the back of my knee, his eyes fixed to my fingers as I slowly revealed the white lace bra I wore. Another sharp inhale, his gaze devouring me as it trailed over my cleavage and bare stomach. I fought the instinct to cover myself, fought my self-consciousness about my body, especially since I hadn’t been naked in front of a man in a long while.
Then I saw the look in Conor’s eyes and all my self-consciousness evaporated. That one look made me feel like the sexiest woman in the world.
He shocked me when he bent and pressed a kiss to the inside of my ankle. It was barely there, a whisper of a kiss, and he quickly withdrew, his throat working as he spoke low, “Touch yourself. Let me watch you.”
Um, what?!
Did he really just say that? My cheeks heated, eyes widening. I couldn’t believe what he was suggesting. I might’ve been turned on, my resistance a pile of worthless mush, but I’d never done anything as brazen as what he was asking of me. I’d never touched myself in front of anyone, let alone in a brightly lit room with someone who wasn’t even my partner watching. Someone I’d been working very hard to remain platonic with.
But things weren’t platonic between us, not since the moment he’d walked into my apartment all grown up and confident and I’d barely been able to string a sentence together I was so attracted to him. And now that he’d revealed how he felt about me, how he’d seen me back when we’d both been living in the Villas, well, I wasn’t sure they ever could be.
Conor’s office door was closed. Nobody could see in. The blinds were slightly drawn, which meant someone might be able to see in if they really strained their eyes but it wasn’t likely. Despite this, I felt safe. I felt comfortable with Conor, even if I was nervous as hell.
I shifted my hips, lifting my skirt and reaching for the hem of my tights. It didn’t strike me as a very sexy action but Conor watched with heat in his eyes nonetheless. I slid the soft, sheer material down my legs before tossing them to the floor. Conor’s hand returned to my ankle and the feel of his strong, warm palm encircling my bare skin was almost enough to make me come.
I knew what the next logical step was. I needed to remove my underwear but I was struck with a bolt of self-consciousness. This wasn’t actually happening, right? Surely it was a sexy dream and I’d wake up any second.
Okay, Yvonne, get a hold of yourself. You can do this.
I lifted my skirt higher so that it bunched around my hips. I still wasn’t brave enough to take my knickers off. Conor’s sharp intake of breath when his eyes locked between my legs was enough to send my pulse soaring. I was already so wet and I was certain he could see that through the white lace underwear that matched my bra.
“You’re exquisite,” he said, voice low.
I wanted him to touch me. I wanted him to lie on top of me and surround me with his broad shoulders and thick muscles. I was certain his weight would be a delicious pressure weighing me down. I wanted him to press the hard cock I could see outlined in his pants against my aching core and thrust until I came apart beneath him.
To my frustration, he didn’t make a move. Instead he merely sat there, caressing my bare ankle and consuming me with his gaze. Those eyes seemed to say,I’m waiting, but I was still building up the courage to touch myself in front of him.
The desire building in my core became so unbearable that I finally brought my hand to my inner thigh. I stroked the soft skin there and Conor let out a low groan, his hand going to the thick erection straining in his pants. I bit my lower lip, feeling the sudden, intense need to pull his cock free and take him into my mouth.
