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He laughed. “You looked so excited. Your joy was contagious. I didn’t even realize I had been missing that from my life until you showed up.”
His hands slid under my blouse.
His fingers grazed my bare stomach, and millions of tiny sparks danced all over my skin.
“Oh, Steven!”
They squeezed into my flesh.
I froze.
I didn’t enjoy having my stomach touched. It was the only body part I was self-conscious about. And it wasn’t even the biggest part of me.
Fuckin’ female insecurities.
Shame about my bulging stomach overwhelmed me. I grabbed his wrist to make him stop.
“Let go, Laura!”
“It’s just that…um…my belly—”
In a fraction of a second, Steven twisted his wrists until his hands grabbed mine and pinned my arms over my head. His body and all its weight landed on top of me.
I was trapped.
Ravenous eyes stared at me.
“You will not stop me, Laura. I want to see, touch, explore, discover, and kiss every part of you. I desire all of you. I will give pleasure to. Every. Part. Of. Your. Body. Do you understand me?”
I was not one to be dominated and was about to protest when my hips shifted, and his erection pressed against my clit.
I melted. My body welcomed his authority. And wanted more of it.
A struggle between my feminist beliefs and my raging sex drive erupted in my psyche. My body’s carnal desires won out as my hips began to thrust rhythmically, rubbing on his cock.
I was breathless from the sexual tension coursing through me, deep in my soul. “Yes,” I panted.
Returning to his initial mandate, he released my hands.
He traced his fingers along my skin. I closed my eyes. My mind went blank, and my body submitted to his light touch.
I surrendered myself to him, feeling completely safe. I knew I was in good hands.
Pun intended!
He found the clasp of my bra and undid it with a single flick of his fingers.
The next thing I knew, he had slid both my bra and blouse off and thrown them onto the floor. Bare-breasted on his desk, I squirmed in anticipation of what he would do next, the cool air of the room teasing my hard nipples.
His hands reached under my skirt and glided up my thighs. He took his time.
I needed to relieve some of the sexual buildup, so I squeezed my breasts.
He froze. Watching me touch myself, he moaned.
He seemed to struggle to contain his excitement as his fingers clutched my thighs. He squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath.
A master of self-discipline, he regained his control.
