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12. Soon
Jules
I’m in a daze, slow to realize that he’s removing his tie with purpose as a commanding edge drives his movements.
“Put your hands behind your back.”
“What?” I blink rapidly.
Instead of responding to my stupefied tone, he grips me by the arms. Before I know it, I’m on my feet, and he’s got me turned around, hands at the small of my back as he winds his tie around my wrists. After he finishes binding my hands, he whirls me once more and pushes me against the wall.
I gasp as he drops to his knees. A shiver follows the wake of his warm fingers, tingling along my skin as he slides my sleep shorts down my legs. I step out of the last of my clothing.
Cash wedges a hand between my thighs. “Spread your legs.”
I obey, and he grips me by the thighs, thumbs achingly close to my pussy as he spreads me open to his gaze. He’s got me right where he wants me.
Unable to touch him.
Unable to fight him even if I wanted to.
“You’ve got a gorgeous pussy. I could eat you out all day.” He tilts forward and darts his tongue over my clit, falling into a rhythm that’s tortuous and slow and hot. I’m shaking inside the firm grip of his hands, trapped by his deft tongue and the weakness in my knees.
“Oh God. Don’t stop.”
This is a bit surreal. Even after all the time we spent in bed together, I’m still having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that my boss is on his knees eating me out in the living room of my apartment.
He moans, sending a vibrating buzz against my sensitive flesh as he reaches up and pinches my nipples. It’s not long before I’m close, straddling the edge so precariously that I can’t suck a full breath into my lungs. Our gazes crash together. He holds me hostage with his sexy-as-sin bedroom eyes as he circles my clit with his tongue. It’s the most erotic sight I’ve ever seen, watching him pleasure me with his mouth.
But it’s not enough. It’s just enough to frustrate me, and I think he knows it.
“Please,” I whisper, thrusting my pelvis against his lips.
“How badly do you want to come?”
I let out a frustrated whimper, because every time I’m about to tip over the edge, he changes the method to his madness. The pressure building inside me is too much, flaring between my legs with tingling heat, and I squirm.
“Please,” I beg again, hungering for his mouth.
“Is this what you want?” He lets go of my nipple and slides two fingers inside me, and I pant, hips straining.
“I need more. Please.”
Instead of kissing me where I’m desperate for him, those lips curve into a triumphant smile as he fucks me with his fingers. He drags another moan from my throat.
“Cash, I’m begging.”
“Good. That’s exactly what I want.”
“Please.”
He strokes me with a feathering touch that drives me insane in the best way, and I start to climb again, trembling under his touch.
“Don’t stop.”
Pushing to his feet, he grips me by the throat, and his hand is a firm caress that’s just strong enough to get his point across—that I’m trapped by his will and nothing more. “Don’t come.”
“Are you punishing me?”
