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“I do,” I breathed, knowing where this was going.
“And I’m not coercing you to do something you don’t like just because I’m your boss. That this is cons—”
“Yes, yes. Consensual. Get on with it, Parker.”
The man chuckled as he kissed my knees and removed my shoes, allowing them to fall on the floor, and my toes hit the cool surface of the fallboard.
“Your mouth is going to be your downfall, Jellybean,” he said to me, and then I knew I had to ask why he called me that. “It’s President Reagan’s favorite, the jelly beans. You'd know if you had done your research like I told you.”
I wanted to tell him how ancient he sounded referencing a former US president, but I didn’t in fear of spoiling the moment.
“Is that why you call me that? Because I’m your favorite?” He smirked and planted one more kiss on my knee before spreading my legs.
I yelped at the sudden movement and couldn’t help but giggle when Matthew’s eyes grew wide and he told me to go quiet. And then, my laughter halted when Matthew buried his face between my legs after he had hoisted my skirt upward.
My breath caught as he planted a kiss on my pelvis, and I felt his arms find the waistband of my lace underwear.
“Up,” he instructed. He rolled the thing down my legs, removing them completely before bringing the delicate undergarment up his nose.
Fuck! My face felt like it was burning just by looking at him doing that. He tucked the lace panties into the pocket of his jacket and said, “For safekeeping.”
Then he returned from eating me out to oblivion. His tongue was an expert as he flicked my clit, his saliva lubricating the sensitive spot.
“You’re so good at that,” I gasped, arching my neck back as I felt his mouth devour my pussy. I grabbed a fistful of his soft hair as I slightly pushed him further in.
“You smell and taste amazing, Reagan,” he hummed, and the vibration sent a chill up my legs and my back. “I could make you come like this.”
His hands traced my calves as his eager mouth slurped the juices from my pussy.
“Jesus, Matthew,” I moaned and rode his face as best as I could. Then he inserted one finger inside, curling it upwards. My knees buckled at the pleasure of him finding my G-spot. And he slid it in and pulled it out. In and out. And every time he inserted it back inside my wet pussy, he’d curl in upward, teasing me.
“We’ll be quick. I’m not going to fuck you yet.”
“Wait—what?” I pulled away, but his finger remained inside me. I could see my juices glistening on his lips as he looked up at me, a grimace painted my face.
“I’m not going to fuck you in the banquet hall on top of the piano, Reagan. You think I’m a heathen?”
“But I need you to.” God, I needed him to fuck me into oblivion so I could forget all my problems—my father, Ryan, and my slowly deteriorating bank account.
“When I fuck you, Reagan, a piano wouldn’t be enough to support us,” he pointed, licking my release on his lips. “Now take what you can because this is your punishment.”
Well, fuck me.
I still hadn’t processed his words in my head when he opened my legs wider. He shoved the piano bench back, and it slammed on the floor, the noise like a loud drum in the empty hall. Now that he was standing between my legs, he brought his lips down to mine and kissed me so deeply that I thought I was going to melt on the piano.
“Keep quiet when you come, okay?” I nodded, and without any more words, he inserted two fingers in my pussy, hitting my G-spot again and again and again. Until I was thrashing against his fingers with euphoria, my eyes seeing stars. I yelped before I could cover my mouth.
“Matthew,” I begged, my heart pounding against my ears as the squishing sound of my wet pussy filled the room.
“You’re soaking wet, darling,” he cooed, but he didn’t stop fucking me with his fingers. My head was the first to give up, and I was thankful that Matthew was there, a wall of muscle, so I was able to lean my head against his chest. And with his free hand, he cradled my head, one of my hands fisting his suit and the other grabbing his forearm like I would fall over if I didn’t.
“Oh, my God. I’m going to come.” I felt the warmth of my fluids run down my thighs and into a puddle on the fallboard. Fucking hell.
“Ask politely,” he teased, his pace only increasing, and I knew that the wave of orgasm was coming.
“Can I come, Matthew?”
“Say ‘please’.”
