He scoops me up, hands under my ass, and I wrap my arms around his neck, kissing him. His back thunks against the glass wall to Bethany’s office. He rolls us, and we stumble into the office.
I’m pulling on his tie, trying to tear off his shirt before I can stop myself.
After pushing my dress up almost to my waist, he sets me on the desk, the edge of Bethany’s cream-and-gold blotter digging into my ass. His fingers are in my mouth. I suck on them as he works me through my panties. I’m wet and achy and moaning for him.
“You want my cock so much you’ll get fired for me, won’t you?” he whispers harshly in my ear.
Right now?
“Yeah, fuck my job. Give it to me.”
“Good girl. That’s what I want to hear.” He slams me back against the desk when I sit up to try and reach for his zipper.
The PIP with my name on it is sitting on the corner. I grab the edge of the desk.
“You need to be begging for it.”
“Shit.” My nails scrape his scalp as he forces my knees apart to fit him and his massive shoulder between my legs.
He’s mouthing me through my panties, his large hand still spreading my thighs, digging into them. He stands out of the crouch then leans over, hands on my tits. I taste myself on his mouth as he kisses me.
“Cock,” I mumble against his mouth. “Give me.”
I arch as his fingers nudge under my panties and slip inside me, curling and finger-fucking me as his mouth is back on my tits.
“Fuck me, fuck me,” I chant.
“Hmm? You know that’s not exactly what I want to hear.” His fingers twist inside of me then pull out as I moan.
“I’m not telling you that you’re right, you sick fuck.”
He yanks my panties down, the lace burning my thighs. His mouth is back on me, his tongue lapping at my pussy.
“Shit.” My knees clutch at his head. He forces my legs apart so wide my hips ache.
His tongue dips inside me and sweeps lower briefly, practically making me come right there. My eyes roll back, and I catch motion as McCarthy’s tongue is working my pussy with long, sure strokes, like this is the reason he’d gotten up in the morning.
In the corner of my eyes, I see movement. Thinking it’s McCarthy’s reflection, I cup his face, my hips surging up to his mouth. He gives me an excruciating lick from my clit to my ass. My eyes roll back and to the side and—
It’shim, Bethany’s husband.
A moan escapes my mouth as McCarthy’s fingers curl in me, then I’m falling over the edge as he wrings the orgasm from me.
Shit.
I’m not looking at McCarthy. I’m peering out of the glass wall. I blink, and the heavyset man is gone.
Did I imagine it?
When my eyes finally cooperate and roll up to McCarthy’s face, he’s smug. His eyes roam over me like he owns my body and he’s just inspecting his new toy. He gives me a punishing kiss.
“I knew you’d come running to me when I called.”
He sits in Bethany’s chair and leans back, smirking, as he watches me hastily rearrange my clothes.
“Of course you did.”
“Come on, don’t be like that. You liked it.” He wraps his arms around my waist.
