The word coils in my veins.
He’s everywhere, lips on my hipbone, tongue tracing the curve of my breast, hands skimming my thighs, but he avoids where I ache for him most.
Teasing.
Tormenting.
Building the pressure until I’m literally squirming against the sheets.
“Please,” I gasp into the darkness, all of my other senses enhanced courtesy of the blindfold.
“Not yet.” His palm flattens over my abdomen, holding me down. “I want to hear you beg properly.”
When your boss turns out to be really, really good at this.
The absurdity almost makes me laugh, but then his thumb brushes my clit, light as a whisper, and my thoughts dissolve into static.
Finally!!
Pleasure sparks, white-hot, but he pulls back before it crests.
“Patience,” he chides, his voice rough with approval. “Such a good girl for me.”
Oh God, those words.
He repeats them like a mantra as he worships my body.
Good girl.
Perfect.
Mine.
His tongue dips into my navel. His teeth graze the inside of my thigh. Every touch is deliberate, reverent, and I’m unraveling beneath him.
Then his mouth is on my pussy.
Fully.
Yes yes yes!
Sucking, licking, devouring.
I cry out, and rock my hips up and down, frantically fucking his face.
His hands suddenly clamp down on my waist. “Stay still.”
The order is a growl.
I whimper, trembling, as he drags me to the edge again and again.
Each time when I’m close, my breath hitching, my muscles locking, he stops.
Pulls away.
Leaves me hollow and shaking.
It’s getting to be unbearable.
