I puzzle over this while she’s gone, but only a few minutes later, she reappears with the drink in her hand. Right. Not a martini. Still, I take it and sip in front of her, nodding my head in approval at the flavor. I will choke it down for her.
“May I sit with you?” she asks. I think she means sitting on my lap, and instantly, that’s all I want. Yes, her ass pressing against my cock, her small body in my arms? I should leap at the chance. This is my opportunity to make even just a shred of my dream a reality.
“Yes,” I say, pulling out the chair beside me. Confusion twists her face only briefly, before the practiced smile returns and Velvet gracefully places herself in the red cushions of the other chair.
What on earth do I say to her now? Insteadof trying to come up with something, I slide my drink across to her.
“If you would like some.”
Velvet peers at me, then down at the drink before nodding agreeably. She takes a graceful, tiny sip, then puts the glass back on the table.
“Thank you,” she says with that same bright smile I’ve never seen before. She doesn’t smile like that at work, always focused on her job. “What brings you here tonight?”
Right. At least there’s that—it’s her role to make conversation.
“Needed some relaxation.” If that’s what I can call it. “A little downtime.”
“You came to the right place.” She shifts closer in her chair. “Why don’t you give me your hand?”
I blink down at her, trying to figure out the rationale behind her question. But I come up blank, so I do as I’m told, extending my arm across the space between our armchairs to give her my hand. My green fingers look like sausages in her tiny, delicate, human ones.
And then, she starts to rub. Working her way around my palm at first, she digs in and then releases, massaging as she goes. It feels… exquisite, and also strangely painful. No one has ever massaged my hand before. She makes her way to my fingers next, squeezing each one from the base to the tip.
I wonder if she would handle my cock like that. Would she press down as she stroked it? Choke it as she sank her mouth down on it?
Fuck. I shouldn’t be thinking like that, but it’s impossible not to as I look into my assistant’s face, her eyes shadowed with makeup, her lips a feral red. As to be expected, my dick responds under my slacks. It thickens and rises until I know Velvet can see it.
“Sir,” she says in a silky voice, her gaze darting down to my waist and then back up to my face. “You know I can help you with that.”
I practically choke on my drink. She’s propositioning me, out in the open, with her own voice. Asking to touch me. Relieve me.
Against my will, my cock twitches inside my pants. But I can’t. Not with my assistant. Not with Ms. Kristoff, who is off-limits to me.
I should request someone else, but I can’t bring myself to do that, either.
Is this truly, perhaps, my opportunity? Could this be the moment I’ve been waiting so long for? I glance around the room, where no one is paying attention to us. Even if they did, all theywould see is what they expect to see: a rich man in a suit with a beautiful, scantily dressed woman on his lap.
After a solid few moments of silence have passed, where Velvet patiently waits for my answer, I clear my throat.
“Please,” I say, my voice coming out strained.
She nods with another smile, and climbs out of her chair, easily seating herself on my thigh. I utterly dwarf her like this, as if she is a child and I am Santa Claus.
Her touch. Her ass on my leg. Her hip against my belly. All the places we’re connected turn white-hot.
Her hand snakes out, gently caressing the bulge that’s formed under my slacks. She’s gentle with it, skimming over the top, and I’m absolutely fucking electrified. I’ve never allowed myself anything, and here she is, caressing my dick with only two layers of clothing between us. I’ve been starving in the desert and now my mouth is buried in a trough of the world’s sweetest water.
“Hmm,” Velvet says, her voice low, tuned in a way I’ve never heard it before. “You seem trapped in there.”
I don’t even realize that my arm has extended around her, circling her back, as she reachesdown to unfasten my belt. Next is the button and the zipper on my slacks, revealing my black boxer briefs. Normally, I am not self-conscious in the least about how I look, but I never expected the one on my lap at Octavio’s to be Ms. Kristoff.
Damn, and I’m hard. Painfully hard as her hand strokes once again over the fabric like she’s testing my shape underneath. My cock is ready to rip through my boxer briefs. I’m unable to move, simply watching in fascination as she hooks her thumb in the band and pulls it down, which lets me finally burst free.
Thank fuck I’m mostly hidden by the table.
Velvet gasps, and my arm curls tighter around her back. I hope she’s not scared of it. It is a monster, the damned thing, already dribbling at the tip. Veins throb along the sides, leading up to the head that is a softer green than the rest of my skin.
Then, her petite human hand creeps up to the base, her fingers trying to wind around it. She can’t even get close to connecting them on the other side.
