Finally, satisfied that she provided a thorough investigation, my mother sniffs and looks down her nose at Whitney. She gives the two of us one more long look before excusing herself for her speech for the evening. My father goes with her, leaving just the two of us at the table.
Whitney turns to me and exhales. “How do you think that went?”
I offer her an encouraging smile. “It was just fine. Relax.”
She takes another deep breath in through her nose and turns toward the stage where my mother is now standing behind the podium. The lights in the ballroom dim a bit, the spotlight centering on my mother as she jumps into thanking everyone for attending.
My hand is still on Whitney’s leg, and my fingers stroke the smooth, creamy skin of her thigh rhythmically. She takes another deep breath and I notice she relaxes further into herchair. I can’t imagine what’s running through her mind right now, but I want to make sure that she knows she’s the only woman in this room who I give a damn about tonight.
As the minutes tick by, the blood traveling through my body seems to run just a bit faster, and I’m compelled to move my hand slightly, dipping under the silky seam of her dress. It just so happened that the side of her gown with the slit up her leg is the side closest to me, and I’m unable to ignore that.
Arousal explodes through my body when my fingers touch the smooth spans of her thigh. Her breath hitches when she realizes what I’m doing and shoots me a warning glance. I give her an innocent shrug.
Any second, I expect her to swat at my hand, effectively ruining any fun we could have here. However, I’m surprised when she keeps her expression level, staring up at the stage as if nothing is amiss.
I’m even more surprised when she spreads those sexy legs wider for me, allowing my hand to continue to travel higher.
As my mother continues her speech at the podium, Whitney’s eyes seem to turn a bit glassy and her breath hitches. I move closer to the apex of her thighs, and her chest rises and falls with anticipation. Enamored with the way she responds to me, I do it again.
And again.
The third time, I move all the way up. My middle finger brushes over the fabric of her panties, and I have to swallow down a noise when I realize just how damp they are. Slowly, my finger circles over the nub of her clit through the material, and her breath hitches. Whitney squirms in her seat a little in an attempt to find the best position for me to access the most forbidden parts of her. She gives me the side-eye, and I give her a wicked grin.
All it would take is for her to tell me to stop, and I’d keep my hands to myself.
But I love that she doesn’t almost as much as I love how her cheeks are already starting to flush as my finger swirls over her.
Things heat up even more when I move my finger to the side, finding the seam of her panties and swiftly moving underneath them. Whitney hums a little the minute my fingers graze her pussy, and I bite my lip, entranced by how soaked with desire she is.
Whitney moves closer to the table, simultaneously pushing my hand farther up against her but making it so my arm doesn’t have to stretch so far to reach her. Thankfully, the tablecloth is pooled around her lap, so the person sitting across her cannot see me having my way with her under her dress.That paired with the dim lighting, and we’re perfectly shielded.
I’m impressed the longer this goes on. She seems to be able to handle herself well, giving nothing away. I, however, am getting more and more worked up by the moment. She loses a fraction of control when I slide my middle finger deep inside of her.
A gasp escapes her lips, but she quickly covers it, reaching for her glass and taking a sip of water. She shoots me a scandalized look, but I only lean toward her and whisper, “You look a little flushed.”
“Do I?” she whispers back, maybe too harshly. If it weren’t for how she repeatedly tilts her hips against my hand, I might suspect she isn’t digging the way I was torturing her. But she continues to surreptitiously move her pelvis, searching for the spot that feels the best for her, taking her pleasure from me.
We continue on this way, me fingering her under the table and her keeping up pretenses as if everything is as it should be. My need for her continues to mount to immeasurable lengths. But I continue our game, wondering how far Ican take her before she gives in. With each minute that passes, I become just as wound up as she is. Her pussy clenches around my fingers, and finally, I know she’s had enough.
“Theo,” Whitney whispers to me when she seems unable to take anymore. Her voice is low enough that anyone else at the table can’t hear her. I turn my head to look at her and catch my breath when I set eyes on her beautiful face.
Her cheeks are flushed bright red, and her eyes are blown wide. I don’t know how it’s possible, but I grow even harder against the zipper of my dress pants. This entire time I’ve been fingering her, I’ve kept my arousal at bay, but now? With her coming all over my fingers in front of everyone here?
Fuck me.
“What is it, baby?” I ask her, though I know what she needs from me without her saying anything. Languidly, I pull my fingers out of her soaked pussy, and she shivers from the sensation. “You need something?”
Slowly she dips her chin and gives me what I can only describe as bedroom eyes. Her blue-gray eyes are darkened with desire, and her eyelids are hooded as she looks up at me through her eyelashes. My cock throbs. “Can we go back up to the room?”
“You not feeling well?” I ask, a little bit louder for the people sitting nearby. I get a few curious glances from the other donors as they overhear our conversation. My mother is still up on the stage, speaking about the goals of the organization for the coming year.
Whitney’s cheeks turn an even darker rose color, and she nods. “I think I need to go lie down.”
Fuck yes, you do,preferably on my cock.
“Alright, let's get you upstairs,” I say as I push my chair back and offer her the hand whose fingers wereinside her not long ago. Without another word to anyone, I whisk Whitney out of the ballroom and to the elevator.
She’s practically panting when the elevators close behind us, and I don’t waste any more time. I close the distance between us.
