Then I feel my orgasm rush through me so fast I can barely breathe, and I moan, writhing upward off the chair as he takes a brutal hold of my hips and shoves his cock in me so hard it feels like he’s splitting me in two.
I feel him come as his hands support me, suspended there like we’re levitating. It’s the best feeling in the world. My body is aching, used and burning, but if he asked to fuck me again, I’d spread my legs and let him do it in a heartbeat.
“Holy shit.” Crawford lowers me gently down to the chair as he pulls slowly out of me, panting heavily. “God, that was good.”
With a flick of his wrists, he unties me and gently, almost tenderly, pulls me back to a more comfortable position.
He pulls my skirt down over my legs, giving a low chuckle as he tries to rectify my ruined shirt. It’s a lost cause.
“I’m sorry. I got a little carried away. Is that all you have to wear?” he asks, and I nod. “Christ, what an idiot. Give me a sec.”
After he deals with the condom and zips up his pants, he moves to a panel on the wall to the left of his desk. I stare in disbelief as a whole closet opens up with rows of beautifully ironed shirts inside.
He bypasses them, rummaging beneath them, and then pulls out a white T-shirt.
“Could you wear this home? I’m sorry, I’ll order some more shirts from Ellie. She’d have my ass if she saw the mess I made of that one.”
I stand up, shucking off the remnants of my shirt. I’m still recovering from the sex, my body languid and aching pleasantly. He’s holding the t-shirt out to me, and I take it from him, pulling it on as his eyes linger on my breasts.
Looking at the floor, I notice buttons scattered all over the place. I bend down, beginning to pick them up, but a hand touches my arm, and Crawford pulls me upright.
“You don’t have to do that; it’s my mess, I’ll clean it up.”
He looks angry suddenly, and I stare at him, unsure what I’ve done to piss him off. He doesn’t meet my eyes as he steps back, and I awkwardly tuck the T-shirt into my skirt. He’s staring at the wall like I’m not even here, and I want to run from the office in embarrassment.
This guy gives me the best orgasm of my life, and then he treats me like a leper.
“Was that okay?”
I look up, surprised by the question. There’s a vein throbbing in his forehead, and I frown at him, confused by the concern in his eyes.
“What do you mean?” I ask stupidly, and he turns to face me.
“I didn’t ask about tying you up. I should have. It’s not okay to do that without discussing it first. If you don’t like it, tell me, and I won’t ever do it again.”
There’s real worry in his eyes. I glance at the headrest of the chair where my wrists were tied. I can still feel the slight abrasion against my skin.
I didn’t even think about it. I was just obsessed with the pleasure.
I look back at him, shaking my head. “I didn’t mind it,” I manage, seeing his frown deepen. “I mean. I enjoyed it.”
Crawford’s shoulders relax as he steps up to me. Reaching around to the chair behind, he picks up my jacket, holding it out and waiting expectantly. I turn, and he pulls it over my shoulders.
To my surprise, his hands settle on my waist, and he spins me back around. We’re inches apart, and I wonder if he’s going to kiss me. His eyes are fixed on my lips, but instead, he just gives me a little smile.
“You’re not just saying that?” he asks.
“No,” I say firmly. “You’re right, we should have talked about it beforehand, but I wouldn’t lie about it. I promise.”
He nods, and I feel his hips push against me and suck in a sharp breath.
“So you like being tied up?”
I’m about to say “Evidently,”but stop myself. I don’t need him to think I’m any less experienced than he already does.
“Yes,” I confess, the realization as unexpected as it is true.
“Have you ever been spanked?” he asks, his voice low and intimate in the dark. I shake my head. “How about toys?” I shake my head again. “Would you be opposed to using some?”
