He’s still got my hair wound around his fist. Now he tightens his grip, forcing me to arch my back, the position spreading my unbuttoned blouse wider, my breasts straining in the pink lacy cups of my bra. “She’s extremely pretty and she likes to be touched by her boss,” Jason says, his breathing shallow. “Maybe it’s time we discussed a raise.” He keeps his right hand wrapped around my hair, then slides his left one down the front of my shirt, pushing aside the cups of my bra and stroking my bare nipples with a teasing touch. “What are you willing to do for it?”
“Anything,” I whisper fervently.
He bites back a groan, molding my breast in his hand. “Is that so?”
I nod obediently.
“Would you fuck for it, little girl?”
A rush of wetness glides through my flesh, and I whimper, pressing my knees together. “Yes, sir.”
“Mmmm.” His hand leaves my breast and travels upward to his zipper, which he yanks down, material rasping around. Using the grip of his right hand on my hair, he turns my head to receive his cock in my mouth, groaning when I welcome him with a wet, greedy pull. A stroke of my tongue along with sensitive vein that runs beneath him. Then deep. So deep. Pull, pull, pull. “Look at me while you suck it. Oh,God.That’s a good girl.”
I flutter my eyelashes at him.
He tenses. Shudders.
A few salty drops coast down my throat.
“There you go, angel. Drink your pre-come.” He swipes sweat from his brow and pulls out, visibly trying to gather his wits. “I want you buck naked on my desk in one minute,” he says raggedly. “Those legs better be spread.”
“Yes, sir.”
Vibrating with excitement, I allow him to draw me to my feet by the fistful of hair. Once I’m released, I remove my shirt, my bra. Watching his expression in the office window, I unzip my short leather skirt, letting it slither down my legs. Finally, I hinge forward slowly and slip my black thong down to my ankles, soliciting a dark groan from my husband. My boss. The man in charge but also have wrapped around my pinkie finger.
“Leave on the heels.”
“Yes, sir.”
I perch on the very edge of his desk, facing his chair, and lean back, arching seductively so my breasts point toward the ceiling, ready to earn my raise. Ready to do anything for this man who loves me so perfectly. Who cherishes me enough to step into this role of my Daddy, my dominant, so I can feel alive. Praised. Lusted after. Safe.
Loved.
Oh, my goodness, there’s so much love. It’s in his face when he approaches me now, his erection trapped in his huge, steady hand. It drips on the hardwood floor, thickening when he sees how wet I am. How dutifully I’ve spread my legs for my boss.
He crowds in between my thighs, his lips brushing left to right against mine, dragging the smooth tip of his erection through my dampness. “The harder I fuck, the bigger the raise,” he rasps, poising himself at my entrance. “How hard can you stand it?”
I sob in fear. “H-hard. I th-think.”
He bites back a heaving groan, as if the anticipation alone will break him, and then he’s filling me with a brutal pump. I whine and squirm, as if it hurts, instead of feeling utterly glorious and gratifying and fulfilling. But despite my discomforted act, he bares his teeth in an animal grimace and ruts me, one bone-rattling thrust at a time, a full three seconds passing between each violent drive, my body shocked with trembles, mouth gasping for oxygen, every time I receive one.
“What a perfect little intern you are,” he grunts, razing his teeth up my ear. “I could come already, you’re so fucking tight.”
I brace for another thrust, crying out when he hits me with it, my left high heel falling off and hitting the floor. The desk rocking, our wedding picture toppling onto its side. I’m totally unclothed and he’s merely unzipped his pants. I’m bared for his pleasure—and he takes it. Mercilessly. Beginning to hump me faster. Faster.
“When you showed up to work in that little skirt…oh lord. I’ve been rock hard all day, wondering what you’d do if I took you somewhere in secret and kissed you.”
“I’d have kissed you back, Daddy,” I whisper up at him.
“Oh Christ. Christ.” He begins to pant. “I canfeelit in my nuts, God help me. How…young you are.”
My sex spasms over the praise. Over the reminder that I am his little girl.
Through and through.
My throat is in his hands now and I’m being manhandled. Bruised and chafed and bitten in ways that might seem alarming to anyone who didn’t understand. Who didn’t know that this is my heaven.
Jasonis heaven.
