“I hope I’m not being too forward, Zoey,” he said in the most seductive yet fatherly tone.
“No . . . no . . . you aren’t.”
Mr. Lawrence’s warm breath brushed along the skin of my chest, making goosebumps scatter and rise to the surface. He leaned in and kissed me. His clean-shaven face was smooth against mine, and he smelled like aftershave. His hand drifted around the back of my neck and grabbed the clip securing my hair, pulling it from its place. My auburn locks tumbled down, falling over my shoulders.
“I want you to make it up to me.” He brushed his fingers through my hair, fisting it at the nape of my neck.
“Make what up to you?” I asked. I knew what I needed to make up to him, but I wanted to hear more of his sultry and commanding words.
He smirked. “All this time I’ll have to spend finishing the workyoudidn’t bother to do.” His words were harsh, and they made me clench my legs. I crossed them to try to calm the throbbing.
“How can I do that?” I asked with feigned naivety, but I knew what he wanted. I saw it through his pants. He was so damn hard, tenting his slacks.
Mr. Lawrence unbuckled his belt, and the clang of metal made me shiver. I kept my eyes locked on his largehands as he unbuttoned his slacks, focusing on the veins. The sound of his falling zipper broke the sticky silence of the office, and I worried the room would combust from all the erotic tension. His pants splayed open, exposing his cock. His length was impressive, even more so than I fantasized about, and I bit my lip as I watched him grab himself and stroke. I wanted to be the hand caressing the soft skin of his dick.
“On your knees,” he commanded in the exact tone of a man with that much authority over me.
He didn’t need to tell me twice. I dropped to my knees, the carpet rubbing my bare skin. He grabbed my hand and placed it on him. I stroked him, moving along his swollen and excited head. He fisted my hair again and pushed his cock into my mouth. The scent of his masculine cologne overpowered me, and I breathed it in and absorbed it into my memory.
His head dropped back as if I had been the touch he’d been waiting for, like my mouth was what he needed. He grabbed the back of my head and forced himself deeper into my mouth, fucking my face, smearing my red lipstick on my porcelain skin, staining my cheek.
He pulled his dick out of my mouth and rubbed his thumb along my lower lip. “Do you think that’s enough for the hours of work I’ll have to do tonight? Just that perfect mouth of yours?”
I shook my head as I got to my feet and wiped at my mouth with the back of my hand. It wasn’t enough.
He raked his arm across his desk, sending his cupholder flying and pens and pencils skittering across the carpet. The hurried and sloppy way he needed medidn’t keep him from finding my mouth as he laid me down. I pulled his keyboard from beneath my lower back and shoved it aside. My hip knocked over the framed photo of his family. His hands raced up my thighs as he bunched my skirt at my hips and rubbed his fingers against my soaked panties. The touch made me tremble. I wanted this as much as he did.
He pulled my panties aside, exposing my pussy, and I felt insecurity rise into my clenching stomach as someone as perfect as him looked down at something he’d wanted for so long. What if I wasn’t what he expected? I didn’t want him to regret taking such a risk on me. What if I waseverythinghe expected? What would that mean for us? I’d be tempted toforgetmore work so I could get this punishment. He groaned as he rubbed his fingers over my swollen, excited clit. His touch made me shudder, too sensitive for his rough hands.
Mr. Lawrence shoved two fingers inside me, then three. I gasped, having always admired those large, strong hands, and now I felt every curve of them as they thrust inside me. Plunging his fingers deeper, he leaned over and kissed me again. My thighs trembled as he stood and palmed his dripping cock. He rubbed it against me, warm and wet with arousal, and my excitement coated him as he surged into me with ease. His fingers sank into my hips as he gripped them and fucked me. His desk shook, causing more things to fall to the floor. I worried his monitor would slip from the edge as it tilted closer, but his harder thrusts told me it didn’t matter if it did.
“Unbutton your shirt,” he commanded.
I did as I was told, unfastening every button until myshirt splayed open and exposed my breasts beneath a black bra. His fingers grazed my cleavage before he grabbed the straps and pulled them down, pushing the fabric away and freeing my chest. He dropped his lips to my nipples, swirling his tongue around them and sucking until I moaned.
“I want to see you bent over my desk,” he said.
Mr. Lawrence grabbed my hips and pulled me off the desk. He turned me around and leaned me over the wood. His hands raced to lift my skirt again, bunching it at my waist. He groped my ass with a rough grasp that pulled a whimper from my throat. It was exactly how I fantasized. Instead of stopping to ask if I was okay with it, he pushed me against the desk until my breasts pressed against the wood.
He leaned over me, his breath warming my ear. “I can’t believe how much work you’ve left me,” he said with a snarl as he smacked my ass, etching a deep sting within my skin. He drew his hand back and struck me again.
I bit my lip against the pain, trying to keep from screaming out. My skin still flamed with warmth, even as his hand left me with an imprint that remained long after he wound up for another slap. He struck me harder, gripping my ass at the end of the swing. I whimpered, unable to ignore the discomfort as his repeated hits bit at me. He wasn’t holding back. Not even a little. I deserved that pain because I was a real shitty employee.
“Zoey,” he groaned. “You disappointed me. Caused me so much more work. Work that I shouldn’t need to do because I have people likeyouto do it for me.” He drewhis hand back and smacked me once more, pressing me harder against the desk. “You were a bad employee, Zoey, but you’re beingsucha good girl,” he growled as he used his knee to spread my legs.
The way he said my name and called me a good girl made me tremble in anticipation. As he pushed inside me again, I gasped and grabbed the edge of the desk to steady myself. He fucked me so hard I forgot he was fifty-five. I forgot he was my boss. I forgot my own goddamn name.
“You feel exactly how I imagined you’d feel,” he said.
“How do I feel?” I asked with heavy breaths. I wanted to hear him tell me.
“Tight. Perfect. Like you need to be filled.”
“Don’t come in me,” I whispered, my body tensing at the mention of it.
He lifted me by my hair and kissed the nape of my neck. “I will come wherever I want,” he growled into my ear.
I couldn’t say no to him.
