His mouth is there, licking it off of me. He runs his tongue over the soft skin of the underside of my forearm, but all I can imagine is him running it between my legs.
He takes the glass and sits up, still straddling me. The heat from him is intense. If I had a little more wine or was a little less of a scaredy cat, I would reach up and palm the huge cock I imagine waits under those charcoal-gray slacks.
His head tips back as he drains the rest of the glass. His other hand goes to his belt, unbuckling it, slithering it out of the belt loops, tossing it to the floor with a soft clank of metal.
I taste the tannin of the wine on his mouth as he kisses me, long and slow.Languidis the word, though I want it hard and fast.
“I want…” I murmur against his mouth.
“Beg.” His teeth nip my lip. “No?” He sits back up.
I grasp desperately for him.
“Too bad.” He gazes down at me, dispassionate. “It would have made what I did to you in my car look like a joke.”
If he was wearing his tie, I would have grabbed it and pulled him back down to me. Instead, I grab one bulging bicep and haul myself upright, the robe half sliding off my shoulder.
“I want…” I slide my arm out of the sleeve. “I’m begging you…” The rest of the robe falls away.
His eyes flick down then back up to mine. “Better.”
I’m mesmerized by the way his mouth moves. I lick my lips. “Please use me.”
“How?” His hands cups the back of my neck.
The words are cool on my mouth. “Dominate me. I want to feel you everywhere.”
“Much better.” He crushes our mouths together, his tongue claiming my mouth. The squeezing of his hand on the back of my neck makes me feel lightheaded, and my heartbeat is pounding in my brain.
“Make me yours.”
His hand tightens in my hair, then he’s dragging me screaming down the mattress while my fingers grab for purchase.
I land in a heap on the soft carpet.
“Say it.”
“I want…”
He steps around in front of me.
“I need… to see it before you…” I trail off, not able to say it.
“Fuck your pussy raw?” It’s the same bored, professional tone, like we’re in a meeting discussing dividends, not about to… you know.
He forces my head back so I look up at him and slides two fingers in my mouth. I suck on them like I would suck on his cock. I slide my hands over my tits, playing with my nipples, imagining his mouth there.
“You know what your problem is?” He’s trying to be the cool and collected boss, but there’s tension in his baritone. “A lack of specificity.” He withdraws his fingers and moves them to my breast, pinching my nipples.
He’s behind me now, forcing my head forward until I balance on my hands and knees.
“Spread your legs. Wider.” He kicks my legs apart. His spit-wet fingers poke at me—no, not there. Higher. “I want to see all of you. Everything that’s mine.”
Is that how he’s going to use me? I’m so wet that it’s running down my thighs.
“You said you want me to use you however I want, but you didn’t say how,” he continues.
Shoot, is it going to hurt? Is he just going to ram himself in there and fuck me ’til I pass out? I practically come just thinking about it. His fingers move lower. I moan low in my throat, arching my back. That definitely earns me a ragged breath from him.
