Page 8 of Dirty Legacy

“Yes,” I say and really, really mean it.

“Stroke yourself. Slowly. Do it now.”

Oh, god.

I obey, because I desperately want to. My hand presses as I move down my pussy, pressing against my lips, palm then fingers grazing against my swollen, aroused clit.

“Like this?”

“Just like that, angel. Up and down. Does that feel good?”

“So good,” I say, a moan escaping my lips. It’s so dirty and I shouldn’t be making noise like that, but I also shouldn’t be letting my boss watch me like this, so it’s time to let go. I stroke a little firmer. “Oh, fuck, Mr. Maguire.”

“You dirty girl,” he groans. How the hell am I making him come undone? Just by touching myself? “Hand inside your panties now.”

I do it eagerly. I’m so freaking wet it’s amazing. My fingers slide up and down and I moan louder. “Mr. Maguire,” I whimper. “You’re staring.”

“Fingers inside. Deep inside.”

I gasp, arching, as I do it. I sink them in, shoulders balling, chin to my chest. “Fuck.”

“Just like that. Look at you, angel, you’re trembling. You’re so beautiful it makes me want to ruin you.”

“Please,” I whisper.

I look over my shoulder. He’s closer, stroking himself faster. “Please, what?”

“More.”

“More, what?”

“I want… I want more.” I bite my lips, whimpering, moaning as I touch myself. “Don’t make me say it.”

“But you have to, angel. Tell me what you want. Obey me.”

I gasp at that word, obey, and cry out with pleasure. “I want you to fuck me, please.”

He lets out a growl of need, pure lust and animal want. He crosses to me, his briefs coming off, getting kicked aside. My eyes widen at his cock—it’s thick, vein-covered, massive. Ink comes right to the edge of his shaft, some spilling onto the bottom. Roses and flowers. How much of him is covered in tattoos?

His hand grabs my wrist, the one between my legs. I whimper, breathing fast, afraid. Connor Maguire is huge. His cock is enormous. He could break me. No, he’s going to break me. I’ll be ruined after this, but I don’t care. Nothing matters, not anymore.

Only him.

Slowly, he pulls my hand from between my legs, and lifts it to his lips.

I almost scream, it’s so sexy, as he licks my fingers. He sucks them, his tongue soft and warm, low growls in his throat like he’s loving it. “Honey, salt, heaven,” he says against my skin. “You taste so fucking good.”

“Mr. Maguire…”

He puts my hand back on the couch and tugs my panties down. I yelp, breathing hard.

“Tell me you want me to fuck you now, angel.”

“Do I have to obey?”

His palm grips my hair and tugs my head back. I gasp in surprise at the sudden, powerful display of control. “Yes, angel, you know that. You don’t get what you want unless you do as I say.”

“Please, Mr. Maguire.”