just look up from the computer, see her sitting there, wanting them both, everything would click into place.
“Head here. Feet on Saint’s desk. At least give him something pretty to look at while he’s working.” Her tight skirt kept her from opening her legs too wide. Boyce batted her hands away when she tried to reach down to fix the problem. “Let’s give him an even better picture. A reward for the numbers he’s been putting together for me all month. He works too hard as well. He just doesn’t know when to take a break. Sometimes I have to get a little aggressive about forcing him to.”
Boyce opened a drawer and pulled out four pairs of handcuffs. He locked the desk, stuffing the key in his pocket before securing the ends of two pairs to the opposite handles. Her wrists were first, the metal cold and harsh against her skin, followed by her ankles.
He dragged up the hem of her skirt, gathering it around her waist to expose the lace panties she’d chosen. Boyce whisked those away, spreading her thighs wide as he locked her ankles in the cuffs, then secured the free end to small pins protruding from Saint’s desk.
Something inside her head clicked into place, echoing the sound of the handcuff ratcheting closed. She’d forgotten how much she liked being at someone’s sexual mercy. How decadent being spread out, pussy fully exposed and aching, felt.
When Boyce skimmed his hands up her legs, over her heat, Saint’s keystrokes faltered for a moment then resumed. As though nothing had changed. As though she wasn’t spread out before him as a sacrificial offering.
Boyce put his mouth to her ear, and roughly whispered, “As curious as am I to know how your cunt feels wrapped around my dick while I’m balls deep in you, right now I want to see your mouth wrapped around me.” When Boyce stood, she saw that his cock was swollen and needy. He gripped the base and brushed the head of it against her painted lips, seeking entry.
Grae flicked her tongue against the slit, drawing a low growl from Boyce. Familiarity came back to her in a rush. The taste. The smell. The sound. She remembered hearing those low, throaty rumbles of pleasure from Boyce years and years ago. Sure, she heard them on a regular basis thanks to the Noble House video feeds, but hearing the low growls in person, knowing she was the one responsible for the noise, was different.
She’d drawn those delicious sounds out of him years ago. Saint had been buried deep in Boyce’s ass while she’d had every inch of Boyce’s impressive length deep in her throat.
But this wasn’t a memory. Wasn’t a million pixels blinking on her computer screen.
This was happening.
This was real .
Her nipples beaded in pleasure, scraping against the lace cupping her breasts. She accepted Boyce’s cock with open enthusiasm, loving each inch he fed her as she stretched her jaw wide. Yeah, she definitely couldn’t get this sitting at home.
As she continued to suck, the warm breeze in the room wafted over her stomach. Boyce had parted her shirt, and now ran his fingers over the lacy cups of her bra.
“Pretty packaging for such spectacular breasts.” His hold shifted, pushing up under the bra so his hands cupped her breasts, shaping and molding. When he pinched both of her nipples, she gasped around him. A small tremor rolled through her, originating from where he continued to play with her at his leisure. Boyce’s wide hands squeezed around her breasts, holding as much as he could as he dug his fingers into her flesh.
Holy fuck, that feels good.
“Mmm, yes it does, Ms. Burrows.”
Her eyes widened as she realized not only had she’d spoken out loud, but she’d pulled her mouth completely off Boyce. “My apologies, Mr. Denali.”
She opened to accept his length again, but he bent to drop his mouth to hers. As his tongue slipped between her lips, she tasted the potency of him. The rawness of his sexuality. Their tongue clashed, tangling with frenetic
“Head here. Feet on Saint’s desk. At least give him something pretty to look at while he’s working.” Her tight skirt kept her from opening her legs too wide. Boyce batted her hands away when she tried to reach down to fix the problem. “Let’s give him an even better picture. A reward for the numbers he’s been putting together for me all month. He works too hard as well. He just doesn’t know when to take a break. Sometimes I have to get a little aggressive about forcing him to.”
Boyce opened a drawer and pulled out four pairs of handcuffs. He locked the desk, stuffing the key in his pocket before securing the ends of two pairs to the opposite handles. Her wrists were first, the metal cold and harsh against her skin, followed by her ankles.
He dragged up the hem of her skirt, gathering it around her waist to expose the lace panties she’d chosen. Boyce whisked those away, spreading her thighs wide as he locked her ankles in the cuffs, then secured the free end to small pins protruding from Saint’s desk.
Something inside her head clicked into place, echoing the sound of the handcuff ratcheting closed. She’d forgotten how much she liked being at someone’s sexual mercy. How decadent being spread out, pussy fully exposed and aching, felt.
When Boyce skimmed his hands up her legs, over her heat, Saint’s keystrokes faltered for a moment then resumed. As though nothing had changed. As though she wasn’t spread out before him as a sacrificial offering.
Boyce put his mouth to her ear, and roughly whispered, “As curious as am I to know how your cunt feels wrapped around my dick while I’m balls deep in you, right now I want to see your mouth wrapped around me.” When Boyce stood, she saw that his cock was swollen and needy. He gripped the base and brushed the head of it against her painted lips, seeking entry.
Grae flicked her tongue against the slit, drawing a low growl from Boyce. Familiarity came back to her in a rush. The taste. The smell. The sound. She remembered hearing those low, throaty rumbles of pleasure from Boyce years and years ago. Sure, she heard them on a regular basis thanks to the Noble House video feeds, but hearing the low growls in person, knowing she was the one responsible for the noise, was different.
She’d drawn those delicious sounds out of him years ago. Saint had been buried deep in Boyce’s ass while she’d had every inch of Boyce’s impressive length deep in her throat.
But this wasn’t a memory. Wasn’t a million pixels blinking on her computer screen.
This was happening.
This was real .
Her nipples beaded in pleasure, scraping against the lace cupping her breasts. She accepted Boyce’s cock with open enthusiasm, loving each inch he fed her as she stretched her jaw wide. Yeah, she definitely couldn’t get this sitting at home.
As she continued to suck, the warm breeze in the room wafted over her stomach. Boyce had parted her shirt, and now ran his fingers over the lacy cups of her bra.
“Pretty packaging for such spectacular breasts.” His hold shifted, pushing up under the bra so his hands cupped her breasts, shaping and molding. When he pinched both of her nipples, she gasped around him. A small tremor rolled through her, originating from where he continued to play with her at his leisure. Boyce’s wide hands squeezed around her breasts, holding as much as he could as he dug his fingers into her flesh.
Holy fuck, that feels good.
“Mmm, yes it does, Ms. Burrows.”
Her eyes widened as she realized not only had she’d spoken out loud, but she’d pulled her mouth completely off Boyce. “My apologies, Mr. Denali.”
She opened to accept his length again, but he bent to drop his mouth to hers. As his tongue slipped between her lips, she tasted the potency of him. The rawness of his sexuality. Their tongue clashed, tangling with frenetic
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