impatience. “S-sure, that sounds nice,” I reply.
We refill our glasses and move to the living room. But when we sit down on the couch, Noah doesn’t touch his drink. He sets it on the coffee table—and rests his hand on mine. I look up to see his expression has turned predatory.
And just like that, everything changes. The atmosphere, already flirtatious before, darkens and thickens like the air before a thunderstorm.
“Did I ever tell you how hot you look in your office clothes?” he purrs. “Well, really, you look hot in everything . . . and I’m sure you’ll look even better in nothing at all.” He gives me a lustful smirk. “But we’ll get around to that soon enough. Anyway, as I was saying, those clothes are so prim and proper that seeing you at work always gives me . . . ideas.”
Fuck, that voice should be illegal. I swallow hard and put down my wineglass before I spill it all over the carpet.
“L-like what?”
“Like kneeling under your desk, my face between your legs, doing my best to distract you while you’re on an important phone call.” His finger traces over the back of my hand, following the path his tongue would take in his fantasy. “And then, when you make it through the whole call without blowing our cover, you get your reward. I pick you up and fuck you on your desk. Skirt rucked up around your hips, panties pulled aside, blouse open so I can feel your luscious tits pressed against my chest . . .”
I’m speechless. By how hot my face feels, I’m probably also red as a tomato.
Noah continues. “People say only women are attracted to power. That’s bullshit. Men are too . . . most of them are just scared of powerful women. But not me.” He tightens his grip on my hand and pulls it down to cup his huge, hard bulge, showing me how true his words are. “Rest assured, Snowflake, I’m not going to stop tonight. Not until you’re satisfied.”
My reply dissolves into a moan as he kisses me hard.
His hand cradles my head, his fingers tangled in my hair, gripping firmly, guiding me where he wants. Where we both want. His other hand caresses me, stroking a long line from my jaw down my neck and then back again. A slow, firm petting that’s meant to relax me, open me up to his touches. And it works. Soon I’m melting into him.
As if he can sense the exact moment I’m ready, his fingers drift down to undo my blouse. One button after the other slips free, the pace so leisurely I almost start to squirm. Not wanting him to break our kiss, even just a pause, even to undress me, I wriggle out of my blouse myself. I feel his mouth curve into a small, smug smile against my lips.
His touches transform from soothing into stimulating—teasing the sensitive spot just under my ear, tracing the dip of my spine all the way from my nape to the small of my back. My breath hitches in anticipation every time his fingers bump over the clasp of my bra, wondering if now is when he’ll undo it. But only when I arch against him does he finally move.
With a single deft movement of his fingers, my band goes slack. My cheeks flush hot and I suppress a tiny squeak of surprise. Jeez . . . I know he’s had a lot of practice with undressing women, but even I can’t take off my bra one-handed.
Noah pulls back to draw the straps down my shoulders, drinking in the sight of my breasts as they’re slowly revealed. I shiver, feeling his eyes on me like a physical caress. I’m still wearing my skirt and pantyhose, but Noah’s hungry gaze makes me feel so exposed. In a strangely good way, though—not vulnerable or weak. Like he’s seeing the real me, undisguised, and I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. The only woman in his world.
Almost worshipfully, he bends his head to kiss my nipple. I suck in my breath; even that light touch zips through me like a static shock. Encouraged, he mouths it again, wetter this time, his lips sliding over the stiffening nub, shooting sparks straight
We refill our glasses and move to the living room. But when we sit down on the couch, Noah doesn’t touch his drink. He sets it on the coffee table—and rests his hand on mine. I look up to see his expression has turned predatory.
And just like that, everything changes. The atmosphere, already flirtatious before, darkens and thickens like the air before a thunderstorm.
“Did I ever tell you how hot you look in your office clothes?” he purrs. “Well, really, you look hot in everything . . . and I’m sure you’ll look even better in nothing at all.” He gives me a lustful smirk. “But we’ll get around to that soon enough. Anyway, as I was saying, those clothes are so prim and proper that seeing you at work always gives me . . . ideas.”
Fuck, that voice should be illegal. I swallow hard and put down my wineglass before I spill it all over the carpet.
“L-like what?”
“Like kneeling under your desk, my face between your legs, doing my best to distract you while you’re on an important phone call.” His finger traces over the back of my hand, following the path his tongue would take in his fantasy. “And then, when you make it through the whole call without blowing our cover, you get your reward. I pick you up and fuck you on your desk. Skirt rucked up around your hips, panties pulled aside, blouse open so I can feel your luscious tits pressed against my chest . . .”
I’m speechless. By how hot my face feels, I’m probably also red as a tomato.
Noah continues. “People say only women are attracted to power. That’s bullshit. Men are too . . . most of them are just scared of powerful women. But not me.” He tightens his grip on my hand and pulls it down to cup his huge, hard bulge, showing me how true his words are. “Rest assured, Snowflake, I’m not going to stop tonight. Not until you’re satisfied.”
My reply dissolves into a moan as he kisses me hard.
His hand cradles my head, his fingers tangled in my hair, gripping firmly, guiding me where he wants. Where we both want. His other hand caresses me, stroking a long line from my jaw down my neck and then back again. A slow, firm petting that’s meant to relax me, open me up to his touches. And it works. Soon I’m melting into him.
As if he can sense the exact moment I’m ready, his fingers drift down to undo my blouse. One button after the other slips free, the pace so leisurely I almost start to squirm. Not wanting him to break our kiss, even just a pause, even to undress me, I wriggle out of my blouse myself. I feel his mouth curve into a small, smug smile against my lips.
His touches transform from soothing into stimulating—teasing the sensitive spot just under my ear, tracing the dip of my spine all the way from my nape to the small of my back. My breath hitches in anticipation every time his fingers bump over the clasp of my bra, wondering if now is when he’ll undo it. But only when I arch against him does he finally move.
With a single deft movement of his fingers, my band goes slack. My cheeks flush hot and I suppress a tiny squeak of surprise. Jeez . . . I know he’s had a lot of practice with undressing women, but even I can’t take off my bra one-handed.
Noah pulls back to draw the straps down my shoulders, drinking in the sight of my breasts as they’re slowly revealed. I shiver, feeling his eyes on me like a physical caress. I’m still wearing my skirt and pantyhose, but Noah’s hungry gaze makes me feel so exposed. In a strangely good way, though—not vulnerable or weak. Like he’s seeing the real me, undisguised, and I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. The only woman in his world.
Almost worshipfully, he bends his head to kiss my nipple. I suck in my breath; even that light touch zips through me like a static shock. Encouraged, he mouths it again, wetter this time, his lips sliding over the stiffening nub, shooting sparks straight
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