exploring the forbidden, sharing the rush of blood and the rise between his legs with the very woman making him ache.
His palm skimmed over her belly and she adjusted her perch on the edge of the desk, spreading her legs a bit wider, her weight balanced between the one foot she had on the floor and the hand she’d braced flat on the desk at her side.
She lifted her chin. Her eyes drifted shut with the arousal that shuddered through her. Anyone peering into the office would see their heads close together in quiet conversation.
What no one could see were Eric’s fingertips scraping across the thong’s material, his knuckles brushing through the barest strip of hair hidden beneath.
He pulled the thong lower, his index finger dipping down to find her hidden bud and hovering there before sliding to the side of the tight swell and pressing hard.
Her eyes flew open and she looked over his shoulder, her lower lip caught by even white teeth as if to hold back sounds rolling from her belly to her throat.
He heard them all, and he wasn’t having any of this looking away business. His dick was throbbing, caught between his shorts and his stomach. But even that satisfaction mattered less than looking into Chloe’s eyes while making her come.
He kept his hand in her panties, but lifted his finger away. She squirmed and arched, seeking the return ofhis touch. A smile drew up a corner of his mouth. He could hardly imagine the intensity of taking her to bed. And it would happen. But not now, not here, not in this room.
This, he thought, rubbing his finger down one ripely swollen lip of her sex and up over the other, taking what he needed of her juices spreading between to ease the friction of his way. This was all that he could think about now. This giving her pleasure like no pleasure she’d known.
Again he reached her clit. Again he stopped, teased with a single butterfly kiss of his finger to her flesh. The hand she wasn’t using to support her weight moved to his between her legs.
But he wasn’t having any of that, either. Not until he had more than her body’s attention. “Look at me, Chloe.”
She gave a tiny shake of her head. “I can’t.”
He made as if to pull his hand free from her hold and from her panties. But her fingers, so small, so cool, so insistent on his, made it hard to stick to his guns.
“Chloe. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll give you exactly what you want.” To make his point, he stepped closer, moved his lips to her ear and slid one long finger through her wet folds to the mouth of her sex, then deep inside.
She stifled a cry. His erection seized up; the ache became unbearable, the need for release a tension with a life of its own. His plan was going awry.
The sweet reality was she was responding to his touch, his touch, her juices flowing for him, her hand holding him and wanting the pleasure he could so easily give. He wasn’t sure he wanted to make her wait as much as he wanted to make her come.
He fingered her again, this time slipping both his middle and his index fingers deep into her heat. He used his teeth lightly on her earlobe, bathed the nips with the stroke of his tongue.
“You like that?” His fingers eased in, pulled out. His thumb took care of her clit. “You want more?”
“I want you to make me come.” The words were breathed more than spoken.
He felt rather than heard her desperation. One finger pressed forward into the pillow of her G-spot. Her fist tightened over his hand and she shuddered from the inside out.
“Is that what you want? Or maybe this is more of what you need?” He circled his thumb around the hard knot of nerves jutting from between the folds of her sex and drawn as tight as his own erection.
When she whimpered in answer, he found the will to move away and make his demand again.
“Chloe, look at me. I want to see you come. I want to watch your eyes flash. I want to taste it on your skin.” Who was he kidding? “I want to bury my face
His palm skimmed over her belly and she adjusted her perch on the edge of the desk, spreading her legs a bit wider, her weight balanced between the one foot she had on the floor and the hand she’d braced flat on the desk at her side.
She lifted her chin. Her eyes drifted shut with the arousal that shuddered through her. Anyone peering into the office would see their heads close together in quiet conversation.
What no one could see were Eric’s fingertips scraping across the thong’s material, his knuckles brushing through the barest strip of hair hidden beneath.
He pulled the thong lower, his index finger dipping down to find her hidden bud and hovering there before sliding to the side of the tight swell and pressing hard.
Her eyes flew open and she looked over his shoulder, her lower lip caught by even white teeth as if to hold back sounds rolling from her belly to her throat.
He heard them all, and he wasn’t having any of this looking away business. His dick was throbbing, caught between his shorts and his stomach. But even that satisfaction mattered less than looking into Chloe’s eyes while making her come.
He kept his hand in her panties, but lifted his finger away. She squirmed and arched, seeking the return ofhis touch. A smile drew up a corner of his mouth. He could hardly imagine the intensity of taking her to bed. And it would happen. But not now, not here, not in this room.
This, he thought, rubbing his finger down one ripely swollen lip of her sex and up over the other, taking what he needed of her juices spreading between to ease the friction of his way. This was all that he could think about now. This giving her pleasure like no pleasure she’d known.
Again he reached her clit. Again he stopped, teased with a single butterfly kiss of his finger to her flesh. The hand she wasn’t using to support her weight moved to his between her legs.
But he wasn’t having any of that, either. Not until he had more than her body’s attention. “Look at me, Chloe.”
She gave a tiny shake of her head. “I can’t.”
He made as if to pull his hand free from her hold and from her panties. But her fingers, so small, so cool, so insistent on his, made it hard to stick to his guns.
“Chloe. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll give you exactly what you want.” To make his point, he stepped closer, moved his lips to her ear and slid one long finger through her wet folds to the mouth of her sex, then deep inside.
She stifled a cry. His erection seized up; the ache became unbearable, the need for release a tension with a life of its own. His plan was going awry.
The sweet reality was she was responding to his touch, his touch, her juices flowing for him, her hand holding him and wanting the pleasure he could so easily give. He wasn’t sure he wanted to make her wait as much as he wanted to make her come.
He fingered her again, this time slipping both his middle and his index fingers deep into her heat. He used his teeth lightly on her earlobe, bathed the nips with the stroke of his tongue.
“You like that?” His fingers eased in, pulled out. His thumb took care of her clit. “You want more?”
“I want you to make me come.” The words were breathed more than spoken.
He felt rather than heard her desperation. One finger pressed forward into the pillow of her G-spot. Her fist tightened over his hand and she shuddered from the inside out.
“Is that what you want? Or maybe this is more of what you need?” He circled his thumb around the hard knot of nerves jutting from between the folds of her sex and drawn as tight as his own erection.
When she whimpered in answer, he found the will to move away and make his demand again.
“Chloe, look at me. I want to see you come. I want to watch your eyes flash. I want to taste it on your skin.” Who was he kidding? “I want to bury my face