Bad Behavior(85)

"Jesus Christ. You aren't wearing panties."

When his thumb grazed over my bare flesh, I squirmed and let out a desperate sound on a pant. He released my hair and sank to his knees.

"You aren't wearing panties." Disbelief and lust mixed as he repeated himself. I could feel his breath on me, warming my already-hot flesh.

"Please." It was the only word I could muster. I was desperate for his mouth on me. 

"Please, Caroline?" He hesitated, his warm exhale making me desperate for his touch. "I should stop. I should."

"Please." I curled my fingers, my nails digging into the papers on top of the desk.

"I couldn't stop even if I tried." He ran his tongue up my slit, and my hips nearly jolted off the desk. He smiled up at me, his devilish dimples on full display. "You taste just as good as I imagined."

"Oh my God." I dropped my head back and braced myself with my hands behind me on the desk.

"Look at me, Caroline. I want you to look at me the entire time I'm eating your sweet pussy. Understand?"

I could have come just from his words, the tenor of his voice, the deep blue of his eyes as I returned his gaze. He ducked his head down, though he kept his eyes on me, and open-mouth-kissed my clit. I moaned as he put his palms against my thighs and pushed them wider. His tongue was wicked, licking and swirling around my clit to the point my hips were rocking against him, fucking his face.

He groaned into my skin, and I thought I was going to come from the vibration. But he backed away. I wanted to drag his head back to me. He smoothed one hand up my inner thigh, and then I felt the pressure of his fingers.

"Mr. Granade," I gasped as he finger-fucked me.

Then he went back to work with his tongue, and I was awash in a sea of pleasure. He sucked my clit and moved his fingers in and out at a hellish pace. My hips acted of their own accord, pushing his fingers deeper with each stroke as he fastened his mouth to my sensitive spot.

My hips began to seize and my pussy clenched. I moaned to the ceiling as I came, my walls compressing around his fingers as a hard, thumping orgasm claimed all my senses. I was nothing but nerve endings, centered around what his mouth and fingers were doing.

I came back down, and he gave me a few more licks before pulling his fingers from me and standing.

"Open." His eyes were alight as he brought his fingers to my mouth.

I did as he said and opened my mouth for him, licking and sucking my own taste from his fingers until they were clean.

He closed his eyes for a second, as if overcome, and then yanked my skirt back down my thighs.

"I trust you realize this never happened, Ms. Montreat." He stepped back, giving me an excellent view of his substantial, rock-hard cock. My mouth watered.

"Never happened. That's right." I nodded in agreement, but inside I was panicking. Would he try to fire me for this? Would he want me off the case?

"When I say it never happened, I mean it, Ms. Montreat. Everything will be back to normal tomorrow, and this will never happen again."

"Yes." But what if I want it to happen again?

His mussed hair made it seem as if he'd just ridden me like a rented mule when, in fact, he'd been generous and given me the best orgasm of my life. "I'll walk you out. It's late."

I would have protested that I could take care of myself, but the memory of the woman in the water crept back into my mind, and I grabbed my bag.

We rode the elevator in silence, each in our own corner despite what we'd just shared. He walked me to my car and reached to open the door for me, but stopped. Again. "Good night, Ms. Montreat. I'll see you in the morning."

"Okay. 'Night." I got into my car and cranked it up. He followed me out of the deck, but we turned opposite ways once on the street.

My thoughts were a tornado of shock and post-orgasm endorphins. What was he thinking? I knew what I was thinking. I'd finally gotten a taste of what I wanted. But Mr. Granade? I smirked. He was probably panicking his hardass off. Fine by me.



       
         
       
        

I couldn't wait to test his theory of "this will never happen again." Game on.





Chapter Five


WASHINGTON

The water rushed over me, and I leaned my forehead against the cool shower tile. What had I been thinking? I hadn't, and that was the problem. I'd just mouth-fucked an associate, and in the office, no less.

I'd returned home in a blur the night before, Caroline's taste still on my lips as I stroked myself off. I'd closed my eyes and felt her blond locks in my hands, her pussy squeezing me tight, and I came in moments. A hard orgasm that had me panting and bracing myself against my sink.