Overlooked(2)(52)

“We can’t. We’re in that guy’s office.” We can’t do this in here.

“I don’t care.”

“This is his hotel. Couldn’t we find a room or something?”

“That would take too long.”

I open my mouth to protest, but his lips are on mine so fast I can’t. I can’t believe we’re doing this in here. Or that we’re doing this at all. It’s definitely not the reason I came here for, but holy cow am I glad it turned out this way. To be honest, I don’t think I could wait to get a room anyway.

Is the door locked? God, I hope the door’s locked.

Lawson trails kisses down my neck, sending shivers over my skin.

“Thanks for wearing such a little sundress today. When I saw you standing there in it, I was ready to pin you down in the middle of the lobby and fuck you until you screamed loud enough to wake everyone in the building,” he says into my ear.

“You wouldn’t.” My heart pounds faster at his words, remembering how angry I was at him when I’d first arrived. And how that anger has vanished and been replaced with an intense need to feel him in me.

“You’re lucky I got you this far.” His mouth connects with mine again, our tongues frantic as he continues to grind against me.

I’m lucky all right, lucky I’ve got him.

He edges his hand up underneath the skirt of my dress and drags his fingers over my panties. They travel over the cotton fabric between my legs, and he groans in approval.

“You’re as wet as I am hard.”

“You have that effect on me.” The tingling between my legs is intense, and I straddle his leg in an attempt to get some relief. Being in his arms, tasting him, and feeling how hard I make him, has me on the brink of orgasm already.

Between kisses he says, “I can’t wait to bury my cock in this white hot heat. Is that what you want, Skye? You want me to fill your tight pussy until it’s a quivering wreck?”

“Please,” I beg, my voice breathy.

“Please what?”

“Please, sir,” I say, trying to contain my smile. He’s wearing a suit today. I’ve decided I love the suit, the prick, as much as I love the T-shirt.

Lawson growls at my words and says, “I was going for ‘please fuck me’, but I’ll take that any day.”

He pulls his head away and surveys the room. I don’t know where he thinks this is going to happen. There’s nothing in this room except the desk and the table.

He grips my shoulder and leans me over the table.

“Stay there,” he says, releasing his grip on my shoulders.

His hands slide down over my back, following the curve of my waist. He flips up my dress and yanks away my panties, exposing me. My breath is fast with anticipation, and my eyes closed while I wait for whatever he’s going to do.

I flinch as his fingers part me and roam through my slick folds. A moment later, his hot breath blows across my entrance.

My body is prickling, wanting more, waiting impatiently for him to touch me deeper. To do the things to me he does.

His tongue lashes against me before dipping in and out of my entrance. He’s full on tongue fucking me, when he suddenly pinches my clit and rolls it between his fingers. I gasp and grip the edges of the table as the fervor in my body increases.

I moan in protest when Lawson takes his tongue and fingers away. He licks through my folds until he reaches my swollen nub. Sucking it into his mouth, he flicks it with his tongue as his fingers push into my entrance.

The sudden action forces a gasp from me. They move in a rhythm, pushing and tugging me until my hands are locked in a white-knuckled grip on the table.

Lawson’s finger from his other hand moves in, and at the same time he takes his mouth away. His finger lightly presses on it and moves it in circles. I flinch as he bites down on my ass.

“Stop fighting it, Skye, let yourself go and accept the way I make you feel.”

His words are like a current of electricity over my body. All my muscles tighten then release in unison as a massive orgasm washes over me.

I can’t control myself, a high-pitched noise escapes my lips. I’m still gripping the table tight, and I tip the whole thing up as I try to get his fingers deeper and deeper into me.

“Fuck, yeah, that’s what I want,” he says.

Lawson’s fingers don’t stop until I stop rocking the table. He slides his arm under my waist and pulls me up, spinning me until I’m facing him. Our mouths connect, my taste on his tongue arousing me all over again.

“Sit on me,” he says, springing his dick free from his suit pants and boxers.

He flops back into the chair, and urges my leg up. Straddling him, I hover over his dick. I wrap my arms around him, wanting to be as close to him as I can.