Wild Child. Christy McKellen
push in deeper.
Sensing she’s close now, I bring my thumb into play, sliding it over her clit in tight circles, taking immense pleasure in seeing her legs tremble on either side of me.
‘Yes, I’m so close...make me come,’ she gasps, her spine arching away from the desk.
But I’m not going to let her call the shots. I’m in control here, and I need her to understand that. I didn’t get to the position I’m in today by letting other people dictate the play.
I still the motion of my hand, drawing my fingers out of her a little way.
She lets out a shout of distress. ‘No—no! Don’t stop now. Please! Keep going!’
I smile to myself, a sense of power surging through me. ‘Only if you promise not to act up at work again. And you have to wear underwear to the office from now on.’
She nods wildly, trying to push herself onto my hand again, seemingly desperate. ‘Okay, okay—I promise.’
‘And don’t make any noise when you come,’ I demand—partly because I don’t want the people on the other side of the door to hear her, but mostly because I want to own this orgasm. I want her to do as I fucking well say in order to get it.
She nods again, seemingly unable to form any words in her state of frantic need, and I begin the deep push-pull of my fingers inside her again, increasing the pressure on her clit with my thumb with each stroke.
I half expect her to defy me, and groan out loud when she orgasms, but I’m surprised and elated when I see her jerk beneath me, biting down hard on her bottom lip and screwing her eyes shut as she starts to come around my hand. I feel her internal muscles spasming, squeezing me hard, and I experience a sort of brain orgasm at the sight of her losing herself but obeying my command.
My whole body heats at the sight of it, sending a wave of profound satisfaction through me as she keeps on jerking against my fingers, as if the greedy sensations have her entirely in their grip and are refusing to let go.
It takes a long time for her to stop moving and sink heavily against the table, as though her bones have melted, and when she does I’m finally able to tear my eyes away from the most erotic sight I’ve ever experienced and breathe again.
And that’s when it hits me—what I’ve just done.
I withdraw my hand, hearing her drag in a breath of surprise as if we’ve become one and I’ve torn away a part of her. I want to get the hell out of there, away from her compelling presence, but I know I can’t do that. I won’t do that. So instead I lift her feet off the chairs and tug down her skirt to cover her.
She sits up, propping her hands on either side of her. ‘Thanks, I needed that,’ she murmurs.
I don’t look at her. I can’t. If I do I think I might say something I’ll regret later. Instead I nod, then walk away, skirting the desk, and sit down in my chair.
She slides off the table and turns to look at me, her head held high as if nothing untoward has happened. As if I haven’t just taken advantage of her in the most lewd way possible.
‘You can leave now. Remember what you promised me,’ I say to her, determinedly keeping my voice steady.
I fold my arms again, so she doesn’t see how much my hands are shaking. I’m sure she’s going to get angry, tell me I’m a monster to dismiss her so coldly after what has just happened between us, but she doesn’t. Instead she pushes back her shoulders and gives me an obedient nod.
‘Yes, sir, Mr Chivers,’ she breathes in that delicious husky voice of hers.
Turning gracefully on the spot, she heads for the door—but before she leaves she turns back and flashes me one last guileful smile, letting me know that this thing isn’t over between us, then lets herself out of my office, closing the door quietly behind her.
I drop my head into my hands and let out a low groan.
Well, that didn’t exactly go as I planned.
Fuck!
I’m supposed to be looking out for her while her father’s in New York. He specifically warned me not to let her get into my head and twist me around her little finger and I laughed, telling him there was no way that would happen, thinking I could handle her.
Well, I guess I did handle her. Just not in the way I intended.
We’ve crossed a line now, though, and I know there’s no going back. But at least I know what I’m up against.
Anyway, she won’t be working here for long, and judging by her reputation for short, sharp relationships she isn’t looking for anything serious from me.
I certainly don’t want a serious relationship right now—not that she’s the type of woman I’d expect to settle down with anyway...if I ever do.
That’s not to say I didn’t enjoy what just happened between us. She certainly is a fascinating woman...
I rub my hands over my scalp, feeling frustration flood through me.
She’s the very last person I should be letting get under my skin right now. It’s okay for her—playing at working here, then swanning off to fritter away her trust fund on some vanity project—but it’s my career and reputation at stake and I have to put my business first.
If she thinks I’m going to carry on playing her sexy little power games she can bloody well think again.
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