Moaning, Sammi did as he told her and then she felt his big hand between her legs. Long fingers teased open her pussy lips and slipped inside, finding the entrance to her heated depths and sliding in deep to fill her as she moaned and bucked back against him.
Oh God, what am I thinking? I have to stop this, Sammi moaned inwardly. I can’t be fantasizing about my boss—it’s not right!
But the images refused to fade. In fact, if anything, they grew stronger. Roark was bending over her now, speaking in that soft, dangerous voice of his as he fingered her pussy relentlessly.
“Open wider for me, Samantha,” he was saying in her ear, his breath hot against the side of her throat. “Open up like a good girl and let me fuck you with my fingers. Open up your pussy and come for me while I pet your hot little cunt…”
“Oh!” Sammi cried, her hips bucking as an orgasm so strong it made her legs feel weak and trembly rocketed through her. She was glad she was lying on the bed—she would definitely have collapsed if she’d remained standing. Her hips bucked upwards again, as though seeking something—someone else’s touch. The pleasure that rushed through her was sharp and so intense it was almost painful.
“Oh!” she moaned again and Roark’s face—so maddeningly handsome and aloof—rushed to her mind’s eye. He was telling her to hold still, to open herself, to submit to what he wanted to do to her, to take the pleasure he was giving her and beg for more…
Have to stop this! I can’t think of him that way—he’s my boss. My boss! Sammi scolded herself. Yet the visions of those strange pale eyes ringed in black and the deep voice telling her to open herself for the big Kindred persisted, until at last the pleasure ebbed, which seemed to take a very long time.
Afterwards, she lay panting on the bed. Her mouth was dry from moaning and she wanted a drink of water but her legs still felt like rubber—she didn’t dare get up.
What’s wrong with me? Sammi threw an arm over her eyes and tried to push back the tears that threatened. It wasn’t that she was upset, exactly, it was just that the orgasms had been so intense. In fact, she’d never felt anything like it!
Must have been the ointment, she thought, lifting her arm and looking at the little pot still clutched tightly in one hand. That’s the only explanation.
What other reason could she give for the pleasure that had shot through her, almost electrocuting her with its intensity? What other reason could account for her having such a powerful orgasm it actually made her cry?
I know a reason, whispered a traitorous little voice inside her head. I think you actually liked getting spanked, Sammi. I think it got you off like crazy—even thinking about it got you off.
Uneasily, she pushed the thought away. That was ridiculous—crazy. She wasn’t a kinky person—she wasn’t. It was just the ointment—that was all. For “sensitive places” indeed. Sammi snorted. He’d probably given it to her for just this reason—to tempt her into using the ointment on places she shouldn’t.
I ought to confront him, she thought. Let him know I’m on to him. This is sexual harassment, after all. You can’t just tell a woman to pull up her skirt and spank her over your desk right in the middle of the workday!
But that thought brought back the image of herself bent over Roark’s desk, exposed and vulnerable as he loomed over her, speaking in that deep, velvety voice that seemed to make her tingle everywhere…
Suddenly, Sammi became aware that her fingers had begun to move in her pussy again, idly circling her throbbing clit and building the intense pleasure once more. Abruptly, she yanked her hand away.
No, stop…stop it right now! she lectured herself fiercely. He’s your boss—you can’t think of him like this! You’ll just have to put this crazy incident behind you and try to go on like nothing happened. You can’t acknowledge it or let it get to you. You can’t let Roark get to you either—if you do, he wins.
Although what the big Kindred would win and what kind of game they were playing was completely beyond her. Sammi only knew she was incredibly confused…and still pretty horny.
She forced herself to pull down her nighty and get up. She re-capped the pink ointment and hid it in her dresser drawer, to keep herself from using any more of it. Then she went back to bed and climbed beneath the covers.
Rolling over on her side, she closed her eyes and ordered herself not to think of her new boss and not to remember the spanking…or the fantasy that had followed.
She had a new life here, aboard the Mother Ship and she was not going to screw it up, Sammi told herself.