But once my thong was in his palm, he had me swiftly spun around and bent over his desk.
I squeaked in surprise when he pulled my arms behind my back, knotting my own panties around my wrists before cupping the fullest part of my ass and spanking it hard.
“Was that amusing for you?” he asked, neglecting to rub away the pain before spanking me again. When I yelped, a low rumble escaped his chest. “You enjoyed tormenting me, didn’t you?”
A sharp thrill raced to my clit.
“Yes.”
“I could feel you smiling against my cock while I was talking to Colin. I’m glad you had so much fun with that,” Julian said, his voice tinged with mischief.
Uh oh. I knew from just the sound that the tables had turned – as if being tied and spanked over his desk weren’t a good enough hint.
“But now that you’ve had your fun – ” Julian audibly stroked his cock behind me with the wetness I left on his shaft. “ – I’m going to have mine.”
He smoothed his hand over my ass again, building my senses up to brace for another tingling blow.
But what I felt instead was the warm flat of his tongue on my pussy.
My mouth fell open as my knees buckled hard against the desk. I moaned as Julian securely gripped my legs, holding them slightly bent and together as he switched between licking and furiously lapping at me. He groaned low, with pleasure, as if I were the best thing he’d ever tasted.
“Holy shit.”
My eyes shut tight as Julian devoured me, squeezing my knees together and lifting my heels off the floor while still licking my pussy. Oh my God. I writhed on the desk, gasping at my sheer instability – at the fact that I could still feel such ecstasy while having no control of my balance whatsoever. My legs trembled in Julian’s grip, my hands still tied behind my back and my feet now well off the ground. All I knew for sure was that my cheek and breasts were pressed against his desk, and his tongue was sliding so deep in my pussy I could hardly fathom his skill.
If there was a definition for at his mercy, this was it.
And while I was sure that Julian wouldn’t let me come, he made me his priority for the last five minutes that he had before his meeting, his tongue bathing my pussy till I saw stars behind my eyes.
My orgasm was a second from tearing through me when he stopped and rose to his feet.
“Julian!” I cried loud enough for at least someone to hear outside, but he only gave a dark laugh.
Freeing my wrists, he spun me around and hoisted me up onto the edge of his desk, right in front of his chair. Taking a seat, he spread my legs wide, draping them over his shoulders before leaning in and licking the full length of my sex.
“Oh my God.”
That was all it took to launch my senses right back to where he’d left me. Jerking his own cock, Julian furiously sucked on my clit till I was grasping his hair and gasping his name. When my furious orgasm hit, I barely muffled my lips in time. I was delirious. My back arched taut as a surge of wetness rushed onto Julian’s tongue, and my cheeks burned as I tried pushing his head away. But he refused to budge. His wicked mouth was greedy, sopping me up like I was his own personal supply of honey.
“Oh my God, Julian…”
“Fuck, I’m going to come.”
His words were harsh, tight, and they filled me with an unfamiliar sense of urgency. Before I knew it, I was back on my knees in front of him, my mouth wrapping around his cock and giving two wet pulls before his liquid heat flooded my tongue.
“Fuck, Sara,” Julian groaned, staring down at me. He watched me bring him to a true finish, cleaning him off with my mouth and then tucking his still-hard cock back into his boxers. “Jesus fucking Christ, you’re so sexy,” he growled, releasing his handful of my hair. “Get the fuck up here.”
He pulled me up onto his lap and for the last sixty seconds we had, he kissed gently along my neck while stroking my thighs. And just like the last time, it felt a little too dangerously good.
14
JULIAN
It was my turn to be late for once.
I kept the Roths waiting on the roof as I sat in the back of my car, parked directly in front of the hotel’s side entrance. My stare was trained out the window, giving only occasional glances at Turner’s asinine texts.
TURNER: 6:02 Hoult. Are you shittin me??