He laughs, and I feel his tremors as he moves inside me. He grips on to my hips, lifts me up a little and then back down. I groan at the friction. I want to savor it, but already I'm so close. His hands grip on to my hips, and his fingers dig into my skin. I know I'm not the only one feeling this. The way he's staring back at me tells me that he's completely obsessed.
I start to move again. I lift up and slam back down onto him. He groans, his head falling backwards as I move my hips back and forth. Instead of a slow, steady build, it's immediate. It's like I've had foreplay for weeks now and I'm finally going to get to come, for real this time, with him inside me. He kisses me, my face, my neck, my shoulders. He massages me, rolling my peaked nipples between his thumb and forefinger, but all that does is turn me on even more. I lean back in his lap and put my hands on his knees behind me and rock into him.
He reaches down between us and puts his finger on my clit. Back and forth, he applies pressure, and it becomes too much too fast. The feel of him sliding in and out of me and the immense pressure on my clit takes over. My hips start to move uncontrollably. It's like I'm possessed as I rock back and forth on top of him, losing all control. I'm so close. So close.
His voice is like a growl in the dark room. "Come for me, Sara, come on my cock." And I do exactly as he tells me to. I come, and my whole body tightens as the orgasm rips through my body. He moans and groans, and I feel him swell inside me as he shoots his cum deep inside my womb. I take it all, milking his shaft until he's empty.
Completely spent, I throw myself forward and rest my head on his shoulder. His arms come around me, and he holds me tightly pressed against his hard chest. One hand is on my ass, the other is rubbing up and down my back. I can still feel the slight tremors and the twitches of his cock that is still inside me.
I thought the orgasm I had earlier in the boardroom was something. Damn, it was nothing compared to the earth-shattering pleasure I just received.
That's when it hits me. I just fucked my boss. I raise up and search his eyes, looking for some indication that this is more than just a fuck. I know he said all the right things earlier, but maybe it’s normal for men to tell you what you want to hear in the throes of passion. He's looking at me, his forehead creased, but he doesn't say a word. Not a damn word. Surely he’d say something right now if he doesn’t want me freaking out and running from the room.
I pull myself together and raise up. He slides out of me, and I pick my underwear up off the floor behind me. I almost lose my balance as I rise up from the floor. I get dressed, throwing everything on really quickly. I brush my hand through my hair and try to look everywhere but at Daniel... I mean, Mr. Tate. I almost slap my hand to my head.What have I done?I know that I look like I've just been thoroughly fucked. That's how I feel, anyway.
I turn to go because I don't know what else there is to say at this point. I hear him stand and soon after, the sound of him zipping his pants up. "Stop," he says.
I stop with my hand on the closed door. I should just open it and run out of here. But I don't. I don't turn toward him, though. "What do you want?"
"Don't you dare fucking walk out of here," he says.
I gasp and turn and look at him. "Don't talk to me like that."
Immediately he looks like he's sorry. He grabs the white T-shirt off the floor and puts it on and then grabs the shirt with all the missing buttons. He walks over to me and puts his hand under my chin and pulls my face up to where I have to look at him. "Sorry. I didn't want you to run out of here."
"We were done. I was going to go home."
He squats in front of me and lifts the hem of my skirt. My legs squeeze together. “Uh, what are you, uh doing?”
He looks up at me. “Remember, I said I’d always look out for you.”
I nod.
He tries to pry my legs apart. “Open up.”
I do as he says.
“Good girl.”
I put my hands on his shoulders to steady myself as he raises my skirt up. I’m a little freaked out, but I stand here, legs wide open and watch him as he stares between my legs.
He raises the shirt in his hands and wipes it between my legs before folding it up. “You have some blood on your thighs.”
I want the floor to open up. I reach for the now stained shirt. “Here... I’ll take it.”
He shakes his head, putting the shirt under his arm. “No, I’ll take care of it.”
The way he says it tells me he’s not going to be getting rid of it or anything. I’m not sure I want to know what he’s got planned for that shirt.
He fixes my skirt back and stands up, grabbing my hand. “I’ll run you a bath at home.”
I try to pull away. “I can take a shower at my apartment.”
He grunts, "You're going home with me."
I look at him, surprised. "I am?"
He nods his head. "Yes. I'm not done with you yet."