Page 11 of His Pretty Little Thief

I blush, and I reach down for my heels, but he stops me.

“No. Those stay on.”

I look up and catch the sly, hungry look on his face, and heat teases through me as I nod.

“Okay.”

I walk slowly towards him sitting in the chair, my pulse thundering so loud in my ears it’s almost drowning out everything else. My nipples pucker to points under his gaze, and I can feel the heat pulsing between my thighs as I come to a stop right in front of his chair. Knox growls, sitting up and reaching for me, but I stop him with a coy grin and a wag of my finger. I can see the flash of red in his eyes—he’s not a man used to the word “no” or his wishes not being followed.

“It’s my turn,” I whisper, seductively, I hope.

This is it. It’s time to get what I really came here for. Time to ignore the way I feel when he looks at me, or touches me, or even just the way he talks to me in a way that makes me want to melt into him. I’m here for a job, and that’s it. Maybe this is my never having had a one-night stand before getting in the way—clouding my emotions when I should be seeing it as just carnal sex.

But still, I feel guilty. I mean, this is a one-night thing. Of course, it is with him. But even just the last hour being with him is possibly the best time I’ve ever had with a man. It’s definitely the best time I’ve ever had with a man, actually. And even if I want to remind myself as loud as I can that this is just supposed to be sex, I can’t ignore the feelings swelling up powerfully inside of me, or the way my heart races like crazy when he even just looks at me.

Good lord, is it possible to fall in love with someone at first sight? How about love at first orgasming on his tongue with my dress around my waist and my ass against the glass of his penthouse elevator for all of midtown Manhattan to see?

…Because I think I just did.

But the job is why I’m here. That’s it, and that’s what I have to keep reminding myself.

Slowly, I sink to my knees in front of him, my skin tingling with excitement, and my legs squeezing tight together as heat pools between them. I reach for his belt, my fingers shaking so bad I can barely even move it. But I force myself to calm down, and just do it. After all, I’m supposed to be this elegant little seductress, not an awkward, shaking little virgin.

…Even if I am.

I manage to get the belt undone, and when I reach for his zipper, I gasp as the thick bulge under his pants throbs against my fingers. I bite my lip, panting quietly as I slide the zipper down, pulling his pants apart. He lifts his hips, allowing me to tug the slacks down his muscled thighs, and when my eyes land on the huge bulge in his briefs, my jaw drops a little.

Holy shit.

Everything blurs around me, and I can feel my pulse thundering as I slide my hands back up his thighs, and over his briefs, barely brushing his bulge as I move for his waistband.

“You want to taste me, sweetness?” he growls, his abs flexing and rippling as I slip my fingers under the waistband of his briefs and start to pull.

“Yes,” I whisper heatedly, my pulse racing as I pull lower and lower. My eyes are wide as they follow the seductive little trial of trimmed, dark hair down from his abs, lower and lower, until with a small gasp, I get to the thick base of his cock.

Holy fuck.

I pull lower, and lower, my eyes going wide and my jaw dropping as his length just keeps going. Until suddenly, his cock springs free of his briefs and swings up, slapping rock hard against his abs as I just stare.

Oh. My. God.

He’s enormous—so, so thick, so long I doubt I could even fit him in both hands, and with this fat, swollen head pulsing at the top. I swallow thickly, my body reacting like some sort of primal impulse at just seeing his cock—my skin tingling, and my pussy growing wetter and wetter by the second. His head is glistening in the dim light of the room, and I gasp as I watch a white drop of his cum trickle down the underside of his shaft, down over his big, heavy-looking balls.

It doesn’t matter that I have nothing to compare him to. Even I know that Knox Carmichael is freaking huge. And I am so, so incredibly and achingly wet for him. I shouldn’t be, of course. I shouldn’t be this eager for him, or this turned on, or this desperate to know what he tastes like, or how it would feel with that big dick sliding into my tight, virgin cunt.

This is a job. But there’s no pretending otherwise. There’s no denying that I am this eager for him, and this turned on, and this desperate to feel all of him.

I reach out with an eager, trembling hand, and when my small fingers wrap as much around his shaft as they can, I gasp. He’s so warm, and so hard. And yet at the same time, so silky soft too. I swallow, biting my lip with my eyes just locked on him as I slowly stroke him with one hand. I bring my other up to join the first, grasping him with both hands as I slide them up and down, and Knox groans deeply.

“Fuck, little one,” he growls through clenched teeth. “Your soft hands feel so fucking good on my cock.”

“I know something else that will, too,” I whisper. And with a burst of confidence and a surge of heat through my core, I lean forward, lick my lips, and press them against his swollen crown.

And Knox hisses in pleasure.

I moan, growing bolder as I kiss my way down his big shaft. My tongue darts out, licking at him furtively at first before I get more comfortable. I drag my tongue up the underside of him, loving the way he gets even harder in my hands, and the way he grunts in pleasure. I tease up to his head, and this time, my lips part, and I slide them down over his fat, swollen cock.

And damn does he feel good.

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