Page 16 of Preferential Treatment

“I sent all the household staff home,” he said. “We’re alone.”

Biting back a smile, she sauntered towards his desk, coming around to sit on the edge, just beside his laptop. “Then why are you dressed? I didn’t tell you you’d earned your clothing back.”

He pushed back from his desk and stood up, immediately shrugging out of his suit jacket. He loosened his tie and dropped it on the desk, then deftly unbuttoned his shirt. Piece by piece, he stripped away his veneer of civility until he was bare before her.

“On your knees,” she commanded.

He sank down, hands clasped behind his back. His big thighs were spread wide, his cock twitching to attention.

“Have you touched yourself since last time?”

“No, knyazhna.”

“Not even a little?”

“No,” he insisted vehemently.

“Good. Then we’re going to have a do-over. If you can prove that you’ve learned your lesson, maybe you’ll get a reward.”

“Yes, knyazhna.”

“Good. Now, show me how sorry you are.”

The pain of denial must have left a significant impression on him. He began at her feet, hissing and caressing his way upwards, worshipping every inch of her with slow, thorough dedication. His mouth and hands set every nerve of hers alight, sent delicious sensation shimmering over her whole body. When he pulled her panties away, he was careful not to rip them. When he buried his face between her thighs, licking and sucking and devouring, he did so with the same artful passion as before.

But this time, after she came, there was no smug arrogance. There was only the glassy-eyed, flushed look of a desperately horny man, deeply in need of relief.

“What do you have to say for yourself?” Kate demanded breathlessly, her whole body still buzzy and light from post-orgasm endorphins.

“Thank you for letting me serve you,” Mikhail said thickly, his voice husky with arousal and deprivation.

“Alright,” she conceded. “You’re back in my good graces. Stand up.”

He did so unsteadily, bracing one hand on the edge of the desk. Kate leaned forward, taking his cock in hand and stroking him hard.

“You haven’t earned the right to come inside me,” she told him over the sound of his labored breathing. “But you are allowed to come.” She stroked harder, gripped him tighter. “Come for me, pet.”

He groaned, bowing over, held upright only by the hand gripping the desk. His cock pulsed in her grasp, and he shouted incoherently as he came, painting stripes of white across Kate’s thighs. It seemed to go on forever, making him shake and groan, and draining an impressive amount of semen from him.

“There we go,” Kate soothed, stroking him through the last few pulses. “That’s better, hm?”

He laughed weakly. “Thank you, knyazhna.”

When she released him, he remained bent over, hauling in rough breaths. After a moment, he managed to straighten up.

“I’ll get something to clean up.” He left the office.

Kate listened to the sound of his footsteps in the hall, the opening of another door, the sound of running water. A moment later, he reappeared with a wet washcloth.

Kate reached for it, but Mikhail pulled it away. “I will do it.”

She glared at him. “Is that how you speak to me?”

“Please,” he amended quickly. “Let me serve you.”

“Fine.” She leaned back on the desk, affecting an air of indolence as Mikhail stepped between her spread thighs. Gently, he stroked the warm wet cloth between her thighs and then over them, swiping away the slick, shining evidence of both of their pleasure. When he was done, he brought the cloth to his face and inhaled. His heavy-lidded gaze met hers.

Kate stared at him as her whole body flushed with reawakened arousal. She reached out suddenly, catching Mikhail by the jaw, pulling his face close to hers. “That was incredibly hot.”

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