Page 67 of Boss Abroad

Her tits rest above the bunched fabric, serving them up to me on a red, silky tray. I stare at them from my privileged point of view behind her and run my hands over her breasts until her nipples are two hard peaks and she’s panting.

“What? No more zipper jokes?” I pull, pinch, roll her nipples between my fingers. April’s tits feel fucking perfect in my hands. Heavy, round, gravity-defying. She arches her back, pushing them further into me.

“More, Liam.”

My new favorite words.

“Stand up, baby girl. This whole dress is getting on my nerves now.” I tug on the zipper, fighting it down, but freeze when I hit the crack of her ass. The crack of her very naked ass. I slip my hand inside the dress and enunciate every letter to chastise her. “Doctor Hadden.” At the sound of my words, I’m assaulted by images of fucking her in her scrubs. Fuck, that would be hot. Correction. Will.

I guide her away from the stools, so I have plenty of room to roam around her. “You had nothing under this dress the entire night?” I squeeze her ass with one hand and zip down the rest of the dress with the other. It pools by her feet and I’m gifted with a naked goddess who turns her head back to me to give me the cheekiest wink ever.

“Of course. I didn’t want panty lines.”

I pace around her and feel her burning stare following me as I take one slow step at a time, admiring the deity in front of me. The only thing on her body are her high heels and the goosebumps her skin is wearing. I caress her with my hands until her skin feels smooth again and test my theory that April is always wet for me.

I run a finger through her slit. There’s my proof. She’s soaking. Drenched. She moans, hips bucking up to invite my digit in.

Impatient and a tad imprudent, I push in three fingers at once. April gasps and spreads her thighs wider. Maybe it’s to balance herself better, but I take it as a welcome. It’s a struggle to start with three fingers, but not for long. Her pussy’s so wet, they soon slide all the way in.

“You had nothing under that dress while you were dancing with your boss?” I thrust harder and she moans. “While you were hanging from Max Fucking Sinclair’s arm?” My pace is faster, my palm slams her clit, and her legs buckle. April hangs on to my sleeves for dear life. “All the while, you had nothing on?” I pinch her nipple with my other hand, waiting for the answer I already have.

“I think you got his middle name wrong.” Ms. Smart Ass smirks wide, and I double my efforts, fucking her with one hand and taking turns on her nipples with the other. April might turn me into an ambidextrous person if we keep this up.

She’s a feisty little thing, and I love to see her break. It didn't take long to figure out all her weak spots. Her pussy being the biggest and tightest of them all.

Her moans grow louder and her head falls back. I stop fingering her and that snaps her head right back up to face me, her eyes holding threats she’s far too small to keep.

Now that I get her attention back, I may continue.

“This…” I pump harder and grind the heel of my hand against her clit for added emphasis, “… is what you were wearing? Not a single scrap of fabric covering this pussy?” She nods her confession. “My pussy?” She nods with more enthusiasm and pushes the aforementioned pussy down on my hand. Of course she does. She is such a good girl. My good girl.

Her head falls to my chest and her moans turn into mumbling. I can't quite decipher her words, but the tone lets me know she’s begging.

I lower my head, gather her hair with a firm hand, and pull on it to bring her ear closer to my mouth. “Was this pussy wet back then? While you watched me take off my tie and jacket for you?” Her moans turn longer and deeper. “Were you leaking down your thighs then? Were you hot and bothered crossing and uncrossing your legs inside the car? While you were sitting across from my brother?”

She looks up, outraged and ready to fight me, but her pussy betrays her, clenching harder on my fingers as I speak those last words. I’m not one for sharing, but I’d be willing to indulge her if she enjoys being watched.

“There she is, my filthy little slut.” Her open mouth suits her just fine, but instead of wasting her breath contradicting me, she moans louder when I curl my fingers on my way out, massaging just the right spot.

It’s a thing of beauty to see her face go from ferocious to compliant.

My digits sink into her with renewed purpose. I keep fucking her with my fingers and slapping her clit with my palm at every thrust of my hand. It orchestrates the most beautiful and melodic moans from her body, in sync with the slapping.

I trace her open mouth with my thumb and she sucks on it, eyes wide open, the way she knows I like her to. I fucking love to watch her watching me. Watching us. It makes my cock throb, then cry a few tears, desperate for some attention.

That hand moves down and wraps around her throat. Before I add any pressure, I ask her, “Do you trust me?”

The few seconds it takes her to say “yes” are a sweet torture. Never stopping fucking her with my hand, I apply just a little bit of pressure around her neck to test the waters. I pull that hand higher and raise her to her toes. Her eyes open wide but, as promised, she’s trusting me.

“Such a good girl,” I utter my thoughts out loud and am rewarded with her pussy tightening harder around my fingers. My lips curl to one side at her reaction.

April likes to hear me singing her praises? Baby girl, I’ll sing like a fucking nightingale to feel this pussy squeezing me this hard.

“You like that, don’t you? Being a good girl for me?” I squeeze my fingers around her throat a little more and on cue, her pussy squeezes me back. That’s all the answer I need, but she still nods it for me.

“Let go of my arms, baby girl.”

“I don’t trust my legs. I’ll fall,” she moans to me in a whisper.

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