Page 29 of The Unplanned Wedding

The confidence in his voice is like a siren call to a part of me only he can reach. No way, can I disobey him. I was born...to do what he wants. Instinct has me pushing aside the gusset of my panties. It’s sheer instinct that has me holding it there, baring my pussy for his perusal. Instinct which has me staying still as he takes in his fill. He's looking at me. Noticing me. This is the pinnacle of pleasure, to have his full attention right now. I'll do anything he wants to keep the light of his gaze trained on me.

Then he raises his foot just enough that his big toe, with its trimmed nail, rubs up between my pussy lips again. Goosebumps pop on my skin. Liquid heat shoots out from the point of contact and zips through my veins.

I’m trembling so badly, the strain of holding my position makes my thighs hurt and my knees scream for relief, but the pain only adds to the feeling of being so alive and in the moment. He wants me to do this, and I’m not going to fail him. I’ve never felt this vital. This…everything. The fact that he’s watching my reactions closely, and that my cunt is bared for him to use as he sees fit, sends pleasure rippling up my spine. It’s unbelievably filthy, and it shouldn’t turn me on, but it does.

Moisture drips down my inner thigh. My pussy quivers. Emptiness gnaws at my insides. I look at him with a beseeching expression, not sure what I’m asking for, but once again, instinct dictates he’ll know what I want. He implied as much, and it’s with a sense of relief that I await his next order.

"How do you feel?" he asks in a conversational tone.

"I… I feel… Hot and shivery."

"And?"

"And needy."

He nods imperceptibly. "And?"

I swallow, "And like there’s an aching void in my center."

He holds my gaze, unblinking. Apparently, he needs me to be more honest with my words.

"And like you need to direct me on what I should do to find relief," I murmur.

"I didn’t hear that." He smirks.

Oh god.He did hear that, but he wants me to repeat myself, and I should be upset by that, but instead, it only turns me on further. That he knows how to tease me and tug on my emotions is so satisfying. It makes me want to please him further and turns my insides to jelly.

Liquid heat trickles down from between my legs. Sensations zip under my skin. It feels like I’ve plugged my finger into an electric socket, and the current is surging through my blood.

“Tell me what to do next,” I plead.

He leans back further in his chair. The indolent angle of his body, the way he places his elbow on the armrest and taps his fingers on it, indicates I haven’t said the right thing. The patience in his eyes signals that, until I do, he’ll be happy to see me kneeling here with his toe pushing into my pussy, feeling the evidence of my desire trickle down his foot, and not do anything about it.

I resist the urge to cry out in frustration, knowing that will only delay things. Instead, I bite the inside of my cheek. "Please, please instruct me, Sir." Instinct again. That’s why I add that honorific at the end of thesentence, and I'm rewarded when he goes still. And I know I’ve pleased him when he pushes up his foot, so his big toe stabs into the space between my pussy lips.Ohmigod!

A rush of intense pleasure zips through my veins, and the only reason I don’t cry out is because I’ve squeezed my lips shut. The noise that slips out of me seems to assuage him, for he nods.

"You may use my foot," he says in an almost kind voice.

Instantly, I lower myself until the edge of his big toe breaches my slit. I throw my head back, squeeze my eyelids shut and grip my dress, which is bunched around my waist.

I begin to ride my boss’ foot. I lower and raise myself. Again. And again. My nipples bead, my stomach squeezes in on itself. And when he growls, "That’s it, get yourself off like a good girl," a fierce surge of gratification grips my thighs. It squeezes my pussy, and bolts up my spine andohgod, hogged, I’m so close.

Three weeks ago, I was an out-of-work assistant trying to take care of her family. Now, I have money in my account, have started paying off my debts, and I'm at the society gathering of the year, with my pussy riding my boss’s foot. What is my life, even?

A shiver eddies up my spine. I can’t stop the moan that spills from my lips.

That’s when he pulls his leg back. My climax flutters at the edge, then stalls.

"What— Wait!" I lower my chin and snap my eyes open. "I need to come."

"All in good time. Meanwhile"—he nods toward his big toe—"look at the mess you made, you filthy girl. Lick it off."

"You’re joking," I say, half in horror, half with this crazed sensation of lust which seems to have attached itself to every sense in my body.

He glares at me, and my nerve-endings spark in response.Oh my god, he means it.And worse, I’m going to do it because it doesn’t feel wrong. It feels like the kind of thing I want to do for him happily. I slide back, my knees cushioned by the rug, then bend and lick off the moisture that clings to his toe. The sweet taste of myself mixed with the darker edge of his skin goes straight to my head. It’s filthy and dirty and so, so, sexy.How can it be sooo sexy?For a second, I picture how it would look to someone on theoutside. Me, with my expensive gown crumpled around my waist and showing the curve of my butt as I supplicate myself to my boss and bend down to lick my cum off his foot. And the image I create in my mind is so erotic. So arousing. So explicit. My breasts swell, my pussy feels heavy, and oh god, I’m even more aroused now.

When I look up, he leans in and, with his thumb, scoops up a drop from the edge of my lips. He brings it to his mouth and sucks on it. My clit throbs in response.

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