Page 6 of Unwrap Me

“I thought so. I bet if I dip my fingers in your pussy, I’ll find you wet already, huh?”

I press my lips together, not wanting to tell him that he’s absolutely right. I can already feel how wet I am and it’s becoming torturous. I want him to touch me so badly, I’m about to grind on his leg. But I also don’t want this to be over too fast.

The hand on my hip moves lower, Chris’s eyes locked on mine as it goes. Reaching the end of the skirt, he pushes the material up painstakingly slowly. He keeps going until he has the material around my hips, and it isn’t lost on me that someone could walk around that corner at any moment and find us like this, with me exposed in my lace panties and Chris’s hand on my pussy.

His fingers graze over my panties, and he hisses out a breath when he feels how wet they are. “Just like I thought,” he muses, pushing the material away before dragging a finger through my wetness, making me shudder. “Such a little slut, walking around in this tight little outfit with your pussy soaked. Who got your pussy this wet, baby? Is this all for me?”

I can feel the heat rising to my cheeks from his words. “Yes, Daddy,” I say on a breath. “It’s all for you.”

“Good girl.” Those two simple words light up my brain, flooding me with serotonin and making me a mess.

Chris swirls his finger over my clit, and I grip my fingers around his biceps. I feel my legs weaken as I arch into his light touch. He drops his free hand from the wall, wrapping it around my waist to hold me steady. “Stay still, baby girl, and let Daddy play with his pussy.”

Fuck. My body is on fire, wanton arousal coursing through me. I have to clutch on to the smooth material of his suit jacket to keep myself steady as he draws circles over my clit. I’m so eager to come, when I feel him shift, dragging his finger through my slickness until he reaches my entrance, pushing into me.

“Damn,” he whispers. “You’re so tight, baby girl. We’re going to have to get you ready, or you won’t be able to take Daddy’s cock. And you want to take Daddy’s cock like a good girl, don’t you?”

I whimper.

The sound is so pathetic, but every damn word and sound that leaves his mouth has me feeling like I could come at any moment.

All I want is his cock inside me.

“Yes, please, God, yes,” I mewl as I press my face into his shoulder.

He adds another finger, and I feel so full already, and then his thumb finds my clit, rubbing over the sensitive nerve with a little more pressure.

“Fuck,”I hiss, gripping onto his jacket. “Fuck, that feels so good. I think I’m going to come.” I’m right on the edge of bliss, bucking against his hand, desperate for release.

And then he stops.

Withdrawing his hand from my pussy, he straightens, staring into my eyes as he brings his glistening fingers to his lips and licks them clean.

“You’re a brat, Noelle,” he says calmly, tilting his head. “And only good girls get to come.”

4

Ithink my jaw is on the floor.

I’m dripping and unsatisfied, my pussy still on display. Chris might be smug, but he’s not wrong, though. I am a brat. But I still want to come.

I’m still mourning the loss of my orgasm as he moves the lace of my panties back into place and pulls the hem of my dress down to cover my ass.

“Fuck you, that was cruel.” It takes effort on my part not to shout.

“There’s that mouth again,” Chris says, shaking his head. “Was your punishment not enough, baby girl? Do I need to put you over my knee and spank you?”

My mouth snaps shut.

Mostly because I want to sayyes. And that surprises me.

But also, because I’m aching with need from my almost orgasm, my clit overly sensitive, and all I want is for him to drag his fingers back under my skirt and finish what he started.

“Be patient.” Leaning in, he presses a chaste kiss to my forehead. “I know you want to come, baby girl, but first we’re going to get a drink and enjoy the Christmas party.”

I release a huff like a child on the verge of a tantrum. Going back out there? Like this? While I’m so horny I don’t think I’m capable of focusing on anything else. “But—pleaseee?”Chris responds with a look of disapproval.

“Don’t whine,” he says, squeezing my hip in warning. “There will be time for begging later, but this isn’t it.”

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