Page 142 of Rush of Jealousy

“Did you eat enough? I’m going to have Kylie put the extras in the break room for whomever wants it.”

“Yeah, I am full.”

“Correction, youwill befull.”

Maybe I should just start stripping right now. Get this show on the road and appease him long enough to dull down some of the sexual frustration radiating from him.

He gathers up the leftovers, opens up his office door, and yells down the hall for Kylie. Once she is gone, he slams the door shut and turns the lock into place.

With deftness, he undoes his leather belt and pulls it through the loops of his suit pants so quickly that it snaps against the wall. I jerk at the suddenness, feeling like I am about to be a part of something bigger than myself. He drops the strap unceremoniously, making my head spin with need. Passion courses through my veins, snaking through the dark parts of my body, begging for surrender.

I want him.

I need him.

“Come here.”

My heart rate increases, and I feel a little lightheaded over the anticipation of what is to come next. He watches me with precision as I move closer to him inch by inch. He loosens his pants and unbuttons part of his shirt in preparation for what I know will soon come.

When I am within reach, Graham’s hands grip my ass, and he hoists me up into his arms. I get carried over to his polished desk. He places me in the center. His monitors have been relocated to the side—in what I assume was wishful preparation. He shoves his pants and boxers to his knees, sits down in his leather chair, and scoots closer to me. His hands pull my knees apart.

“Lean back onto your elbows. I’m going to eat my breakfast now.” All humor is gone from his tone. His expression is of determination and fire.

I obey. I made my bed. Now I have to fuck in it too.

I follow his directions, scooching my butt toward the edge. I feel vulnerable and exposed to him. Open and ready.

Graham gently places each of my feet on the armrests of his chair so I can keep from sliding to the floor. He reaches up my dress. His eyes stay locked onto mine as his fingers pull at my panties, ripping them from my body. He fishes them out from under me and places them into an unlocked drawer in his desk, like some kind of collector’s item. I pray that this is not the drawer where all office panties go to die.

My garter belt remains intact, keeping my thigh-highs up and in place. He flips the skirt part of my dress up to my waist and licks my bare skin along the suspender straps, all the way up to my apex. His tongue trails down my other thigh. It is slow. Methodical. Deliberate.

“If you follow my directions, I will let you come.”

What?!

“Be a defiant and sassy thing? And I will keep you so on edge that you’ll be begging for the chance to finger yourself off in private."

I nod my understanding.

“Spread your legs for me.”

I open my thighs a little more, teetering on the desk.

“Hmm,” he hums. “You look delicious.”

I throw my head back and moan as his mouth connects with my pussy. He sucks onto my clit hard and shoves a finger into me so fast that I shudder with the start of an orgasm. My vision fades to black as the fierce tidal wave washes over me. Before I can come down, he repeats his pattern and another wave hits hard. He licks at my juices and goes back to sucking my clit and fingering me, but now with two fingers. Another orgasm ripples through my body, shaking me and making me throw myself forward from the intense pleasure. He pulls his fingers out just to slide them into my mouth.

“Suck.” He pushes them a little farther back. “Gag on them. Taste how your body responds to me. And know that I own you. All of you.”

His words piss off the feminist side of me. It is the logical side that says I don’t need a man. The other side of me craves and salivates at the dirtiness of his words. But mainly the truth behind them…he does own me. While my brain has resisted for so long, I can no longer deny what my heart has known all along. I am his.

He slides his fingers out of my mouth and then thrusts them back inside of me. He pumps them a few times and then pulls them out swiftly, just to suck them dry with his own mouth. He helps me down off the desk, just to move me to the end of it. He pushes gently on my shoulders to get me to lean over. It is the scene he has described to me. Fucking me across his desk from behind.

Even though I know what he is planning, I am still pulsing from the uncertainty of what Graham is going to do. My right cheek rests on the wooden surface. My ass is exposed, with just my lace garter belt providing any coverage. I hear the sound of a desk drawer and crane my neck to see what is happening.

“Do not move, Angie.”

His words startle me, and I return to my position. I hear the sound of rustling, and I feel his hand on my lower back. I can sense his eyes staring at me. I breathe. Inhale. Exhale. Then—

---