Page 38 of His Temptation
He takes the final step to close the gap between us. “Say it again.”
“Touch m?—”
Before I can get the rest out, his lips descend onto mine.
It’s another searing kiss that leaves no room for anything but uninhibited desire. Our bodies collide as my hands reach for his neck and his go straight for my ass. He pulls me tight against him, and I feel the evidence of his arousal.
It’s the closest I’ve ever come to a dick before, and it has me gasping into his mouth. My gasp only fuels the fire. He presses me against the glass, and the kiss intensifies. Our mouths are molded together while his hands explore my body.
Each touch stokes a new flame in me. I’ve never felt so out of control before, but my body is useless. All it can do is feel right now.
As his tongue plays with mine, his hands move up to my breasts. He takes them in his palms and gives them a squeeze. Then he pulls away, and we are both left panting. He slowly starts to unbutton my blouse as we both watch in suspense. He stops when he’s halfway down and pulls the top open, revealing my breasts in my white lace bra.
I hear the hitch of his breath.
“Fuck, you’re so damn beautiful. You want me to touch you, Kylie?” he asks.
I look up at him and nod my head eagerly. “Yes.”
“First, I want you to show me how you touched yourself when you thought of me.”
My eyes open wide, shock taking over. “Y-y-y-you what?”
“I want you on my desk, showing me exactly what you did to get yourself off for the first time.” He steps closer and tucks a pieceof hair behind my ear. “The idea of your first orgasm belonging to me in a way makes me so damn hard.”
I look down at the front of his pants, where the evidence is right there. I don’t want this to stop. My body needs a release, and it really wants to know what one from this man feels like. I walk to his desk with as much confidence as I can muster.
I lean back on his desk as he sits down in his chair. His hands reach behind my skirt and unzip the back. He really doesn’t like to break eye contact with me. Our eyes are always locked on one another, like he’s gauging my reaction. Then he tucks his fingers inside the waist of my skirt and tugs it down.
I gasp as my head spins around and looks out the windows into the office.
“I have the frosted glass on. We can see out, but nobody can see in,” he says quickly.
“Okay,” I exhale with relief.
“Are you okay?” he asks softly.
The concern in his voice makes me feel comfortable enough to continue.
“Yes,” I reply, then shimmy onto his desk.
He scoots his chair closer, then grabs my legs and places my feet on the armrests. My legs are spread open to him. The only thing between him and seeing my pussy is my white panties.
I settle back on my hands while my gaze falls on how his hands move along my legs—powerful and calculated but still gentle in their touch. He runs them up the inside of my thighs and stops atmy hips. Every nerve is alive in my body, waiting in anticipation for what he might do next.
His thumb starts to rub the inner part of my thigh that meets my panties before slowly disappearing into them. I gasp as it brushes against my clit, my ass leaving the desk without my permission.
He smirks at my reaction. “I love a woman who’s responsive. Do you like how it feels, having my thumb on your clit?”
“I do,” I answer.
He puts more pressure on my clit, and it makes my pussy throb. I didn’t know such a simple movement could feel so good.
“Before I continue”—he pulls his hand out of my panties and leans back in his chair, and I whimper at the loss of his touch—“I want to see you touch yourself.”
I’m now so desperate to feel that heady sensation again that any embarrassment I had of him watching is out the window. Especially when I glance down and see his hard length straining through his pants. I can’t believe I’m the reason such a powerful man—a man who can have any woman he wants—is reacting that way.
With one hand behind me on the desk, I slide the other one inside my panties and use the tips of my fingers to pick up where he left off. It’s wild how much better it felt when it was his thumb on me. Still, I show him how I touched myself when I thought of him.
