Page 72 of Tempt

I can’t breathe. “Yes.”

“Show me.”

My legs tremble. “Show you what?”

“Your cunt.”

I try to ruck up my skirt, but it’s too tight. Sam rears up, out of the chair, and shoves me onto my back. “I’ll help.”

He pushes the fabric up my thighs rough enough it hurts a little and turns me on a lot.

My thighs fall open, because I’m exactly as wanton as he accused me of being.

Sam leans in and tugs my panties to the side. He takes a long, slow sniff of my scent, which makes me shake in need, and then licks up one swollen pussy lip and down the other before slurping straight up the middle.

Slow, depraved, rabid licks.

Hungry, filthy.

Hot.

He wriggles his tongue against my clit at the end of each swipe, and when I buck my hips toward his face, he clamps a big hand on my thigh and presses me against the cool wood surface.

“Hold still,” he barks.

Make me, I think.

And he does.

He pins me down, making it impossible for me to try to control the way his mouth works against my skin.

I want to scream and cry out, but I swallow that frustration and let go. Let go of my desire to rush to that orgasm, let go of the panicky edge, and sink into the feelings. Sam’s ropes on my skin, his mouth between my legs.

I relinquish the last vestiges of any control I thought I had on this wild, erotic dream, and give in to what he is giving me.

Everything.

My orgasm grows like a bubble, glittering and wobbly. I feel it coming, getting bigger and bigger, and then, with a final hungry swipe of his tongue, Sam sends me flying, the bubble popping spectacularly.

“Good,” Sam says, his face pressed against my inner thigh. He’s breathing hard. “Very good.” He stands up. “That will do for now. You should straighten up, our next meeting starts in fifteen minutes.”

24

Sam

After the second meeting,I talk her into letting me unbutton her blouse, but I’m too rough and a few buttons go flying. I tug on the rope harness and pinch her breasts until she’s squirming, and then I fuck her on my desk.

After the third meeting, I tell her I’m going to need her services all weekend, and she’s going to have to stay with me in my apartment.

As she protests that she has other temp work to get to, I call us a cab.

It’s started to rain buckets when we get outside.

“This is so much fun,” she says as she waits under the overhang with me.

“The rain?”

“The role-play.”

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