Page 3 of His Secret Toy
I unbutton the top two. Then three.
I shouldn’t be doing this.
I am alone. The door to the office is not locked, meaning anyone could open up on me, finding my legs wide and my pussy pink and eager. It is a small risk, one that pushes me closer to the edge. I bite my lip, my hips moving in time with my touch.
“Oh, Roman…”
Roman Rinaldi, my twenty years older than I, forty-one-year-old boss, is the man whose name never left my lips in self-fuck sessions.
I can’t be blamed. Having access to a man so powerful and handsome, 6’3 with olive brown skin, dark, clean-cut brown hairwith even darker eyes, a muscular, yet lean, broad-shouldered frame.
Fitting his demeanor, he has a very cold office, colder in the mornings, and that is why I prefer to pleasure myself every day here, only at night.
But today, I find myself unable to help myself. There was an urge. The city’s still waking up beyond the floor-to-ceiling glass, however, so it feels almost the same.
With wet fingers, I finally unclasp my front-hook bra, leaving it dangling at the sides. My long, wavy, dark blonde hair is a mess around it. I am sweating, panting as I lean back with hands braced on tabletops slick with gleaming wood.
Underneath me, between my thighs, is the much slimy and wet wood of Roman’s Italian oak desk.
I don’t care anymore. What did it matter if I ruined his papers, his computer, his phone? Will he even notice or care?
No one knows. That’s the lie I keep telling myself.
The clock on the wall indicates I’ve spent less than 20 minutes alone in Roman's office. The shame builds in my chest, and it makes me wetter.
I close my eyes and picture him watching.
My fingers move faster. I let out cries as I become my violent, fucking myself deeply, imagining my fingers to be his cock, ravaging me.
And then I hear the door.
A sharp clack of shoes echoes in the room.
It is too fast, too certain. My eyes snap open.
I don’t move, I can’t. My hand is still buried between my thighs, and my body’s frozen.
Roman steps inside, with his long coat, black gloves, and intimidating aura; I find there is no reaction on his handsome face.
He shuts the door behind him and flips the lock.
My lips part, stunned.
“You started early,” he says, his bass echoing in the quiet, steady. “Didn’t think you’d be this bold before sunrise.”
“Mr. Rinaldi, I didn’t expect…I didn’t—”
“You didn’t expect I’d know?” He moves closer, slowly, stopping me. “You didn’t think I’d know that you’ve been on your back every day, fucking yourself in my chair, Harper?”
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I am in shock.
My name on his lips sends a tingle all over my body. I feel as green as my eyes, further disgusted by myself at this, given the situation.
I watch Roman sniff the air for a moment, taking in the overwhelming scent of my arousal and letting out a sigh, Iam too panicked to comprehend. He follows my scent like a bloodhound, around the wall of his desk, until..
"Oh my," he breathes, his eyes widening a smidge as they take me all in.
I spin around at last, kicking my fingers free of my soaking cunt. A throaty and fearful gasp escapes my lips as I realize that Roman, my boss, is very much in the room with me.
