Page 108 of Going Deep
She gasped in shock. “I don’t do any of those things!”
“Sure you do.” He stepped forward until the toes of his shoes nudged her pumps. “You’ve been shaking your ass at me for months now, practically begging for it.”
Her breath was coming in short little pants, her chest heaving. “Mr. O’Reilly, I have to ask you to leave.”
“You don’t want me to leave, Ms. Dowling.” He leaned down so his breath washed across her ear. “You want me to stay and fuck you.”
Her strangled gasp was like music. “I do…do not,” she managed, and he laughed.
“Your mouth says no, Ms. Dowling,” he told her, “but your body says something else.”
He skimmed the back of his hand down her chest, her sharp intake of air pushing her breast into his hand and making him smile. Her nipple was clearly visible through the thin silk of her blouse, the peak pressing against the soft material. She let out a soft whimper as his knuckles grazed her.
“You expect me to believe you just forgot a bra today, Ms. Dowling?” He scraped his knuckles back up, catching the nipple between his fingers and squeezing lightly. “I can see right through this prim little blouse. Just like you wanted me to.”
“No,” she whimpered. “That’s not true.”
He twisted his fingers, tweaking the nipple. She let out a squeak and arched reflexively. “It’s not nice to lie, Ms. Dowling.” He twisted his fingers again and watched her eyes go blind. “Try again.”
She had to swallow twice before she could speak. “Yes.”
He squeezed his fingers, increasing the pressure on her trapped nipple. “Yes, what?”
“Yes, I wanted you to see my nipples,” she moaned.
He grinned. “Yeah, you did.” He kept his voice low, slightly mocking. “So let’s see them.”
He moved swiftly, snatching her hands from the edge of the desk and yanking them behind her back. He wrapped one hand around both her wrists, forcing her back to arch, pressing her against his chest. He curled the fingers of his other hand into the high neckline of her blouse. He worried for a moment that he might be destroying a favorite blouse, then dismissed it. He’d buy her a new one.
He yanked.
Her shocked gasp was accompanied by the ping of buttons hitting the desk, the floor as the blouse fell apart. It hung open on either side of her torso, the ragged edges framing her breasts.
“Pretty tits, Ms. Dowling,” he murmured, and watched her flush from her chest all the way to her hairline. He used his free hand to squeeze, plump, and pinch until she was writhing, her body twisting against his hold.
“Hold still,” he growled, hardening his voice, and she froze. He flicked his gaze over her face. Her mouth was soft, lips slightly open, and her eyes were locked on his. “Good girl,” he said softly, and watched her lips curve in a small smile.
He let his gaze soften momentarily, letting her see the approval and the love, before he narrowed his eyes. “What should I do with these pretty tits, hmmm?” he asked, closing his hand roughly over one soft globe. The nipple was so hard it was stabbing into his palm, and the beat of her heart was like thunder under his fingers.
“Tell me, Ms. Dowling,” he continued, lowering his head so he spoke directly into her ear. Her shiver made him grin. “Tell me what you wanted me to do with these pretty, pretty tits.”
“Nothing,” she gasped. “You’re my student. I can’t…”
He shook his head in mock disappointment. “I warned you not to lie, but maybe you need a more tangible reminder.” He raised his hand and slapped her right breast.
Ginger’s whole body jerked in shock as his hand made contact with her breast. The sharp sting stole her breath even as it made her pussy clench.
He laughed, dark and dangerous. “I think you liked that.” He did it again, striking the opposite side, and her hips jerked forward.
“Fuck,” he muttered, and she blinked the stars from her eyes to see him staring at her breast. She looked down.
Against the pale skin of her breast, the imprint stood out like paint. Glowing red, three stripes on the inner curve of her breast, three on the outer, and she knew they’d exactly match the shape of his fingers.
His eyes blazing with green fire, he traced the edges of the marks with one fingertip. “Beautiful,” he murmured, and she flushed with pleasure.
“Since you liked that so much,” he drawled, and she shivered at the silky tone. She held her breath for a moment of humming anticipation, then his hand was falling again.
Slap! Slap! Slap! His hand fell over and over, first on the inside of her breast, then the outside, then the inside again. Then he shifted his body and switched his attention to her left breast.
