Page 27 of His to Keep
He curls them gently against my inner wall and I have to bite my lip to keep from crying out. “Very much aware.”
“We can’t do this here.”
“Why?” he whispers roughly. “You afraid he might hear us? Maybe right now he knows what’s happening back here. Maybe he’s picturing it—you sprawled out on my couch, all wanton and needy, your skirt pulled up to your waist like a slut while your boss fingers your cunt.”
I can’t help the moan that erupts from my throat.
“My girl likes that,” he growls, sinking a third finger into my heat, groaning. “You like the idea of being overheard.”
“Yes,” I whisper. He’s making me feel too good to deny it.
“You would like it if he came in right now, wouldn’t you?” He thrusts hard and rough, and I gasp. “Maybe there’s another secretary here, working late. Or an ambitious young executive, coming to suck up to the boss. You’d like it if they came in, wouldn’t you? If they saw my sweet girl acting so naughty, fucking her boss’s fingers.”
“Luke.”
His free hand comes up to cover my throat and he squeezes gently. “Sir. You call me sir when we’re together like this.”
“Sir, please.”
“Please what, sweet girl?”
“Please…” I can’t find the words. I’m too overwhelmed, heart pounding too hard, completely overcome with desire. “More.”
His thumb starts maddening circles on my clit. “I should fuck you right here on this couch with the shades up so anyone can look through the windows,” he growls. “Hide you under my desk to suck my cock when I’m on conference calls. Spread you out over my desk to eat your cunt with the door wide open.”
“I’m going to come,” I gasp, the filthy images he’s painting too much. I don’t really want those things—nothing would be more embarrassing than my colleagues seeing me in this position. But the idea of it, the fantasy. That’s another thing entirely. Just thinking about it has my sex clenching down on his fingers.
“Shh,” he murmurs in my ear. “Hear that?”
I have to strain to hear over the sound of my galloping heart but then it registers. The custodian is humming softly to himself, right on the other side of the door. Only feet away.
“He’s so close, Rebecca,” Luke whispers roughly. “Do you think he’ll hear you when I make you come?”
That does it. I feel the heat exploding from my center, my whole body seeming to clench tightly before every ounce of tension melts away. For all his dirty words, Luke clearly had no intention of letting anyone hear, because I find his hand firmly clamped over my mouth when I finally come back to myself.
“That was so fucking hot,” he groans, kissing me hard. “I need to feel your pussy come like that every damn day.” He grinds against me and I feel the evidence of how turned on he still is.
Before I can consider doing anything about that, there’s a knock on the door. I freeze.
“Hey, Greg,” Luke calls from on top of me, sounding completely casual and easy even though I can feel his heart pounding through his chest. He stares down at me with those dark eyes while he speaks. “I’ll be a while still.”
“No problem, Mr. Davis,” the custodian calls. “I’ll swing back at the end of my shift.”
“Thanks, man. Have a good night.”
We’re both silent for a long moment as we strain to hear what’s happening outside the office. There’s a thud that might be a cart hitting a doorjamb and then everything goes silent.
“That was close,” Luke says, grinning down at me. He’s clearly amused—and still very turned on—but I feel like someone just threw a bucket of cold water on us.
How did I let myself forget where we were? His tongue and his body and his dirty, dirty words distracted me from the fact that we’re at work. He’s my boss. The idea of anyone catching us like this no longer feels like a fun fantasy. Now I just feel sick.
“Please move,” I whisper.
Luke looks down at me for a long moment, his brown eyes serious as he studies my face. He doesn’t make me ask twice though—he shifts his body and I try not to shudder when he pulls his fingers free. “Rebecca—”
“I’m sorry.” I sit up, trying to simultaneously readjust my panties and pull my skirt down. “I shouldn’t have—this was a mistake.”
A muscle in his jaw ticks. “It wasn’t a mistake.”
