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“Answer me.”
“No, I’m not dating him.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “But he did ask me on a date.”
My chest tightens. “Are you going to go?”
“Maybe.” I keep my eyes on her and I can tell it’s making her uncomfortable. “What are you thinking?”
“I shouldn’t say.”
“I thought you did what you wanted, Mr. Gates—didn’t care what people thought.” She’s acting like a spoiled brat, but she’s right.
“Fuck it.” I toss back the rest of the whiskey and place the tumbler on the cabinet. I lean back, stretching my arms out over the back of the seat. “I’m thinking the same thing I’ve thought all night, or really since the moment I saw you in class… no, actually that night at The Waterhouse.”
“Which is?”
I smirk, knowing full well she’s not expecting what I’m about to say.
“What your pussy tastes like. What your lips would look like wrapped around my thick cock. What sounds you’d make if I fucked you for hours on end… hell, if you could even handle all nine inches of me buried inside you. We both know you’d be gagging if I even half attempted to fuck your smart mouth.”
That smart-ass look on her face slips away as her lips fall open slightly.
“You want me to go on?”
She doesn’t say anything, but she doesn’t have to. Her desire is written all over her face. I’m clearly three sheets to the wind right now, all inhibitions gone.
“Now, what I can’t entirely figure out about you”—I spread my legs out, placing one on either side of hers—“is if this is a facade or if the other version of you is an act. When you sit there, doe-eyed, your hands neatly folded in your lap as you timidly agree to be a good girl… is that the real you? Or is it this woman sitting across from me tonight? Bold, pushing the limits, begging me to reveal what I want to do to her, what I can’t stop thinking about. Is that the real you, Presley? This woman right here, looking for trouble?”
She doesn’t respond and it makes me chuckle. Gone is that false bravado; back is the meek little woman with her big eyes, chewing her bottom lip.
“I’m not looking for trouble.”
“Then why don’t you run away?” I lean forward in my seat. “Every time I challenge you, push the limits, make an innuendo about having my way with you, you keep coming back for more. But you’re afraid, too afraid to actually act on anything. You want to push me to do it, don’t you?” I shake my head. “You don’t fool me, Miss James. I spotted your innocence from a mile away. I know you want to be that version of yourself, that good girl who wants to unleash her naughty side, but you’re too scared of the consequences, aren’t you?”
I slowly remove my suit jacket, undoing my bow tie, then one of the cuffs on my shirt.
“Consequences?” The question sounds like a squeak.
“You didn’t think there wouldn’t be consequences for pushing my limits, did you? This is what you wanted, isn’t it—to tempt me until I can’t take it anymore? Didn’t I warn you last time that I wouldn’t hold back again?”
I flip up my cuff, then reach my other hand out to grasp her throat, tugging her gently to the edge of the seat. “You’ve been a very naughty girl, Miss James. I think you need to learn a lesson about your bratty little attitude.”
“I-I’m sorry.”
“Tsk, tsk, it’s too late for apologies, sweetheart.” I smile as I squeeze her throat a little tighter. Her hands dart out to rest on my thighs. “Are you ready to obey me and pay your penance?”
She slowly nods her head yes.
“That’s my good girl.” I reach my hand down beneath her dress, slowly dragging my fingers up her warm skin. “Are you wet?”
“I—I don’t know.”
“Mmm, let’s find out.” I push her thighs apart, my fingers finding the edge of her panties. I run my thumb over her warm center a few times, the wetness already seeping through the silk. I slide her panties to the side, my finger running straight up her slit which causes her eyes to roll back in her head and a moan to slip past her lips.
“You’re soaked. You do like this, don’t you? You like being punished.”
I tease her, then slide my finger deep inside her, causing her to instantly clench around it, her fingers curling into my pant legs.
I pull her closer to me, our lips so close, but I don’t touch. “Look at me, Presley.” Her eyes pop open. “Keep your eyes on me; don’t you dare close them. Look what you made me do to you. You filthy little girl, if you’d just behaved, I wouldn’t have to do this to you.”
