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I started to walk away, but the stranger gripped me harder, holding me still.
Giving me what I wanted, he slid his hand under my dress and pushed my panties to the side.
Then he took things further and pressed his mouth against my neck.
I let out a slow, unsteady breath as he trailed hard and long kisses against my skin.
His mouth feels so good…
I didn’t want to ruin my fantasy with reality, so I didn’t turn around to see his face. With every touch he gave me, I envisioned Mr Dawson.
He pressed the pad of his thumb against my clit, rubbing it in a slow, tortuous circle.
I gasped, and he gripped me harder to prevent me from turning around.
“This is what you callbeneficial?” Mr. Dawson’s deep voice was in my ear.
Not giving me a chance to react, he slid two fingers deep inside me, keeping the rhythm with his thumb going with ease.
“Harlow?”He bit my neck. "I don't see how this benefits anyone but you…”
“Maybe that's what I meant then.”
“I see.” He stalled his hand briefly, leaving me balancing on the edge of pleasure. Then he bit the shell of my ear.
“Ride my hand,” he commanded.
“Now,” his voice was harsher. “Show me how you’ll ride my dick when I fuck you.”
I steadied myself to grind against his wrist, using my hips to slide up and down his thick fingers.
"Good girl,” he said. “I would fuck you a lot harder than this, though…”
I could no longer hear the music. All I could hear was his voice in my ear, my heart beating recklessly in my chest.
He held me taut as I came apart, preventing me from falling face forward on the dance floor.
When my breathing slowed, he spun me around to face him.
Even in the dim lighting, I could make out the conflicted expressions on his face.
“Here.” He yanked off my panties and slid them into his pocket. Pulling the handkerchief from his blazer, he slid it between my legs, wiping me dry.
“Are you going to say thank you?” he asked.
“For what?”
“Giving you what you really needed,” he said, pressing his forehead against mine. “More than an off day…”
“I’m still taking Saturday and Sunday off.”
“I’m aware,” he said, his lips nearly brushing mine. He looked as if he wanted to take me home and finish what we started, like he wanted nothing more than to kiss me senselessly and finally cool the simmering tensions between us.
“Don’t lie to me again, Harlow,” he said instead. “Clear?”
“Clear.”
“Good.” He stepped back. “Enjoy the rest of your weekend.”
