Page 64 of Bobby

“What are you doing?” His eyes narrow on me.

“Um, getting up so we can have our meeting?” I phrase it as a question because I really don’t know if he expects to still have one or not. I assume so, but I’ve been mistaken about a lot this week, it seems.

“You said I could apologize.” He still doesn’t let go of my hands, which are bunched up in my skirt.

“Yes,” I draw out, more confused than before.

“Then. Don’t. Move.”

His words are clipped, but I don’t fear them. Not even when he pushes my hands behind me. Or when he lifts my skirt higher to expose my black lace panties to him.

“And try to stay quiet.”

He wheels his chair closer to the desk, and my legs inch farther apart on instinct more than anything. His fingers lightly brush up and down one knee as he looks me over. His eyes land on my breasts, pushing against the fabric of my blouse with the way I’m arched before him, as my hands are flat on the desk behind me.

His gaze stays there as his hand moves up the inside of my knee to my thigh. I squirm a bit at the feel, almost ticklish. Then he’s there, rubbing the backs of his fingers over my pussy, parting my folds through the thin underwear and making me tremble against him.

I whimper in protest. Not at his touch, but at how it’s only teasing and not what I need.

All week I’ve come on my fingers to the memory of him. He was relentless in the pleasure he both gave and sought for himself. It’s that man I want between my legs right now. Not the one holding back, trying to make this slow in a way to say sorry.

“Please.” I sound whiny and breathless all at once. I’m not loud enough for the others outside to hear me, but I’m conscious that they’re there. I might not hear them, letting me know this room has some kind of sound barrier, but I doubt it can withstand the screams this man brings out of me.

“That’s it. That’s my girl. My Wildflower.”

He growls in warning right before he bends his head down, using his other hand that isn’t touching my pussy to tilt my ass closer to him. He brings me to the edge of the desk and pulls my panties to the side a second before his tongue slides between my folds.

I cry out as softly as I can, but he doesn’t seem to care about the predicament I find myself in. The one that has pleasure rippling through me. That’s trying to come out in a scream that I refuse to release. My arms go weak and I drop to my elbows with enough force that I know I’ll have a bruise, but it’s worth it. My feet find purchase on the armrests of a very expensive leather chair that he’s using to help give him the best angle to eat me out with.

His tongue flutters up and down and sinks inside me every now and again. Nothing in a pattern that I can find. Then his teeth are scraping my clit, nipping on it and sucking it into his mouth as his fingers pump into me.

My hands flex and ball into fists as I try to fight the sudden need to come. I want this to last. I need it to. It’s been days, but it feels like months since I’ve had him. And his mouth? God, I didn’t think it could get better than having his cock inside me. But fuck.

Unable to hold back anymore, I lie back on the desk and use my hands to grab and pinch my nipples through the fabric of my shirt. My bra is thin, thank God, and I can feel the intensity of my fingers on my nipples more than a padded bra would ever allow.

He moans, sending a vibration straight to my clit that has me gasping for air. I look down at him and see his eyes are on me. Intense and set, driving this moment higher. I continue to pinch both nipples until his hand comes up and takes my place. He pulls the blouse just enough for a button to pop, giving him better access to actually touch my flesh, pushing one bra cup down along with the blouse to twist my nipple.

I barely have time to put my wrist into my mouth, biting down as I scream and come in his mouth.

It’s a quick release, but no less powerful than all the rest he’s given me. I let my legs drop off the chair as he rolls it back, absently noting my eyes are closed as I let my hand fall away from my mouth as my other one lies flat on my breast. I must look wrecked, and I’m going to need a moment to collect myself before we actually start the meeting.

“Apology accepted,” I say around a light laugh and grin, instantly hating that naps aren’t allowed in the corporate world.

“Who said I was done?”

His words have my eyes snapping open, along with the sound of his belt buckle opening and his zipper rolling down.

“That was just for not calling you back on Tuesday. I need to make up for the rest of the week too.”

The predator before me is smiling, but it only kicks up my rapid heartbeat. He’s dangerous in this position, looking at me with so much want that I could fall into belief that I’m his every dream and dark desire in one.

My legs are still open, and he uses that to guide himself inside me with ease. His hands find the arch of my lower back, and he supports me as he slides in and out. Slower than a frenzy, but a consistent pace that keeps my breath hitching.

“Bobby,” I whisper around our bodies connecting and making music like the beating of a war drum. Persistent and determined.

“Say it again. Say my name and know who’s the one making you feel this. Who’s saying sorry with more than just pretty words. I might not get it all right, but fuck if I don’t want to try.”

He grunts as he speaks, and I feel him nearing his peak as my high comes rushing back. If he wants me to speak, I’ll say anything he asks. I’d give him the world if that was his desire. As long as he doesn’t stop. I’m already so close again to that pinnacle in the sky I reached just minutes before.