Empire of Desire(Empire #1)(50)

“What did I say about language?” He speaks against me and it’s like a rumble on my oversensitive skin.

“I can’t…can’t control it.”

“Because you’re close?”

“Yeah.” And because it’s him. But I don’t get to say that, because he sucks on something else.

My clit.

Holy shit. Shit!

The spasms take over me without warning and I’m falling. I’m falling so hard that I think it’ll never stop.

The fall.

The pleasure.

The depravity of it all.

It does, though, leaving me in a haze, and I think it’s over. But his stubble glides over the sensitive flesh of my thighs and he’s still lapping at me, sucking, nibbling, torturing my sensitive clit.

For some reason, I’m so much more tender now than when he fingered me. And it hurts. It hurts so good.

“Nate…I can’t…take it…” I reach a hand for his hair in an attempt to touch those strands, to push him back.

“Hands and feet on the desk, Gwyneth.”

I snap back into position, even though my thighs are clenching and I feel like I’m being set on fire. “It’s too much. I don’t think I can take it.”

He lifts his head from between my thighs and I’m a tiny bit disappointed, not sure why.

“Should I stop, baby girl?”

I don’t even think about it as I shake my head.

“Good, because I wasn’t planning to. Now bite the skirt before you bring the whole floor down.”

Oh, God. I forgot that this is a workplace and someone could hear. Please tell me he has some type of soundproof system here, because I can’t control the noises that spill free—even with the skirt between my lips—when he goes back to sucking and licking. But this time, it’s different. This time, he’s teaching me a lesson, he’s teaching me how to behave.

So when his mouth slides to my opening, I’m on the verge again. But he doesn’t stop there. He thrusts his tongue inside my tight opening, and it’s so narrow, I can’t believe it took three fingers in it only last night.

I’m a mumbling mess, my saliva pooling around my skirt as he fucks me with his tongue, in and out in a rhythm that turns me breathless and absolutely delirious.

If he fucks this way with his mouth, how will it feel with his cock? And the thought of his cock inside me makes me come.

Just like that, I’m spasming on the table, my legs falling and my heart lurching in my chest.

Nate continues sucking, licking, fucking, drawing out the wave over and over again until I’m on the verge of collapsing.

When he finally lifts his head from between my legs that have turned to Jell-O, I don’t really focus on that, because he licks his lips. The same lips that were sucking and nibbling and fucking my pussy.

I’m entranced by that view, by the way he makes a show of how he ate me, how he’s savoring me on his tongue. I’m unable to look away. Unable to even get air into my starved lungs.

“You do taste like a very bad girl.”

Well, fuck.

I think something just left me and jumped to him. I don’t know what that something is, but it feels important.

Vital.

And now, I can’t get it back.





19





Nathaniel





I’ve never been one to play games.

They’re a waste of time and lack purpose—something that fools do to feel cunning or important. That type of affirmation means absolutely nothing to me.

If anything, I’m the one who makes the games and sets the rules that everyone needs to follow.

So imagine my fucking surprise when I find myself dragged into a game I didn’t sign up for. A game that shouldn’t have existed in the first place.

I’m in the middle of it now. Right there where the game—Gwyneth—is.

You can play with me all you want. I’ll be your toy.

Those mere words turned me into a fucking insatiable beast. I didn’t only win her in the middle of the game, but I also had every right to play with her, torture her, torment her.

A week now. It’s been a week since the day I broke my own protocol and brought sex to my workplace. When I ate her out and tasted her sweet cunt.

I don’t mix business with pleasure. Ever. It’s unprofessional, bothersome, and fucking distracting.

Or that’s what I thought before her, Gwyneth, my unwanted game. Because I sure as fuck didn’t think about the risks when I told her to open her legs, then proceeded to have her for lunch.

And like an addict, the need for more kept multiplying with each day.

Now, I’m the one who seeks that fucking distraction.

I tell her to behave and she doesn’t. Gwyneth really doesn’t know how to. She’ll either drop something and bend over to pick it up, putting her ass on display, or she’ll flirt with Christoph.

We’re only talking, she tells me. We’re friends and we talk. I wasn’t flirting with him. But fuck that, if she’s laughing with him and he’s the only intern she talks to, then it’s fucking flirting.

So I call her into my office, bend her over the table and eat her out. Sometimes I finger her until she’s screaming and writhing and begging. I love it when she begs, when her little body is so much at my mercy that she knows she won’t be able to escape my wrath unless she begs.