Tied Up by the Boss (Office Kink #2)(18)

I inhaled as he slid his hands up my flanks and held them in place against my lower back. “I’m not new,” I said. “But you treat me like I’m na?ve and inexperienced.”

Morgan’s hands massaged my lower back. “No, you’re not new. But your foundation’s shoddy. And you have a lot to learn.”

“And you plan to teach me? Morgan Brant, the haughty, aloof VP who refuses to attend company events because he thinks they’re beneath him and who thinks socializing with coworkers or employees blurs the line between work and private life?”

On my last word, he reached back, threaded a hand into my hair, pulling it tight. I cried out. “Don’t insult the man who has you tied up, Parker. I may not be social, but I still treat everyone with respect and have the emotional maturity to control myself around business associates, potential clients, and my colleagues.”

“Except me,” I countered, because I was a glutton for punishment.

He let go of me and backed away. “If this isn’t going to help you, I’ll untie you and we’ll go back to screaming at one another until I have your arse fired, no matter how sexy it is.”

“No! Please, Morgan. I mean, sir. Don’t stop now.”

“You may be right in that I can’t control myself around you.” He quickly returned and pressed his mouth against my ear. “Because, hell, if hearing you beg doesn’t make me want to come all over your body.”

I moaned. “Now that’s teasing.”

He kissed my neck under my ear, deep and hard, biting and licking. “Yes . . .” I knew he’d leave marks, but fuck if I cared.

“I could devour you,” he said, staring at me, chest heaving.

The fierce, lustful look in his eyes made me squirm. “Please do, sir.”

He took a deep breath, and I noticed he trembled. “We need a safeword.”

“You plan on going that far?” I gulped. Had I misjudged his intentions?

“Anytime you put someone in a situation where they’re physically powerless or that could unintentionally turn dangerous, you need a safeword. I’m not a monster.”

I blinked. He really took this seriously. My belly fluttered. He was being kind again. “How about Leicester Square?” I said it phonetically and entirely wrong.

“It’s pronounced Lester Square.”

“I know. But it’s English.”

He smiled and cocked his head to the side. “You really enjoy pushing my limits, don’t you?”

“It was either that or some refined English dish like toad-in-the-hole.” I winked.

And suddenly his hands were squeezing my sides, wriggling around my ribs. “Nooooo!” I screamed and jerked, laughing as he tickled me there. “Okay, okay!” I managed to get out in between laughter.

“What was that again?” he asked.

He stopped while I caught my breath. “Whatever you want is fine with me.”

“We’ll keep it. But if you pronounce it incorrectly, it doesn’t count.”

“Ass,” I breathed, and he pounced again, wriggling his fingers up and down my sides until I was bucking, bouncing off the desk as I laughed. “No, no, no! Stop! Sir! Please!”

He leaned into me, kissing my jawbone and up my earlobe. I shivered when he tongued it, groaning. “Men this ticklish and tied up should keep their opinions to themselves.”

Morgan reached up and ran his knuckles from my elbows down the soft flesh to the hollows of my armpits. I held my breath, waiting for him to tickle, but instead he caressed. He ran a hand over my throat, encouraging my head back, and I felt his lips on my Adam’s apple, kissing my neck. I sighed as his knuckles circled my nipples. His fingertips followed the same circle, closer and closer to the peaks, making me squirm and gasp. They were already hard and erect as his fingers toyed with them, first soft and light, then firm and rough. He pinched and rubbed them while my entire body trembled. Suddenly, a burst of cool air hit them, chased by a hot velvety tongue. I groaned loudly. He sucked the peaks into his mouth, grazing them with his teeth.

“Fuck . . .” I arched into him, my cock bouncing against my stomach.

“Always wanting attention,” he whispered, wrapping his hand around my needy hard-on.

I let out a long, low growl.

Morgan pumped it slowly. “Bloody hell, you’re hard.”

I nodded and swallowed, loving the feel of his hand.

“Should I taste you?” he asked, pressing a single kiss to my lips.

“Fuck yes, taste me, suck me. Every damn thing.” I wanted him so bad.

He leaned down and kissed the tip. I moaned. Then he licked the head, and my body shook. In moments, he was taking me down to the hilt and sliding back up to do it again.

I whimpered when I felt the muscles of his throat close around me. “Morgan . . .”

He slid off me. “What did I tell you?”

“Sorry . . .”

He went back down to my cock. He knew every sensitive spot, every pleasure point . . . licking, kissing, sucking, and even biting, which I never liked before now. He had me moaning and writhing, raising my hips as best I could in my restrained position.

He groaned deep in his throat as he sucked, and it only made me hotter. It took what seemed like seconds for me to hit the edge.