Misconduct(36)

My body needed him. That’s all it was.

I wouldn’t get involved emotionally – I never did.

He grabbed me underneath both thighs and swung me around, planting my ass on the desk.

I groaned, his mouth working strong and fast over mine, stealing my breath as pleasure swarmed in my chest. It spiraled downward like a cyclone low in my belly.

I tightened my legs around his waist as his fingers slid under my dress, raking down my thighs.

I grabbed the back of his neck, cocking my head and returning every inch of his kiss. He tasted like coffee with vanilla, and I felt a hint of stubble on his face under my fingertips.

Dropping my hands down his body, I started unbuttoning his black vest. It was too thick, and I couldn’t feel him.

I pulled my mouth back, then dove back in to flick his tongue with mine.

“Jesus Christ,” he groaned, eating me up with quick kisses and nibbles. “Why does it have to be you, huh?”

I fumbled with the last button and finally tore open the vest, running my hands up his stomach and chest, covered only by his fine white dress shirt.

But even through the shirt, I felt the dips of his abs and pecs and of his toned waist and back.

Something screeched to my right, and I twisted my head to see the flailing branches of the tree outside scraping against the windowpane. The leaves blew, and I knew the storm would be here soon.

But I turned back to him, both of us breathing heavily, and I loved the storm in Tyler Marek’s eyes even more.

He slid his hands inside my panties and leaned his forehead into mine. I whimpered and grasped the back of his neck with both hands, my * throbbing at the thick ridge of his cock pressing against my leg.

He leaned down, his teeth nipping at my jaw as my eyes fluttered closed.

“Tyler.” I let my head fall back, craning my neck for his lips. “Mr. Marek, please stop,” I begged.

His hot breath fell across my ear, and I shivered.

“I thought about you all weekend,” he whispered. “How do you make me do that?”

I snatched up his lips again. I liked what he was telling me too much.

He grabbed the hair at the back of my head and pulled, exposing my neck again as he dived down and whispered against my skin, “When you walked in, dressed in that short little skirt, my f*cking hands wanted these thighs” – he raked his fingers down my legs again – “almost as much as my mouth did,” he admitted.

I squeezed my eyes shut, the need becoming agony. “Mr. Marek,” I quaked. “Oh, God.”

I didn’t want to stop him, but…

I bit my bottom lip, feeling his fingers slide up and down my *, dipping and bringing out the wetness, spreading it over my clit.

And then whimpered, feeling two long fingers plunge inside of me.

“Shit,” I moaned, squirming against his fingers. “Please stop,” I pleaded. “Tyler, please.”

But he just added another finger, staring down and watching the pleasure of what he was doing spread across my face.

“Say it again,” he ordered.

I blinked, opening my eyes, even though his thumb rubbing circles on my clit was driving me wild.

“Tyler,” I said gently. “Please stop.”

His mouth curled into a smile, and he stole a kiss, nipping at my bottom lip. “You don’t want me to, do you?” he breathed out.

He increased his speed, flicking my clit faster and harder and curling the fingers inside of me, making me suck in air quicker and quicker and making me so needy I damn near gave in and begged to ride his cock.

“Tyler, oh, my God,” I cried, squeezing my eyes shut again and feeling my insides swirl and tighten.

“On second thought, call me Mr. Marek,” he insisted, and I popped my eyes open, seeing the devil in his grin.

I bit my lips between my teeth, groaning as I leaned back on my hands and slid my ass back and forth, f*cking his fingers.

“Yes, Mr. Marek,” I breathed out, dropping my head back as the whole f*cking world started to spin.

One of my heels dropped to the floor, but I couldn’t care less.

He continued staring down at me, looking like he was completely captivated with my face.

“You going to be nice from now on?” he challenged in a hard voice, rubbing harder.

“Yes, Mr. Marek,” I rushed out.

“You going to keep your temper in check?” His long fingers filled me up again and again.

I nodded frantically, feeling the orgasm coming. “Yes, Mr. Marek.”

“And I’m not done with you yet,” he warned. “Just so you know.”

I breathed in and out quickly, my body tensing and shaking. “Yes,” I cried out.

And then the orgasm exploded, spreading down my thighs and through my belly. I dropped my head all the way back, plastering my hand to my mouth to stifle the cry as I squeezed my eyes shut and let him rub my clit, bringing the orgasm to an end.

My legs, suddenly as shaky as Jell-O, released their grip on his waist and dangled off the side of the desk.

He kissed me, holding my lips for a few moments, and for just a few moments I felt like I did on Sunday mornings. When I woke up and realized I could stay in bed.

Content.

A small smile spread across my mouth, and I felt high from him.

He withdrew his fingers, and I was almost sad at the loss until he brought them up to my mouth, resting them against my lips. I opened, and I sucked each finger, my lips wrapping around him and cleaning off the proof of what he’d gotten out of me.