he offered the type of light, inadequate strokes that barely registered as petting—and it pissed me off. This had been a day and I didn't have the patience to play around after all the drama I'd put up with even if it was part of his much worse plan. Yet those strokes seemed to build on each other, climbing and mounting one after the other even though the pace and intensity hadn't changed.
He gave me nothing more than those two fingers near my clit—not even direct contact—and I was hot and gasping as pressure gathered behind my clit, filling and expanding like a balloon. I was so close, so—
He stopped. He stopped. No more than one stroke from triggering my release, he retreated, pulling his hand from my jeans and popping those fingers in his mouth. He met me with a smug grin when I rounded on him, flushed and hollowed out and desperate for—for anything but most of all, him.
"Was that disappointing for you?" he asked as he kicked back on the bed, his ankles crossed and the tips of those fingers lingering on his lips. He was being a complete bastard but he was wise enough to do it without disturbing my laundry. "Unsatisfying, perhaps?"
I shoved my hands through my hair. "What the hell was that?"
He crooked a finger in my direction. "Take your clothes off and get over here."
"And then what?" I cried, dying a little from every clench of my core. This emptiness hurt.
He pointed at my jeans. "Off. Now."
My default reaction was to comply but his highhanded tone—after all the highhanded words I'd heard from him today—had me glaring, my arms crossed over my chest. "Would it kill you to ask nicely?"
He shook his head. "No, it wouldn't. But it would kill you to spend another minute inside your head, figuring things out and making decisions. So, as I said, take off your fucking clothes and get over here."
There was a minute where I didn't say anything. Didn't speak, didn't move, didn't look away. I replayed his words in my head on a slow loop because I still didn't understand how he knew what I needed, even when I didn't.
For his part, Ash plucked a condom from his pocket and kicked off his shorts and boxers. He parted his legs in a fundamentally uninhibited manner and fisted his cock, stroking while I stood there with my hipshot stance and sulky glare.
"Come, now," he said, patting the bed. "Before I make you put this condom on me with your mouth. And enough with the pouting, love. You're making me think this cock has better places to be than buried in your cunt."
I peeled my t-shirt off, flung it at the mouthy bastard's head. Gave my bra the same treatment.
"If you think I won't jerk off on this shirt or use your bra to bind your hands behind your back and make you watch while I do it," Ash mused, "you're incorrect."
He pressed the shirt to his face, sucking in any lingering scent of me. I had to look away as I stepped out of my jeans because there was something primitive about him breathing me in like that, something I wanted to categorize but couldn't find the words to begin that process. And it still hurt like hell. This kind of twisted-up need had to be unraveled, unwound. It couldn't be overlooked. I threw my panties at him too.
"These," he said, holding up the black cotton bikinis, "are a gift and I'm keeping them. I might not be allowed to fuck you in my office but last I checked, there's no restriction on coming in your panties while you sit six feet away from me in another one of your very prim secretary skirts."
"If you can find time in your schedule tomorrow—" I snatched up the condom and ripped open the package. With my hand curled around the root of his shaft, I kissed the rubber down his length. "—you're welcome to play with my panties all you want."
Ash reached for my hip, urging me closer. "Get up here. Sit on my cock."
Since I didn't want to argue anymore, not even to play-fight, I dropped a knee onto the mattress and levered myself into his lap. I let him tease his shaft between my folds, let him position me as he wanted, let him dig his fingers into the soft of my hips, my ass and let him slam me down until I was certain I