Beauty and the Boss - MINK Page 0,19

come on your tits, sunshine. I want to see me all over those pink nipples.”

She moans, the vibration from her throat rocketing pleasure through me as she bobs her head back and forth on my cock. I can’t take my eyes from her, from the way her hand rests at my base, her lips stroking my hard flesh, her eyes eager to please.

When I’m at the edge, I pull out. “Stroke me.”

She does, running her hand up and down my shaft as I groan out my release, my cum spurting all over her tits as she leans back and watches. She runs a fingertip through it and brings it to her mouth, tasting me as I grip the desk, my knuckles going white as my release settles, my cock still at half-mast.

I want to rub my cum into her skin, to leave myself on her so that any man who comes near her will know she’s taken. But that’s ridiculous, of course. This isn’t a relationship sort of thing. This is just discipline that she sorely needs.

I back away and fix my pants. I should leave it at this. She doesn’t get an orgasm, not after what she did today. This is punishment, after all. But then she drags her finger through my cum again and licks it.

Fuck, she’s too goddamn sexy. And her curvy body would weaken any man. I let my gaze stray lower to her wet pussy, and that’s when I know I’m lost. Yanking her up from the floor, I sit her on my desk again, drop to my knees, and feast on her, licking every bit of her wetness and plunging my tongue into her again and again as she clutches my hair. I can’t stop, not when her thighs shake, and I lick her clit furiously.

She comes on a cry, my name--my first name, Liam--on her lips as I suck and fuck her with my tongue and fingers. When I’ve lapped up the last of her wetness and swallowed her final aftershock, I stand and meet her eyes.

“Don’t make me have to do all this again, sunshine.” I want to kiss her, but I don’t. I maintain that distance, because I’m a professional. “Be a good assistant, and this will be the end of it. Be bad and . . .” And I may go too far, I may claim her sweet cunt with every inch of me until she doesn’t know where I end and she begins.

She bites her lip. “And?”

I lean closer and stroke her clit with my fingertip. “And I’ll really give you something to cry about.”

12

Georgia

Is it normal to want to cry?

I hit search on Google for my question. I’m immediately bombarded by all kinds of things that make me want to cry, but not in the way I’m thinking. I click out of the search faster than I clicked into it. I’m pretty sure none of these things are what I’m looking for.

I’d felt the tear that slipped onto my face when I’d come undone in Mr. Baxter’s office. He’d licked it from my cheek. It had confused me, because sadness was the furthest thing that I’d felt in that moment. I’d been consumed with so many emotions, and I wanted more. I’m addicted to the pleasure that he gives me. Or maybe I’m addicted to him.

I search funny kitten pictures instead, to get the sad faces out of my mind. My mom cried a lot when I was younger, so to me, tears mean sadness, and that’s not at all how I’m feeling. I pet Mr. Grumpy Pants as I swipe through pictures. I show him a couple, but he’s unimpressed.

“Are you worried your suit isn't going to fit?” I tease him. I had to order it online. I did the overnight shipping so it should be here tomorrow. “Tomorrow feels like forever.” I groan, flopping back onto my sofa. I’ll have to wait all these hours to see Mr. Baxter again.

My phone rings in my hand, and I see it’s my father. I don’t answer. I don’t clear him either, or he’d know it. I let it ring until it goes to voicemail. I should probably talk to him. But I’ll be seeing him this Friday anyway at the charity event, so maybe I should get the small talk out of the way. Maybe then it won’t be so awkward when we do see one another.

I don’t know how he’s going to feel about me going. He