hair tight and use a little force to make her give him what he needed the most. He held back, always in control, when she was dying for him to dominate her and take whatever pleasure he desired the most.
Another time, she promised herself. For now, she made his orgasm her ultimate goal. She continued blowing him, increasing the friction of her fingers along the hard column of flesh, and deepening the wet suction of her mouth as she doubled her efforts to make him come. His entire body tensed, and he gasped a warning, tightening his fingers in her hair to pull her head away.
She refused to release him. His hips jerked wildly, and she felt the tell-tale pulsing of his cock in her mouth give way to a surge of warmth that she didn’t hesitate to swallow. With a hum of feminine power and delight, she finished him off, until she’d wrung him dry and he sagged back against his leather chair, dazed and temporarily wasted.
She remained kneeling in front of Dean, back arched slightly, hands resting on her thighs, waiting patiently for him to recover, because she wasn’t done seducing him just yet. He glanced down at her, and she watched as his gaze darkened as he took in her very subdued, obedient-like pose, something she suspected would rouse him all over again.
Oh, yeah, he liked her subservient demeanor. A lot. They’d never played at being dominant/submissive, but there had been enough instances in the bedroom when he’d displayed just enough aggression to give her the indication that he was on the cusp of tipping over into a more authoritative role sexually, yet was denying his true nature and had been for years.
But exploring those D/s themes was for another day, another time, when they weren’t confined to his office with the possibility of being interrupted.
Still wearing her red lacy bra, G-string, and fuck-me stilettos, she rose to her feet and leisurely skimmed her hands down her stomach, smiling to herself as his sinful gaze tracked the direction her fingers were heading . . . right into the waistband of her panties.
“I have another surprise for you,” she said huskily.
“I don’t know that I can handle another surprise,” he said, though he hadn’t looked away from where her fingers had disappeared.
She laughed softly. “Oh, I think you can.”
Hooking her thumbs into the thin strings at the sides of her hips, she pushed her panties down and let them fall away, revealing her freshly waxed mound.
He groaned his appreciation, and she teased him a bit more, grazing the tips of her fingers along the smooth, newly naked flesh. He’d always wanted her to go completely bare, and she’d never had the nerve. But she had to admit that getting a full Brazilian wax had been quite liberating.
He flashed her one of his patented bad boy grins . . . the same one she’d fallen hard and fast for back in high school. The same one that still had the ability to make her weak in the knees now.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think today was my birthday.”
She tipped her head to the side, letting her long dark hair tumble sexily over her shoulder. “Would you like to see . . . everything?” she teased.
“Hell, yeah,” he said without hesitation. “Sit on my desk, spread your legs, and show me.”
His demand ramped up her own excitement. Pushing aside the papers and files he’d been perusing when she’d arrived, she lifted herself up onto his desk, so that her legs were dangling. But she didn’t give him the view he’d asked for . . . not just yet. He was still sprawled in his leather chair, much too far away, his body deceptively lax.
She crooked her finger at her husband. “Come closer. You’re too far away and I want to make sure you get a very good look.”
“You’re fucking killing me,” he muttered, though there was unmistakable humor in his voice as he rolled his chair closer.
Before she could open her legs, he wrapped his long, strong fingers around one of her ankles and placed the stiletto heel on the leather armrest of his chair, then did the same to her other leg, spreading her indecently, shamelessly wide.
“Do not move your feet,” he ordered as he sat up in his chair, which brought him intimately close to the crux of her thighs. “Lean back on your arms so I can see every smooth, waxed inch of you.”
She did as