“Proceed, Lannie.” Then I spread my legs in offering.
He doesn’t bother trying to kiss me. We’re not intimate lovers making a romantic connection. This isn’t a tender moment where emotions need to be blended into the mix. He crouches and bunches my skirt around my hips. His finger snaps the thin elastic protecting my modesty.
“These are sexy.” Landon’s voice resembles a growl as he stares at my covered folds.
“Thanks.” It’s not like I chose the slinky thong with him in mind.
“They’re also in my way.” He tugs the scrap of lace down my legs, pocketing the evidence.
I shiver, my nipples puckering beneath silky satin. That slight rasp is more potent than an electrical shock. I bite my bottom lip to trap a moan from escaping as he bends toward me.
He peppers kisses along my inner thigh, then treats the other to a similar fate. The tingles from those teasing touches aim straight for my core. I clench at the emptiness, a whimper almost escaping. He’s certainly taking his time, lavishing the area around my center with licks and nips. His shoulders spread me wider as he notches himself against me.
Cool air whispers across my slickness and I shudder from the tantalizing sensation. My nerves are hyperaware as I hang in the balance for his next move. His methods are intentional, getting me turned on until my mind shuts off and allows my body to take over. I’m ready to shove myself into his mouth at this point. When Landon finally connects with my slit, I’m so eager that I nearly rocket off the chair. Static convulsions collect in my lower belly, sending off sparks that make me gasp. I’m a throb of greedy desire—hot and yearning—ready to explode.
Landon drags his tongue along my most sensitive bits. I spear my fingers through his hair, anchoring us together. He swirls around my clit before latching on and sucking hard. A wheeze trips from my gaping mouth. The man is good. He doesn’t even need to use his hands for me to melt in his freaking clutches. His technique should be published in a sexual guide for dummies.
I’m already racing toward the edge after mere moments under his expert tongue. I grind against his face like a shameless hussy. Seeking relief is all I care about. I’m lost to his wet caress and disconnecting from our surroundings. Higher and higher he pushes me. A scream tickles my throat and I gulp to chase the sound away. Locked in the lion’s den we might be, but I don’t need to draw attention.
The mounting pressure is ratcheting loud enough that I don’t hear the door open. Clarity pierces the fog as Walt strides forward, directly toward me.
As if sensing our unexpected company, Landon shuffles sideways and remains out of sight. He adjusts our position while dipping under the desk, dragging me with him. As he shifts us, I’m left facing Walt while his tongue continues assaulting my clit. He doesn’t detach for a single second, keeping me on the precipice regardless of our interruption.
I shove at Landon’s head that’s still very much lodged between my thighs, but he doesn’t budge. Quite the opposite, actually. The bastard continues assaulting my sex with renewed vigor. My eyes roll back without consent as he strikes again. I squirm and wiggle on the chair, but only scoot an inch. He bands an arm across my hips, anchoring me in place. The message is clear—I’m not going anywhere. He expects me to sit here and take it while his assistant gawks at me. I grip the desk until my knuckles are white.
“Ms. Simons?” Walt is squinting at me while I attempt to stave off the most powerful orgasm of my life.
“You need to leave,” I spew out through gritted teeth. Sweat tickles my hairline.
He moves closer and I choke on my own spit. “Are you feeling well?”
“Not at the moment. I will be once you get out.” I wave a sloppy palm toward the propped door. Landon chooses this moment to shove a finger inside me, wiggling that digit in search of my hidden sweet spot. “Oh, sweet Lord.”
Walt peers from left to right, a crease forming between his brows. “What’s wrong, Ms. Simons?”
I slap a palm to the smooth wood under my grasp. “You.”
He recoils, a hand on his chest. “That’s harsh.”
As if he isn’t used to it. I narrow my eyes, battling again the molten embers surging my veins. “Why are you still here?”