Page 27 of Tap Left
What we’re doing is wrong, and we both know it. But I won’t let her run from it either. Not now. I’ve tasted her once, and it’s common knowledge that I never indulge in moderation.
Lola isn’t as innocent as she looks either. She picked out her clothing with a purpose today. A tight black pencil skirt and plain white blouse. It’s understated but sexy. An ensemble designed to lure me in and then keep me at bay by preventing easy access.
"You look hot, LB.”
She blushes and smooths her hands over the curve of her hips, which really isn't helping the situation in my pants.
"You don't have to say things like that," she murmurs. "I mean... you don't have to like... work at it. We already agreed. We both know what I'm here for."
My jaw twitches. She always assumes the worst of me. She always assumes that my words aren't genuine. "That's how you want to play it then?"
She looks at the floor. Swirls her heel around the carpet. "I think it's best not to complicate things. We should just be how we always are with each other."
"Right."
It doesn't feel right. It feels like I want to fuck her now but I'm pissed, and I shouldn't be fucking her when I'm pissed because Lola won't understand the awful things I want to do to her.
But again, there's that whole dilemma of being a gentleman. The gentleman in me isn't doing the thinking right now. My cock is, and my cock wants inside of Lola. Balls deep, over my desk, ass in the air....
"Lola." My tone speaks volumes. I’m in charge now, and she’s my plaything. She peeks up at me from beneath her lashes, face bowed in the softest show of submission. Interesting.
I'm testing the waters with her. I’m giving Lola the benefit of the doubt. I don’t know if what she said about her relationship with Ryan is true. Maybe it’s just what I’d like to believe, but I’ve never known Lola to be a liar either. One thing I’ll never have to question is the sex with Tom. Tom's a two-pump chump, guaranteed.
“Do you want to know what men like in bed?” I ask.
She nods, almost imperceptibly, but it’s there.
“They like it when you do whatever they tell you to.”
She looks up at me and bites her lip. “Seriously?”
"Put your hands on the desk and spread your legs."
She hesitates. Not a good sign. I think she's probably going to tell me to fuck off. But she doesn't. She puts her goddamn hands on my desk and spreads her legs. And the sight is too beautiful for words really.
I have to hold my breath. I have to pause for a minute just to appreciate this moment. To soak it in and burn the image into my brain. My chair creaks when I rise and push it away. Lola looks up at me, nervous. I walk around the desk and stand beside her.
Again, I don't touch. To admire her like this for the first time... it's something that should be appreciated. Pale blonde curls spill down over her shoulders, kissing the line of her bra strap. I fist a handful of her hair and pull just enough to test her reaction, and I am not disappointed.
Lola’s spine curves like a kitten learning to stretch, naturally pushing her apple shaped ass against my straining dick. Her skirt tapers at the knee, making her a prisoner to my every command in this position. It’s been less than five minutes since she walked in and already I’ve brought her to heel.
Patience is not in my repertoire when it comes to Lola, but today I will need every scrap I can muster. My leg is being a motherfucker today, and all morning I’ve been eating pain-killers like candy. I could do with another before we get started, but that would make me look weak. And if there’s one thing Lola needs to know, it’s that I’m not weak.
I kneel behind her and start there. Her heels are black. Tall. Hot. And she wore them for me. The skin of her ankles is softer than I ever imagined and right now I want to live between her legs. Lola shivers. My dick gnaws at the seam of my trousers. I slide my hands up her calves and under the material of her dress. Her thighs are milk, and her lace covered pussy is honey. I’m in heaven.
But heaven is hindered by her tight skirt, and she should know better to keep me from what I want. I reach for the closest sharp object I can find. Lola follows the movement of my arm, too stunned to protest when I slice the letter opener up between the seam, leaving a slit a hair’s breadth from her ass cheeks.
“Daire!”
I press my hand into her lower back to stop her whining. It’s a subtle gesture, and Lola reacts as though she’s been through this school of obedience before. Now all my brain wants to do is entertain that question, but I’ve got a willing toy to play with.
I pull her hair to the side and kiss the back of her neck, rubbing my hard-on against her ass. I can't be bothered to take off her skirt, so I utilize the newly acquired freedom to pull it loose and push it up over her hips.
There is something to be said for seeing her this way. Half dressed. Soaking wet and breathing hard for me. My fingers are within a breath of her pussy, and I can already feel the inferno waiting for me inside of her. "Does this turn you on?"
"Yes," she whispers.
I grab her by the throat and pull, forcing her to arch her back. "How about this?"
