Page 112 of His Good Girl

I almost smiled as I returned to my own work. Avery typed steadily for another half hour, her focus impressive given thecircumstances. I watched her from the corner of my eye—the determined set of her mouth, the way she tucked her hair behind her ear when concentrating, the occasional subtle shift that told me she was feeling the aftermath of our morning.

Then my phone buzzed with a text.

Dana:The mayor’s office is rescheduled for 2:15.

I looked at Avery.She was watching me, her hands still on her keyboard. I lifted an eyebrow. Her cheeks turned pink, but she held my gaze.

“Do you need a break?” I asked.

“I could eat.”

It was not what she needed, and we both knew it. I stood, buttoning my jacketslowly on purpose.She watched my hands.

“Come here, young lady.”

She rose and walked around her desk, stopping a few feet from me. She was still wearing the ivory blouse, though she had redone the top buttons. The sight made me want to unbutton them again, slowly, just to watch her hold her breath.

“Turn around,” I said.

Her breath caught. She turned, presenting her back to me, her posture slightly tense. My hands settled on her hipsand my gaze flicked down to her bare ass.It was still pink and there were a few marks from my belt striped across her cheeks.

“Does it hurt?” I asked softly.

She nodded.

“Good.”

She shivered.

“During lunch,” I instructed, my hands moving to the backs of her thighs, “you will sit with your bare ass on the chair, and you will eat whatever Benjamin brings you. You will not squirm too obviously. You will not touch yourself. And you will remember that I’m the one who made you sore this morning.”

“Yes, sir,” she whispered, her hands clenching at her sides.

I slid my hands up her thighs around her hips and down her tummy, finding the soft skin where her thighs met. She was still wet for me.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” I said softly.

“I’m thinking about how you made me sore this morning,” she replied, her voice trembling slightly.

“And?”

“And I liked it,” she confessed.

I hummed in approval, one finger brushing lightly against her wetness without entering. She whimpered softly, pressing her thighs togetheras I lightly teased her clit.

“Do you need to come for me?”I asked.

She nodded immediately, her breath coming faster.

“Please, sir.”

I stood up from my chair, pressing harder, rubbing her faster. In a low voice, I spoke into her ear: “Tell me what a good girl youare. Tell me why you deserve to come now, in your boss’s office, after he fucked you so thoroughly over his desk this morning.”

“I’ve been good,” she gasped. “I did all my work. I didn’t complain about being sore.”

“You did squirm though.”

“I couldn’t help it,” she whispered. “My bottom hurts.”