Page 116 of Secret Obsession
“Whiteshaw,” he barks. “For fuck’s sake, let him go.”
Miles flings Ronan’s arm, sending him crashing backward. But then he lasers in on me, and my throat closes. Excitement and anxiety wrap through me, and I take a small step back. Miles’ gaze drops to my feet, the way I slide them backward in an attempt to be sly. But his gaze always draws me in, especially when his blue eyes rise and burn into mine.
He holds out his hand.
I stop and look at it.
I know what awaits me if I take it—and Iwantit.
So I take it.
He pulls me out of the dining hall, telling the attendant there that we’ll be back. We go upstairs, silent the whole time we march up through the stairwell, and down the hall lined with offices.
Athletic department.
We get to an office, and I miss whose it is. We’re inside in a flash, and he closes and locks the door behind us.
I step into the dark space, feeling my way forward. I bump into a chair. I grip the back of it automatically. It’s impossibly dark here, and my skin prickles with apprehension.
“Strip,” comes Miles’ order.
I let out a breath. My fingers are already moving, undoing my jeans and shoving them down. I kick them off, along with my shoes, and tear my shirt off. It makes it easier knowing that Miles can’t see me either.
The office has no windows. It’s pitch-black with the door shut.
Actually, no. There’s a sliver of light that comes from under the closed door. It’s blocked by two spokes that I can imagine are his legs. Meaning he hasn’t come farther into the room.
I feel around the chair, to the desk. My other hand finds the wall. I get to the back corner and turn back around, shedding my bra. I toss it at where I think Miles is, and his surprised huff is enough to bring a smile to my lips.
“Mmm,” he murmurs, inhaling. “Where are your panties, wild girl?”
Isnapthe elastic still on my hip.
“Give,” he orders.
I practically tear them off and toss them the same way I tossed my bra.
“I can smell your arousal from here.” His voice is deep and rasping.
Yes, I’m turned on. Impossibly so. Although I can’t pinpoint if it’s the excitement or my guess that he wants to punish me for speaking with Ronan.
A light turns on—his camera’s flashlight. I raise my hand against it, trying to see past the searing brightness, and he comes forward. The light bathes my naked body in a cool bluish-white color, seeming to make me seem paler than I am. I look down, then back up to him. I’m in the corner of the room, with the desk to my right, and the wheeled office chair tucked behind it. If I leaned over, I might be able to reach it from here.
Miles jerks the light, directing me wordlessly to the chair. I go to it and pull it out, only hesitating for a moment before sitting.
“Spread those legs for me,” he says. “Hook them over the armrests.”
I hum and do as directed. He moves around the desk and stands so he can see all of me. With my legs splayed like this, he has a prime view of my pussy. And damn if that doesn’t excite me more. Adding to the fact that I can’t see his face, or much of anything besides the light aimed on me.
“Touch yourself. Sink your fingers into your greedy cunt.”
Something in my chest tightens. I run my finger through my center, collecting the wetness there. My thighs tremble. I pay attention to my clit for a moment, rubbing tiny little circles, until Miles tsks at me. My cheeks flame, and I move my hand lower. A single finger inside my cunt. I thrust it in and out until Miles makes another noise, and I add a digit.
“Keep going.”
Okay, I mouth. I don’t have words. I finger-fuck myself, legs spread like a whore.
“Good girl,” he murmurs. “You look so pretty on camera.”
