Borden 2 (Borden 2)

“Emma,” he returned, gazing at my lips, “say the word, and I’ll fuck you.”

My eyes narrowed and he smiled, but it was half of a smile really. He was more concerned with the fact my legs were still parted and he wanted it badly. I almost thought he’d fold, and to piss him off, I grabbed my lacy underwear and tugged it off, lifting my ass off the desk for second to slide it down my legs.

He exhaled slowly, his face contorting like he was in physical pain at what I’d done. “You little slut,” he half-groaned.

“Your slut,” I replied smugly, throwing my underwear at his chest.

It landed there and he took it in his hand and squeezed it. “Fucking filthy bitch, taunting me.”

“I’m just spreading myself for you. Showing you your merchandise.”

He chuckled deep. “You think you’re going to win, don’t you? I have more willpower than you, doll. I’ve been without sex a very long time before you. I’ve mastered blue balls.”

“But have you mastered blue balls with me around?”

He went quiet, deliberating my question. “No,” he admitted slowly with a ghost of a smile. “I haven’t. I think I fucked you in my mind with my hand around my dick a thousand times in the start, and now that I’ve got a taste of that fine little pussy, I’m pretty fucking whipped.”

“So end the misery.”

His jaw ticked. “Beg first.”

Fuck, he was impossible. “No,” I gritted out.

He exhaled slowly, running an exasperated hand through his thick hair. I saw something flash in his expression, a look of surrender perhaps, and I thought he’d crumble right there and then…Until the phone started ringing next to me. Fuck. We locked eyes again, his ravenous need for me evident in the lust that lurked there. To my surprise, he reached for the phone and, feeling uncertain, I went to close my legs. He darted his eyes back to mine and barked, “Don’t. Keep them spread or you’ll be sorry.”

Before I could respond, he answered his call and spoke in clipped tones. I kept my legs spread. My cheeks burned as he spoke, staring between my legs, his bottom lip still gloriously wet. He moved his chair closer to where I was, and his hand shot up. I felt his fingers glide up my inner thigh, moving at a snail’s pace to my centre. The second he reached my heat, my head fell back. He rubbed my pussy gently, sparking a fire unhurriedly, and away he spoke, his voice giving nothing away, as he felt my bare flesh. I trembled, biting my bottom lip hard as he rubbed his fingertips along my sex, stopping at my clit. He pressed circles into me, and I shook at the sparks that flew up my body, causing me to moan lightly. God yes, this is what I love. This is what I need.

He fidgeted in his chair, pursing his lips in a tight line as he continued to rub me. His finger rimmed my entrance. He slowly pushed his finger in, watching the way my face twisted at the pleasure. He moved in slowly, and every time he pulled his finger out, he used my wetness to rub circles around my clit. I gripped the edge of the desk and moaned again, this time louder. My hand shot over his and I tried to hurry him along, but he resisted against my touch. I dug my nails into his wrist as the pleasure built. Fuck, it was too good.

“I gotta go,” he abruptly spoke into the phone, his voice low and thick. “Call me later.”

He slammed the phone down and pulled his finger all the way out. He then gripped my jaw and forced me to look down at him. “Tell me what you want,” he demanded, his voice low and hard. I was in a daze still, my body wound up unbearably tight. He stuck his finger between my lips, the same finger that was inside me, and raised his brows. “Don’t make me fucking repeat myself, Emma. I’m fucking bursting here. What do you want?”

“I want you.”

“To do what? To fuck you? Eat you out? What?”

“Eat me out.”

His lips went up. “Fuck, your mouth alone gets me hard.”

Before I could say another word, he grabbed my legs with both hands and buried his face between them. He slowly trailed his tongue along my sex and I buckled at the hot feeling, whimpering aloud at the pleasure that warmed every part of me. I shook and he only held me tighter, sucking at my swollen flesh, lapping his tongue in strategic strokes, igniting that fire until I could hardly take it.

My hands shot to his head, and I gripped his hair, pulling at the strands as he continued to tongue-fuck me. My eyelids went heavy, and I stared down at him, this broad shouldered man, two times my size, digging his fingers painfully into my legs as he drew white hot pleasure out of me.

“Marcus,” I chanted, scratching at his skull. “Marcus.”

He groaned in return, sucking the bundle of nerves until I seized all movement. A wave of spine tingling pleasure coursed through my body. I moaned through it, unaware of how loud I was and frankly not caring either. He continued to lick me, drawing out my orgasm, leaving me panting and, strangely, still aroused.

He pulled away from me and stood up. His arms caged around me again. I was still in a daze when he crashed his mouth against mine, forcing his tongue between my lips, soaking me with his taste mingled with mine. My arms darted around him, and I pulled him to me, urgently wrapping my legs around his hips. His hands grabbed at my clothes. He pulled my top out of my skirt and ran his under it, grasping at my bare skin. He kissed me roughly like that, pressing me flush against his body, against the hard ridge of his cock. I palmed it and he hissed, rolling his hips into my hand. I wanted him. I wanted him inside of me.

“Marcus,” I found myself begging, squeezing his length, “please.”

“Please what?” he groaned in return, viciously pressing himself against my hand.

God, even when he was horny he had to win. “Please, fuck me. Please.”

“Fuck, that sweet little mouth.”

With a hand behind my head, he kissed me desperately, touching me everywhere with his heat and body. With shaky fingers, I unzipped his pants, about to slip my hand in when he abruptly stepped back. He cut the kiss off in a flash of a second. Still hovering near me, I opened my eyes to find his devilish smirk inches away from my lips.

“Too late,” he murmured. “You should have begged sooner.”

“What?”

“I’m already pressed for time.”

“Are you serious?”

He picked up my underwear and slipped it back on, all the while I gaped at him with confusion. He chuckled, amused by my misery. I didn’t get it. He was rock hard and obviously sexually frustrated. His chest was heaving, his eyes were wide and dazed.