I grabbed my purse and stood up, but as I was about to step around my desk, he put his hand on my wrist.
“The doors are locked,” he said. “I thought you’d appreciate that.”
He gave me a long look, undressing me with his eyes.
“Why would I appreciate that?” I asked, feeling my resistance starting to waver.
It felt as though his skin was searing into my own where we were touching. “I really need to go,” I said tightly.
But he didn’t release my wrist; instead, he pushed the straps of my purse off my shoulder and down my arm, so it fell on the floor. He turned me to him and reached up, pulling my shirt open, buttons popping off.
“Hey!” I said, but I could already feel my body giving over to him, wanting him closer.
“I’ve been watching you all day, and you suddenly playing hard to get has been such a turn on.” My shirt fell open, and he pushed my bra up, running his hands down the sides of my waist as he began to kiss my breasts. My head fell back, and I closed my eyes.
“I’ve got to leave,” I said, even though it was plain as day in my voice that leaving was the last thing I was going to do.
He held onto my hip with one hand and slid the other hand up my skirt, slipping his fingers into my underwear, which was already wet.
“That’s a good girl,” he said.
He kissed a trail from my breasts down to my navel, pulling my skirt, and then my underwear, down with his teeth. He let them fall at my feet, and then he stood up, unbuckling his own pants.
He pushed them down and his cock sprang out. He pulled me toward him and then put his hands on my shoulders. I sank to my knees in front of him, and he held onto the back of my hair as I slowly took the head of his cock into my mouth.
I moved my mouth slowly down the shaft, trying to keep my lips over my teeth, feeling the way his cock pulsed and grew harder inside my mouth. His fingers entangled with my hair. When I got him in as far as I could, I held him there for a moment, and then slowly pulled my head back, until just the tip was in my mouth. I moved my tongue around in circles, and I reached up and took hold of the rest of him, my hand slick with my own saliva, easily sliding up and down. He groaned. I let my mouth slide back down, then back up again, increasing my speed until it felt like his cock was going to explode in my mouth.
He pulled me up, an intense, concentrated expression on his face. And just like in the movies, he swept his arm across my desk, knocking off the cup of pencils, the folders, the stapler. He lifted me up and plunked me down, then quickly reached for his pants which were still down around his ankles, where he grabbed his wallet and pulled out a condom.
I stayed upright but leaned way back, letting my knees fall apart. He slid my ass closer to the edge of the desk and then slowly pushed his cock into me. It occurred to me then that anyone could just walk through the door. He said he’d locked it, but maybe he was just saying that so I’d be more comfortable. The idea, actually, aroused me, made me feel like I was doing something I shouldn’t be.
Which I totally was.
I wasn’t supposed to be here, practically naked, legs spread on my desk, his cock easing into me. Oh, but it felt so good. He was so hot, and I watched his face as he slowly started to move his hips back and forth. His lips were slightly parted, his brow furrowed, the expression on his face one that could easily be confused with pain. But if he felt even half as good as I did, pain was the furthest thing from his mind. I pushed back against him, almost as if he I was trying to get up, but he gripped me tighter, held me there on top of the desk while he fucked me.
Afterward, my whole body was buzzing, and I didn’t know how I should feel. He had a satisfied grin on his face as he hitched his pants back up. As the pleasure started to recede, all I could think about was him having sex with his other secretaries in this office, too, probably right here on this desk, like it was some sort of initiation into the club of women who not only worked for Ian but also had sex with him.
Most of the buttons on my shirt had popped off and now it wouldn’t close properly. Great.
He came over and put both hands on the sides of my shoulders, rubbing them lightly. He kissed my forehead.
“Sorry about your shirt,” he said. “We can’t have you leaving the office like that now, can we? Wait here.”
He turned and went into his office, returning a moment later with a blue button down shirt of his own.
“It’s clean,” he said. “And it’ll be big on you, but at least it’ll get you home without having to flash any passersby.”
“Thanks,” I said, taking the shirt from him. I left my own shirt on and buttoned his on over it, giving me a sort of odd, misshapen look. We both stood there, not saying anything. Finally, I bent down and grabbed my purse. “Well, I better get going. I’ll see you later.”
He walked me out, and I didn’t know what to say, so I felt awkward, but he seemed completely content, a happy half-smile on his face. At my car, he again put his hands on my shoulders, pulling me to him, then wrapped me up in his arms in a long embrace, his face nuzzled next to my neck.
“You be good,” he said when we pulled apart. “I’ll see you later.”
I got in the car and got out of the parking spot as quickly as I could, breathing a sigh of relief when I turned the corner and he was no longer in sight.
What the hell had just happened?
Yes, it had been so good, but I also felt disappointed with myself. Was I really one of those girls who was incapable of resisting a good-looking guy? Shouldn’t I have just yanked my purse back up and stomped out when that whole thing had started? Didn’t I have any self-respect, any dignity? Just because something felt good didn’t mean that it was the right thing to do.